#i might spend all my money on books but i do not care | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bitchimasnake-sss · 11 months

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"my girlfriend's a nerd" ft. the monster trio!

self explanatory self-indulgent drabbles to soothe my book!loving ass

ft. luffy, zoro and sanji x fem! reader set-up: you like books, he likes you that's it warnings: none lmao this is very sfw. one might call it wholesome even. m.list

luffy:

thats my baby ^^

— im not even sure if this mf can read 😭😭

— honestly 9/10 chance he can't but when has that ever stopped him from being our most supportive himbo king

— go king give us everything!!

— he doesn't get why you read books when instead you can be like sleeping or eating or looking at the sea but well, he doesn't question it

— he just thinks it's a weird hobby you have (i don't think he's aware of how freakishly illiterate he is)

— but just cause he thinks it's weird that doesn't mean he wouldn't hug you half-asleep when he hears you sobbing into the dead of the night or he wouldn't listen with keen interest when you explain the plot of your favourite book as he wraps his arms around you and hums into your hair

— will 100% offer to fight the author/ tear up the book everytime he sees you having a breakdown over a particular scene/character

"who should I kill?!" the deadpan seriousness in his voice is what terrifies you

"nobody! I'm okay–"

— after you explain to him that hurting somebody is not necessary and you're fine, he will try to coddle you with extended hugs and food (lots and lots and lots of food).

"yn you should eat something! should I get you something to eat??" you can hear the panic in this poor boys voice 😭😭

"no luffy, its okay. im fine!" you say through sniffs and snorts, eyes bloodshot from crying over ink on paper

"brb" and he gets you dinner enough for 5 people because that's how he knows to comfort you (willingly took sanjis kicks and namis punches to accomplish this mission)

— since he's a clingy little child, he will hold onto you some way or the other when you're reading

— you're reading in your room while he's fast asleep? his arm is draped across your waist lazily. you're on the other side of the deck, sunbathing and reading? his hand is stretched out from where he's sitting and on your thigh (ussop tripped thrice over his hand, rip god ussop 🙏) . you're reading during breakfast cause the book just got so good? his toe is rubbing your calf up and down periodically (he won't stop no matter how many weird looks you give him)

— conclusion: he doesn't at all get it what it is, but if it makes you happy he will spend all the berries in the world to buy you those books (plz know if you actually ask him to jokingly off an author for killing your favourite character, he will do it. please don't ask him that.)

— he's just so supportive and nice 😭😭

"my girlfriends a nerd, I love her" (ussop explained to him what a nerd was and now he's introducing you like this to everybody)

zoro:

the shades tho 😎

— I'm convinced this mf can't read either

— even he can there's like literally no evidence to prove it and the entire crew has come to the conclusion that he gets lost even with clear directions because he just can't read please 😌👌

— at the start, he actually thinks it's dead stupid to invest so much time reading books when you can do other stuff like getting stronger, sleeping, literally doing anything else (luffy backs up his opinion with full enthusiasm)

— i mean like he's seen you sob at 7 in the morning over breakfast cause your fav character died and now he's confused as to why are you spending money and buying books if they make you cry so hard (he doesn't understand the concept of angst im afraid)

— but over time he just accepts it as something you enjoy and well, if it makes you happy then who is he to question it?

— acts like he doesn't care/isn't listening when you're rambling about the plot and how thE MAIN CHARACTER IS IN LOVE WITH HIS ENEMY AND VICE VERSA SKEJFHSJKSN but is actually fully listening

— he's actually invested at one point

"but they are enemies? why does he wanna be with him?"

"you don't get it! thats the appeal!!"

"the appeal is forcing a knife on somebody's throat?" he's laughing, "as if you'd enjoy it if i threatened you with my swords"

"... i would actually enjoy that"

he is now asking nami for loan to send you to a therapist (nami has seen you nosebleed over fictional characters and is considering giving money away to zoro for free. you really do need help.)

— as I said, he's invested now (although he does question your taste every now and then) but he'd force you to either summarize the plot to him as he trains or read out loud so he can hear the story as it goes.

— so naturally you're now sitting on his back, reading out loud as he does push-ups

— this beloved himbo has now formed strong opinions about characters and will battle you with headcanons because "there's no fucking way the hero would ever go back to the villain after that! that's ridiculous! if he does I'll sell my swords off."

— will remember the stuff you told him, no matter how trivial, so if you get off an island and he spots a keychain from your fav book series he's spending whatever money he has left to buy you it

"oh excellent choice! who are you buying it for?" the shopkeeper lady questions aloud

"oh, my girlfriend." he's smiling, "my girlfriends a nerd."

— actually looks forward to you telling him all the plot details and jokes at this point (one might call him a part of the fandom now)

— when you're a crying, sobbing mess because a character died, he's genuinely comforting you (no matter how bad he is at it)

"yn it's okay, you want some sake?" he is hugging you, patting your head like you're a child

"no 😭😭" you sob harder into his chest

"well... that's the best i can offer"

he tried. it's not his fault you don't wanna drink your feelings away.

— conclusion: he started off thinking its stupid and now he's an honorary nerd. would never admit it though. stubborn asshole.

sanji:

he's actually so pretty tho ^^

— he actually liked reading books before you even joined the crew although his tbr consists of cookbooks and auto-biographies about the people he has some interest in

— he started reading so that he could impress zeff with his knowledge on cooking and other miscellaneous stuff (imagine kid!sanji reading a book till late night under a lamp cause he wants to impress his old man that's so cute 😭😭)

— respects your hobbies when he finds out you like reading

— and then he sees your book collection. whY ARE THERE LIKE 5000 BOOKS HERE?! NOW HES SCARED FOR YOUR SANITY CAUSE GIRL WTF

— he hears you recommend a book to robin/nami once and now he's running to the nearest bookstore on the next island you guys land on to buy it

— he obviously did it to impress you and win you over but goddamn that book was actually pretty nice. so, the next time he asks you for recommendations he's actually a bit sincere

— now you're both in a book club of your own (which makes luffy mad cause why are you leaving him out of conversations :/)

— like zoro, he often asks for updates on the book you're currently reading while he cooks everyone food. he loves hearing you talk about the things you like.

