#part of me feels "well of course they think it's fucked up from MY perspective

[cyberm4n]

alastor and lucifer sharing you pt 2!

(i tagged people who commented asking for part 2 but lmk if you want to be untagged)

pt1, pt3

tags: @lu-ferri12 @my-anime-garden @princessdreamss @polytheatrix

cw: explicit smut, not thoroughly proofread, lucifer has a daddy kink, still in a hinge type relationship, hints to radioapple if you squint

other: i wrote part of this while very high so if there's a random perspective change just know i was cooking so hard with writing that i forgot to write in 2nd person pov

■ let's be honest neither of them are particularly interested in the other halfs involvement in this equation

■ but it's incredibly hard to deny that they work well together with you in the bedroom

■ when they want to, of course.

■ so there's a silent agreement between them that they usually put their beef aside cause like. they have you atleast.

■ i think alastor would still want to be close though, so most often your head is laid in his lap or he's touching you somehow

■ but there is a VERY strict line of sight he follows because depending on what exactly is going on this position makes it far too easy for the two men to just be staring at each other and that is 100% a no go for them

■ which i mean, fair enough

■ lucifer does tend to get a little possessive on the rare occasion alastor decides he wants to participate a little

"oh sweetheart, daddy is making you feel so good, right?" he would coo at you as he bullies his cock into you again.

alastor, tilting your head back with his hand, claws scraping at the soft skin of your neck. a good portion of your upper body is laid out on him, his other hand pinning your arm down.

"eyes on me, darling" he'd say, only for lucifer to give a particularly rough thrust, trying to get your attention back.

the main ground rule you had set is that they were not allowed to bicker with each other during intimate moments, so after a whine escapes your throat the two set it aside. for now.

■ i feel like alastor is strictly a dom, especially considering most of the time he's not really physically participating

■ lucifer id say is more of a service top. he wants you to feel good and he wants to know how good you feel.

■ i think he'd bottom if you really wanted him too but like only if he gets to make you feel good yk

■ alastor does particularly enjoy watching lcuifer go down on you, seeing you writhe in pleasure and moan so sweetly is like music to his ears.

■ he'd love to broadcast this

■ there is sometimes alastor takes a complete backseat though

■ maybe he's not in the mood or just wanting a different angle

■ so that's how you ended up riding lucifer while alastor gleefully watches from a chair beside the bed

"s'ok princess, you can do it" lucifer would say, hands on your hips as he guides you down on his cock. you squirm and whimper as he stretches you open.

with his guidance you start gently grinding your hips down, and lucifer lulls his head back, sweet praises falling out of his mouth.

"fuck.. that's it. ride daddy's cock. you're such a good girl" he'd moan as he rubs your clit. it's not long before he gets impatient though, wanting to hear more moans coming out of his pretty girl, hands returning to your hips as he bucks into you.

"you like it when he watches?" lucifer practically growls, hips thrusting up harder now. "cmon baby, talk to me" he'd gently tut, slowing down to such a painfully slow pace.

you're practically reduced to nothing, giving a weak moan, both of their smiles growing wider. "such a good duckling, letting daddy get his fill. gonna fill you up princess" lucifer says as he pulls you in for a sloppy kiss, another thing lucifer loved to do.

■ alastor has never been a fan of the more personalized petnames lucifer calls you

■ "duckling" "ducky" "doll"

■ but he has some of his own

you're on your knees in alastors radio tower, the very rare occasion lucifer just isnt feeling up to it. he's never been a big fan of receiving head, and he's just not feeling it today, comfortably sat in a chair.

alastor on the other hand, his hands are wound tight into your hair as you suck him off. "oh my sweet doe, so desperate to please" alastor would purr, feeling your tongue swirl around his cock.

"i understand why you... indulge so often. our little pet is such a people pleaser, isn't she?" he'd chime to lucifer, who doesn't respond, not really atleast.

■ but aftercare

■ oh aftercare from these two is amazing

■ the only time they firmly agree with each other and leave everything else behind is during after care.

■ it doesn't matter which of them you want or what you want they're gonna make it happen

■ if you want both of them that's great! and they definitely won't get mildy possessive of you at all!!

■ lucifer is definitely a big cuddler

■ and i feel like alastor would be about praise and affirmations, especially after playing "bad cop" the whole time.

■ not that he minds that, mind you.

"darling you were amazing, im so proud of you" he'd say in a much gentler tone, stroking your hair as you lay on lucifers chest, whos pressing soft kisses across your face.

lucifers hands trace soft circles on your back as they both murmur affections to you, and when you finally slump your forehead to lucifers shoulder, they both breathe out a smile.

if he's feeling particularly charitable, lucifer will nod to alastor to take you, to cuddle with you. most of the time alastor declines respectfully, still not really prone to expose himself to touch.

but on the rare occasion he takes the offer, switching places as he cuddles into you, lucifer cracks a little smile.

they really do make a good team, don't they?

#lucifer smut #alastor #lucifer morningstar x reader #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin hotel #alastor smut #smut #rambles #headcanons #hazbin hotel smut

[midascrow]

Alastor x Reader

————

Favoritism Pt.2(1.5)

Part 1

———————————-||————||

Synopsis: Alastor finds himself wondering why exactly he favors you so much

a/n: this is more of a part 1.5 really, as it’s mostly just Alastair’s perspective of what’s going on, but I figured you guys would enjoy this 🍓

———————-<>—————————-<>———-

Fluffy red ears twitched back and fourth, listening to the idle and mindless chatter of the hotel inhabitants.

Alastor couldn’t help but feel a certain sense of mirth at the topic of discussion. While he made no attempts to hide his blatant bias, he hadn’t thought he was quite that obvious.

Though a tiny part of him felt a bit smug, especially at the claim of that empty headed serpent. A kiss?

The idea wasn’t unpleasant but he was unfortunately mistaken.

The two of you had never shared such an intimate gesture, much less in the company of others.

No-, he supposed the closest you had ever gotten was a small bump of the nose to one another’s. It wasn’t an inherently romantic gesture on the radio demons part, more instinctual than anything, but he could suppose there had been a certain layer of affection lined in the action nonetheless.

“What do you suppose they’re talking about Al..?”

His ears twitched forward to fully take in the sound of your candied voice.

Alastor didn’t consider himself a fan of sweet things like candy and cakes. But he always seemed to make an exception when it came to you.

“Hm..~ Seems our dear friends are under the impression that you and I are…an item of sorts.” His smile twitched, inching upwards with amusement when he saw the way your eyes widened, a warmth on your cheeks that roused a small huff of pride from his nose.

“Oh…well that doesn’t..upset you?…right?” Your concern is down right precious. So bothered with his comfort that it makes the fabric of his tail coat shift, just briefly.

“Hmm~…perhaps if it were another sinner who they believed I had such relations with. However because it’s you my dear, I can’t seem to find myself bothered by the idea.”

You were far too naive. (Cute). Your sparkly gaze almost made him angry. Like he wanted to squeeze you till it eased the tight sensation in his chest. Though he wouldn’t dare to act on such an impulse. For fear of losing such pleasant company of course.

But he couldn’t stop himself from teasing you. Just a little. “Infact…I’d say I’m rather flattered by the notion~. To think they see me a fit partner for a gem like you.”

That feeling got subsequently stronger as he watched you bury your face into the crook of your shoulder, a shy, perhaps embarrassed smile painting your lips and making a that shifting of his tail coat return. Like those aforementioned sweets had found their way into his system and subsequently thrown him into a vicious sugar rush. His heart was practically bouncing off the walls of his ribcage, though he hadn't the faintest idea why.

“Alastor…” His name was a garbled whine, swatting at him playfully as you returned to dusting the bannister, distracting yourself as he sidled beside you still, ever attendant while his shadow fluttered around, moving glasses and nicknacks for you to dust off. “Are you going to tell them then..?”

“What ever do you mean?”

Your eyes glanced back, lips pursed. “Well…you are going to tell them we’re not together right?”

Well that sounded unpleasant, and his immediate thought had been an internal grimace. But he pondered the thought for a moment, mindful of the eyes on both your backs as he stepped around the side of you, clawed hands dancing across your shoulder and arm thoughtfully.

“Hmm…~..No.”

He paused, ears twitched backwards as his lips connected gently with the skin of your nose, sweet and lingering as he failed to ignore the twitch of his grin at the gasps that echoed behind.

“No fucking way.”

“I say let them wonder..~”

……

Alastor could admit, even by his standards this was a bit mean.

His “loving” gestures had amped up quite a bit the following week at the hotel.

Lingering touches, thoughtful hand placements, small gestures and sweet words. Nothing explicitly romantic…but there was always something implied in his gaze that perhaps even he himself wasn't aware of.

It wasn’t in an intentional effort to lead you on. He was hardly that cruel. But some part of him…found deep satisfaction in watching your eyes shine and your cheeks darken and become hot.

And that itch had only gotten worse too.

Sometimes it was small. An urge to pinch your cheek which he acted on, mindful of his claws in doing so. His ears always twitched at your disgruntled whines, always tuned to your words and noises. Even unintentionally.

There had been one moment when, your silly little self had gotten caught on that same rug, again. Alastor had been on the other side of the room, but the moment your squeak reached his ears, they swiveled back, and a mass of tentacles lurched up from the ground, gently rolling you onto you greet before disappearing like they had never existed.

And Alastor hadn’t even turned around, still idly chatting with the stunned princess who barely hid her ever widening smile.

Husker seemed the most displeased with his current antics. Always preaching to the others that this was a trick. That he was playing with you. Toying with you.

The radio demon wished that was the case now.

Frankly, he wasn’t sure why he was doing it. He knew he favored you above the others. That was natural. Instinctual. Obvious. And while the others reactions, especially those of the spear wielding ex angel and the gambler were fairly amusing, if that had been the soul purpose it was likely he would’ve grown bored by now. And he would’ve stopped.

But it wasn’t. And he hadn’t.

And it was all becoming a bit overwhelming.

Yet you didn’t question it. Sometimes your brow would raise, at a particularly bold gesture or comment sent your way, and yes your eyes would dart around as if to see who was watching. But you never complained. And if he didn’t know any better, he’d say you were enjoying yourself, if the sweetheart smile that graced your lips after each instance was anything to go off.

So Alastor didn’t feel the need to label what he was experiencing or truly ponder why. He was enjoying himself, as were you. To him, nothing needed to be said.

“So are you two bangin or nah?”

Though he supposed not everyone felt the same.

Taglist: @preciousbabypeter @ouroborostheunholy @chirimeimei @shanksstrawhat @for-hearthand-home @random-3455 @ittoehurt @salutations-demonsanddappers

(Anyone who wanted to be tagged and wasn’t, for whatever reason your blogs weren’t showing up,🍓)

#x reader #hazbin x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor x reader #alastor

[riality-check]

More roadie shenanigans, keeping feedback from this post in mind! part 1, part 2

ao3

It’s before the second show, and they’re already fighting.

“You can’t chicken out,” Gareth says.

“I’m not gonna chicken out!”

“Good, because I’ll tell Wayne if you do,” Jeff says.

Eddie glares at him. “You’re an asshole.”

“Tell me something I don’t know.”

“Shut up and get out of here!” Archie says, pushing Eddie toward the tech booth. He complies, but not without another scathing look over his shoulder.

His friends laugh because of course they do. They’re assholes, but, luckily, they’re the same kind of asshole that Eddie is.

He straightens out his shoulders, breathes, and prepares to grovel.

Robin and Steve are setting up just like they were at the last venue. It looks like a mess of cables and boxes from Eddie’s perspective, but Steve and Robin work with ruthless efficiency, alternately talking and signing when their hands aren’t full.

“Um,” Eddie says. G-d, he’s never been this awkward in his life. But this matters, like, really matters to him, and he’s gotta do right.

Neither of them pay him any attention.

“Excuse me?” he says a little louder.

Robin turns around. When she sees him, her expression instantly sours.

“Hello?” she drawls, sounding bored out of her mind.

Steve turns around, too. When he sees Eddie, his face-

Well, Eddie isn’t sure what that expression is supposed to mean. If he had to guess, he’d say mild annoyance.

Mild annoyance shouldn’t look that hot.

“I just wanted to say again that I’m really sorry,” he says, making sure to talk clearly and loud enough to be understood. He’s not an idiot, he knows that shouting is rude, but he makes sure he can be heard over the general chaos of setting up for a new show. “It wasn’t any of my business, and even if I meant well, it’s not an excuse.”

Steve’s face softens a whole lot as Eddie stumbles through his apology, and then he reaches up to his ears to take out ear plugs.

Huh?

“Mind saying that again?” Steve says with a smile.

Eddie is. So confused.

But then Steve laughs. “You should see your face, dude. I got the gist. Apology accepted, we’re cool.”

Okay, that makes Eddie feel better. A lot better. But he’s still confused.

And his mouth always moves faster than his brain.

“Why are you- why do you have- what-”

Robin rolls her eyes fondly. “This idiot,” she says, pointing at Steve, “always tries to do the first show without the ear plugs he needs-”

“Not this shit again,” Steve mumbles.

“-because, as it turns out, your ears do a lot more than just hear. Like balance-”

“You’re one to talk about balance, Buckley,” Steve says, giving her a light shove. She nearly topples over if not for the fact that he immediately grabs her arm to steady her.

Eddie thinks he might know even less than he thought.

“I want to make it up to you,” he says, and Steve and Robin stop bickering.

“You don’t have to do that,” Steve says, and Robin elbows him.

“I want to,” Eddie insists. “What’s your favorite song? We’ll play it at the end of our set.”

Naïvely and terribly optimistically, Eddie hopes Steve might say something that’s already in their set list, or maybe another one of their songs.

From the way that Robin and Steve are looking at each other conspiratorially, he doesn’t think that’s the case.

“No,” Steve says, laughing and shaking his head.

Robin sneaks a glance at Eddie, smirks, and starts signing at Steve.

The only thing Eddie understands about the conversation as their hands move is their facial expressions: Robin with a smirk, and Steve trying desperately not to laugh.

He’s so cute. He gets this little crease on the side of his mouth that Eddie wants to smooth out with his thumb.

Slow the hell down, buddy.

“Fine,” Steve says, throwing his hands up in the air. He turns back to Eddie. “Pretty Fly.”

“Are you fucking kidding me,” Eddie blurts.

Steve’s eyes narrow. “Didn’t you just apologize to me?”

“Sorry,” Eddie says. “It’s just that my bassist and lead singer have been gunning for this song for, like, 6 months. Archie chomps at the bit for fun bass lines, and Jeff just thinks it’s funny as-”

“Slow down,” Steve interrupts.

Right. He talks too fast.

“I’ll play it, but it means caving to my asshole friends,” Eddie says.

Robin cackles. “Told you it was a good idea.”

“Yeah, I love a good bass line,” Steve says. His face is softer again, and Eddie thinks he loves that expression.

He checks his watch. “Soundcheck is soon, so I’m gonna head back. Sorry again.”

“Eddie,” Steve says, and oh.

Eddie loves how Steve says his name.

“We’re good, okay?” he continues, small smile on his face.

“Well,” Robin chimes in. “After the apology song you will be.”

Eddie laughs. He really likes her now that she’s warmed up to him.

“Noted,” he says.

He heads back with a final wave and ducks backstage, where the band is tuning their instruments.

“Well?” Gareth asks, tightening his snare.

Eddie grabs his guitar, closes his eyes, and sighs. “He wants us to play Pretty Fly as an apology.”

“Let’s fucking go!” Archie roars, and Jeff gives him a high five.

“No way-”

“Gareth, I know-”

“You dick-hungry traitor.”

“Hey!”

“The fucking Offspring, Eddie? Punk? Are you shitting me? Punk just because you want a shot with a hot guy?”

Archie starts plucking out the bass line. Gareth throws a drum stick at his head. Jeff beams it back at him and misses.

“It’s one time,” Eddie says.

“Unless your cute roadie likes it enough,” Jeff teases.

“He’s not my anything.”

“Not yet,” Archie adds.

“Not ever.”

“Fucking pessimist,” Jeff says.

A tiny crashing sound makes them all turn toward the drum set, where Gareth is lightly thumping his head into the hi-hat.

“I’m gonna have to do the backing vocals for Pretty Fly,” he mutters.

“Your fault for sounding like a pre-pubescent chihuahua.”

Gareth throws his other drumstick at Jeff. “I’m not begging you for shit.”

“Do it for the bit,” Archie says. “You love doing it for the bit.”

Gareth picks his head up. “I do love doing anything for the bit.”

“Soundcheck in five!” someone calls.

“Thank you five!” Eddie yells back. Shit, he’s gotta tune his guitar.

Soundcheck is a breeze, and, after that, the time flies. Before he knows it, they’re out onstage, playing their usual set list.

Eddie doesn’t think he’ll ever get enough of this. The energy, the lights, the sounds, G-d, all of it. There’s nothing like being onstage and playing until his fingers hurt, nothing like joining in on the backup vocals, nothing like hearing the crowd roar with them.

It’s perfect. Touring is everything he dreamed of and more.

Eddie wants to do this for the rest of his life. They’re gonna headline one day, he knows it, but this is an amazing start.

What Eddie doesn’t want to do is talk, at Jeff’s request.

“Okay, okay,” he says, getting the crowd to quiet down. “We’ve got two more songs. The first one is one we’re playing because I fucked up.”

“And because he finally caved to us,” Jeff adds.

The crowd laughs, but it doesn’t feel mocking. Eddie laughs with them.

“So, Steve, consider this the final part of my apology-”

“And my peak embarrassment!” Gareth adds.

The crowd laughs again, and Eddie sighs, fondly long-suffering. “Let’s do it.”

The backing vocals are fucking embarrassing. Eddie’s with Gareth on that one. They suck, and he feels himself flush for reasons other than the heat.

But he imagines Steve smiling as he watches the show, and Archie is clearly having the best G-ddamn time on the bass, and Jeff is basically cackling his way through the song, so it’s worth it.

They get through it and then their closer without a hitch.

“We’re Corroded Coffin!” Jeff tells the crowd. “Y’all were amazing, so keep that energy up for the other opener and for the main act!”

The crowd roars, the lights black out, and they make their way backstage.

In the green room, on Eddie’s guitar case, is a note.

Apology more than accepted. Here’s my number in case you want to apologize again. Or maybe grab a coffee.

Text, don’t call. In case you haven’t noticed, my ears don’t work.

-Steve.

Eddie has never added a contact faster in his life.

I think I saw a 24 hour diner down the road. Hopefully they have good coffee.

Steve’s response is immediate.

Do you really think I care about the quality of the coffee?

You could be a coffee connoisseur for all I know, Eddie types back.

I don’t know a lot. Hence the date.

Date.

Woah.

Eddie tries to get his heart rate under control and text Steve back. He’s never been good at multitasking though, so by the time he’s able to formulate words again, the lights have gone down and the second opener is on. Steve’s working, and he shouldn’t be bothered.

Besides, Eddie should probably use the time between now and the end of the show to think before he speaks for once in his life.

Yeah fuck it I’ll keep the tag list (or you can follow the shiny new tag #gi;pe au): @vampireinthesun @paperbackribs @littlewildflowerkitten @estrellami-1 @messrs-weasley @lifeisnotsobadonceyoustopcaring @omgshesinsane @bestwifehaver @marklee-blackmore @gleek4twd @steddiestains @chaoticvictorianspirit @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @alienace @7shrewsinatrenchcoat @punctualhowell @pluto-pepsi @voidpacifist @sunfloweringstories @anaibis @evillitteguy @hallucinatedjosten @avi17 @b-u-g-g-y @shinekocreator @l0st-strawberry @brassreign @abbiecadabi-blog @rainbow-freckle @gregre369 @rehfan @just-a-tiny-void @weirdandabsurd42 @satan-is-obsessed @honeysucklesinger @coyotepup345 @gayafmermaid @thegingerrapunzel

#ria writes #steddie #steddie ficlet #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things ficlet #st #st ficlet #hoh steve harrington #rockstar eddie munson #jewish eddie munson #yeehaw #i am cringe but i am free #gi;pe au #stobin #platonic with a capital p #robin buckley #corroded coffin #fluff

[hirukochan]

Ambushed

A Severus SnapexFem!Reader Oneshot

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Pairing: Severus Snape x former student reader

Summary: After your former Professor murdered Albus Dumbledore a few weeks after your one-nightstand you never expected to see him again.