— when he sees you crying over books, he is making you sweet stuff to soothe you, holding you and rubbing your back supportingly, peppering kisses to make you feel better

— he's so fine 😫😫

— anyways, also def the kind of person to ask you to roleplay things in real life

"yn-saaaan" his voice is bubbly, "can i ask you something?"

"mhm?"

"the last book you read–" his face is going a little bit red, "you think we can maybe... do that irl?"

now it's your turn to go red

— but no fr, he's so so supportive of your little hobby like yes baby! read those books and have fun imagining people in your head

— 100% matches your vibe when you crush on fictional characters cause "you're right. he is actually very attractive" (a bi king we love)

— once zoro made fun of you for reading and this was his response: "you can't even read, mosshead. the next time you speak shit I'll kick your ass."

"who said I CANT READ? AND AS IF ILL LET YOU KICK MY ASS!"

"I TOTALLY WILL KICK YOUR ASS"

now they are fighting while ussop, luffy and chopper laugh in the background

— but yes he loves staying up late, reading with you before you both cuddle and fall asleep

— you once read about a specific sort of dish in a book and mentioned that it sounds delicious so now obviously he has to go make that dish. it doesn't matter if it's 1 am at night.

— when nami asks him what he's cooking, he just smiles and shrugs, "i dunno either, im just trying to make yn happy. she's such a nerd"

— conclusion: an enabler, an enthusiast. this man is ready to buy you books and then read them if it makes you happy. only the finest for his favourite lady <3

a/n: enjoy my wayward thoughts about these fine men! m.list

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another-lost-mc · 1 year

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a/n: this is for a friend that celebrated a birthday this week. I hope it was a good one! 🎉

when it's mc's birthday | the demon brothers

2.6k words | nsfw | gn!reader | fluff and non-explicit smut

cw: my fav bias is showing again. mostly soft!demons. car sex; levi's tail gets its own warning; bathing together and bath tub sex; dream magic and implied dream sex.

Lucifer plans your birthday with the utmost care. He booked a reservation at your favourite restaurant so that he can treat you to an intimate dinner. He remembered the various items you've pointed out to him in the past while browsing through the Devildom's shopping district. He went back and bought every single one of them, and they're already wrapped and tucked away in the back of his closet for later.

After he walks you home from the restaurant, there's a bottle of Demonus on ice waiting in his room. You share a toast while he watches you open your gifts. You kiss his cheek, eyes shimmery and warm with so much affection, and he can't resist the urge to kiss you properly. A soft, booze-sweetened kiss leads to another kiss, and another, and another after that. He strips your clothes off slowly, like he's unwrapping a gift of his own. He memorizes the sight of your body stretched languidly against his dark sheets. He almost feels selfish for a moment because he wants you so desperately, but the lust simmering in your gaze makes his heart race. He knows how much you want him too, and he's powerless to deny you.

The first time he makes love to you, it's heat and frenzied passion, the build-up of coy anticipation that finally boiled over. He reaches for you throughout the night between quiet conversation and short naps. Each time he pulls your body close to his again, his lips whisper tender confessions against the delicate shell of your ear while he worships your body with his over and over again.

Mammon isn't very subtle. In the days leading up to your birthday, he asks random questions about things you might like or activities you're interested in. He wants to get a head start and beat his brothers to the punch. His fake nonchalance isn't convincing, but it's still endearing how much he truly cares. Who else should celebrate your birthday if not him? He's your first, and he's not going to let anyone else spoil you more than he does.

He tries to budget his money and curb his spending so he can afford whatever it is you ask for. If that fails, he takes on some less-than-prestigious part-time gigs for extra cash. You could ask him for the world and he'd find a way to scrimp and save and scavenge and steal if he has to so he can give you whatever you want. He doesn’t realize (or doesn't believe) that his company is what makes your birthday really special.

He dresses up nice and polishes his car to a high-shine to match your own stunning smile and natural radiance. It doesn’t matter what you wear because when he tells you how gorgeous you are, he’s so sincere. You outshine all the riches and jewels he used to dream about—now he dreams of you instead.

He takes you on a date that's sweet and light-hearted. He holds your hand and stares at you across the table with a dopey grin on his face when he thinks you're not looking. Once you're alone in his car, that boyish giddiness fades into something greedy and confident. You meet him halfway when he leans over to give you a kiss. When kissing isn't enough for either of you, you push the seat back so he can climb over and settle between your legs. He takes you apart in the cramped front seat of his car until your voice is hoarse and you push him away from sensitivity. The car smells musky with sweat and cum and he doesn't care that you made a bit of a mess on the seat. He palms himself on the drive home, and by the time you get to his room, he's eager to do it all over again in the comfort of his bed.

Levi isn't sure what to do for your birthday, but you offer to plan a little outing for the two of you. All he has to do is keep you company, right? He braces himself with a mantra he repeats over and over in his head: do it for them, do it for them, do it and LIKE IT because you love them. It ends up being a lot more fun than he expects: a lunch date at one of the cafes you both like followed by a movie you’ve been excited to see. You don’t make fun of his sweaty palm when you hold hands in line to buy movie tickets and overpriced snacks at the concession bar. There's a cute plushie on display where they sell collectible merch. He buys that for you too and shoves it into your arms before you can protest.

He relaxes when you take your seats and the theatre lighting dims as the movie starts. You lean against his shoulder and he's glad you can't see how pink his cheeks are. Partway through the film, he decides he likes the movie, but not as much as he enjoys your warm fingers laced with his.