Warnings: Smut, catcalling, blood, injury

Wordcount: 5000

Read on Ao3 or below the cut

Life has become significantly darker since the death of Albus Dumbledore. You hear rumours of the Ministry falling, about Death Eaters taking over and You-Know-Who rising. From the perspective of the public all that hasn’t happened. Everybody can feel the change and taste the misery hanging in the air between abandoned and destroyed shops in Diagon Alley.

The rich fuck you work for is paying you extra because you decided to stay. You aren’t going to let yourself be scared into running away! 

You started evening courses at a small university in Aberdeen a few months ago. Enchanted Art. For what? Hell if you know, but art sounded good. You however aren’t…good. Not at all, but it’s fun. You enrolled a few days after what you now call ‘the worst mistake of your life’. 

Severus Snape.

Death Eater.

Murderer.

Newly appointed headmaster of Hogwarts.

And you fucked him. Just three weeks before he killed Albus Dumbledore, a man who trusted him. 

The Daily Prophet and the Ministry are framing Harry Potter for it. There is a large manhunt going on with a bounty on Potter’s head. The boy has disappeared from the face of the earth. 

You saw him at the funeral in Hogwarts. Many former students came to say their goodbyes to Dumbledore. You went out of shame and guilt. It doesn’t make any sense for you to feel like that. Neither did you know what Snape was planning nor did you support him in any way. And yet, just knowing you had that man in your bed is eating at you.

You sway and stumble but can catch yourself on the side of an abandoned building. Death Eaters have been attacking Diagon Alley for months, even before You-Know-Who came to power, but never your shop. You guess it’s because a second-hand bookshop is absolutely useless. You don’t even have many customers! The shop is not profitable whatsoever.

You rub your eyes and push yourself off the wall to continue your less than straight way back to your flat. You’ve been drinking with the Weasley twins who run the joke shop a few streets away from yours. They are one of the few shops still open like you. They were three years under you and always good for a laugh though you were never friends with them. Now out of school and in the same boat you get along well.

And drinking alone is pathetic.

You are pathetic, but not that pathetic. 

Not yet.

You squeeze through an alley. Just another corner and you’d be there. You’re too drunk to apparate and apparition can suck it anyway.

“What’s a pretty thing like you doing out all alone?” A male voice calls out to you. You ignore it. You are really not in the mood to be accosted now and your wand might just slip.

You grip it tighter in your pocket. One could not be careful enough these days. Perhaps you should have taken Georges’ offer of walking you home.

“I’m talking to you!” He sounds angry now. Just fuck off. Just turn around and fuck off or better come here and give me something to let my aggressions out on. “Stuck up cunt!” You are whirled around by your shoulder and thrown against a wall. The air is pressed out of your lungs and your back aches. 

The blurry face of a sleazy looking man comes into view but in the next second he’s gone. You blink. Your alcohol drenched brain needs some time to catch up. Then a scream rips through the night and you recoil. Everything in you screams to run. To turn around and take off, to save yourself, but your eyes are glued to the man on the ground, writhing and screaming, his body shaken by endless, never-ending agony. 

Steps echo through the night and your head snaps up. A tall, dark figure moves towards you. Black robes, dark hair- for a second you think it’s Snape and you don’t know how to feel at that and even less how to deal with the sting of treacherous disappointment when you notice he’s too slim and too short to be Snape. 

Moonlight reflects off a silver mask. You grip your wand tighter, terrified of what’s going to happen next. 

A Death Eater.

A real fucking Death Eater right in front of you! And you’re still not running. Why the fuck are you not running?

“Tsk tsk tsk.” He clicks his tongue and shakes his hand. The man’s screams have stopped, replaced by a strangled, gurgling sound that somehow sounds so much worse. Your blood freezes in your veins and you start shivering. This is it. This is how you die. Drunk and on your way home. Just a street away! Away from safety, though you suspect that it’s a false feeling. A lie.

There is no safety left in Britain.

“Has your mummy never taught you, you mustn’t touch what isn’t yours?” He shakes his head and clicks his tongue again. A green light illuminates the alley. It paints grotesque shadows onto the silver mask and the wall behind him.

You scream. Shock and pain are ripping the sound out of the wall of your throat and haul it into the night. You cover your mouth with your hands. Tears sting in your eyes. You don’t want to die here.

Your heart pounds in your chest, strong and fast, declaring it has many good years still left, refusing to back down but also trapped by a rich net, woven from terror and dread.

“You shouldn’t be out so late.” The Death Eater says. His voice is slightly muffled by the mask, but he sounds young. So terribly young. Perhaps around the twins’ age? Did he go to school with you? You don’t recognise his voice, but you are in shock. Right? Yes, shock. He just killed someone! Like it’s nothing! To think you might have sat next to him in the Great Hall or the library…

“It’s not safe. Best run along now.”

You blink. Confused. He is letting you go? Why would he let you go? He rips his sleeve up, revealing a jet-black tattoo on his underarm, one that you’ve never seen before but recognise regardless.

“That’s a fucking order!” You flinch. And then you’re running. Running down the street and not stopping until you’ve reached the door to your flat. Your fingers tremble so much you struggle to get the key into the keyhole. You use every single protection charm you know on the door after you’ve closed behind yourself. You’ve gotten good at casting them. You had to.

“What the fuck.” You whisper to yourself, back leaned against the wall and wand clutched to your chest. “What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck!” A Death Eater just fucking let you go! He tortured someone for attempting to assault you and then killed him. 

He fucking killed him.

You watched someone die. 

What the fuck.

Oh Merlin and Grímhildr and god and Jesus fucking Christ!

‘Mustn’t touch what isn’t yours’ What does that mean? You’re not some object to be owned!

“Maybe he has a crush on me?” You think out loud. Yeah…maybe that guy really did use to go to school with you? Maybe he- you have no idea but what other reason would there be? Would a Death Eater disapprove of assaulting women? Somehow you find that hard to believe.

The incident does not leave your mind. You become paranoid. Always checking your steps and looking around for that glimmer of light catching on a silver mask. Often you’d look out of your windows, watching the empty street but you don’t see the young Death Eater again. You expect him to come back any day to finish you off

One day you arrive at the Leaky Cauldron after your evening classes tired and hungry. It’s a little after ten and you decide to eat in the pub instead of cooking. An hour later you step outside and apparate onto the steps in front of the door to your flat. You secure the door with your usual spells and kick off your shoes before hurrying up the stairs. You want nothing more than to collapse into your bed-

Something isn’t right. It’s the faintest difference. A smell that is not quite right. A whisper of magic in the air that does not belong to you. The small hairs on your nape stand and your stomach clenches. You grip your wand tighter.

There is something on your floor. A large black something.

“What the fuck?” You mutter and drop your hand to your side. “What the fuck? No no no- get the fuck up, Snape!” He doesn’t move. He is lying face down in a puddle of blood in the middle of your flat. Where did he come from? How did he get in? Why is he here?

You kick him. 

It sounds like a logical choice in your head.

He doesn’t move.

“I have a Death Eater in my flat, on my floor. I have a dying Death Eater on my floor!” You panic. You are panicking. You kick him again. Nothing changes. “Shit shit shit!” You could just…kick him down the stairs and lock the door? How did he get in here?!

“Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck-” What do you do? What can you do? Why is he here? 

For lack of a better plan, you kick him again, but despite how gratifying it feels to let your aggression out on him you have to come up with a better idea. You can’t just keep kicking him!

Wary of the Death Eater on your floor you kneel down and press two fingers to the pulse point on his neck, ready to jump backwards at any point. His skin is burning up. What happened? 

You can’t just kick him down the stairs. It’s tempting. He’d deserve it- but that isn’t you. Besides it would take the Death Eaters not even two seconds to figure out who left him there to die and they might come back to hurt you.

You heave him into your bed and peel the blood-soaked clothes from his chest. There is a deep gash across his side. Blood steadily runs down his pale skin. What happened to him?

“He’s a Death Eater that’s what fucking happened to him.” You scold yourself. “And you are fucking helping him- fuck! Why did you choose my flat to die in, Snape?!” You flick your wand at him, and his own wand comes flying through the air, landing in your hand. You shove it into your pocket.

Snape looks like shit. He’s thinner than a few months ago, his skin paler and dark, deep shadows have seemingly permanently attached themselves to the skin under his eyes.

The glorious Death Eater that defeated Albus Dumbledore. 

You scoff.

“Good- that is that…disarming the Death Eater that is twice your size and can probably do wandless magic…or simply snatch them back from you because let’s be honest here - we aren’t a fighter!” You have no idea who you are talking to, but you feel hysteric and talking to oneself is what hysteric people do. Right? Right?

“Please don’t die here and start haunting me!”

“I’m not dying.” Snape grunts and you scream. 

“Fuck! Fuck fuck fuck- you scared the living shit out of me! What the fuck are you doing here?” Without bothering to answer you, he examines the wound on his side. He grimaces. 

“I advise you against attempting that.” The deep, velvety rumble of voice makes you shudder in all the wrong ways. You keep your wand trained on him anyway.

“Get the fuck out of my flat!” You hiss, raising your wand higher, keeping it aimed at him.

“So hostile.” He tuts. “Did I leave you unsatisfied last time?” 

“You’re a murderer!” Your voice is shaking, tears pool in your eyes and you have no fucking idea why you feel betrayed. You hadn’t spoken to Snape in five years before your one-night stand. But had you known…had you known he is a Death Eater you would have never let him into your bed.

“Yes.” Snape says and he somehow sounds bitter. What right has he to be bitter? “I heard you ran into some…trouble.” You shove your wand in his face and perhaps he sees in your eyes how serious you are, a faint promise of hexing him or something else, but he raises his bloodied hands slightly as if to tell you he isn’t a danger.

“Do you have a first-aid-kit? So I can get out of your hair.” You look at him, considering. You could make him leave. “I’m not a danger to you.” To you. To others, yes, but not you. You have no idea how to feel about that thinly veiled confession. You flick your wand towards your bathroom. Snape rummages through your first-aid-kit.

“Who the fuck doesn’t stock dittany?” He asks, glaring up at you while aggressively opening the fuckton of buttons on his robes. Who needs so many buttons?

“Why would I have fucking dittany? Sorry I did not expect you would choose my home to almost fucking die in!”

“I wouldn’t have died!” He sneers.

“Tell that to the puddle of blood on my floor. Why are you here?” He hesitates. His shoulders droop and he stops messing with his clothes. Something profoundly vulnerable flashes through his eyes.

“Where else would I go?” And that is that apparently. He peels back layers of blood-soaked clothes, and you try not to ogle him. He hadn’t taken off much of his clothes when he fucked you… 

The moonlight hides the currently sickish undertones of his pale skin, making him look like one of those marble statues you’ve seen in a muggle museum once. His skin is littered with scars, a visual reminder that this man is a Death Eater - a fact your body is more than willing to ignore judging by the uncomfortable, damp spot in your knickers. 

You watch him patch himself up from a safe distance, your wand pointed at him at all times. His fingers tremble, his skin is chalky pale and beads of sweat cling to his forehead, but his movements are precise and purposeful.

And yet-

You have never seen him like this.

Small somehow.

Vulnerable.

“I was told you were assaulted.” His voice is quiet, he usually speaks soft and quiet - a man like he never has any trouble getting a classroom full of hormonal teenagers to shut it. But today it’s different. There is something…inherently broken about the way he says the words and it gives you pause.

“So what? You decided to break in? Who do you think you are that you get to check up on me?” You spit the words at him because if you don’t, you might do other things and you really can’t afford that.

“That wasn’t-” He inhales sharply and impossibly enough pales even more. You summon a glass of water. “Thank you.” He whispers and downs the whole thing in one go.

“Wouldn’t want your cult friends to show up here because I let you die.”

“You should be careful what you say.” He doesn’t say it as a threat. He says it softly, with dread mixing into his worry.

“I thought you weren't a danger to me.”

“Plenty of people are.”

“Right…then. You know where the door is.” You nod towards it. Snape rises to his feet - far more graceful and steady than he has any right to with how shit he looks. He comes closer and you bite the inside of your cheek to resist the urge of stepping back. He comes closer still, his much larger frame hovering above you and any sliver of thinking Snape is small evaporates into thin air.

His silky hair falls into his face and hides it in the shadows of your flat, with only the moon illuminating the small space.

You take a shaky breath and attempt to ignore the heat between your bodies or the way your heart beats all wrong. His eyes have an intensity to them that makes you shudder and involuntarily recall how his hands felt on you…his breath dancing across your skin…the way he tastes-

“You still have my wand.” He says, his voice impossibly deeper and smokey and his eyes- these damn stunning stupid eyes that burn into yours, whispering promises of things you can’t even begin to wrap your mind around. 

You automatically close your fingers tighter around your own wand. He is so close now the tip of it digs into his chest. He doesn’t even flinch. Like the threat of a curse does not even affect him, like he doesn’t give a shit that you could simply kill him right now or perhaps it’s arrogance. He believes you incapable of it - which is the truth but still! Is it asking too much to want him to be at least a little afraid? 

Snape reaches out and his hand brushes over your side and you inhale sharply.

There must have been a lapse in the fabric of time - in the universe itself because suddenly you are kissing. You don’t know why or how but the wands clatter to the ground and Snape’s hands are on you and your body scream fuck the universe because this feels right.

Snape’s arms wrap around your smaller form and press you to his chest and you let him, weaving your hands into his hair while he claims your mouth with a feral hunger. You moan into the kiss and lean into his touch and try to smother the whisper in your head repeating the last two words you’d want to hear right now over and over.

Death Eater

You slide your tongue over his. There is a faint taste of iron in the kiss but it doesn’t matter. Snape’s fingers dig into your flesh like he is trying to devise a way to never have to let you go again.

He clings to you like a dying man to life.

Death Eater

He stumbles backwards and takes you with him, plopping down on the bed and pulling you into his lap. It feels natural. Your bodies fit together like two puzzle pieces and something somewhere in the universe just clicks.

You run your hands down his neck and over his shoulder, noting how much thinner he feels now compared to last time. You shove his frock and dress shirt down his shoulders. The feeling of his naked skin against your hands feels electrifying. A buzzing prickle seeping into your body through the pad of your fingers and spreading throughout your very being like blazing wildfire, pooling deep in your belly.

Death Eater

You moan into the kiss and grind against Snape, feeling his hard cock against your core through your knickers.

Death Eater

Two pairs of hands drop to his fly at one, frantically fumbling with buttons and stumbling over each other. Snape retreats and returns to thoroughly groping your arse under your skirt. You manage to free his cock and Snape helps lift your hips. You push your soaked knickers away and align his cock with your entrance.

“Fuck I forgot how big you are-” You hiss at the stretch. Snape kisses your neck and nibbles on your collarbone.

“Have you been with someone since-?” He leaves the question open. Further specifications aren’t needed. You are still slowly lowering yourself on his prick, until the delicious kind of stretch turns to a stinging stretch where you pause to give yourself time to adjust.

“-no.” You pant. Snape groans against your sternum and wraps his arms around you again, pulling you close. He kisses down your chest and over your breasts. Nuzzling you through the fabric of your blouse.

“Fucking hell-” You mutter once he is finally sheathed inside you. You’re out of breath and sweaty and so so full. His cock is throbbing against your inner walls, hot and thick and you need a moment to collect yourself.

“So good.” Snape groans and continues peppering kisses over your chest. You whimper in response. “You take my cock so fucking good-” He rips your blouse open and shoves your bra up, locking his lips around your nipple instantly. You moan and cling to his shoulders. Snape licks broad strokes over your nipple, alternates between sucking and kissing and grazing you with his teeth. 

His lust-drenched sounds make you squirm in his arms and arousal leak over his cock, soiling his trousers. 

It takes a little moment for you to get a hang of how to move on top of him, but once you’ve figured it out, you earn approving groans from Snape.

“Fucking missed you.” He murmurs against your skin.

“Did you now?” You raise a brow.

“I’m talking to your tits, dear.”

“You have issues.” You moan and sink back down on his cock.

“I thought we had already established that.”

“Yeah, when you decided my floor was the proper place to die!”

“Wouldn’t have died.” He groans and locks his lips around your nipple again. You cradle his head with your arms and rest your cheek against the crow of his head while bobbing up and down his length in an unsteady, unrefined rhythm.

Snape doesn’t seem to care.

And neither do you really.

The voice in your head shut up a while ago and you bid farewell to it, telling it to never come back.

Snape inhales sharply and you stop instantly.

“Did I hurt you?” You ask, unable to keep the worry out of your voice. Snape’s face is contorted in pain. He reaches for the footboard of your bed and his knuckles turn white under the force with which he holds onto it.

“Lie down.” You murmur and push against his shoulders gently. Snape looks at you both irritated and untrusting, but he eventually (less than gracefully) lowers his back onto the mattress.

You reposition yourself above him and lean back to brace your hands against his thighs right above his knees. Slowly you begin moving again. It feels awkward for a while but then you find the right angle and Snape presses his fingers against your clit, stroking tender circles over the throbbing bundle of nerves and pleasure overshadows any feeling of awkwardness.

“You’ve always been a fast learner.” Snape groans. “Such a studious girl.”

“When the subject interests me.” You chuckle and the corner of his mouth twitches.

“Am I an interesting subject?”

“Hmm…Certainly one I can’t seem to escape.” You raise your hips and sink back down, moaning in tune with the delicious stretch of his girth.

“Do you plan on almost dying on my floor in the future?”

Snape laughs, an uneasy sound accompanied by a concerning rattling sound coming from his lungs. “Are you planning on stocking Dittany in the future?”

“Nah, but I was thinking about getting a runner and- ow!” He slaps your thigh, not hard, but a pleasant sting runs through your flesh and the sudden slapping sound startled you. “Bastard.” You hiss and push yourself up, planting your hands on either side of his head, careful to avoid the dark strands of hair spread out around his head.

“Is that the thanks I get?”

“Thanks?” He hums. An expression of raw pleasure flickers over his face and it pulls you in, captures you like a fly in a sticky trap - and like a fly in a sticky trap you realise the danger you are in just by associating with Snape, not to mention by fucking him.

You never thought yourself to be a morally depraved woman but here you are, with the enemy quite literally in your bed.

An injured, weakened enemy. 

As if you’d have a chance against Severus Snape no matter how weak he is! No, leave the heroism to other people, people that value their lives less or think the world will be grateful for their heroism. 

You close your eyes and lean down to meet Snape’s lips, to get lost in the feeling of a warm body against yours, the mechanical workings of what a romance would feel like, to draw some comfort from a man that is willingly giving it to you when all other male specimens on this earth seem to not give a shit about you.

“Started University.” You murmur against his lips. Snape has put his hands on your arse and is helping your movement, pulling you and down on his cock, guiding your cunt or using it for his own pleasure or revelling in having a former student of his so messed up she lets him fuck her. 

“I heard. I’m glad.” He mutters back and takes your bottom lip between his teeth.

“Keeping taps on me?”

“Only a little.” And it’s back to kissing. Wet, heated, burning kisses. And passion or maybe erratic obsession but if obsession feels this good what does it matter?

The heat of his tongue against yours, his hands squeezing your arse, his breath dancing over your face, his cock spearing open your cunt repeatedly, it collects inside you, runs through your limbs and veins and fills your whole body. You can feel it rushing alongside your blood, feel your body respond to it by picking up the pace of your heartbeat, sweet clinging to your skin, especially on your thighs that straddle Snape’s. It floats through your body and eventually pools in your lower belly and deep inside your cunt, welcoming Snape’s prick on each thrust by splitting into two and regenerating like cell division-

Heat grows and morphs and hardens into a brooding mass that threatens to rip free of you. It scratches against your insides, searching desperately for a way out, a way to release this pressure and then Snape presses his thumb down on your clit and it rips free of you. Snape thrust up into you in one hard stroke and he groans, his grip on your arse tightening and you collapse above him and he pulls you down by putting his arms around your torso - his wound long forgotten by both of you.

His cock throbs as he spills inside you, splatters of warm, sticky cum painting your inner walls and with a content hum you rock against his softening cock to relish the last flickers of your orgasm.

Snape grunts - a pained one this time - and you push your trembling body up and lift your hips to sit down on the bed next to him. His now limp cock slips out of you and you hate that you miss the feeling of it, hate the emptiness left behind. You pull your knees to your chest and lean against the headboard of your bed, staring at the window just to not look at Snape.

“I-” Snape begins but stops himself. With another pained grunt he sits up and does the many buttons of his clothes back up. He sighs and rubs his hands over his face, raking through his hair. “I will try to not almost die on your floor again.”

“Good.” You want to sound stern, but it comes out sounding exhausted and confused.

“Good.” He murmurs. A knock on your door rips you from your thoughts. Who would knock so late? Perhaps it’s your elderly neighbour…

You pick your wand up from the floor and fix your skirt and blouse and walk towards the door.

Still caught in a whirlwind of confusing and contradicting feelings and perhaps Snape’s presence has led you to let down your guard a little, whatever it is you forget to cast your detection charms before opening the door-

Silver glimmers in the moonlight. You recognise the mask. It’s the young Death Eater that killed the man who wanted to assault you. He is flanked by two taller Death Eaters. Whatever you had wanted to say gets stuck in your throat as it swells shut. Just out of their sight you grip your wand tighter.

“Miss.” The young one says. “Apologies for the interruption.” Why the fuck is a Death Eater addressing you so polite? Movement behind you catches your attention but you don’t dare move.

“Was I not clear enough when I said this shop is not to be disturbed.” Snape drawls and all hints of pain or injury have left his voice. He looms behind you, tall and menacing and you can actually see the taller Death Eaters shrink back.

“My mistake. Again, apologies, Miss. Your presence is requested, Sir.” The younger one says to Snape.

“Do not repeat it in the future.” Snape scoffs. He ignores them and closes the door.

You can’t seem to find your voice again.

“This all will be over soon.”

“How do you know?” You whisper, uncertain what Snape means. What will be over? The resistance? You-Know-Who? His presence in your life?

“I hope you won’t have to see me again.” His lips brush your forehead ever so slightly, his fingertips dancing over your arms.

He turns to leave.

“Snape-” You don’t know what to say. His eyes linger on you for a moment, you think to see something flash in them, a hint of some deeply buried emotion but then he turns, opens the door again and he is gone.

You lean your forehead against the smooth wood. You can still feel his touch lingering-

A sob tears through the silence and you press your hand to your mouth as you sink to the floor and you don’t even know why. You kneel on the floor in front of your door and sob and cry.

When you eventually regain your composure and return to your flat you are met with the sight of drying blood…

The next day you go to the apothecary down the street and buy a bottle of Dittany.

| Part 3 |

#severus snape x reader #ao3 fanfic #snape x reader #snape x you #severus snape smut #dividers by cafekitsune

[igotanidea]

No strings attached (2) : neighbor!JT x reader

masterlist

part. 1

***

„What happened?”

When Jason came into the staircase the first thing he noticed was Y/N, who was crouching next to her door with a sad face, cleaning something that seemed awfully like….

“Is that blood?!” he yelled, falling to his knees right next to her.

“What?” she scoffed “Of course not, are you crazy? It’s just paint.”

“sorry….” He mumbled. Jason had way to much experience with blood to not think about that particular thing when he saw Y/N’s door swimming in color red. “Who did this?”

“I have some ideas.” She retorted pointing at one half-scratched word, that at the moment were proudly announcing to the world that she was a bitch. “Guess your lady friend really doesn’t like me.”

“I’m sorry.” Jason said again, a bit of remorse showing on his face “let me help you with this. It’s only fair given the fact it’s all my fault.”

“I can handle it.”

“Please, Y/n.” he whispered and only then she turned around to fully look at him. Well he was fine. Tall and well-build with a mop of black hair with a single white strand right above the forehead and pretty green eyes that were currently showing all of his remorse for the situation.

“What happened to your hair?” she asked just to deflect the tension she felt and that question took them both by surprise.

“It’s…. kinda long story.”

“Really? So it has nothing to do with acting like a bad boy and trying to keep your cool?”

“What?”

“Nothing.” She shook her head and smiled lightly “it’s fine if you don’t want to talk. After all we don’t really know each other.”

“But…..” he tried to chime in but she didn’t let him.

“given the circumstances I think it’s better if you just stay away from me, Jason. I mean look what happened after the first time we talked. Next time some other of your ex-girlfriend see me with you, I’ll probably end up with a knife in my chest or an acid on my face. Not exactly a nice perspective, am I right?”

“She’s not my girlfriend.” Jason hissed trying to reach for the sponge Y/N was using to clean.

“Yeah, sure. Does she know that?”

“I told her!”

“Sorry sunshine, but take it from a girl with experience. She won’t let go easily. I know I wouldn’t.” She babbled and put her hand inside the bucket with water, accidentally touching Jason’s hand. Only then her eyes grew wide at the sudden realization of what she said dawning on her.

“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?” Jason smirked and raised an eyebrow, even if that sudden touch was … nice, to say the least. Gentle, delicate, like nothing he was used to. Definitely not while patrolling and fighting at night. And even when he had female friends it was always physical. Rough animal fuck just to satisfy the basic needs. And it was fine. Convenient for both parties.

Jason was only familiar with pain, anger and a flood of sudden contradictory feelings in both Red Hood and Jason Todd version. And to his own surprise he enjoyed something different coming from Y/N even if she almost immediately retrieved her hand, not giving him w chance to dwell on that feeling.

“No.” she simply said. Nothing more. No explanation, no blushing, no excuses. Just one simple no.

“Shame. I think you are hot too.”

“Sure” she laughed so hard she actually started crying “I’m hot. That’s a hell of a good joke Todd. I look nothing like the hot girls. I mean, look at me.”

“I am…..”

“I’m not skinny, I hate wearing short and dresses because of my curves and I definitely don’t skip on meals just to lose weight and it shows. To quote a classic: I ain’t no size two. I’m fine with the way I look, but I am definitely not hot.”

 “And yet, Madison clearly treats you like a threat.” He pointed out

“a threat?” the girl raised an eyebrow “nah, not at all. I’m nothing more than a stain on her fancy clothes. A stain you need to eradicate and that is precisely what she’s doing.”

“I don’t ….”

“I meant what I said, Todd. You better stay away from me. I really don’t need any more trouble than I already have.”

“Am I trouble to you?”

“You scream trouble. In more ways than one.” She rolled her eyes “I don’t know about you, but I’m fine with silently passing each other on the stairs. I’m not known for being too open with people.”

“Guess we have that in common.” He scratched his neck in an awkward way, wondering what he could possibly say to make her change her mind. The fact was, the more she was trying to push him away, the more he wanted to pull her in. He might have not been the one to form a true relationship, but the way she was acting and pointing at her body barely seconds before, got his mind spinning. He wondered how it would be like to have her. To have an innocent, maybe a bit shy girl and not a vamp, he was so used to, just to get himself off. How it would be like to feel her underneath him, get those soft hands on his body, to kiss all those places where she was insecure, whisper sweet nothings into her ear while making her feel good. Cause sure as hell he would. How it would be like to map her whole body, find the spots that would make her melt into him and elicit sweet whines and moans out of her, all of that while pressing her into the mattress or wall, seeing her face twisting in pleasure, maybe making her scream his name when she came …... Shit! What was happening to him!? He barely met her and she was his neighbor for fuck’s sake. Maybe all of those one-night stands finally messed up his brain. That was what he was doing. One and done? Sure, even if some girls were becoming clingy after one night (Madison being the best example). But fucking a neighbor he would pass by on a daily basis was surely not a good idea. At all.

“Great. I suppose we just made ourselves a deal.” suddenly she stood up bringing him back to reality “wanna shake on it?”

For a moment Jason hesitated. On one hand he wanted to feel her touch again, craved it even. On the other was fully aware that given his not-so-innocent fantasy-filled brain he wouldn’t be able to settle only on that. So he shook his head as an answer, refusing to fuel the fire inside him any further.

“Too bad.” She pouted “Anyway, it’s late and this stupid stain is not coming off. Guess that’s me saying goodbye to my deposit money” Y/N laughed bitterly “I’m just going to head to bed and I suggest you do the same.” She opened the door to her apartment, turning to face him before disappearing inside. ‘Good night, Jason.” she smiled lightly.

“Good night, Y/N” he whispered back, barely holding himself from grabbing her waist, pushing her into the wall and forcing his way in with her.  

*** 

It was not a good night.

Well, definitely not for Jason.

It was irrational and crazy on so many levels, but he simply wanted the girl next door. And once he felt that desire there was no chances for him to let this go.

And the fact that she was giving him mixed signals was not helping at all. Did she tell him to stay away? Yes. But did she said goodbye with that pretty smile and sparkling eyes? Also yes. And fuck if Jason didn’t want to take some action with her.

But then again. He wasn’t doing relationship and hooking up with the neighbor, especially someone who seemed as kind and nice as Y/N would only cause trouble.

“Fuck!” he hissed to himself, barely capable of focusing on patrolling, beating the shit out of the criminals in more violent way than ever, getting needy and horny just by thinking about her. What was she doing at the moment? Was she thinking about him too? In the way he was thinking about her? No, that was nonsense, she had every reason to hate him. But maybe that hate would turn into some tension relieving and getting herself off? Alone? Was she lying in her own bed, touching herself, trying to get that sweet high? Fuck, he would be more than happy to help her with that. To introduce her to new levels of pleasure and ecstasy, which he was perfectly capable of providing.  

If he were to knock on her door right that moment would she even bother opening? Dressed only in her pajamas or even better, wrapped up only in a towel, straight after shower making it so much easier for him to get what he wanted and needed?

Shit.

He could imagine her curvy body, still a bit damp from the water, her sweet smell, the softness of her hair. Her innocent, surprised gaze – the same she made when he first asked her to play his girlfriend in front of Madison.  Holy shit, was she a virgin? Oh, he would be more than happy to be her first. The first to touch her body in a way she never knew before, to make her a woman.  

“Fuck, just stop you idiot!” his mind was definitely falling into straight-from-porn fantasies. “Just stop it!”

But it was easier said than done and getting progressively more painful with every passing minute. And if he wasn’t careful some of the bats patrolling nearby would notice the tent in his jeans and tease him about it. So gathering all his strength, both mental and physical he started beating all those crime lords to a bloody pulp. The sign and smell of blood making him calm down a bit, drawing back the memories of the time when he was the one being beaten with a fucking crowbar and finally – killed.

Yeah, it definitely did wonders to his excitement, but nothing for his mental state and it quickly became more visible than the tent in the jeans.

‘Jace?” of course his caring older brother had to ask “are you doing all right? You got that gaze….”

“Just fuck off, Grayson!” Jason yelled not able to hold himself anymore. “Just fuck off!”

“What is wrong with him today?” Tim’s voice echoed through the comms, but before anyone could give him an answer Jason took off running leaving the surprised bats behind.

God, he just needed to be alone for a few minutes to help himself.

#jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #jason todd x plus size reader #red hood x plus size reader #jason todd angst #jason todd fluff #jason todd smut #jason todd fanfiction #jason todd imagine #jason todd #jason todd x fem!reader #jason todd x oc #jason todd x you #jason todd x y/n #red hood fanfiction #red hood imagine #red hood angst #red hood x fem!reader #red hood #red hood x y/n #angst #dc angst #red hood fluff

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for not liking when my boyfriend tells me no (in some contexts)?

This is something that kinda made me blow up recently and i wanted to know from an outside perspective whether whats upsetting me is insane or not.

My (23F) boyfriend (23M) has the speech habit (and it's not just him, theres plenty of people who do this, i just talk to him a lot) of saying "no/youre wrong" whenever i say something that's half-right (like an oversimplification) or i say 2 things, and 1 is right 1 is wrong. And it really fucking bugs me because it makes me feel SO stupid and he does it when im not even wrong!

Most recently, i answered a quiz question that was like "if the year the roman empire fell were a wavelength in nm, what part of the EM spectrum would it be in?" And I knew the roman empire fell in 476, and i knew that was the visible light spectrum (which was the correct answer!). I then went 1 further and said "i think it would be red light."

My boyfriend then gave me 0 credit for answering the question right and said "no. it's blue light." This wasnt a quiz with any stakes btw, he just sent me the question because he thought it was funny and he knew id be able to answer it. But hes been acting like i answered that question totally incorrectly even though the actual literal answer was visible light, which i got correct.

This made me really upset that he would just shut me down and say "no" when all i did was get confused about which colors had which wavelengths. But he stands by saying i was wrong because "well, you WERE wrong." And he does this all the time about everything! I like to simplify/summarize things or exaggerate for effect, and he considers me doing that to be "wrong," and it really fucks up my ability to speak with him because it feels like he's shutting me down. And it makes me feel stupid as hell. Like ill be talking about a show with 8 seasons, so I'll say "that show had like 20 seasons, of course they were gonna have some bad episodes" and he'll say "no it didnt" and then ill say "okay like 10 seasons" and he'll say "no it didnt" and then what the fuck am i supposed to say? It feels like hes just trying to shut me up rather than listen to the gist of what im trying to say. But he says its because im just wrong about something and he's "letting me know," but there are SEVERAL better ways to let me know about that.

Tl:dr am i the asshole for getting offended when my boyfriend tells me im wrong about something whenever im half-right or exaggerating for effect?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

[wlw-imagines]

No Truth In It - Amelia Shepherd/Reader (Grey’s Anatomy)

request: I love your stories!!!! Could you do one with Amelia Shepherd where she and the reader decide to be in a fake relationship for whatever reason you'd like and then eventually it turns into a real relationship? If you do, thank you so much in advance!!! - anon

a/n: these are from my old tumblr thefandomwritings from back in 2018 ! re-vamped and re-purposed!! hope u enjoy and forgive the 2018 me style writing

Your day had started as a relatively normal day at the hospital. In some ways and in some people's opinions it may not have been normal at all but of course, it had to be taken in perspective.

But you were sure that in anyone's opinion what happened next was somewhat absurd.

The sound of hurried footsteps slowly drew your attention away from the chart you were holding and onto Amelia, power marching down the corridor looking frazzled and slightly panicky. Upon spotting you she smiled and dragged you away from the nurses you had been standing near and whispered, "You have to pretend to be my girlfriend."

"Excuse me?" You asked, taking time to actually look at the woman in front of you, quickly checking for any signs of her needing medical assistance. Surely she needed medical assistance. 

She just smiled innocently at you, leaving you feeling ever so slightly bewildered.

"My ex is- you just have to trust me.” She rambled on, still in a bit of a frenzy. “Pretend we're in love."

"I-"

She looked behind you, before interrupting your attempts at making sense of any of this with one demand. "Kiss me."

"I’m sorry... what?" Before you could do, think, or say anything else, Amelia had pulled on the lapels of your coat and brought your body as close to hers as she could. She held your gaze for a few moments and you returned a slightly startled look before she cocked her head to the side slightly. You frowned, nodding a little. Sometimes it was just easier to go along with Amelia’s plans than question them. 

Her eyes softened and she smiled, slowly moving forward and brushing your lips with her own. Your hands almost instinctively moved to her waist and hers were cupping your chin, keeping you close to her.

"Ahem, Amelia?" A feminine voice brought you back down to reality and you quickly parted from your colleague, taking a step back and clearing your throat. "Amelia Shepherd!"

"Oh, Joanne... Hi." You watched as she smiled at the woman, a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes making you curious about what was going on (and even more confused in general).

Joanne plowed on, "How are things? What are you up to now? How is the whole rehab thing going?" Asking one question after another. You found that you couldn't help but glare at this Joanne woman for asking such an invasive question and so you took a protective step towards Amelia way more quickly than you had previously stepped away from her. "Oh, and who is this?" She went on to ask, pointing at you but making a point of not looking at you.

Amelia glanced at you and smiled, "This is Y/N. She's my, uh, my girlfriend." You hesitated, sending her another alaramed look before smiling and nodding, eventually deciding that - fuck it - if the only way to be Amelia's girlfriend was through this weird situation of making a possible ex jealous (if that’s what was going on?) then you might as well go for it.

"Oh. Right, you moved on quick." Joanne laughed at her own comment. You felt Amelia tense up next to you and quickly held her back by wrapping an arm around her waist and holding her close to you. She glanced at you and softened again, taking a deep breath. "Well, I must admit that the real reason I came to seek you out today was to give you this."

The woman rummaged in her bag for a few moments, giving you time to properly look at her. It struck you that she really didn't seem like Amelia's type but maybe that was just wishful thinking. After all, the woman standing there was nothing like you and you wanted, more than anything, to be at least somewhat close to being Amelia's type.

Eventually, Joanne found what she was looking for and plucked out a deep pink envelope with a small sigh of satisfaction. She smiled, with a little glint in her eye, as she handed it over to Amelia.

There was an awful silence as Amelia realised what it was, "A wedding invitation?"

"Yes, Josh and I are getting married-" She beamed.

"Wow." Amelia quietly mused but still Joanne carried on, loving the sound of her own voice way too much.

"And I thought you would just love to stop by on my big day... As long as you don't suddenly confess you're still in love with me." She laughed again at her own comment. Your eyes widened at this strange woman and this weird encounter and at the fact that your assumptions had been correct.

"Great."

"Don't worry darling, you're more than welcome to bring a guest. Maybe your roommate or something. Although promise to keep that ghastly woman away from my family. You know they weren't big fans of your friends."

Amelia scoffed, "Sorry, what?" You could see how uncomfortable she was in this situation and to try and make it better, you did the only thing you could think of doing: Make this woman as jealous as you could.

"I'm sure Amelia would love to come but I'm afraid she's...” Your mouth had opened before your brain had decided on something to say, shit. Come on brain! “I'm- we're going house hunting." Okay, so maybe you weren't so great at this whole improv thing.

"Oh?"

You gulped and nodded, "Yes, I-" Amelia brightened up next to you, a cunning smile setting on her face.

"Y/N, surely we can put that on hold until next weekend? We wouldn't want to miss Joanne's wedding, of all things." Joanne tilted her head and let out an unimpressed little laugh.

"You mean, you're bringing her?" She finally looked directly at you, only to scoff and shake her head.

Amelia took hold of your hand again and brought it up to her lips, kissing your skin gently, "Of course."

You frowned, not intending to get yourself this deep in Amelia's dating drama, "You are?" You asked, trying to subtly shake your head.

"Yes. Maybe we can get some inspiration for our wedding." She beamed at you.

Joanne's smile quickly faded and she nodded, "Oh... well. That's just lovely. Marvellous, amazing." She muttered, evidently already hating your guts. "Anyway, I really should get going. I look forward to seeing you there, although if house hunting is planned I really wouldn't want you to miss out."

Amelia fake gasped and shook her head, "Oh, of course not. We're excited, right?" She squeezed your hand and you sighed.

"So excited." You said as sarcastically as you could. Standing next to each other and watching Joanne leave instantly made you feel better. You shuddered slightly and, once again, took a step away from Amelia, "What a vile woman." You muttered, picking your patient's chart back up and trying to focus - stop thinking about the kiss.

"I moved on fast? I moved on fast? She's the one that's getting married for fuck's sake!" Amelia ranted, frustratedly pacing beside you. You rolled your eyes and just grunted in response, trying to pretend your charts were more interesting.

"Mhmm."