He jolts suddenly when you pull your hand away and slide your fingers onto his denim-clad thigh instead. Your fingers squeeze with the tiniest bit of pressure and he nearly gasps at the unexpected wave of lust that washes over him. He glances at you in confusion—you're still focused on the screen, but he can see the little smile curling the edge of your mouth. He squirms a little and pretends not to notice your fingers drawing lazy circle-eights across his jeans, inching higher up his leg when he doesn’t stop you. And you're right, he's not going to stop you. You run a fingertip over the growing bulge hardening against the zipper of his jeans, just as you feel his tail slide onto your lap and tease the sensitive skin between your legs.

Satan decides to take a different approach when he sees how overwhelmed you are by his brothers' plans for your birthday. Sometimes simple is best and what could be more relaxing or romantic than your favourite home-cooked meal? He fusses in the kitchen until everything is cooked exactly to your liking, and the dish he serves you looks as good as it smells. His room is tidied enough so that a small table fits—he doesn’t want the others bothering you if he serves you in the dining room. There are dozens of candles that cast you both in an ethereal glow while you eat together. His room might not offer the rich ambience of Ristorante Six or the electric atmosphere of The Fall, but nothing outshines the romance he creates here, just for you.

Once dinner is finished and he tidies up the mess, he pulls you to your feet and wraps his arms around you in a slow dance. It's more like swaying back and forth together as a classical record plays quietly in the background. Candlelight flickers playfully along the walls of his room, and your face is painted by a mirage of shadow and flame. He eagerly traces those shapes on your skin with his tongue after he lays you on his bed, and by the time you're shaking and falling apart in his arms, you'll know how much he loves you.

Your birthday is another chance for Asmo to spoil you. Throughout the afternoon, he leads you to each of his favourite boutiques in the Devildom's shopping district. He holds up dozens of clothes against your body and admires how the colours bring out your eyes or compliment your complexion or how luxurious the fabrics are. He pretends that he didn't pick all these out to show you (and buy them for you) in advance.

When he finally takes you to Majolish, his greatest gift is revealing that he personally designed this outfit specially for you. It fits flawlessly and even you think you look amazing. It’s obvious that he poured his love and passion into creating this for you when no one else ever has before. It’s almost overwhelming, the way his smile radiates warmth when he looks at you. His eyes burn with all the ravenous love he feels for you. He loses control of himself and kisses you, pressing you against the changing room wall and sliding his thigh between yours. He doesn't want to stop, but he doesn’t have the time or space to touch you properly here. When he pulls his leg out from between yours, he misses the searing heat of your body against his. Perhaps it’s for the best that he take you home first—he would hate to get stains on your new outfit so soon.

(He originally planned on taking you to The Fall but he changed his mind. He’s not in the mood to share you with anyone else tonight.)

When he takes you home, he leads you straight to his private bathroom and urges you to get undressed while he gets everything ready. He draws a warm bath and the steamy air clings to you both like a second skin. You feel self-conscious about being naked even though he stands before you, waist-deep in the bathwater and just as naked as you are. He takes your hand and pulls you gently into the water with him. He supports your weight when you lean against his chest and his hands start to wander over your body. His fingers leave a soapy trail up and down your spine. He cradles your neck and leans forward, capturing your lips in another kiss because he can't possibly wait anymore.

The kiss reignites both your desperate desires to touch and be touched. He walks you back towards the edge of the tub. When your back touches the cool marble stone, he reaches behind your thighs and lifts you onto the edge; he swallows your half-hearted protest with his lips moving greedily against yours. His mouth moves away from yours, ghosting along the curve of your jaw and down your neck while his fingers gently pry your legs apart. He bends his head low once you’re spread open for him, hot and trembling and all his. His eyes glow bright when you tangle your fingers in his hair, and it’s the last thing you see before he dips his head between your legs.

It's not surprising that Beel plans to take you out for dinner on your birthday. It's a tricky proposition because it's easy for him to lose control of his hunger when he goes out to eat. He doesn't want his sin to ruin your birthday dinner, so he eats a meal's worth of food beforehand. Having a partially-full stomach means he's not going to be completely distracted by hunger—he wants to focus on you.

He likes taking you to nice restaurants and your birthday is no exception. You put on a new outfit he’s never seen you wear before, but it looks so good on you that he's drooling from the corner of his mouth before you even leave the house. The restaurant is cozy and everything on the menu sounds delicious. Your nose bunches up adorably when you can't decide what to order, and Beel suggests ordering one of everything. He laughs deep in his belly when you glance at him skeptically over the brim of your menu. His eyes are bright with mischief even though you know he's dead-serious. He simply grins at you from across the table and reminds you that he won't let the food wouldn’t go to waste.

It doesn't take long for your food to arrive. Beel enjoys watching you eat while you make little sounds of contentment between bites. He offers you food from his own plate to try. When your plate is empty, he worries you might still be hungry; he's only satisfied when you promise that you're close to bursting and completely full. He leads you out of the restaurant by the hand, and his other hand carries a bag full of leftovers to share with you tomorrow.

When he walks you home, he doesn't want to seem needy or presumptuous even though he's reluctant to end the night so soon. He pauses outside your door and kisses you softly, whispering happy birthday against your lips that still taste sweet from your dessert earlier. He can’t resist swiping his tongue across the seam of your mouth for one more taste, and the kiss deepens when you part your lips for him. You only break the kiss just long enough to open your door and pull him inside your room before slamming the door shut again. Your hands tug impatiently at his waist, and he shivers at the metallic clink of his belt buckle coming undone. He can sense hunger rising inside you again, and when he pushes you gently onto the mattress and covers your body with his own, he realizes your appetite is as insatiable as his own.

Belphie doesn't mind if the others want to take the initiative and plan your birthday party. He prefers it that way, actually. When his brothers ask for his input, he recommends something casual at the house, nothing too fancy. He wants you to be happy and relaxed and spoiled where you can be comfortable.