"And the way she talked about my friends? Referring to them like that? Fuck you, Joanne." The fuming woman next to you stuck both her middle fingers up in the direction Joanne had left in.

"You do realise, she's gone?" You smiled, finally giving in and leaving your chart to the side.

"Well, I know that." She grumbled and pouted slightly. You both stood in silence for a few seconds, side by side, until Amelia perked up slightly, "But hey, we can show her what's what at her wedding, right? We can prepare. It'll be great-"

You shook your head and turned to face her, "Woah, no. We- I am not going to that wedding." The look on Amelia's face almost made you take it immediately back but then you remembered Joanne was a real life nightmare stuck in a human body, "Oh, come on, I don't know the woman! I don't want to know the woman. She sucks. What the hell were you doing dating her?"

"I know, okay? But firstly, I just want to say thank you for what you just did for me and also-"

"No, we're not going to the wedding. All right? I refuse." You firmly stood your ground, avoiding eye contact with Amelia.

"Why not?"

"Because!"

"Because?" She prompted, shuffling closer to you as she tried to catch your eye, "Hey, besides, I want to show off my girlfriend." You could see her grin slightly in the corner of your eye and you laughed, turning to her once again.

"You don't have a girlfriend!" Whilst there was a tiny ounce of hurt in her eyes, she pushed up her chin and raised an eyebrow.

"Come on! We're going. For me?” She tried again, but you stood firm. No way were you going to this wedding. “And you know, as your boss, I could always fire you if you say no." She smirked and started walking back down the corridor, the same way she had come.

You gasped slightly, "Amelia!"

"What, I'm just saying? Just think, there is bound to be a buffet. Free food?" She wriggled her eyebrows excitedly. You hid your laugh with a scoff and just shook your head. "See you for the wedding, gorgeous. I'll pick you up at 3:00." She shouted over her shoulder before rounding the corner and disappearing from sight.

Time to look for a wedding outfit then.

xxxxxxxxxxxx

"I hate you."

"You love me."

You sighed and crossed your arms over your chest, slouching in your chair, "There's no free buffet."

Amelia scoffed and nodded, "Which is great news." She took another swig at her water, finishing the glass.

"What? No." You shook your head like a small kid, "No, it's not. I've been here for 4 hours and it's the only thing I came for."

"Uh, it's great because it means it's a shit wedding. Everyone knows a great wedding has some kind of buffet." She smiled to herself before biting her lip and looking at your side profile. Even whilst you were sulking she had to admit you were cute, "And besides, I thought you came for my beauty and great skills of persuasion."

You hummed sarcastically, "Maybe the first one, definitely not the second." Amelia tried to hide her grin. Even if you were being sarcastic she still couldn't help the light blush creep onto her cheeks or a butterfly here and there in her stomach. She let the comfortable silence linger as she enjoyed the idea of being in a real relationship with you. The silence came to an end when she spotted a waiter carrying around slices of wedding cake, she called him down and took two slices.

"No free buffet but free cake is still good." She inched her chair closer to you, offering the cake as a symbol of peace. You gratefully took the cake and kissed Amelia's cheek.

Amelia sighed and looked at you in wonder, another great idea soon coming to her. She inched even closer to you and whispered in your ear.

"Hey, Joanne's looking, you gotta kiss me."

You frowned, looking around you, "What? Wher-"

Before you could finish, Amelia softly took your chin in her hand and turned your head to face her, "Hey, I don't make the rules." She softened her voice and slowly leant in, capturing every single feeling and memory that the kiss sparked. For a while, the two of you were in ignorant bliss, just using the excuse of making an ex jealous to move closer.

“Is she still there?” You asked, only inches away from Amelia.

“Let me check.” She looked over your shoulder behind you, and allowed a small frown to form before nodding, “Damn it, she is.”

“Oh, really?” You raised an eyebrow and Amelia shrugged, nodding.

“She’s walking over right now,” She looked back to you, “So we should probably kiss again. Only to make her jealous.”

You smiled, “You dated her for a while, right?” Amelia moved back slightly and slowly nodded, “Does she have a twin?”

She hesitates, clearly confused, “No, why?”

A small grin spread out onto your lips and you nodded over Amelia’s shoulder to the bride, her ex. “Just that I’m pretty sure she’s over there, not watching us.” You shrugged, “I wonder who you saw...” You make a show of looking over your shoulder, knowing that there she was never there to begin with.

“Okay, I’ve been rumbled.” Amelia admits and you turn back around to see her profusely blushing. 

You lightly squeeze her hand, “If I’d have thought of using that as an excuse, I would have a long time ago.”

She smiled warmly at you and pressed a kiss to your cheek, “You don’t need an excuse.”

Eventually you pulled slightly away, Amelia's hand still on your thigh, keeping you close. You took a minute just to look at the woman opposite you, really look at her, and to try and remember what this all felt like. It felt like home, like comfort. "Look, it's getting late. Shall I take you home?”

Amelia nodded, gathering her things, “God, I hate weddings.”

"Especially the ones without a buffet." You looked around at all the people trying to make conversation with the strangers next to them as you walked out of the building, desperately trying to avoid being caught by Joanne (which you were successful in).

Amelia looked down at the floor and linked arms with you, "I liked this one a little bit.”

"You did?"

"You made it more bearable."

"I try." You smiled, before moving your arm out from Amelia's and putting it on her lower back, "Come on, let's get you home."

"Mm, you're going to make such a great wife." She teased, getting into the car and shutting the door behind her.

The car ride back had been quick and full of comfortable silence. The radio had been on quietly and you had found yourself just humming along with Amelia next to you, staring at you every now and then.

It became worse once you had arrived at hers. The car ride silence was much more comfortable than this current torture anyway. You hated dating etiquette, especially when you weren't actually dating.

"So, thanks for being my fake partner." Amelia awkwardly smiled, getting her keys out and shuffling her feet as you both stood outside her doorway.

You nodded, "Any time."

She took a deep breath, turned to open the door before turning back to you and shooting you yet another awkward smile, with a little nervous laugh added in this time, "Couldn't have done it without you."

"Yeah, it's been a pleasure." You took a breath to say something, anything. Just so this wouldn't end but you came out with nothing. And all Amelia could add was another filler.

"Yes, good fun."

"Mhmm..." Even worse that all you could add was a noise. Why did brains fail to find the words to say when you needed them most? You were a doctor, for god's sake, you constantly worked under high pressure yet couldn't find a singular appropriate word to say.

You almost praised the lord when Amelia finally jumped the gun and said what you were hoping she would say from the very beginning of the night.

"Do you want to come in?" She hesitated but continued nevertheless, "I can put some coffee on and we can make out for a while." She asked as if it was the most innocent thing in the world. You let a grin spread on your face and let out relieved laugh.

"Now, that's what I'm talking about." You moved closer to her as she excitedly turned round to unlock her front door, "Obviously I'm only doing this as your fake girlfriend." You joked, still unable to cope without being awkward.

Amelia turned round again, standing in her hallway and shook her head, "Nope. Just as us, no fakeness about it." She took your hand to pull you in, and swiftly shut the door behind you.

"That definitely works for me." You nodded before rushing forward back into Amelia's arms for more than just an ex-girlfriend. This was for you, this was what you had wanted all along.

#amelia shepherd #amelia shepherd x #amelia shepherd x reader #amelia shepherd imagine #greys anatomy #greys anatomy x reader #greys anatomy imagine #greys anatomy x y/n #wlw imagines #WLW #wlw imagine #wlw x reader #wlw-imagines #No Truth In It #imagine #lesbian imagine #lgbt

[nalyra-dreaming]

About DM, having read som theories and speculations of yours and others I would love to add some of my thoughts and hear what you and @virginiaisforvampires and @cbrownjc thinks - if you are interested :)

1. Armand clearly reacted to Louis offering Daniel the Dark Gift, and reacted even more strongly to Daniel basically saying “No, thanks”. On the surface it seems in the latter instance that he was just offended by Daniel’s verbal barb, but I’m sure this is actually clever obfuscation by the writer/director/actor, no?

2. Given 1) and the foreknowledge of DM, Daniel responding ”A cure for Parkinson’s” when Armand (as Rashid) asked if Danial has everything he needs could be an unfired Chekhov’s gun…?

3. What really is/will become Armand’s endgame? I actually believe that it is as it seems, that Louis is the driving force behind this second interview. And that Armand actually be still be somewhat angry/resentful following the (presumed) breakup of DM. I think you speculated that Daniel might have wanted to leave to live a life since Armand refused to make him a vampire? While Armand might have wanted to spend the rest od Daniel’s mortal life with him? This would explain the charade, it being a way for Armand to either try to stop Daniel’s memories from resurfacing (per his request?) as well as Armand’s attitude in season one (as he seems annoyed with Daniel at times). Daniel’s terminal illness might be changing Armand’s mind however (á la DM), as previously suggested. Honestly? A part of me want to see some sort of fucked up Dracula situation, where it becomes clear gradually in a terrifying manner to Daniel that he is trapped by this ‘monster’ who claims to know him better than he knows himself/knows what’s best for him. The latter seemingly being a version of the dynamic playing out between Armand and Louis currently.

4. How will Daniel feel about Armand following season two? I think Daniel’s view of life and of the vampires has been shown to be quite different than to back in the 70s. His view of Armand must surely also be influenced by hearing of Louis’ bloody history of him? As he will presumably get to know Armand chiefly from Louis’ story and be quite critical of him - even viewing him as quite sinister as he realizes and gets Louis to realize the part Armand has played in tampering with their memories and Claudia’s death. Of course Armand is participating in the interview so his perspective will also come to light, and Daniel seems according to the trailers at one point be talking to Armand one-on-one. So he’s open to listening. I believe that Daniel’s view of Armand will be quite negative - even following the return of his memories, at least initially. That putting these memories and feelings together with his current view of life and view of Armand will be anything but simple. I would guess at this point that the romantic nature of their relationship is something that will be revealed very late - maybe even be a cliffhanger for the next season (together with other stuff).

5. A more nuanced view of Armand. However it wouldn’t completely surprise me if Louis, and possibly Daniel, somewhat consensually agreed to have some of their memories tampered with. I think Louis on some level after Claudia’s death might, due to his intense grief, wanted to emotionally “run away” so to speak. And that this series basically began with him for some reason or another now feeling ready to confront the past. So Armand’s seeming malevolence as a mind-manipulator will potentially be tampered by these facts. However Daniel will now presumably together with Louis find out about the role Armand played in Claudia’s death. Daniel’s empathy for Claudia is somewhat limited though, understandably as he has the human perspective and does, quite rightly, not excuse her murderous ways. But he might dislike Armand due to the self-serving aspect of the trial? Or maybe not?

6. At this point, I don’t think Louis and Daniel have been in a serious romantic relationship. I wouldn’t be surprised if they hooked up or something similar but Louis seemed very genuine and definitive in welcoming Daniel as a friend he met once/or a few times years ago recording the tapes. If he was hiding a past history and/or romantic relationship from Daniel I think he would behaved differently. Of course he could also not remember, but I don’t think that’s the case here.

7. I guess what I’m most curious about is what kind of dynamic will take form between Daniel and Armand during and immediately following season two? I would love to hear your thoughts. Also the Dracula comparison was not my idea but something I’ve read somewhere here. So sorry for long post! Love your blog!

Hey!

Glad you like! <3

Sorry this took a moment (the answer is also a bit longer^^)

He did. And yes, it might contain obfuscation, but mostly… I think Armand was almost afraid that Daniel would accept the gift from Louis. Maybe Louis offered before, maybe he did not, but Armand surely didn’t. And… Armand loves Daniel. Ultimately Daniel will be his only fledgling. There is a level of possessiveness to that, of course, and also to the not-healed bite marks on Daniel’s throat, which more than likely did not just stem from Louis’ attack (because Armand would have needed to heal Daniel there at least a bit, and over the following 12 years he bit Daniel often). I think there are a lot of things at play. For the book readers it is a nice little easter egg on various levels (both Daniel’s and Armand’s past together and also Armand’s personal past being referenced), but also something more hinted at, something we have not been shown yet. Though, given the title of that music part (Alice is in her third trimester) a while back - maybe we will get to see it. Something must have happened to make Armand let Daniel go, and the repeated refusal in the books served to open a rift between them. I could easily see that happen here as well. That said, it would mean that we will get a LOT more DM in s2 than thought so far… and I’m not sure that will be the case. What I could easily see is Daniel reminiscing (or getting memories back) about the moment he “got his shit together” as he called it in s1 - but I do not think we will get all of what that entailed yet.

Most certainly :) I think he’s already getting it. Fareed is not there to play around after all^^.

I have speculated that the aforementioned rift that developed through Armand’s repeated refusal to turn Daniel will lead to Daniel seeking other … comforts. But I think it would actually need a big reason (like a baby…) to make him struggle for real - and I could see someone else then decide to end that struggle. Put an end to the hunt/relationship because it was not good for Daniel, ultimately, and because Armand could not be moved. As per Armand… I think Armand did acquiesce to Louis’ wishes to have Daniel redo the interview, and he likely was not happy about it. I mean, imagine how it would be to see the love of your life... and said love of your life does not remember you. Verbally throws things at you. It must be a wild mix of feelings for Armand, from annoyance over helpless love to utter devastation. No wonder he tried to literally hide from it. I do think Armand was already aware of Daniel’s sickness - the aforementioned medicine by Fareed he is getting - that had to be prepared. Planned, designed. Researched. Whatever it is they are giving him is not what they claim it to be (the side effects don’t match), and… given Daniel is not stupid he might hone in on that pretty soon. Now, in the books there is a pharmaceutical empire that is led by a powerful ancient vampire, Gregory, and he and Seth (who is Akasha’s son and Fareed’s lover/maker) are roughly on the same level. Seth, but mostly Fareed, builds whole research centers for the vampires. There is a LOT of potential for the show to hook into that, and I actually think both the more physical sex and the absent death sleep during the day are thanks to Fareed. If that will ever be spelled out? No idea, but the first is something Fareed already makes happen in the books and the second is something he plans to remove… so I do think that is connected. I think whoever is orchestrating behind the scenes (coughs prime minister coughs) wanted to help Daniel to live long enough to maybe reconcile Armand and Daniel. And for that Daniel needs his memories back. If that is Armand though… the show will tell :)

Well, I think it will be the same as in the book when the memories come back - Daniel will realize that he “loved this thing”, this monster, despite everything. Despite knowing what Armand has done. That is part of the horror, that the lover overshadows everything he knows, and that he is, in a way, helpless against that. Oh, I’m sure there will be a development of feeling, of course. But ultimately Daniel will realize that he loved Armand - absolutely, totally - and then eventually he will realize that he still does. And that will make him just as confused and vulnerable and hurt, and emotional as it makes Armand.

I can easily see Louis saying something like “I want the pain to stop” or something similar, and then Armand taking that as his cue to interfere. The thing is, Armand back then… is not the Armand in Dubai. DM happened in-between and it changed him. So when Armand likely “tinkered” with Louis’ mind back then it was more to serve himself - when he “tinkered” with Louis’ mind later on it was likely to help Louis. However he did and what that tinkering might entail. So yes, Daniel might challenge him on his part in it all, of course. I am counting on it, actually. Because Daniel is there to pull the truth out of Armand - that is (part of) why the interview is being redone. And of course that will shape Daniel’s view of him further - only the feelings won’t care for that view when they come back. Armand was quite the “villain” in the earlier books - that changed a bit with the later ones. But he is still a coven master, and Lestat calls him “ruthless” in the books. The show will present both Armands to us in direct confrontation - and I bet the emotions of the audience will be just as tumultuous as Armand’s and Louis’ and Daniel’s own are by this confrontation.

Oh, Daniel and Louis… probably got along really well and even intimately during those 12 years. I think Louis definitely has a personal connection to him, much more than in the book. It’s a weird relationship triangle they have there, and soon Lestat will be added to the mix - and I bet it will be revealed that Daniel has met Lestat before (as well).

I think after s2 Daniel will still be an old man, still be the interviewer, the chronicler. But remembering much, much more, and therefore challenging whoever else is on that couch then (I expect Lestat) a lot more as well. For example wrt episode 5. I would bet real money that we will get episode 5 in s3 from Lestat’s POV. Because by now I think there was nothing random, or unplanned about it. This show is a puzzle, and we have had only a few pieces. I think Armand and Daniel… will be very … raw with each other. Emotions are high, vulnerability as well. There will be intimate moments, but also rejection. Daniel’s view on eternity will change at some point, and probably rather rapidly with the memories coming back. There will be anger at the meddling. Daniel is no pushover. He will challenge them, and especially Armand. At some point he will realize that he does not need to ask - he can demand, to an extent at least. And that will change the dynamic once more.

It will be very, very interesting to watch^^.

#Anonymous #asks #ask nalyra #amc iwtv #iwtv #amc interview with the vampire #interview with the vampire amc #iwtv amc #iwtv 2022 #interview with the vampire #louis de pointe du lac #armand #loumand #the devil's minion #daniel molloy #devil's minion #lestat de lioncourt #the brat prince #iwtv lestat #future season speculation

[maxybabyy]

loosely inspired by that dropout prompt of having sex at abstinence-camp.

His face prickles under the hot sun.

It’s been like this since he arrived at camp. Daniel itchy from the heat, face flushed like he hasn’t been using SPF 50 twice daily. Waking up feeling raw, tender in a way he hasn’t before. His temper is fucked too, he reckons, feels probably like a live wire would – jittery, shaky.

“Daniel,” Max says, voice soft as he tugs on his arm. “What is this? I thought – always Wednesday we are in the kayaks. I have even my vest here already. What will we do indoors?”

Daniel looks at him, at the bright pink vest stretched across his chest. His shoulders are burnt, skin flaky where Daniel had rubbed in the aloe vera. His sheets smell of it now, and he thinks, maybe, that’s part of it too – why he feels like this, sensitive. Allergic to that too, probably.

“No worries, Maxy. I will take lead on this, just. Watch,” Daniel tells him, shakes him off as he walks to the front.

Behind him, Max purses his lips but he falls into step quickly.

“Alright, everyone! Listen up and gather round,” Daniel calls out. He hauls the box of pamphlets up from the floor and shoves a handful into Max’s hands, makes him pass them out. “Find a seat and fill your glass with water.”

They like for them to keep it fresh, trying out new ways to show it so the kids won’t become bored. Last year they had done tape on the arm, the year before that, paper balls. But Daniel thinks this will work too.

“Daniel, what does this mean, danger zone?” Max asks, a frown etched deep in his brows. He hasn’t handed out the pamphlets yet, eyes skimming across the front of one. “HIV – Daniel, if you are worried about this, you should of course give them condoms and tell them to be safe. This will not help them.”

“Today, we are going to be talking about your flower,” Daniel says, pulling the pamphlets from Max’s hands and placing them in the middle, ready for them to be taken, shared. “As you can see, you should all have a glass of water in front of you –“

He knows it’s the first year Max is with them, that he had come without any experience, a recommendation from his youth group even. But he had fit in well, stuck to Daniel like they had been mates for years.

There had been a flood the first week in, tore down the cabin that Max had been in charge of. So they had squeezed together in Daniel’s bed instead. Obviously like, Daniel had offered to sleep in reverse, with his head in the foot end, so they wouldn’t touch dicks. But Max had told him, “I will sleep like this, then you of course can be behind me,” and so that’s what they had done.

Only once had it been like, weird.

Daniel had been dreaming about this hot-ass, blonde beach babe, with like, short hair and her nipples out, the swell of her tits barely there as they fooled around on the shore. She had been reaching into his shorts with nice, warm hands – built for tennis, maybe. Or like, paddle, probably – when Daniel had woken up and come in his pants.

Max had watched him sneak back into bed, blue eyes sharp in the dark, and the shame Daniel had felt – hot, persistent, raw – still hasn’t washed away.

“And when you tip it over – go ahead, tip it over! Careful not to smash the glass,” instructs Daniel now, ignoring the way Max hovers behind him. Water flows from the cups, soaking the tables. Only one pair manages to break the glass, but Max is there like a hawk, nudging them away before cleaning it up.

“Now take your cup – Billy, Jody, join up with someone else – and try to put the water back into it.”

The room blooms with frustration, water sloshed onto the floor, and another glass shatters. And even then, the glasses stay empty. Forever changed by one small misstep.

“See how it won’t go back in? That’s what losing your virginity is like,” Daniel says before stepping back. He knows the in-group conversation is more important than anything he can tell them, the quiet reflection. To put it into perspective.

“Daniel, this is of course so silly,” Max says, almost directly into his ear. Daniel shivers from the shock, pulls his shoulders to his ears. “Always you can just put more water in, and no one will know,” he says, pouring water from the bottle into Daniel’s cup.

“See? It looks full again.”

Daniel frowns, looks at the cup that does, remarkedly, look like it did before. “Obviously that’s not the point, Max. It’s not the same. You can never put the water back into the –“

“What is virginity, Daniel? The cup or the water?”

“Obviously it is –“ Daniel says, scoffs at him. He feels the flush of frustration tear through him, how it makes the tips of his fingers buzz, his knees weak with defeat. His chest feels – weird. Like his heart is beating from somewhere else, his throat maybe, or his head, loud in his ears even.

“What does it matter? If it’s the cup or the water. It’s an analogy, Max!”

The worst part is, Max doesn’t even look upset. Confused, maybe, but there’s no part of him that looks the way Daniel feels right now. Hot and bothered, angry at the world, at Max.

“Well, it’s a shit analogy then,” Max says and smirks, and for a second, Daniel hates him.

“How the fuck would you know?”

They’re supposed to be partners, is the thing. Daniel had asked, told the boss to switch the pairs around, to make Max his mate. And the summer had become all the better for it.

Max likes all the same shit as him: racing karts and skinny dipping at night when the kids are asleep. He touches Daniel like they’re best friends, wrestles him to the ground and doesn’t get up until he says uncle. Even the shit he doesn’t care about, he pretends to like for Daniel’s sake.

Once, Daniel had like, sprained his wrist falling from one of the trees. It had been right around his birthday too, and Daniel had felt like shit, side-lined from all the activities. Max had found him in the cabin, eyes wet with tears, homesick. And he had just – laid down next to him, held his hand and told him about home until Daniel’s heart had felt light and free.

Now he sucks in a breath to calm himself. But in the end, it doesn’t even matter, because Max tugs on his arm as soon as Daniel looks at him, curls his hand around his elbow and says, “Daniel, I am of course not a virgin.”

#they fuck in the tool shed after lunch. and then again during night duty. and reflection hour and - #maxiel fic #max/daniel #my fic #my writing #fic #maxiel

[gothicgunslinger]

Inspired by : https://open.spotify.com/track/1hrar0wbUsvgSUpUXR5Wq0?si=SgEVGItEQOeXVQm3ZqidSQ

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A/N : I just HAD to write an actual piece for this post so, here we are. Sorry to my RDR2 followers, I hope you don't mind the small detour.

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Content : Fluff, maybe a bit of angst? Smut, but, fluffy smut? You’ll see. Implied Cleric reader, as.. my tav is a Cleric LOL! Fem reader, as I'm writing this .. once again, as a woman haha apologies ♡ Sort of written from Astarion’s perspective.

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It was simple, really. All Astarion had to do, was wrap you around even the slight of his pinky finger. Kiss you enough, fuck you enough, drink you enough. Simplicities, for someone like him. And, at first, that stance hadn't changed – hadn't faltered, hadn't a shred of doubt. You were merely a glass of fine, red wine who smiled, so sweetly, up at him – and he smiled back.

Well, that was until you weren't.

Wine glasses, to people, are mundane things. Things they don't think twice about, things that they use.

Though, for some, perhaps a wine glass was a gift. Something special, something precious – they'd never want it to shatter, to lose it. And, Astarion felt himself unfortunate enough to understand this, now.

He winced, everytime you were injured during the multitude of fights that your band of misfits so often found themselves in. He despised you, at times, for using that damn warding bond.

"Astarion, wait! Before we go anywhere!" You would hurriedly call out, rosy cheeked – perfect hands in poise as you cast your magic, swearing him from any harm; only to deal that harm directly to yourself. And you did so with a warm, wide smile, even when your skin was destined to be bloodied.

Astarion was always quick to help you back up, on your feet – it was all, 'part of the act’. Though, Wyll wasn't fooled, not one bit.

"Here let me–" And his hand was swiftly swat away by Astarion, like a petulant child. "No!" He'd hiss, as stereotypical vampires would (albeit, that he's 'only a spawn', and yada yada). Astarion's movements were uncharacteristically careful as he rest your head upon his knee, delicate fingers fixing any misplaced strands of hair. The hair he loved so dearly, that looked so perfect on you.

Wyll watched with his brow raised, and head notably cocked to the side – arms folded over his chest. Despite the trials and tribulations of his life, Wyll knew love when he saw it. And he saw it in Astarion's eyes.

Whatever you wanted to name this.. predicament – it plagued Astarion’s mind. Worse than that cursed tadpole squirming around the grooves and crevices of his skull. In fact, he was sure he’d much rather transform into a mindflayer – be free of these, complicated feelings. These fleeting thoughts, and constant questions. If he were sensible, no, if he weren’t a coward – Astarion knew that simply talking with you, being honest, abandoning his bravado would be the solution to such a grandiose problem.

Still, he continued to narrowly and expertly avoid the conversation – swift, unserious as ever. Until, that is, the trapper became the trapped.

“You’re not enjoying this, are you?” You’d asked, his head between your thighs – tongue, lapping at your weeping cunt. Red, terrified eyes peer up – before, the rest of the face paired with them, followed. “What? Of course I am, darling.” By Astarion’s standards, that was a terrible lie. And you knew it, just as much as he did.

“Astarion, I think we’ve reached the point of me having the right to say, ‘talk to me.’ So, talk to me, please?” Of course, you had to be so kind. To look at him like that – begging, doe-eyes, reddened cheeks and parted lips. Gods damn him.

“Fine, I– sex isn’t easy for me. I feel like.. I’m just, abusing it. Using you, while also.. feeling used? I don’t– I don’t know. I hadn’t expected you to notice.” His eyes flit to the bedroll beneath the two of you, brows knitted in frustration, vulnerability. Your hands reach out, cupping his cheeks in your palms with such tenderness that he was sure he could feel his chest tighten – a lump, swell in his throat.

“Then, why don’t I show you how to make love, instead? It might.. feel better. Let me, let me take care of you. Show you, how I feel.” You suggest, voice softer than he was sure he’d ever heard it. Wordlessly, Astarion nods, his fingers curling around your wrists tentatively.

Your lips, press to his forehead – the bridge of his nose, each cheek, both corners of his lips. All he can do, is let you. His defence crumbling with each shared breath between you. His walls, tumbling down, brick by brick.

Featherlight, your fingers grace his neck – tips, trailing the outline of his bite. Those, wretched, puncture wounds that would forever scar his flesh – alongside other things.

“I haven’t met many like you in my lifetime, Astarion. But, I’m assured you’re the most beautiful creature I’ll ever lay eyes on.” His jaw clenched.

“I’m a monster, darling.”

“Are you? I don’t see a monster, here.” You part from him, only to reposition yourself at his back. He shivers, as your lips brush his tainted flesh – pretty, pink mouth, brinking the outline of his ‘gift’. Astarion huffs, “What are you doing? You needn’t pay mind to something so unsightly.”

“I want this to mean something else to you. I want you to remember this, us. Not Cazador.”

Gods, you had to stop. How are you so.. perfect? So, forgiving?

Your arms lace around his waist, your chest pressed flush to his back – chin, upon his shoulder, granting you the access you’d needed to litter kisses at the nape of his neck. “Feel with me,” You murmur, between planted kisses, “See me, as I see you.”

Finally, Astarion moves. His hands envelope your own, cold yet careful, drawing your arms from around his waist – guiding you on top of him, as he lay upon his back. You follow his direction with ease, and without question. Obedient, like the good pup you always were for him. And him only.

He breezes a hand through your hair, gazing up at you – eyes dancing over your features, over every freckle and crease. There is something different in his eyes.

“I do see you.”

Silence. Though, you tilt your head – one of your many, endearingly inquisitive quirks. Astarion continues, “I.. I don’t recall being in love with anybody. Courting and sex were both equal schemes to successfully provide victims for Cazador. It never meant anything else, it couldn’t. But you.. you’re here, and I..”

Your thumb trails his lower lip, and there’s a devastatingly beautiful look upon your expression. “Thank you.” Is all you say, and Astarion felt it was enough. Acceptance. Yes, he needed that.

Your lips reunite, and Astarion chokes back a soft sob. You shake your head, “Feel.”

Tears stream his cheeks, as you pepper kisses to his neck, his collarbones, and his chest. Had this been anyone else, he’d have been humiliated. But, it’s you. It’s you and he feels safe.

Still, he can’t help the, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry..” that pours from his mouth. To which, you simply shush him, tongue circling his nipple – making his thighs tense. With a sniffle, his fingers bury in your hair – tightening whenever you flicked the tip of your tongue, in a way that he liked just a little too much. Well, speaking as though you could ever be too much for him.

A strained moan escapes him, as your thighs settle either side of his hips – as you sink down, sheathing him inside of you. Up, and down, at a steady pace, your legs agreeing to suffer the twinging ache and pain. Astarion’s hands are at your hips, then your waist – where they stay, occasionally running over the curve.

Your walls flutter around him, and he whimpers – loud enough to bypass the typical, wet sounds of your sex. Astarion is a man of many talents, including his ability to last in bed – even with a woman as magnificent as yourself. But like this? He wasn’t sure he stood a chance, throbbing – his eyes squeezed shut.

All knowing as you are, you quicken your pace, “Come for me, my love. Come for me, it’s okay, it’s alright.”

Oh, if only you hadn’t asked so nicely. Right on the cusp, Astarion now crashes – tips over the edge, filling you to the brim with a strangled whine. In praise, you shower him in kisses – despite his skin being glazed in sweat, his hair sticky upon his forehead – curls haphazardly strewn.

“I think I like you best when you’re a little messy.” You half-confess, smile evident in your voice.

“I wish you didn’t.” Astarion grumbles, in his usual fashion – still, you notice a flicker of a smile in response to your own that you wear.

“What else do you wish?” You ask, gently.

“That you knew how much I love you..” He wasn’t sure he meant to say that aloud.

“I think I know already.”

#baldurs gate iii #baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate astarion #astarion #bg3 #bg3 posting #astarion x you #astarion x female reader #astarion x reader #fluff #smut #angst #one shot #fanfic

[chokchokk]

𝚛𝚒𝚍𝚎-𝚊𝚗𝚍-𝚍𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 | jung wooyoung x fem!reader

a one-sided (best) friends one night!wooyoung one-shot

“Aw, are you gonna be my best friend in need, Woo?”

𝚜𝚢𝚗𝚘𝚙𝚜𝚒𝚜 : At least the car didn’t fall and crash, right? That’s what Wooyoung wants to believe.

"Shut the fuck up and let me fuck you."

[ now playing : " bonnie & clyde " ▸ dean ]

𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎 : angst, smut

𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝 : 3.2k

spotify link | series masterlist link

𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐(𝚜) : unreciprocated romantic feelings, sexual tension, best friends hooking up, one-night-stand, cabriolet-driving at night, open roof, illegal parking, making out, car sex; wooyoung masturbates to you, wooyoung’s present perspective/narrative, he's so horny and so in love, interactive?, at least quite confrontational

masterlist link | join my taglist

𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚛'𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚎 : aight um... i wrote this? in one heart-breakingly missing my hubba bubba daddy dean hours session. i skipped over the second verse out of length and plot purposes + the translations provided are like 80% mine and if not then from genius <33

always grateful for for your likes, reblogs and feedback xoxo!!!

𝚝𝚊𝚐-𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 : @r1kitti : @sanniesbunnie : @northerngalxy @sanwhalvr : @revehosh : @fandems

He looked at you, even though Wooyoung knew he shouldn't.

Right now, right now Could I tell you right now?

His eyes should have been on the road, his hands should have been on the steering wheel, and haha, his thoughts should have definitely been about your safety and not about how he wanted to either drive off a cliff or tear the clothes off your amazing fucking body, but you picked the second choice yourself anyway, didn’t you? Just getting that shirt off like it’s nothing, revealing yourself like it’s nothing, but… God, Y/N, you are everything to him, he had no other choice.

아직까지 깨어있니? 오늘 너의 하루는 어땠니? 아무 일도 없긴 뭐가 없어

(Are you still awake? ; How was your day today? What do you mean, 'nothing happened'?)

Wooyoung wants it to be your fault. Wants it to be your fault that when you called him, his brain was filled with the image of you swimming in the ocean in that thing of a bikini that you wore to make your ex jealous even if he was not present on any day during the vacation except in your head, and he desperately wants it to be your fault that, after you had disappeared with some dumb-fucking rando from the beach-bar for the evening, Wooyoung scoffed in malicious glee that you let him know it hadn’t led to anything, grabbing his keys immediately to pick you up from the place you didn't find luck at.

What he’s trying to say is that you’re really in luck he didn’t grab that liquor that night. 

가끔은 외면하려 해도 꽤 쉽지만은 않은 게 있어 I know 다 안다고

(I try to look away sometimes, but there are just some things that aren’t that easy, I know; I know it all)

But maybe being sober was the worst part.

He hid it well, Wooyoung thinks, or you were just too drunk to care, when you caught his curious gaze through the window, with your tits still sitting safely in the bra, your shirt already thrown out of the cabriolet.

“Woo!”, you laughed, and he can still hear the tenderness of your voice vividly, “eyes on the road~”

“Your tits looked bigger than I remember,” was his immediate answer, and your giggle was worth the cringe, “had to double-check.”

The last time he saw them was, what, middle-school truth or dare? Of course they grew since then, you were explaining in drunkenness and looked at your own set of boobs, while pushing them together, mumbling something about puberty, hormones and horny teenagers, but somehow finishing it off with, “Best friends bonding session!”

And Wooyoung is still puzzled about that.

내 앞에서 아닌 척 해도

(Even though in front of me, you pretend you don't)

Well, he grinned when you said it, but for no other reason that wasn’t just you looking so lovable under the moonlight, with your eyes sparkling with glee, and not because he found any sense in, god, whatever it means, “best friends bonding.”

“Bonding”? Sure. Seeing your tits had removed some boundaries— and in retrospect, mentioning that incident again must have been another little tease of yours, but be really honest for a second.

There are just some things “best friends” shouldn’t do.

… Shouldn’t have done, that is.

Bonnie and clyde, bonnie and clyde, one night

The nightly winds were hitting your open arms with you laughing full of life, when Wooyoung finally opened the roof for you. You’d been dying to do it, he had seen it by how you kept leaning outside the open window to feel the speed of the car hit your face, but he didn’t want to not see it. At least he still hates that he doesn’t know the expression you were wearing while you let out the most freeing, revivifying, crystal clear cheer.

He wants to believe that your cheeks were rosy, your eyes shiny, and that your lips were curled up into a smile, as you inhaled again and laughed all by yourself, watching the trees and mountains of the city pass by and draw long, ghostly trails from how fast the vehicle was moving.

It was extremely dangerous, all of it.

Who cares, who cares

The way Wooyoung drove without looking at the speed dial? God, so dangerous, but what’s way more dangerous is the way you became silent, and made him curious, made him believe that there were stars in the sky or something— and he thinks he’s still in the right for thinking that— and made him glance up to you.

Fuck, do you even know how hot you looked when you started to touch yourself down your bust? You probably don’t. You were feeling the textile of the lingerie scratch your fingers, warming your skin under the cold breezes, but when you cupped that perfect tit of yours, you threw your head back and fuck, he thinks if you had seen him you would think he was a pervert, and maybe he fucking is, because Wooyoung was definitely thinking the most perverted things he could do in that moment, all including his mouth, his fingers, his panging cock; Good fucking god, Y/N, you had his mind scorching, it only needed a little more spark and he would have exploded, right here and there.

친구 사이 친구 사이 alright

(Just friends, just friends alright)

So of course he tried to keep it cool as possible. Rested one hand relaxedly on the gear, the other on the steering wheel, and attempted to stare blankly to the front. Wooyoung ignored how you were arching your back to match the flow of how the air brushed against your ribs, tried to ignore how you let your fingertips disappear under the bra, and failed to not think about how delicious your nipple would taste between his lips.

친구 사이 친구 사이 alright

(Just friends, just friends alright)

He couldn’t take it anymore–  not being on you, in you, with you– and that’s why he said something.

“What do you think you’re doing there, bestie?”, Wooyoung remembers jokingly scoffing, driving into the highway so he didn’t have to think about the road too much, to give himself more time to admire the sexy body that you were touching.

“Nuthin~”, you lulled and he realizes now that Wooyoung had forgotten how drunk you’d been. Such a dumbass to think you were doing it all on purpose, isn’t he? You make him so fucking stupid.

“The guy really left you on the hook, huh?”, he spat, fingers gripping the wheel.

“Fuckin’ asshole left me so needy~”, you whined and maybe you tugged your own nipple or something, but he couldn’t have overhead that whiny, melodic moan that left your mouth.

“Yeah?”

“Mmhm~”

Who cares, who cares

What would you have done in his position? 

That’s the thing Wooyoung is most curious about. If it had been him drunk in your cabriolet, feeling down his, whatever, his cock, wouldn’t you have offered a helping hand, too? Because you’re a good friend like that?

He will never know the answer.

도망가 도망가 너와 난

(Escape, escape, you and I)

Wooyoung drove faster to make you come down, he won’t even try to deny that.

With a loud, brutal vroom, he drove the last mile with so many thoughts pinging inside his mind, with you continuing to give yourself goosebumps all over your skin, admiring how the hairs on your body went up over your own touch— knowing that it could be him doing that made Wooyoung grow desperate.

“Why did you stop? Where are we?”, you asked, and Wooyoung remains having no idea. Just somewhere in the middle of the highway, with cicadas chirping and filling out the silence that followed after he turned off the car motor, the roof above you closing down. A few miles away, there would have been a legal parking spot waiting for him, but Wooyoung immediately unbuckled his seatbelt, so it’s safe to say he didn’t give a fuck.

“Still needy, bestie?”

Who cares, who cares

God, you were so needy. It’s like you didn’t wait a second to question him or get any reassurance that this was what had been on his mind, because maybe you had already seen his bulge to know he was needy too, or maybe— and this is what Wooyoung would like to believe— you just wanted him that much.

Fuck, cut him some slack, okay? Wooyoung was just that surprised to find you crawling over to his driver’s seat, planting your ass immediately where he needed it the most. It was fucking magical, the friction of your body grinded over his erection was making him grunt and grope your ass cheeks.

“Aw, are you gonna be my best friend in need, Woo?”, you giggled, getting your hands behind his neck, driving yourself into his hard-on that he didn’t know could get even harder. It extended painfully under his belt, but fortunately, you were too much in heat to let him wait any longer.

Till we die, till we die

“Shut the fuck up and let me fuck you,” Wooyoung cackled, and he still grins recalling how your gasp whirrs in his hazy memories.

It all feels so washed out, your impatient fingers unbuckling his belt, as Wooyoung bent the seat to the back, letting his head fall to his neck, as you got your lips pressed against his– just a lot of movements, a lot of feelings mixing up together, slurred into a motion of two people trying to have a fulfilling night.

Oh 너와 나의 마지막 일지라도

(Oh, even if this means our end)

Was it fulfilling to finally get a taste of your sweet saliva, your honeyed whimpers, when he grabbed you by your tits to prepare for sucking them numb? He doesn’t know it yet, but Wooyoung definitely can’t ignore how hard his cock has become in his boxer shorts to the memory of you looking down at him in awe, caressing his cheek, as he enveloped your perky tit with his mouth, immediately running his tongue over your sensitive nipple.