He sneaks into town to buy you a gift before the party, of course—something you mentioned to him in passing once that was too expensive for you to justify buying at the time. He and Beel wrap the presents they bought you in their room. Belphie's present looks insignificant compared to the large pile of gifts stacked near your birthday cake. He's not worried, especially when your eyes light up when you open it. You're just as appreciative of his small gift as you are of the others you receive. He knows you so well.

(You keep the contents of his card to yourself: a reminder that he has something special to give you later.)

Sometimes when he takes you to the attic for bed, he falls back against the mattress and waits impatiently for you to crawl on top of him. There's no hint of his lazy smugness tonight though. His hands are gentle but efficient when he strips your clothes away first before taking off his own. He follows you down onto the bed and smothers your body with his. The soft mattress cushions you when he grinds against you, and it squeaks from the force of his thrusts when he rocks inside you too. Your skin is littered with the little marks he sucks and nibbles into your skin. He cleans you with a warm, damp cloth after because your thighs and belly are covered in a sticky mess of you and him. He takes care of you with so much tenderness. You’re already snoring lightly by the time he's finished, and he cuddles against you with a yawn.

Shortly after you fall asleep, you dream of him. It’s a shared illusion between you conjured with the sleepy brand of magic he commands. You writhe against him in your sleep as the embers of lust continue to burn deep inside you. When the dream ends, you both wake up and instinctively reach for each other as the remnants of the dream fades away. He kisses you breathless despite your stale morning breath. You whimper against his mouth and he rolls over until you're underneath him again. After indulging in a night of dreamy, lustful sins, you're both still desperately eager for more.

read more: obey me masterlist

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beomiracles · 19 days

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hi not too sure if u write hybrid so feel free to ignore this if u don’t! but could i request taking care of whiny and desperate cat hybrid taehyun during his heat?

⌞ 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐃 ⌝

DREAM RECALL “I am”, he admits, his voice low and shaky as he inhales against your skin. His almost entirely blacked-out eyes meet yours and in a split second his pupils narrowed down into their usual sharp vertical slits. You gulp, gripping the sheets either side of you as your lips part in bewilderment. His tongue darts out to drag across the bottom row of canines, his attention remaining solely on you as he says; “I need you.”

wc. 3.2k

pairings cat!hybrid taehyun x fem!reader warnings well um, unprotected sex + creampie, heavy breeding kink, heat-cycles?, marking, brief kissing, vaginal fingering, taehyun wears a collar, switch!taehyun, whiny/desperate taehyun, mentions of ownership.. lmk if I missed something (most definitely did)

#serene adds ✎.. eek this is my very first hybrid fic, apologies of it's ass. hmm might've gotten slightly carried away but I'd say he's pretty desperate n whiny still :3 it might be a little rushed at the end but.. let's rock with it

@thetxtdevil the way I promised to do this over a week (two weeks?) ago. oopsies.

this is not proofread, I gotta get up early tomorrow so we have no time for such trivial matters as proofreading.

With a deflated sigh, you heave the last step of the staircase leading to your small apartment. Throwing a glance toward the heavy bags clutched in your hands, your wallet painfully empty after today’s purchases. — If this doesn’t win him over…

When your colleagues had described their experience of owning a doberman hybrid, your heart practically melted. Soobin was both kind and handsome, politely thanking you for the meal you’d cooked for him as he offered to help with the dishes. And he was social too, providing you with the companionship you so lacked in your life. In all, Soobin was perfect and suddenly your colleagues' promising words all made sense. — So naturally, you thought that acquiring one of your own wouldn’t be much different.

Wrong.

Since the day he’d first stepped foot inside your home, Taehyun had been nothing but a nuisance, and that was putting it lightly. From tearing your couch cushions apart to leaving heaps of dirty plates in the sink as he struts back to his room, the door slamming shut behind him. Not to mention how near heartless and cold he was. Refusing to even coexist in the same room as you apart from when absolutely necessary.

But you had tried your hardest to prepare yourself, taking measure of every need he might have. From allergies to sleeping and eating habits, scents he might like or dislike, you’d even stocked up on both movies and books for him to indulge in, none of which he ever did for the record. — In all, you had done everything you could to accommodate your new housemate, and how were you repaid? With nothing but the short glare of his sharp feline eyes as Taehyun’s lips curled into a small scowl.

At your wits end, you resorted to buying him gifts, spending the little money left from your monthly salary as you brought home new clothes, expensive jewelry, more books and even a brand new phone. — But Taehyun didn’t even raise a brow in the direction of your offerings, and now they all lay discarded in a corner of his room. The heavy ipad in your hands was your last piece of hope, and with a small sigh, you turned the key in the lock, pushing the door to your flat open.

It’s quiet, eerily so, which isn’t unusual and so you venture forward. Not bothering to announce your arrival back home, because you never got a response back. Instead you head for your room, planning on spending a few more minutes by yourself before attempting what you thought to be your last shot at winning the sour cat over.

It is therefore with much surprise that you halt in the middle of the hallway, eyes landing on the door leading to your bedroom, ajar. That in itself wasn’t too alarming, you would ever so often forget to close it, and you weren’t exactly worried about Taehyun sneaking inside, for he seemed to have no interest in doing so… Except today he did.

Rocking back and forth on your heels, you listen to the soft pants carrying out into the air with a confused frown. What on earth was he up to? With a hand on the wood, you push the door open as your lips part, “Taehyun what are..”

The words get stuck in your throat, suddenly feeling thick and constricted as your gaze trains on the sight of the feline before you. You think he might’ve seen your room once, the day you brought him home and gave a half-assed tour, in which he’d paid your personal space very little mind. — But right now, he was everywhere, the mess he’d left in his wake evident as you eye the open drawers, your clothes scattered across the floor and your desk practically turned upside down.