그럴지라도

(Even if)

The sounds, Y/N, your fucking sounds. Sounds Wooyoung thought he would never hear in his entire life, but definitely wished to hear once at least— and of course he’d be a fool to say he got enough of them, but making you whimper “Woo, fuck, please,” as he got his hand into panties and made you grind on his finger, and then hearing how your cunt squelched when you lowered yourself on it, is enough to make him cum tonight.

His hand is wrapped around his cock, face planted into his pillow so he can somehow simulate how it felt like being suffocated by your tits, Wooyoung recalls how tightly you clenched around his fingers, how wet you were, wet for him, just so fucking needy for your best friend, rutting your hips so his fingertip could graze your sweetest spot over and over again, moaning out “Wooyoung, Wooyoung, Wooyoung,” over and over again.

Would you remember me?

“Y/N,” he growls, and it feels embarrassing to do so, but Wooyoung can’t help himself, he’s becoming delirious because of you, the seam of his shirt becoming absolutely soaked in his mouth, as he bites into it. “God, fuck, Y/N,” he lisps again, thrusting into his hand in the same way he thrusted into you, right after you were trembling around his fingers, whimpering out your first orgasm but not being satiated. 

Nah, nah, I'm just…

“You’re so fucking big,” is what you’d moaned out to boost his ego, but maybe it’s true, because Wooyoung does indeed feel quite big in his grip right now, craving your tight cunt, craving how it clutched around his girth, how hot and wet it felt like, when he fucked your eyes to roll behind your head, your spit glistening on your tongue, as your mouth fell open to never be closed again.

Alright 틀린 선택일지라도

(Alright, even if this is the wrong choice)

“Feels so fucking good, huh? Better than your dumb fucking ex?” 

“Yes, so so much fucking better than his dumb cock, Woo, please don’t stop!”

And maybe that was the moment. The moment his head snapped, when it all fractured, his feelings, his five years of pining, watching you be with some dumb fucking pricks, when he, Wooyoung, your “best friend”, could treat you so much better. 

With your hands taking off his hoodie, as he pistoned his hips into you, your warm sweat dripped onto his torso, and it felt like all the tears he’d shed for you had been worth it.

Alright 결국 후회할지라도

(Alright, even if we regret it after)

It didn’t matter how many tears he’d shed after, because the tears that flowed down your soft cheeks that night, with you weeping “make me cum, Woo, please make me cum so hard,” like he was pulling you by a string to mewl out words for him that still make his cock twitch, were precious droplets of your pleasure. And he’d do anything for it.

“Yeah?”, Wooyoung snickered, breathing into your face with a grin, feeling like he was owning the world by making you dumb on his dick, “You love my fucking cock, Y/N? You love your best friend’s cock?”

“Uh-huh, uh-huh,” you whined out, bouncing desperately over his hips that it was leaving your ass red, “I love your cock, Woo, I love it so, so, so fucking much!”

But somehow, you didn’t love it enough.

Oh baby Oh 널 울린 그 놈에게로 baby

(Oh baby Oh, even if you return to the guy who made you cry)

Wooyoung doesn’t want to think about it and just rut his pelvis into his hand so he can cum and unload in peace, but the thought of you being in his arms again, being used by your stupid fucking ex like a toy probably right fucking now, just makes him more aggressive, greedier, furious.

“Really? You love my cock, Y/N? You really love it?”

“Y-yes, W- Woo,” you moaned out, shakily, when he roughly pushed you over, your back landing on the steering wheel, a loud honk echoing through the empty streets. After Wooyoung’s eyes sunk in an angry, deep-seated red, it confused you, almost sobered you up, but of course you would turn sex-drunk in the matter of seconds, as he began to pound into you as if he was on a mission— a mission to make you remember.

Oh 이미 결과는 내 손을 떠났어 bang bang! (Oh, the result has been out of my hands anyways, bang bang!)

He could never cum like he did that night. It was raw, vulgar, dirty, filthy, absolutely pornographic how Wooyoung drove himself into you, moaning, grunting, breathing into your ear and sucking hickeys into your neck at every inch he got the chance to, so even if you’d wake up with the most hefty blackout, you could see what your best friend made of you in the mirror.

Just marks and signs of his infatuation all over your gorgeous body, and Wooyoung feels his jaw hurt, as he realizes how long he’s been biting down his shirt for imagining your love-bite bedecked breasts— Way too long, Y/N, way too fucking long.

Right now, right now Where you at right now

Five years, no, he counts a total of almost ten years of friendship with a sweet girl who remained fun and cheery, and then meeting her again as a woman who let herself be tossed around by some bastards because you don’t know what you’re worth, at least not worth to him. 

Wooyoung felt rich with you. He felt like he had everything, when you wrapped your arms around him, once he’d unloaded his hot cum inside you with a moan that was lost immediately in the steamy, hot space of his car, and kissed him, kissed Wooyoung on the lips, just because you, well, felt like doing it? Everything.

“I love you, Woo…”

Where am I right now Girl

He’s so pathetic for thinking that you meant it.

I want, want you to know Babe I want you to know

“I love you too, Y/N.”

How much I love you How much I need you

But Wooyoung doesn’t stop. 

I want, want you to know Babe, I want you to know

He doesn’t stop tensing his abdomen to his own touch, he’s given up on thrusting into his hand because it could never, ever feel like you, and Wooyoung spits into his hand again to somehow make him believe he’s being fucked by your wet cunt again.

How much I love you How much I need you

Wooyoung repeats it over and over again in his head, your voice, your words, “I love it,” “I love you, Woo,” and before he can feel his heart drop, his hand accelerates, running and speeding over his shaft and his eyes close down into a tight squeeze, cum spurting out his needy cock.

I want, want you to know Babe, I want you to know

The car still smelled of your sweet sweat, when he drove you to your place, lending you his hoodie because you, silly Y/N, had thrown your shirt out the window– and Wooyoung had sat there for a while, on his seat, staring into the the horn he had you pressed against, had you moaning his name his name against, had you cum, had you love him against.

How much I love you How much I need you

It’s sobering, yeah, that’s the word. 

Wooyoung being the only one to see through your lies the second they leave your mouth, and while he knows that “I love you, Woo” had been the truth, “yeah, it’s better if we forget about it, I guess” was a ruthless fucking lie and he hopes you know that, when Wooyoung presses a bitter like on the beach-selfie you’d posted with him, presenting yourself in that bikini so you could finally catch a certain someone’s attention. “BFF4L” had been the caption. You little jokester. 

Fucking heartbreaker.

I want, want you to know Babe, I want you to know

He doesn’t hate you, no, in fact, he hates that his cock immediately jumps back up once Wooyoung sees that picture again, with both of you smiling and grinning into the camera, holding each other arm in arm like two good friends are supposed to do, he hates that his hands remember how soft, sweaty and hot your skin felt under his touch, and Wooyoung hates himself that he was the one to have spoken out the question of, “we should probably forget yesterday, huh?”

He should have just shut the fuck up and fucked you again all his heart desired instead.

How much I love you

Maybe he’s really that slow, maybe he just didn’t catch how your face dropped a little bit when Wooyoung asked you to let go of the euphoric memories of feeling free, fiery and idolized in his car, return to the draining feeling of needing to be seen by other eyes.

It is a cruel task, but there’s a bond, a bond between you and him. A stupid bond which goes beyond the way you covered up your marks to meet up other men that summer– that stupid fucking bond which makes Wooyoung ready to grab his keys again, any time you call him out because he’s your best friend in need, your ride-or-die.

How much I need you

Wooyoung remembers you, even though he knows he shouldn't.

#jung wooyoung x y/n #jung wooyoung x reader #jung wooyoung smut #jung wooyoung scenarios #jung wooyoung imagines #jung wooyoung x you #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #ateez x reader #ateez smut #chokkiwa #gotahotminute

[oddballwriter]

The Moon Boys as Dads

꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦

Warnings: The moon boys being girl dads and mentions of Jake teaching your kid how to fight a bitch 

Author’s Snip: This would happen eventually. It's been bubbling in my mind since I've started writing for Moon Knight. It's inevitable, everyone in this fandom wants to have their babies.

Notes: I genuinely think that Jake's part is the only one that would be troubling but let's face it. If Jake had a kid, especially a daughter, he's going to teach her how to fight and send the to the ER or to the scale  

I’ll shut up now. Enjoy! And don’t be afraid to request.

꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦

Okay. First thing I need to make straight. I understand that the idea of them having a son is deep. Have it that it heals some of that inner child in Marc and thus the rest of them. And I think that idea is lovely. Honestly can't get enough of it, gets me in the bullseye of my feels

But these men are such girl dads, all three of them

So we're gonna go slightly off of that

Steven Grant

Steven strikes me as the type of guy who just fits into the family man role so well

Absolute proud stay at home dad who has a million photos of all of his kids energy.

Yep, that's right, kids, plural, he wants a bunch of them

He understands and respects if you want just one or two but... like...

He's so good with kids, come on, episode one where he was talking with the little girl??? You can't tell he's not great with kids. He can handle a gaggle of kids if you'd be okay with having a bunch with him.

"One for each of the us" is a joke he'd make

But let's go with the perspective that you have a daughter with him

Already he's just obsessed with her as soon as he gets to hold her

Kids are very chatty, which is great because Steven's chatty and also listens, so if your daughter is talking about her day at school then he listens and nods along.

He'd also do this with her as a baby when all she could do was babble. He'd just listen to it and say "And then what?"

Steven, although he can be quite sassy, is naturally very polite and I'm pretty sure that rubs off on your daughter. He teaches her proper manners like saying "please", "thank you", and "excuse me"

Teaches her about Egyptology because of course he does, you think he's not going to give her those kids books about Egypt? You think the egyptology nerd isn't going to make his kid an egyptology nerd?

If she takes on another interests that's fine too but you think you aren't going to have one more dork in your house?

He praises her all the time for being interested in so many things.

Not to make him sound like one of those dads but he's glad that his kid reads books

Marc Spector

I'll save you what you've heard before. Marc is unsure, Marc is worried that he's gonna fuck up, Gods have mercy on Marc, blah blah blah

And sure I'll go in on it a little bit too

Marc is of course worried about how well he'd do at parenting since he still has some emotional and mental scars that haven't fully been patched up or wounds he's too scared to lick

But hey, he knows what not to do, and that's at least something

He might helicopter parent a little, maybe even a lot, when your daughter is little, especially if she gets her adventurous side early and it's really strong

You and the boys might have to remind him that she's a kid, she's gonna want to navigate and explore what's around her and maybe she'll do something dumb and get hurt a bit

As long as she knows what's dangerous and what's gonna earn her a band-aid

Marc's good when she's a kid but I feel like he just feels more comfortable when she's older, like teenager age

I actually feel like he'd be one of those dads who gets it in his kids head that they can still be a teenager and do teenager things but don't get into any trouble or do something really bad

"Focus on school and stay away from those groups" type of dad that really just means "Don't get Fs in class and don't get arrested."

He's letting her make mistakes and grow from it but he's not gonna baby her either

Marc won't entirely be the "No boys allowed" type of dad either. But if she brings a boy home for any reason, even if the boy's just a classmate that she's doing a project with, then he's telling her that the door stays open till he leaves or they do the project and research in living room or whatever

He's so proud of her too. He makes sure she knows just how loved she is and that he will always be there

Marc actually wants to be the type of parent where whenever his daughter gets in trouble or make a mistake that she thinks "I need to call my dad." instead of "My dad's going to kill me."

Jake Lockley

Jake would have said he wanted a boy but that's a lie he wants a girl first

I can see both Marc and Jake not really being the types to keep their kid in gender roles, neither is Steven if his daughter wants to do things that are considered masculine or boyish then he won't stop her he just sort of defaults to thinking that she'd want to do girly things, but Jake is the type of dad that wouldn't care if he has a daughter he's gonna teach her how to stuff and to take shit from no one

She's going to be a spitfire if Jake's her daddy, that's for sure. A real Buttercup.

She once got in trouble for fighting a boy in her grade because he was making fun of her and he scolded her when you were around but he was secretly so proud

When she's older he teaches her how to fight people and defend herself, I mean he already told her to do that when she was younger but back then it was kick, bite, and scream. When she's a teen it's teaching her how to right and left hook and disorientate

Fuck, she's probably good with a knife too

Jake knows that your daughter can handle herself pretty well but he's still going to be protective over her

If she has a relationship and they put their hands on her that person's just straight up dead

She might know how to aim for the vitals and wash blood off her clothes but she's still his little princess

#moon knight #moonknight #steven grant #marc spector #jake lockley #steven grant x reader #marc spector x reader #jake lockley x reader

[epicbuddieficrecs]

Weekly Recap | November 13th-19th 2023 (Part One)

For the first time ever, I have a podcast and podfic recommendations! 😃 The podcast is Dispatch: a 9-1-1 Podcast @dispatchpodcast and specifically the episode with @mistmarauder that inspired me to try podfics!

Complete

🔥 eddie diaz vs the pta agenda by mmtion/ @mmtions (Season 5, Jealous Eddie | 19K | Mature): Really, Eddie doesn’t care that the PTA aren’t his biggest fan. He knows he misses too many meetings, and it’s not like he’s best friends with any of the other parents. But then Buck picks Christopher up from a class trip and it all goes to hell. Like, of course Buck is everyone’s dream guy. He’s responsible with kids, and kind, and funny and interesting and hot to touch. That’s obvious. But now Eddie’s fighting to keep the PTA moms, teachers, and dads, all off an unsuspecting and tempting Buck. Because Eddie is a good friend. Right?

The 118's Secret Book Club by Asplenium, QuietLittleVoices/ @hawkeyefrommash (Post-Season 5 | 15K | Teen): Eddie dropped the book on the counter. “Taylor Kelly wrote a book. I haven’t started it yet. But I was thinking –” “Book club?” Karen asked. Eddie nodded eagerly. “I know I can’t complain about this to Buck, but –” “Say no more,” Hen said, flipping open the book to the introduction. “We’ll get some copies from the library.”

daylight (i can never look away) by evcndiaz/ @evcndiaz (S4, Quarantine | 3K | Teen): or; a single moment between two almost lovers who don't know where to go next (otherwise known as the buddie quarantine fic nobody asked for)

101 Ways to Say 'What the F#%&' by evcndiaz/ @evcndiaz (Humor | 5K | Teen): The point is, Eddie knows Buck. Or at least he thought he did. Now, Eddie's starting to think the whole relationship has been built on LIES. Because somehow, in some way, it has completely escaped Eddie's vast amounts of knowledge, that Buck is a fucking polyglot.

wait for me to come home by evcndiaz/ @evcndiaz (Season 5, Pining | 3K | Teen): Chris doesn’t take the lego. He keeps staring at Buck with those big, doleful eyes, and says, “Why can’t you be with my dad instead?” His voice is soft and sad, naive and hopeful all at the same time. It’s positively heartbreaking is what it is, especially compounded with the fact that Buck has been asking himself the same question for months now. Buck offers him another smile, softer and tinged with a little of his own sadness, and says, “It’s complicated, buddy.”

spilled milk by evcndiaz/ @evcndiaz (Post-Coma | 4K | Teen): or; In the aftermath of Buck's coma, Eddie can't look at him. (Part 1 of longing tastes like grief and desire)

something familiar by evcndiaz/ @evcndiaz (Post-S6E15 | 1K | Teen): or; Buck and Eddie get burgers after visiting Marie's grave, and Eddie feels too many things. (Part 2 of longing tastes like grief and desire)

standing on the edge (of great) by evcndiaz/ @evcndiaz (Ediie/Ana Break-Up | 5K | Mature): or; eddie says buck's name during sex with ana. it goes about as well as you would expect. and then somehow, it gets a little better

🔥 Love in the Time of TikTok by evcndiaz/ @evcndiaz (Post-S4 | 5K | Teen): It seems kind of dystopian to let millions of people know he’s in love with his best friend before telling said best friend first, doesn’t it? Whatever. Fuck it. It’s not like anyone he knows in real life watches his Tik Toks anyway, so he can be a little freer with the truth even if doesn’t tell his followers everything. He already keeps a tight cinch around his emotions when he’s at work, he can let his guard down a little on here, right?

this life that we've created (or: how silvia rodriguez learned to believe in fairytales again) by evcndiaz/ @evcndiaz (Post-S4E5: Eddie Begins, Outsider POV | 2K | Teen): or; eddie makes buck christopher's legal guardian told from his lawyer's perspective. because why not

hear me now by evcndiaz/ @evcndiaz (Post-S4E5: Eddie Begins | 5K | Teen): or; eddie finds the footage of buck trying to dig to him in Eddie Begins. conversations and feelings ensue

When My Eyes Are Closed (Til Right When They Open) by mintedwitcher (Season 5, Getting Together | 2K | Teen): When Chris has a tantrum, Eddie slips and refers to Buck as Chris's dad. A lot of feelings are revealed and Eddie has a few realisations at his kitchen table. Buck, as always, is right there. 

The First Place I Go (When I'm Trying to Hide) by mintedwitcher (Season 5, Getting Together | 2K | Teen): A companion piece to When My Eyes are Closed, wherein Buck realises he's in love with Eddie because Chris talks with his mouth full.

hungry for your love by evcndiaz/ @evcndiaz (Getting Together | 1,8K | General): prompt: "who’s gonna write a fanfic where chris is not cooperating with buck and eddie accidentally says “listen to your dad”?"

I wanna spend my forever like that by wikiangela/ @wikiangela (Sick Eddie, Getting Together | 8K | General): Eddie catches a cold and stubbornly denies he's sick, while a fondly exasperated Buck is trying to take care of him.

nicknames, supernova similes and the family we make by thewolvesof1998/ @thewolvesof1998 (Established Buddie | <1K | General): Bobby and Athena meet Buck and Eddie's new baby girl.

Nobody Can Do Everything by browney3dgirl6/ @hoodie-buck (Canon Divergence, Teacher Buck | 4K | General): It's parent/teacher night, Eddie having brought Carla along to help him navigate through the vast school. Most of the teachers are unmemorable, save for the pretty English teacher, though she isn't the one that keeps his attention. No, that would be the one with blue eyes, the one his son is always talking about.

if I could see you (once more, to see you) by colonoscopys/ @colonoscopys (Canon Divergent, Coma | 21K | Teen): Or, in the aftermath of a building collapse, Eddie mourns. Buck dreams.

Kiss Me Drunk When You're Sober by giselleslash/ @gigi-gigi (Getting Together | 5K | General): Buck makes a drunken confession and Eddie makes a decision.

Podfics

🔥 [Podfic] Curl Up in My Heart and Let Me Keep You by liketherestofla, MistMarauder / @mistmarauder (Animal Transformation | 1-1.5h | Teen): When an orange tabby cat starts hanging around the Diaz house, Eddie doesn't think anything of it. The little guy's cute and cuddly, and seems to always know when Eddie's having a bad time. Weird how the cat's never around when Buck is, though.

🔥 [Podfic] Love in the Time of TikTok by MistMarauder/ @mistmarauder (Post-S4 | 30-45 min | Teen): It seems kind of dystopian to let millions of people know he’s in love with his best friend before telling said best friend first, doesn’t it? Whatever. Fuck it. It’s not like anyone he knows in real life watches his Tik Toks anyway, so he can be a little freer with the truth even if doesn’t tell his followers everything. He already keeps a tight cinch around his emotions when he’s at work, he can let his guard down a little on here, right?

WIP

🔥 Things We're All Too Young to Know by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Canon, S1 through S6 | 99/? | 261K | Mature): This is a love story. Even if it doesn’t always look like it. Even if it doesn’t always feel like it. A look back on Eddie and Buck's lives up to now, and what led them to each other, interpreted from the current 9-1-1 canon.