A strangled noise coming from the bed averts your attention in its direction. Taehyun is drenched in a sheen layer of sweat, making one of the very few sweaters he’d obliged to wear, cling to his toned chest. His dark hair falls in front of his flushed face and your jaw might as well dislocate as you behold the leather collar you’d bought for him, which he had bluntly refused to even acknowledge, wrapped around his neck.

Clutched tightly between his fingers is a familiar piece of garment, and as you squint you recognize it as one of your sleep-shirts. Confused, you watch as he brings the fabric to his nose, fervently inhaling your scent with a small groan as his hips twitch. — “Taehyun..?” You speak up, feebly trying to make your presence known. And you do.

You think he might crack a bone with the speed he snaps his head your way. His eyes seize on you, narrowing at the sight of your figure by the doorframe, and for a moment, you think, almost hope, that he will revert back to his usual self, giving a small grunt as he slips back into his own room. — But he doesn’t, if anything he becomes worse as he tears the shirt in his hands, the cotton ripping under his fingers and you wince at the loss of one of your favorite pieces.

“Come here”, he practically snarls and you respond by dumbfoundedly blinking back at him, turning your head to see if there was possibly anyone else he might be addressing. With the small roll of his eyes, Taehyun lets out huff as he beckons you over. — “Are you sick?” You hesitantly wonder as you carefully creep forward, baffled by his sudden initiating behavior. The hybrid merely gives a twitch of his jaw as his gaze narrows down on you.

As soon as you’re within arms reach you feel the steel-like grip of his hand around yours as he yanks you onto your bed. The sudden force takes you by surprise and you let out a startled yelp as you go crashing against the cushion. Within milliseconds does he have you caged against the mattress, knees sinking in place either side of your hips as his arms close you in. “Taehyun what-” But the question is swallowed by the raspy whine coming from his throat as his eyes hurriedly search yours.

It’s when your gazes meet that you finally notice his pupils, blown wide to the point where they might as well swallow his entire iris, completely lacking their usual vertical slits. Frantically you scavenge your mind for answers as you note his near panting frame, from the flushness of his face and neck, to the copious amount of sweat pooling on his forehead. You’d read about this…somewhere…But your mind remains blank as you squirm beneath him.

This couldn’t possibly be the same hybrid you’d brought home a few weeks prior, the one who did his utterly best to avoid you, who scrunched his nose in disgust whenever he caught a whiff of your scent. — This wasn’t the Taehyun you knew, and the uncertainty of your current situation terrified you. “I think you’re unwell..” You try and coax him off of you, but it was useless as Taehyun pressed himself near impossibly close, nose nudging the juncture of your neck.

“I am”, he admits, his voice low and shaky as he inhales against your skin. His almost entirely blacked-out eyes meet yours and in a split second his pupils narrowed down into their usual sharp vertical slits. You gulp, gripping the sheets either side of you as your lips part in bewilderment. His tongue darts out to drag across the bottom row of canines, his attention remaining solely on you as he says; “I need you.”

Needs…you? You? Had he not had you locked beneath his large frame and on your bed, panting like he’d ran a mile, his statement would’ve been a laughing matter. But there was nothing humorous about the way his expression practically ate you whole as his eyes roamed your mundanely dressed body; from the plain leggings you wore to the far too big t-shirt draped over your chest.

“You’re sick, Taehyun. We need to-” — “No.” He cuts you off, it’s abrupt and he suddenly sounds stern as he shakes his head. “I know what I need”, he murmurs as he dives for your neck once more, hot tongue darting out to drag across your exposed skin. — With a small shriek your hands fly to his shoulders as you attempt to push him off. But the feline merely groans against you, hips grinding into your own and when the prominent bulge, straining in his sweats, reaches your thigh, you freeze.

Suddenly, it was as if a lightbulb had been turned on within you and your eyes widened in horror as you realized what was going on. His heat, of course. How careless of you, you should’ve gotten him suppressants, asked him about it in advance. This was all your fault and now…now he was.. — “No!” You exclaim, trashing against him as you try to separate the two of you, earning a displeased whine from the hybrid.

As a last resort, your fingers clasp around the leather on his neck as you give it a harsh tug. The action sends a shiver through him as Taehyun moans into your neck, though finally tearing himself from you, if only a mere two inches. — “This isn’t..” You begin, biting the inside of your cheek as you release your grip on the collar, “I mean this…This isn’t how it was supposed to go!”

The crease of his forehead as Taehyun frowns is prominent and he sends a warm puff of air your way as he exhales. Blinking rapidly, you try to come up with a solution for the situation at hand, eyes darting across the room. “There’s a procedure for this and I’m sure it’s written somewhere I just-”

Oh!

Sharp teeth scraping against your shoulder jolts you from whatever meek thought process you had managed to accumulate. The feline scoffs against you, one of his hands traveling up your loose shirt, causing goosebumps to ripples across your stomach as he groans; “You and your fucking books.” All too familiar with your frantic researching habits, always feeling the need to learn as much as possible, just in case.

Your face is contorted into a mixture of surprise and pleasure as Taehyun refocuses his attention to your clothed cunt, moving intently as he emits soft moans and whines. “B-But this isn’t how it’s supposed to- H-ah.. to be..” — Not paying your meek protests much mind, your hybrid continues to litter you in reddish marks, undoubtedly ones that would blossom into something far darker when given the time.

“Been waiting for you to come home for so long”, he sighs as his lips travel up your neck, finally reaching your jaw as he plants soft kisses and licks to the skin there. — “Don’t want to wait any longer”, he whines, hips jerking forward and you gasp, “need you now.”

He wasn’t thinking straight because of his heat, that had to be it, because in no universe would your Taehyun be acting like this on a normal Thursday afternoon. With that in mind, you try to be a bit more understanding before speaking again. — “I-I’m sorry, I would’ve been home earlier if… If I knew”, you murmur, tentatively reaching your hands up to rest on his shoulders.