🔥 Both Blade and Branch by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Post-S6 | 4/13 | 16K | Mature): The chances of being struck by lightning twice are incredibly minute, but Buck still manages to pull it off. During a double date with Marisol and Natalia, nonetheless. Eddie manages to resuscitate him, but as Buck recovers from yet another trauma, Eddie can’t help but notice there’s something very different about him. He’s not quite sure what version of Buck he got back.

🔥 and here, too, am i by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Future fic, Married Buddie | 3/4 | 31K | Teen): Six months into their marriage, Eddie is still struggling to decide whether or not he wants more kids, when he knows Buck does. The universe may not scream, but it certainly talks.

Innocence died screaming, honey, ask me I should know by JJK/ @trenchcoatsandtimetravel (Demon Buck, Canon Divergent | 7/? | 12K | Teen): Buck is a demon with the power to help with pregnancy, childbirth, and infant health. When the Buckleys make a deal asking for someone to help 'save their baby', Buck leaps at the chance as it will give him what he's always wanted: a life on earth. But demon deals are tricky and neither of them gets quite what they're after. This is Buck's journey as he navigates growing up on earth and remembering how to help those in need.

Fractals from the Lightning Bolt by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels/ @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (One Shots Collection | 38/54 | 73K | Not Rated)

I Haven't Found A Better Title For This Than "Read This In The Six Months Before I Made This Blog And It Somehow Made Its Way To My History Now So I'm Reccing It Post-Facto"

🔥 tomorrow will always and forever now be today (tomorrow is our always and forever) by withmeornotatall (Post-S6, Time Loop | 43K | Mature): eddie gets trapped in a time loop on the day buck marries natalia

#buddie #buddie fic #911 fanfic #911 fanfiction #911 fic #buddie fanfic #buddie fic rec #buddie fanfiction #epic buddie fic rec

[arachnoia]

holy shock ➶ . ˚ ༉‧₊˚ˑ༄ؘ | miguel o’hara

miguel o’hara x fem! reader (nsfw!)

a/n: literally I love you guys smmmm! i’m so glad you guys loved ‘gone’ 🥹 here’s pt 2!

again im trying new things bc im not rlly a smut writer but if y’all want smut, im down to write it! it’s j not my strong suit and y’all can prob tell.

ILL SHUT UP! ENJOY!

warnings- this has a lil nsfw, p in v, lil bit of angst, untranslated spanish, second part to gone

pt1- ‘gone’ pt3- ‘finally’

───⋆⋅☆⋅⋆───

“HE TOLD YOU HE DIDN’T YOU IN HIS LIFE? WHAT?” Peter looked at you wide-eyed and Mayday raised her eyebrows even though she has no idea what was going on. But her dad sounding shocked was enough to get a surprised reaction from her.

“Sort of…” you whispered. You kept looking at the sun’s glare, as if it had the solution to your crumbling “love life”.

“What do you think we were, Peter? What is your perspective? Why was Miguel your first thought?” You remarked. You felt your voice slightly crack from your questions thrown at Peter.

You also felt a little irrational.

You were angry too.

Not at Peter of course, but of how pathetic you think you look right now.

A slew of emotions piled onto you suddenly, all negative.

“Y/n…Aren’t you guys best friends?” His answer shocked you when it shouldn’t.

If you said yes, you wouldn’t be lying because that’s how your relationship looked like. But it’s not how it felt. It felt like something more.

“You could say that,” You said, glancing at the hyper cars from below.

───⋆⋅☆⋅⋆───

“Thank you…”

Miguel looked startled as he turned in your direction below. “For what?”

“Saving me. My thigh feels better and thank you for uh, saving me,” You yelled, smiling awkwardly. Hopefully he couldn’t tell how nervous you were from up there.

Miguel leaned his head to behind you, “What do you have there ?”

“Oh, fuck right! Uh, these are for you,” You swung up and held out a plastic white bag, plastered with “THANK YOU”s and “GRACIAS”s.

You felt so stupid.

You sounded so stupid.

He probably thought you were stupid too.

“I- uh…got you some empanadas. I know you like them from Doña Rosa’s restaurant, so…here.” Miguel’s eyebrows were raised and he chuckled. “You didn’t have to, Y/l/n.”

Stuttering? Really?

You blushed and felt nervous. He’s your best friend?? Why are you feeling this way??

You retracted your arm with the bag before Miguel grabbed your arm and sucked his teeth. “I didn’t say I wouldn’t take them now, Y/n.”

Your face felt like it was on fucking FIRE.

“Gracias hermosa,” He said smiling and snatching the bag quickly.

He said it in a teasing way, which lead you even more confused as to what the hell it meant translated.

You tilted your head in confusion, “What does that mean?”

What if he said he didn’t like them?

WHAT IF HE THOUGHT YOU SOUNDED LIKE AN IDIOT?!

He turned around and shrugged. “Means ‘thanks bud’. So thanks, bud.”

His nonchalant tone made you bite the inside of your cheek as you frowned at him, who was already opening up the bag of empanadas and munching on a fig one.

“Yeah, you’re welcome, bud.”

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“I just need time to breathe and take a minute, Peter. It’s not every day one of your best friends just tells you ‘Oh! You’re dead to me, you bastard, I hate you, I want you gone from my life!’ That just doesn’t happen,” you said, feeling an immense wave of sorrow hitting you, replacing the anger that was just there.

Peter, in his 38 years of living never ever thought he would be in this situation; giving relationship advice to his 27-year-old colleague.

“Have you tried talking to him about it?” That was the first thing to mind. As you can tell, he isn’t really good at this.

“Well yeah-“

“How did it go?”

You glared are him and your tone turned sarcastic, “How does it look like it went?”

The sky’s sunset looked beautiful. It had an array of warm and gorgeous reds, pinks, oranges, and yellows, with a hint of violet.

“Well, he blocked my number! He unfollowed me on his super duper secret Instagram-”

“Wait what? Miguel has Instagram? He’s such a…”

You laughed a bit, “…Deadkill? Why? Is it because he has the humor of an 80-year-old man? He’s not that boring, Peter. He has social media.”

“Y/n. The man says ‘Oh shock!’ Like man, just say oh shi-” Peter stopped and looked at Mayday, who was already looking up at him and was smiling cutely.

“I mean ‘oh shiitake mushrooms’…”

You rolled your eyes and laughed, “Well he cut off all communication from me! The bastard even blocked me on SPOTIFY. He deleted our shared playlist-”

“Woah. WOAH! Shared playlist? Me n MJ do that!” he gushed.

You nodded, “And he was the one who added the majority of the songs. Pinche puto.”

“Yeah, yeah. Um Y/n, hey I don’t know. Talk to him?” He said, giving you a sassy tone with his hands on his hips. ”Peter, you’re setting me up for failure…”

“It would be, you know, more real if you just talked it over. I’m not sure about the whole picture as to what happened between you two but Miguel has always been so…depressing and you really did brighten up his life to some extent.”

“Right-”

“Hey, before you start being all mopey, just talk it out. I know Miguel just wouldn’t be irrational because he’s just a very level-minded person.”

If only he was…

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“You didn’t want to laugh. But the more he dramatically moved his hips, the less control you had until you busted out cackling.

You caught him dancing to Bachata while he was washing dishes in his apartment.

Why were you in his apartment? You came unannounced to hang out, thinking he wouldn’t really care, until you walked into him dancing to his bachata playlist.

“You should definitely teach me. I see you listening to this all the time,” you said, giggling.

He jumped and turned around, giving you a scowl. “Ay dios, what are you doing here?”

You walked infront of him and put your finger against his lips, “Shh. You should definitely teach me how to dance this.”

He stopped and gazed at you for a few seconds before he went over which led you to twirling around and him having his hands resting at your hips as he helped you sway them.

You were going to probably scream into your pillow once you got home and cry since you’ve been going at this for 30 minutes.

You felt kind of bad feeling that way about your best friend, but holy-

The current song stopped and you felt his breath against your ear as he whispered, “I can hear your heart beating fast. Are you alright?”

HOLY SHOCK?

“I-“

Before you said anything, he interrupted you just studying your facial features. He studied your lips, nose, beauty marks. The silence was then caught off by him kissing you.

You felt your heart stop for a second before you returned the kiss.

He pulled away and smiled, “I see that you didn’t try to stop me, hermosa.”

HOLYSHOCKHOLYSHOCKHOLYSHOCKHOLYSHOCK

“I don’t think I should stop you,” you whispered, getting a low chuckle from him before he carried you bridal style towards his sleeping quarters and laid you on his bed. He barely came back from a mission and was still in his suit while you were in your regular clothing.

“I see, you like calling me ‘hermosa’? What does that mean?”

He smirked at you and pointed at you, “It means beautiful, just like you.”

You got up a bit from your laid position and kissed him even harder, pulling his weight on top of you as you both were drowning in each other.

“Oh fuckkk…” He groaned, squeezing your ass before he started attacking your neck, leaving you with red and purple love bites. He reached for your collarbone and stopped.

“W-Why’d you stop,” you whined. You didn’t know what to feel at this point. Here you were, with your best friend who you had a crush on, making out in his bed. Did he feel the same way? You had to pinch yourself before you could decide it was an illusion.

It wasn’t.

“I need permission. Can you-“

Before he responded, you took off your shirt and slid down your pants, leaving you in your panties and bra. “Continue.”

He smiled and started to play with your clit and kissed you at the same time, as you moaned in the kiss.

“F-Fuck, O’Hara-“ you moaned

It’s safe to say that you still couldn’t believe what happened next when he asked for permission again.

He pushed a button from his watch, placing it on his nightstand to reveal his almost godly sculpted body…and his very, very long member.

Your eyes couldn’t help but widen, which he noticed and chucked.

“Do you think you take it?“

“I don��t know, but I can try,” you muttered. You didn’t know what just happened with your newly found confidence but you were rolling with it.

He ripped your panties off and put a condom on. He then, aligned his erected member to your vagina and went in.

“It hurts-“ you whined before he kissed you.

“Just take it, you’re doing good right now, cariño.” He said as he moaned a bit, enjoying how tight you feel around him.

‘Cariño’…that was new.

That’s what Doña Rosa called her husband whenever he came at random times in her restaurant when the two of you were ordering empanadas.

That’s what lovers call each other, right?

It didn’t take long for you to almost pass out from his girth entering in and out, giving you a wave of euphoria and a bit of pain.

Your mind was rushing at different places, all while hearing his little grunts and moans.

You were probably going to be sore tomorrow but it’s fine.

“I’m- I’m about to-“

“Yeah, me too,” he said before you both finished, feeling him fill you up.

“Shhh, sleep. You need rest now,” he said as he kissed your forehead and your eyes fluttered. He wrapped his sheets on you and patted your head. You softly smiled. It smelled like him and it smelled so good.

You recall him putting on some clothes and leaving, but thought he would come back.

You realized he didn’t when you woke up.

The only thing he left was a note on the other side of the bed you laid on, telling you that he felt every emotion opposite for love towards you. He wanted you to be gone from his life.

All you could do was just stare at a wall and cry.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“Peter…are you sure that talking to him in person would help? I’m just-“

“Nervous? Yeah I get it. When me and MJ had our troubles, it’s always best to talk it out. Look at me now!”

“Peter, I’m looking at you and all I see is a middle-aged man in a superhero costume with a pink bathrobe, raccoon eyes, and a baby.”

Peter glared at you and rolled his eyes, “Wow I’m offended-“

You put up your arms, “Hey I’m sorry but that’s what I saw!”

“Mhm? Well, just talk to him. If he told you that in person-“

“He didn’t…”

Peter fumed, “Stop interrupting meeeee! Alright. That makes more sense then, honestly.”

You raised your eyebrow, “What do you mean by that?”

"What exactly did he do?"

You stared at him blankly, "He wrote a note.”

Peter scoffed and smiled cockily, “Miguel isn’t the type to do that stuff in writing!”

You cocked your head towards Peter, “And? What are you trying to say?”

Peter chuckled, “He didn’t mean it! That’s what it meant!”

You felt like your brain cells might have died from the statement Peter made.

What the fuck?

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

yeah idk what I just wrote either.

tags ❤️‍🔥 (some don’t work and i’m so sorry 😭)

—— @catr4dora @leftcupcakedefendor @ushygushybaby @viriexo

#miguel o'hara #spiderman #across the spiderverse #into the spider verse #miguel ohara x reader #atsv fic #fanfic #fanfiction #marvel #spiderman 2099 #astv miguel #miguel spider-man #miguel spiderverse #spiderverse #astv x reader #astv #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara x you #miguel ohara x you #miguel o’hara smut #miguel ohara x y/n

[setsugekka]

『atarashī 』 ; 06

❝ fixation ❞ | mlist  ｡

student!hongjoong x fem!reader, husband!yeosang x fem!reader — drama, dark romance, mystery, heavy sexual content [4,7k wc] ch cws: smut, bad decisions (as usual), a whole lot of lying and pretending and wishful thinking.

The elevator in your building is broken, because of course it would be at a time like this.

After a night like this one.

Late at night or early in the morning—it depends on who you ask, and from whose perspective—you trudge up the stairs with burning muscles and wobbly legs that are barely capable of handling the weight of your body atop them. Your back is sore, head pounding and all of it only slightly quelled by the hot shower you took before making your exit.

No soap used, on account of not wanting to smell of it.

It feels like an endless path you're forced to take. Up, up, up towards whatever it is that awaits you inside. Your mind swims with the thoughts of everything that has transpired in such a short amount of time; the culmination of so many things, all twisted and fucked up in their own, particular ways. You think of Yeosang, wonder how he's spent his night.

Think of Hongjoong, the way the feeling of his touch still lingers on your skin all over. Attentive and wanting and nearly obsessive in yearning to feel your body under his.

You can't ever see him again.

A situation that will have to be dealt with tomorrow morning. For now, this particular situation at hand. You slide your key into the lock, twist it open and slowly step inside. Kick your shoes off, look down at the destruction of your tights and try not to think about the painted nails that ravaged them to that point. You drop your bag by the door, not bothering to even dig your phone out.

Your husband is found lying curled up on the couch with his phone just beside his head. No doubt wracked with guilt, tiredness, and worry in trying to contact you. The sight of it only makes you feel that much worse.

It awakens him though, your entry. Slowly coming back into consciousness with messy, black hair tossed about his head and face as he slowly sits back up and looks over towards you. Once his eyes meet yours and he becomes awake enough to put the pieces of your return together, he springs to his feet and hurries towards you with arms out. Curls them around you in a tight embrace. You've never seen him like this, so distraught. 

"My God, I was terrified something happened to you." It did. "I kept calling and calling and I couldn't get a hold of you." I was busy, in bed with another man. Someone who wants me unabashedly for the simplicities I have to offer him. "When Seonghwa finally contacted me and told me you were safe...I wish you had just told me you were with him, I would have left you alone."

Eyes shutting tightly, you meet Yeosang's embrace with just as much longing, nestling your face into his shoulder and staring out into the emptiness ahead of you—mind elsewhere. Mind still partially with someone different.

With hands placed atop your shoulders, Yeosang pulls you back and away from him; looks you over as if studying you in such a peculiar way. It drives up the worry in your stomach, the concern of being found out. That somehow he will know, smell the remnants of another man on your skin, in your hair. Know where it is that you've been and what you've been doing while he's been here all night, worried sick about your well-being instead.

Part of you—the nasty, vindictive side that hates everything that your husband has put you through lately and over the years—thinks him deserving of it, in some ways.

Yeosang's hands come up then to cradle your face. Suppose whatever it is that he had been looking for not being found, if evidence of unfaithfulness was on the agenda, because he looks at you with the utmost softness. Kisses you lightly on the lips, tells you that he loves you. All things that you know and have heard before. Until...

"I'm sorry," he whispers against your mouth, eyes closed and shuddering with the trickling of remaining terror of potentially losing you. "I'm sorry about everything, about pushing you so hard about having a baby, about not fucking considering how it was making you feel seriously. I wasn't taking it seriously, I wasn't taking you seriously."

At the tail end of the words, you hear his voice tremble. A sob that threatens to erupt from his chest—you can't remember a time where you have ever seen your husband cry. Not before now. He fights it back, eyes opening to look deeply into your own and you can see the evident sorrow so embedded in every fiber of his being now.

He means it. He means every word of it. Only it's too late, and what you've done can't be undone with the same sort of apologia. 

You feel numb, probably a combination of everything. Yeosang kisses you again and you meet him with matched earnest, because you do still love him, and you do accept his apology. You know that he doesn't act maliciously, and purposefully in ways that will hurt you. He's selfish and entitled and in many ways a little bit privileged—something that's hard to break the habit of, feeling entitled to every desire that one may come into.

"If you don't want to start a family, then neither do I," he says, a pained whisper, but you believe him fully. "If it comes down to the choice; having a baby or having you, then I'd choose you hundreds of times, for the rest of my life and again in others."

Would you still feel that way if you knew. 

You kiss your husband again, deep and loving and fully realized in how his arms wrap around your body, hold you close, fill you with all of the adoration and acceptance that made you fall for him all of those years ago.

You wonder if the roles were reversed and Yeosang slept with someone else in a moment of weakness, of heartbreak, and devastation—felt so horribly about it and yet still filled with so much love for you—would you want to know?

No, you don't think that you would.

Sleep doesn't find you particularly well the night before work, though you suppose you have no one to blame for that but yourself. 

Mind wracked with guilt still, this is just something that you're going to have to live with. You made your bed, and now you have to find a way to make peace with yourself and lie in it. Maybe go to confessional despite not being particularly religious of a woman, therapy likely couldn't hurt, either.

Regardless, it makes for the Monday morning and work day ahead tiring before you ever even get started on the tasks at hand. Slumping into the office chair in front of your desk—papers and folders piled just where you had left them from before—you glance over it all and then allow your head to fall back against the cushion. Eyes closed. Just a couple of moments more before you have to get it all started, you beg.

Your thoughts drift off as you sit there—to Yeosang, cooking dinner together last night, his smile, his love for you. Cuddling up on the couch under a shared blanket to watch a movie that you've both already seen before, and then heading off to bed early with both parties needing to catch up on sleep after the events of the weekend.

Head lolling off to the side just a bit, there's a remaining pain that sits just near the shoulder. A reminder of other goings on from the weekend; face pushed down into the mattress, discomfort in craning your neck while your hips remain pulled up and pointed, drilled into quickly and repeatedly from behind—

Two knocks onto the wooden doorframe and you're just about jumping out of your skin as you're forced back to reality. 

Shoulder leaned casually into it, Hongjoong stands in the doorway just across the room. Your eyes pull away from his immediately, though you find that he has no such qualms about keeping his glued to you.

There's a quake to your hand as you reach up to your desk, grab a pen and a file and only glance at him long enough to acknowledge that he's there at all before addressing him.

"Yes?" you say, weak. Pathetic. You make an attempt to steady your voice before trying again. "What can I do for you?"

Hongjoong smirks, doesn't reply immediately but steps inside of your office further and drags himself towards the side of your desk. Closer to you. Much more so than you'd like him to be, all things considered. The door is still wide open, though it's quite a bit early and a good amount of time before the trickling of students will start to line the halls.

You look up at him again, eyes still gazing down at you in your seated position from where he stands. Wholly unbothered by the circumstances at play, though it makes perfect sense as to why that is. What does he have to lose? Who has he betrayed in doing this? The scales are uneven at best.

"The contacts," he says simply, like it's the most obvious thing in the world. It takes you a second to even remember what it is that he's referring to. So much has happened since then. "We talked about it Friday night, among other things."

Among other things, like the fact that he jerks off to the thought of you. Now you wonder if he'll carry on more or less with the knowledge he has acquired since then.

But most importantly is the fact that you have rescinded the offer, though unbeknownst to him. It's not that he is undeserving of them, work and talent not up to par—and in fact, he probably would get far with an extra leg up—but at this point in time the engagements between the two of you have gone much too far, and cannot be saved in any friendly or professional way. You cannot, in good conscious, grant him any professional contacts that you have acquired and especially by somewhat personal means. It's too dangerous—for you, for your marriage, for Yeosang.