The small action seemed to spur him on even further as he immediately went to tug your leggings down. Alarmed, you seal your legs shut but his desperate fingers are already hooked around the fabric as he pulls it down. — “Taehyun, wait! Isn’t this..Isn’t this all a little too fast?” You shriek, feeling hesitant as his hand wedges itself between your thighs, dangerously close to your already damp panties.

Subtly shaking his head, the feline bites his bottom lip as he lets his gaze drop to your spread legs, kept apart by him as you squirm. “Smell so good”, he squeaks, nostrils flaring as he inhales, eyes fluttering at the overwhelming sensation. — You bite back a small whimper when he ventures beneath the sticky fabric covering you, fingers immediately swiping across your clit before circling your hole.

You tried your best not to think about the fact that this was your hybrid, your cat hybrid, the one who seemed to loathe you like you were the deadliest curse to walk the earth. — “S-Soft”, he breathes, almost drawing blood with the way his sharp teeth sank into his lip. It was impossible not to flush at the subtle praise, and you were unable to hide the wanton moan slipping past your guards as he curled a finger inside of you.

Taehyun’s arm was near trembling as he watched his fingers disappear in your slick and pretty cunt, his jaw slacked as he inhaled your prominent arousal. Your nails dig into his biceps, he felt scorching hot to the touch and you wondered just how long he’d been in here, on your bed, doing god knows what. The thought in itself made you dizzy as you clung into him.

He looks conflicted as he licks his lips, torn between tasting you and needing to be inside of you. In the end he shoves his soiled fingers in his mouth, a high pitched moan ripping from deep within his throat as he lets his eyes roll back. “More, more, more”, he drawls, hands feverishly tugging at his sweats as he pries them down.

Given a small moment to catch your breath, the reality of your situation sets in and as his hard cock springs free, slapping uncomfortably against his shirt-covered stomach, your heart drops. Were you really about to do this right now? — Your gaze gets stuck on the obscene amount of precum that leaked from his flushed tip, sliding down the large veins and you swallow.

He was still your hybrid…and you were still technically his owner…was this really right? — “Fuck, you’re so pretty”, he whines, a large hand fisting himself as he watches your fluttering cunt. Whatever doubt and guilt that lingered in your mind simmered once you felt him align himself, the head of his cock sliding between your folds before nudging your swollen clit and you cry out.

Suddenly, your eyes meet once more, but this time there’s a quiet question lingering within his. “Please”, he pleads and it catches you off guard, “please, please, wan’ breed you please.” The bluntness of his request makes your jaw drop, but you couldn’t deny the way it made you clench as your hips raise in an attempt to seek him. Timidly, you nod and as if a switch had been flipped within him does Taehyun ease himself inside with one deliberate thrust.

The stretch of his thick cock makes you wail as your nails scrape across his arms. And despite his soft pleas, the hybrid gives you little time to adjust before relentlessly rutting himself against you, blabbering nonsense into your ear as he does. — Part of you doesn’t register half the things he’s saying, and you’re pretty certain he isn’t either as his lips chase yours.

He kisses you hungirly, sloppily but with desire; like he’d been longing to do so all his life, like this kiss was the air he breathed. In a way, the kiss made you feel empowered and within seconds you found your hands by the hem of his shirt, tugging it over his head as you do. — It was no secret that the cat hybrid was fit, because when he wasn’t avoiding you, he would spend his time working out, whether that was in his room or the living room. The equipment you’d gifted him were the only ones of your presents that he’d actually used.

Shamelessly, you let your fingers trail his stomach, the outline of taut muscles, flexing beneath the pads of your fingers as he thrust forward. His pace was jagged, uncalculated and desperate, like that of an overly horny teenage boy who had little clue of what he was doing. — Yet he managed to make you feel absolutely insane. You didn’t know if it was because of the near burning stretch of his cock or his teeth dragging across your sensitive neck.

Your eyes glue to the leather around his neck, the collar making a small jiggling sound with each move of his and you find yourself completely entranced. It might be why your hand moves on its own, reaching up and clasping around the collar lightly. Taehyun emits a strangled moan as his hips jerks forward uncontrollably. “Hmnpf, more” He gasps and it takes you aback as your gaze flits between his pleading and flushed face to the fingers around his collar.

Another pull makes him whimper as a pleasant purr builds in his chest, something you’d never heard him do before. And much less had you ever caught a glimpse of his long and soft tail, the very same tail that currently curled around your body as Taehyun hoists you from the mattress. — “Wanna give you kittens, my kittens”, he grunts, hands clawing at every part of your body that he managed to access.

You knew better than to listen to his words, that it was just his heat controlling the nonsense slipping past his unguarded lips. But the idea still made your heart flutter and you felt yourself clench around his cock, drawing a sharp hiss from him. — His fingers are on your clit, rough and all over the place but the raw and sheer need he emits is more than enough to have you spiraling as you cling to him, legs wrapping around his waists as you feel your climax pulsate through you with a loud cry.

Taehyun continues to rut against you despite your wails of overstimulation, his hips jerking into you with such vigor that you thought you might break in half. His whines are near ear piercing as they ring out in the hot air of your bedroom, teeth threatening to break skin as he anchors himself on your neck.

When he releases inside of you, it’s with a drawn out mewl, rocking himself close to you as he sloppily continues to fuck his cum back inside, ensuring that you have his kittens. “So pretty with my kittens”, he hums, his voice is near drowsy as his trembling arms give out. — With a low grunt he pulls you against him, flopping down on the mattress, his cock still nestled deep inside your sensitive cunt and you shift uncomfortably, the small movement immediately met by an irritated whine as Taehyun’s tail curls around you.

“Stay”, is all he says, strong arms wrapping across your body as he locks you in place. The feeling is surprisingly comforting and you find yourself relaxing in his embrace. A small part of you wishes to stay like this forever worried that he might revert back to his old self as soon as this heat passes.

But as you wake the next morning you find that Taehyun is more than ready to show his need for you once again, and the day after that.

And the collar stayed on.

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temis-de-leon · 6 months

Text

MC with a selfish best friend

MC mourning the loss of a long toxic friendship with the help of the brothers.

Characters: demon brothers and fem!MC (written as platonic, but could be read as romantic)

Masterlist , Part 2 (kind of)

CW: continued discussion about weight gain and weight loss, eating as a coping mechanism, obssesive and manipulative behaviour, emotional blackmail, a glimpse of animal neglect, a tiny nod at suicide, MC trying to hide her feelings, anxiety, TLC from the brothers

A/N: kind of self insert because I'm writing my own experience, so this isn't the most relatable MC. Still, I hope you enjoy it! Remember I'm not a native english speaker, so there might be some grammar mistakes.

Back then, not that long ago, MC was completely sure she wouldn’t go any further in life. She was stuck in college, in her family and her friend group. There was a dynamic she could work through and, although it could be better, she wasn’t one to complain.

It was a flooded basement with filthy water, but at least it lacked rats.

She just needed some time to start working on herself. Go to therapy, lose some weight maybe? Start cooking again and stop wasting money on fast food. She did use to enjoy spending time in the kitchen and experimenting, after all, but the only things she cooked during her last months in the human realm were mugcakes and pasta. Not necessarily nutritious, but easy to make.

Thank god she had her best friend.

Her companion in the basement, the one with the flashlight.

MC wished she let her hold her hand too.

“She’s overthinking again. Not good”

“Look who’s talking”

“Hey! It was just a joke!”

“Should we talk to her?”

“Maybe when she comes back, else we’ll give her a heart attack”

“Yeah, Lucifer would kill us”

“Oh, so now we’re doing this for Lucifer?”

“Don’t be selfish, Mammon”

“Who ya calling selfish?”

“Ugh”

MC listened carefully, softly smiling at Beel and Levi’s voices drowning Mammon’s in an almost silent screaming match.

She couldn’t see them from her position, her upper body completely sprawled over the armrest and her line of sight lost in the ashes of the chimney. The fire cracked, threatening to die in front of her, but it was difficult to get up when her body weighted so much. She was tired and hungry and nauseous and even the idea of sitting straight sent bile to her mouth.

Then someone walked into the common room, shushing harshly and getting the other brothers to cease their fighting. Whoever it was, probably Lucifer or Satan, must have thought she was asleep.

So MC closed her eyes, hiding her face in the crook of her arm and basking in the comfortable silence. She could hear them still; the shuffle of cards, a plastic wrapper, buttons and joysticks.

The newcomer got close to her, covering her body with a blanket and sitting at her feet before opening a book. There was enough space in the couch for at least two more people, but MC still curled up, trying to make more room for him. She stopped in her tracks when he grabbed her ankle in a gentle grip, a gesture that brought some warmth where her pants didn’t reach.

Would someone add another log for the fire? Everyone seemed too comfortable to move.

At least the blanket was thick. Pure hellish wool or something, because every animal in the Devildom was just a bigger scarier version of those in the human realm. It was also, however, softer than any type of textile she could’ve ever find back home, so the creature could spit fire for all she cared.

Suddenly, the brother caressing her ankle tightened his grip for a short moment, demanding her attention. When MC opened her eyes, she found Satan smiling at her with no one else in the room. She must’ve fallen asleep after all.

“Dinner is ready”

He let her stretch, unconsciously comparing her to a cat when she arched her back and cracked every possible bone in her body. Satan wondered if that ever hurt, but MC seemed to enjoy it very much whenever she had the occasion to do so, like when they came home from classes after a long day or when they bought groceries for the whole week and Beel.

“Did you not sleep well last night?”

“Not for a while, no”

“Is that so? Something troubling you, MC? Anything I can help with?”

“I don’t know”

She sounded sincere, but Satan didn’t buy it. Only a month had passed since MC came back to the Devildom, looking a bit more tired than when she left at the end of the first year of the program, and she’d acted ecstatic when she learnt she would be living with them again.

He was sure the problem relied in her human phone, something she didn’t have last year and Diavolo had kindly allowed her to keep.

All of his brothers, even the eldest, were greatly impressed when MC showed them how she unlocked the device with her fingerprints, as well as the human versions of Devilgram, Deviltube and Akuzon. That was a fun day, but time passed and soon the phone became an inconvenience. Someone at the other side of the line was taking their beloved human’s time, leaving her exhausted in the aftermath of their conversations and, if Satan vision’s was correct, teary eyed.

That would not continue. Not on his watch.

“We’ll look into it in another moment. Right now, let’s go with the others. Aren’t you hungry?”

“God, yes!”

They both chuckled and he forced his thoughts away. They could wait for the time being.

Beel didn’t judge her, but she didn’t feel as happy as she thought she would whenever they sneaked in the kitchen at the late hours of the night.

Opening the fridge door with slow movements, trying not to make noise while taking plates or bowls and eating in silence between giggles and short whispers brought a sort of familiarity. And Beel never judged MC. Why would he? He ate even more than her. He’d keep going long after she was finished, full enough to want to puke everything, and MC would feel a wicked satisfaction knowing that no matter how much she ate, there was someone that would eat much more.

Those nights she’d go to bed feeling sick and greasy, too regretful and high on sugar to be tired. Then, by morning, she’d force herself to eat breakfast and go on with her day just to get whatever sense of normality she could reach.

Although, lately, things had been slightly different.

They still got together at night and filled their mouths to the brim, but Beel was adamant about MC going to the gym with him when the morning came, before everyone was out of bed. Of course she’d said no since the beginning, but he kept insisting, saying she didn’t have to exercise if she didn’t want to.

MC still said no.

Then Asmodeus put his input.

“I’m not going to tell you what to do, hon’, but you aren’t getting your 8 hours of sleep and you’re adding calories during the night. That’s horrible for your skin!”