Giving your much too young, Akademiya student lover all of the perks of sleeping with the older woman who probably has too much along those lines to offer him. Grotesquely cliché, and you shudder at the thought.

And more than any of that, what he knows even less, is your intention to bring this to the admin board of the Akademiya the moment that he leaves your office and goes to carry on with the rest of his day. Nothing good can come from the two of you remaining in each other’s presence, and while you would like to think yourself a strong enough woman of moral character to say no a second time, should you have been asked only weeks ago and about a first time, you'd think yourself having been much the same.

The best way to not engage in nefarious activities, in many cases, is to remove the option for nefarious activities entirely, and that is precisely what you intend on doing. 

It's an unfortunate outcome for Hongjoong, being expelled from the Akademiya on account of your own ethical failing, but suppose there's a snide part of you that thinks him plenty old and mature enough to have weighed the potential risks before engaging with the married owner of Aurelia too.

There's the blood of moral shortcoming on both of your hands. Now, you have to tell him as much.

Inhaling sharply, you pull your attention away from him entirely, pulling open a folder and sifting through the paperwork therein. "I've given it some thought and I'm not sure I'm comfortable with giving out that information after all. I apologize for leading you to believe as much, and I take full responsibility in doing so. We can revisit the topic at the end of the semester and discuss the possibility of it more then."

The words sound strong in conviction. You're proud of that. 

Hongjoong doesn't respond, at least not verbally. A bizarre silence finds you instead, causes you to glance up at him and find the amused half-grin that awaits you on his face. That curl of his lips that you know so well. So much of him that you know so well now. You swallow down the lump in your throat, manifested by the on-going fight of pushing back the memories of time shared together with him standing so close to you now.

Something so enticing about him, nearly addicting the way he was able to make you feel that night.

"Is that so?"

You don't reply, watching Hongjoong's hand as he reaches forward towards your own with pen dangling between shaky fingers. Internally, you're begging him not to touch you. Please don't, I don't think my resolve can handle it. I crave you still, even now, after everything. 

A lazy press onto the end of the pen that knocks it out of your hand—such a thoughtless gesture.

"Oops."

Hongjoong sinks to his knees.

Barely given any time, any chance to protest before your chair is twisted to the side to face him; hands slipping up under the sides of your skirt and curling at the elastic of your undergarments, pulling them down your legs and then sliding soft palms up the inside of your thighs to pull them apart and make space for him between. Hongjoong's hands curl over and around to the outside of your skirt and settle around your hips, yanking you forward and more towards the edge of the chair—his tongue finds your pussy immediately thereafter.

You melt into the touch all over again. Want to say no, stop, don't do this, but only because you know it's what you should be saying. Your body, the truth of it is that you want him perhaps even more now than the first time, and with the way his fingers curl and fuck into you, it's hard to think anything different for him.

Legs shaking around his head, you pull your bottom lip between your teeth and gnaw tightly on it to fight back the sounds that Hongjoong threatens to pull from you. The office door is still wide open, and while no one would be able to see him where he sits knelt below, the debauched twist of your features is likely telling enough.

One hand slides down, cards through his hair as he sucks and tongues at your clit—fingers digging against your walls with just the right repetition—just like when he fucked you. As if he had taken notes of exactly what it was that had you falling apart by his touch.

Hongjoong tugs his mouth away just for a second, the loss leaving you whining in a way that obviously amuses him. Hand never relenting in pumping you full of him in the meantime. "Did you think of me while apart?" He follows the question by a long, firm lick into your pussy, eyes that never for a second fall away from your own. "Did you miss it? Miss the way I touch you? Want more of it?"

"Yes," you whisper, not even giving yourself a chance to reconsider the fact. A single word so destroyed with desperation and desire, slurred at the end as your eyes screw shut and his lips find your wetness all over again.

Only a second or so more, Hongjoong pulls away from you completely; grabs you by the arm and bends you over your desk with the palms of his hands smoothing over your ass from behind. Skirt bunching at the top, exposing you for him as he makes fast work of the front of his jeans.

Hongjoong glides one hand over your ass again, up the small of your back and then settling at the back of your neck. He holds you there firmly, teasing the blunt tip of himself at the entrance of you that's so wet you may as well be begging for him now.

He sinks in, quicker this time than the others. Your body accustomed to him, cunt perfectly shaped around his cock now with how many times you've taken it.

You both moan in tandem, Hongjoong snaps his hips forward a few experimental times to get a feel for the position and whether or not it'll work for him, but in the meantime, your hands come up and around to grasp at the sides of your desk for stability, his name dropping airy and beaten from your lips like it already has so many times before.

"You're perfect," Hongjoong says, teeth gritted through the fervor in how he fucks you. "I can't get enough of you, want your body, want to feel you, it's all I think about—"

The words have an unfathomable effect on your arousal, walls bearing down on him as he buries himself inside of your body repeatedly—hard, pointed thrusts that have you nearly crying out for him if not for the effort you're making to not do that. Hongjoong fucks you like he wants to hear it, wants everyone to hear you. Maybe he does.

"Hard—harder, please, Hongjoong—"

"It's all you think about too, I guess."

He gives you precisely what you ask for, but not before the hand at your neck slips around to your mouth—two fingers shoved inside in an effort to keep you quiet as if it's to make any difference over the sound of his hips harshly meeting the flesh of your behind over and over again. 

But the truth is that you've lost the ability to make a rational decision when it comes to him, and the evidence of such lies currently on display across the crumpled paperwork beneath your torso on the desk.

Leaning over your back, Hongjoong cranes his head down closer to your face as you desperately suck and lick at his fingers—imagining it to be his cock, awaiting for the day in which it finally is.

"Gonna let me come inside you again?"

The tone comes off chiding, almost condescending, as if he knows the answer before ever even asking it. A man with you wrapped around his finger—your body is his for the taking—a kind of visceral disgust that lies just beneath your skin at the willingness you have to be his in such a way.

You nod.

"Is that what you want?"

You nod again, faster, more wildly as your own orgasm creeps up on your body. Hongjoong's drives into you become fuller in the final few—pulling nearly all the way from you before sinking completely back inside in a way that makes you feel impossibly stretched open and filled. It only takes a few more before your release rips through your body and subsequently tears his from his own body as well—pushing far and deep with fingers gripped tightly into the skin of your waist as he empties inside of you all over again.

Disappearing from your body, Hongjoong pulls away from you entirely and you expect him to disappear out of your office and down the halls—pretending none of this has happened at all, and perhaps for the best. You turn yourself over and sit yourself up at the edge of the desk and instead are met with the man in question once more as he motions for you to step into your underwear, pulls them up the length of your legs and situates them back in place for you so that he may come up and meet your dry, bitten lips with a taste of his own.

Even still, Hongjoong kisses you like you're the only woman on earth. The only person he has ever wanted, ever needed, like he can never get enough of you. Everything to him, is you. 

"I want to see you later," he whispers into your open mouth, fingers dipping into the wet, soiled sides of your panties to toy with the mess that he's left there for the day. "I can't stay away from you. Let me see you later."

Intoxicating. Utterly and unquantifiably intoxicating.

Your hips grind down against his hand, as if you have no control of the fact, the way your body craves him just as much as his seemingly does yours. Hongjoong's fingers once again dig into your cunt—wet and stretched open by his cock just moments before, still fucking you with them as if unable to ever stop.

"Can't," you rattle, barely. Desperately, quickly dissolving all over again into his handling of you. "Need to be home."

"I have to see you again soon," Hongjoong admits, sounding so needy for you in doing so. Still touching, still digging against your walls at just the perfect pace, lips trailing down along the column of your neck as he begs. "I need you. I'm obsessed with you."

"Fuck." You can't manage much more than that, finally giving in to the way he's still touching you, relentless in his desire. 

When he finally decides it's enough and pulls his cum-soaked fingers from between your legs, Hongjoong fits them between your lips—slowly pushing them in and out of your mouth and watching the way your mouth and tongue works them as if they were his cock. 

"I want to feel every inch of your body, want to have every inch of your body," Hongjoong whispers then as he watches you. The very front door of the theater hall then booms open, alerting the both of you that the beginning entry of student has started, though too wrapped up in your task to even be bothered to avert your attention from him. "I want to make you come over, and over, and over again until you're begging me to stop. It's the only thing I ever want to hear."

When the knock at the door frame of your office comes through this time, you glance up from your chair—situated perfectly, none bothered by the intrusion—Hongjoong standing idly with arms crossed over his chest just at the side of your desk.

"So, like I said, it's something we'll have to revisit closer to the end of the semester," you say calmly, normally. As if nothing has taken place here and between the two of you at all. "Sorry that I can't do more for you."

Hongjoong sighs, and you're impressed by how willing he is to be a good actor about the whole thing. Rolls his eyes, shrugs, and begins to take his leave. "Oh well, it was worth a shot. Appreciate you seeing me about it this morning though, thanks for your time."

"Of course." You glance over at the other student then. "What can I do for you this morning?"

As the student airs his grievances, at the forefront of your mind and disabling your ability to truly be in the moment; the memory of Hongjoong's hands on your body, the warm, hard drag of him inside of you, and the pooling of cum that leaks from between your legs as you sit and revisit the thought.

As the lunch hour rolls around, you're only expected just a little bit down the way.

A small cafe frequented by people from the Akademiya and surrounding business-goers just looking for a quick bite to eat, you're not looking for much more than that either. In fact, your reasoning for escaping the halls of the theater are with something very specific on the agenda, and although you have taken the time to order a warm sandwich and a drink to accompany it, there's something else that awaits you at a table in the corner—someone else—and a conversation that you're none looking forward to as well.

You sit down, small plate and drink atop the polished wood of the table that stands between the two of you. Eyes averted mostly; in shame, in reluctance. Unwilling to take the first step in acknowledging the elephant in the room.

Seonghwa sits at the other side with arms crossed over his chest, only a drink in front of him though it's mostly untouched. A light ring at one edge of it, maybe a sip or two taken. His glare towards you is narrow, not judging exactly, but none pleased with the goings on that he has been involved with, that much is for certain.

You know the man well enough to know that he doesn't wish to be involved in your marital issues more than he already must be on account of being your best friend, but asking him to lie for you? A new low.

"So?" he says first, questioning. He doesn't need to add detail to it, both of you know that. He does so anyway. "Want to tell me why I got a message from you in the odd hours of the night telling me I need to lie to your husband about your whereabouts for the evening?"

No, I don't. "I just needed some time away from him, away from everything that was going on. I didn't want him trying to come find me."

"And where were you, exactly?"

You force a beat of silence, opting out of racing to grant him a response. Anxiety rushes through your veins, manifests as a tremble in your hands as you bring your drink up to your lips. You hope that he doesn't notice it. A tell. A showing of your dishonesty if he knows what to look for.

"Does it matter?"

Seonghwa rolls his eyes at that, exhales heavy like he's already heard enough even though he very much so hasn't. 

"Yeah, it might matter." He leans forward, voice dropping to something more quiet. "What happened?"

You're thankful that he appears willing enough to drop the subject of where it was that you spent that evening, though the topic of your husband isn't one that you're any more excited to visit as of now either. Only hours it has been since the last time another man had you for his own.

It's not a topic you have room to forgo though, and you understand this well enough. Unwillingness to divulge any information to your friend most definitely ringing alarm bells in his mind should you insist on doing so.

"He brought it up again, he just couldn't let it go. I flipped out, I just had to get out of there and get some time away from him."

"And how are things now?"

Too good for what I'm doing to him. "Better. Good. We talked when I got home in the morning, he apologized, said he would drop it. He said he would rather be with me than have a baby if that's the choice that it came down to."

A single eyebrow perks up on Seonghwa's face, intrigued by the outcome. 

"So that's it? Problem solved?" He pauses, takes a sip from his drink to give him more time to mull it all over. "What do you think? Do you think he means it?"

Problem not solved, things are so much worse than you could ever possibly know. You shrug. "Yeah, I do. He looked wrecked when I got back in the morning, like it all finally came crashing down. Like he finally got it."

Across the table, Seonghwa hums. Leans back into his seat as if relenting to the topic finally. Accepting that it's over and dealt with.

"Are you guys going to be alright then?"

Worry is laden in Seonghwa's tone when he asks, and while this particular aspect of the situation that has manifested so much contempt in your marriage has been laid to rest, now so much more has reared its ugly head and forced its way into the very fiber of your existence. A kind of itch beneath the skin that can never truly be scratched, a dull hunger that can never actually become sated. 

An addiction to something new, an addiction to another.

"Yeah, we're going to be fine," you answer back, a practiced calm in your voice that sounds so impressively well-delivered, it scares even you. How quickly we may fall. "I love him. We love each other."

"And when he has to leave again?"

You almost relish the day.

The phone sitting in your bag vibrates then. A part of you wants for nothing more than it to be Yeosang. The better part of you knows that it is not.

"One day at a time," you say, curious tingle of what awaits you trickling across your skin. "We'll just have to take it all one day at a time."

a/n: BIG LOLE. the tragedy of carnally wanting a man who also carnally wants you? how complicated things become and how far we fall when hubby apologizes and then we still wind up banging the other guy...i'm sure that's going to turn out just fine 🤨🤣

#hongjoong smut #hongjoong x y/n #hongjoong x you #hongjoong x reader #hongjoong imagines #hongjoong scenarios #yeosang smut #yeosang x reader #yeosang x y/n #yeosang x you #yeosang imagines #yeosang scenarios #ateez smut #ateez x you #ateez x reader #ateez x y/n #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines

[illdowhatiwantthanks]

Aces

Amelia Shepherd x ace!fem!reader Warnings: mostly fluffy but definitely some mentions/discussions of sex, ace representation wooooooo, some explicit language Word Count: 1.1k Summary: You come out as asexual on a date with Amelia, and you're worried about how she'll react. But it turns out that maybe honesty really is the best policy–for both of you.

*Reader & Asexuality. Asexuality is a spectrum! No one person's ace identity is the same as someone else's. If you're ace and don't see yourself represented in the reader's perspective here, just know that your identity is still so valid! It's just impossible to encompass the beautifully wide range of what it means to be ace in one story or one perspective.

"Oh my god," Amelia said, eyes wide. "I'm so sorry."

"No, no, no!" you reassured her, touching Amelia's arm lightly to keep her from pulling away. "I like kissing you. I like you. I think I would probably like more, but... I just– I don't know. I wanted to be up front."

Amelia looked skeptical, no longer the suave, sure woman she'd been moments before.

You tried not to sound desperate. "It doesn't have to mean no sex, I don't think. For me, it just means that I'm mostly, generally uninterested. But not necessarily? God," you cursed. "I feel like I'm fucking this up."

You looked at the ground, trying not to feel panicked. You could count on one hand the number of people you'd been really, truly attracted to in your life. Amelia was one of them. You felt Amelia's hand slip into yours and looked up, equal parts hopeful and afraid.

"I've, uh, never been with someone who's asexual," Amelia said, clearly trying to put both of you at ease.

You returned to your walk on the waterfront, dusk closing in around the two of you.

"I like you, too," Amelia continued nervously. "I mean, I really like you. But I'm very much a sexual person, and I don't want–for either of us–for this to get too far and..."

"Yeah," you replied. "Me too."

"So," Amelia said, smiling and trying to lighten the mood. "You're ace! Tell me about it!"

"Well," you started, thoughts jumbling around in your head. "I like women. Romantically anyway. Sometimes sexually, I guess? I don't really know. I've never..." You paused and blushed. "I've never actually had sex." You shook your head and let out a shaky breath. "Shit, you didn't need to know that. Sorry."

Amelia squeezed your hand. "Don't be sorry."

"Anyway," you continued, scared that if you stopped you wouldn't start again. "I masturbate sometimes so, like, I know I at least enjoy the sensation, but... real life always felt unnecessary, like it was overcomplicating things. There just aren't many people I look at and think, Yeah, I could see myself having sex with them. But I don't know for sure because I've never done it, and I don't want to lead anyone on. And I'm scared because the only other person I've felt that about, well, we were both super religious and it wasn't safe to be out so we weren't out. To anyone or even to ourselves, really. And I always let her take the lead in how far we went because I was so scared that she'd misinterpret anything I did and think I was gay. Of course, I was, but I didn't know that at the time..."

You stopped and looked out across the darkening bay. "I'm sorry," you said, rubbing your forehead. "I'm rambling now. This is probably too much. I'm a lot."

"I'm a lot, too," Amelia commented, playfully jostling your shoulder. "I'm just not as brave and up front about it as you."

You avoided eye contact, sure that if you met Amelia's eyes you'd see what you were dreading: that Amelia was no longer interested, was just a nice person, continuing the date and the conversation out of kindness.

"Hey." Amelia interrupted your thoughts, tapping your hand. "You said the only other person you've thought about sex with."

You stayed quiet.

"Does that mean you've thought about with me?"

You flushed a deep red and stared at the ground. Amelia smirked, finding your embarrassment adorable.

"Hey, there," she said, smiling, bending down in front of your bent head to meet your eyes. Amelia put her hands on either side of your head, pushing your hair behind your ears and lifting your chin.

"Hey," Amelia continued, grinning fully now. "I am one of the two people in the world that Y/N finds attractive. I mean, talk about knowing how to make a girl feel pretty."

You smiled quickly, taking Amelia's hand as you continued your walk.

"And I've thought about it, too," Amelia added. "Just so you know. A lot."

You flushed again and chanced a glance at Amelia who, if anything, seemed more excited and into you than before. You couldn't believe it.

Stopping you with a hand on your wrist, Amelia leaned down and kissed you, running her thumb back and forth along your cheek. When she pulled away, you were dumbstruck.

Amelia searched your eyes, as if she were trying to decipher a foreign language.

"Do you like that?" she asked.

You nodded a little too enthusiastically. "So much, yes."

"So I have a proposition," Amelia said, turning around and wrapping her arm through yours as you turned back.

"Okay," you prompted, savoring the feeling of Amelia so close to you.

"I say we try. I think we should try having sex. Only if you're up for it, of course. And all along the way, you can decide what you like and what you don't. And we can stop at any time. I promise I won't be upset. That way we'll know."

You stumbled through your words. "I'm not... experienced, so–"

Amelia turned to you and raised her eyebrows. "Y/N. Not to toot my own horn or anything, but I know what I'm doing. And if you don't enjoy yourself, you can be sure that you would not enjoy having sex with anyone. Because I'm really good."

You ran a hand through your hair, your face reddening, and a smile creeping across your face.

"I'm kind of excited actually."

Amelia jumped and shrieked. "I know, right!? I've never been someone's first! God, I can't wait to blow your fucking mind!" She pulled herself back down to earth and cleared her throat. "Unless you don't want to or you don't like it, which is totally fine. But I really hope you do because you are so hot." She said this last part more to herself than to you.

You smiled at Amelia's happy little dance. You were really, truly excited. Nervous, too. But excited. Riding high on the moment, you put one hand on the side of Amelia's face and wrapped the other arm around the small of her back.

And you kissed her. You kissed her. Your stomach did somersaults as you felt Amelia's hands on your waist, felt Amelia's mouth deepening the kiss. You kept going, surprised at how good Amelia's tongue felt in your mouth, how good it felt to hold the back of her head in your hands.

There was no one around in the dim early night, just you and the wind and the water. Amelia pressed her body into yours, and you could feel the buckle of Amelia's belt pressing into you. Your body took you off guard as you whined into Amelia's mouth, a noise that had never come out of you before. Amelia pulled away, running a hand over her lips and looking smug.

"You like that?" Amelia asked, already knowing the answer. You nodded, panting like a dog. You had never felt like this before. Almost hungry. It scared you a little.

"You want more?"

You surprised yourself by nodding even more vigorously.

"Yeah," you said, breathlessly. "I think I do."

Amelia grinned and bit her lip, taking your hand and leading you away.

"Where are you taking me?" you laughed, face flushed, electricity running between Amelia's hand and yours.

"Bed," Amelia replied, nearly dragging you as she sped to the car.

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