And had it been her mother saying that, MC would’ve lashed out, rejecting opinions she’d been hearing for years over and over and over again, but this was Asmo. The Avatar of Lust. The most beautiful demon in the entire Devildom. MC guessed she wasn’t being fair to her mother, who also loved her and hated seeing her so sick and tired all the time, when it was Asmo she couldn’t ignore.

“I get anxious when I go to bed” she finally confessed.

MC could feel Satan’s eyes on her, but he stayed silent.

“Spend the night with me” intervened Belphie with an honest smile, a muted worry in his eyes “I could make you so tired you wouldn’t want to get out of bed”

“No way!”

Everyone looked at Mammon and several sighs filled the room. The demon, although deeply blushing, kept talking with an overbearing smugness.

“If someone’s gonna sleep with her, it’s gonna be me! Don’t worry MC, the Great Mammon will chase the nightmares away!”

“I think sleeping with you would give her nightmares, actually”

Mammon turned to Levi, ready to swing at his brother, but MC talked before the fight started.

“It’s not nightmares, Mams, I just feel anxious. You know, like, I can’t stop thinking”

“About what?”

She looked at Satan, who was staring at her with a calculating glance, surely remembering what she told him days before when she fell asleep on the couch.

“I don’t know… Everything, I guess”

All of them stayed silent, ignoring what they were previously doing. It didn’t feel uncomfortable, but MC wished someone said anything.

Of course, Mammon spoke first.

“Well, that’s a lot”

“No shit, you moron”

Levi finally got smacked and the rest of them went back to do their own thing, letting MC’s lack of sleep behind. A part of her wanted to keep the conversation going, but she felt too embarrassed when she tried to open her mouth again, especially having Satan looking at her like a hawk.

You don't want me to stare at you? I want to. What's the problem?

She achieved to ignore him in the end.

That night she stayed in her room, pacing, chewing her sweatshirt’s aglet while humming that Phineas and Ferb’s song and turning her headphone’s volume to the maximum with a different music threatening to deteriorate her hearing.

Anything to distract herself and not go to the kitchen.

Finally, hours after bidding the brothers goodnight, MC threw herself on the bed. Her feet were aching, its footprints surely engraved in the carpet, and she forgot to take her headphones off, making the position uncomfortable, but the important thing was that she didn’t have the need to eat anymore.

However, Beel still knocked her door at dawn.

MC stared at him when she opened, bleary-eyed and mouth as dry as cotton, the hem of her pyjama pants so high they looked like pantaloons. He, on the other hand, was completely awake and seemed ready to conquer the day.

“Before you say anything, I’m not going to the gym today”

There was a heavy silence for a couple of seconds.

“Then why did you wake me up? We have classes tomorrow”

Beel stared at her with a worried expression.

“We don’t. It’s Saturday”

“Ah”

She could’ve sleep longer? MC wished she was mad at him, but his puppy stare was hypnotizing.

“I want to go for a walk today. And I want you to come with me”

He lowered his gaze for a moment, biting his cheek while waiting for an answer. MC turned around and looked at the window, still unable to decipher what time it was by looking at the sky.

There were a few things MC missed from the human realm. The sun was one of them.

“We could go to the park, feed some birds and then have breakfast somewhere else. I swear I won’t eat the seeds this time"

She chuckled, rolling her eyes when he smiled back. Then she looked down at the rolled pants and her bare legs.

“Is it cold?”

“I don’t think so, but you can borrow my jacket”

MC sighed and rubbed her eyes, waiting until the white spots disappeared before walking towards her closet. She wouldn’t be able to fall asleep again, she knew that.

“Let me change and then we’re going. But you owe me one, Beel!”

His smile was too wide for him to answer.

Breakfast with Beel ended up lasting three whole hours, which was understandable, and they spent the whole time talking about nothing and almost everything, both of them clearly avoiding the subject of her sleeping habits.

MC really did want to talk about it, but then again, what did she want to talk about exactly? She had trouble falling asleep, yes, and she’d gone back to eating her feelings, but she couldn’t point out the reason. Her nights were filled with paranoia, making her revaluate every piece of interaction she’d had since she got back home from the Devildom months ago. Did she spoke correctly? Did people understand that she was just studying abroad and not begging for attention?

She hoped her best friend dropped those accusations. MC would never stoop so low. Just thinking about it brought tears to her eyes.

“Don’t you want anything else?”

MC looked at Beel and the stack of plates surrounding him at the table, mugs and cardboard boxes stained with chocolate, whipped cream and frosting. Her side of the booth was much cleaner, but when she lowered her gaze the only thing she could think of were mugcakes and pasta and the taste of bile in her mouth at the sight of her bloated stomach.

“No, I’m fine”

She knew he loved her. She knew she could talk to him and he would listen and maybe even hold her hand, but the small restaurant was already filled with demons and witches and whatnot and MC knew she’d only be able to sob the moment she’d open her mouth, so she stayed quiet.

Beel nodded, going back to his food with a strange calmness. Maybe he was close to being full?

But no, it wasn’t that.

MC gasped when she felt his foot weakly tapping hers before going under it to support its weight. A small comfort, like the prelude of a long awaited hug.

He didn’t know how much she appreciated it.

Winter had already reached the Devildom the day MC opened her closet and stared at her clothes. No matter what she chose, everything was at least a size bigger.

She guessed finally going to the gym with Beel did have some payoff.

“Is something wrong, MC?”

Asmo turned the lights of her bathroom off, walking where she was silently standing while staring at the discarded clothes around her.

“You don’t feel like dressing up today? We can stay home and do some self-care if you want”

MC turned around to look at him with gratitude. She knew how much he wanted to go shopping, especially with her. Finals ended just the day before and everyone had been so occupied they’d barely seen each other outside classes and meal times.

“Don’t worry, it’s not that. It’s just that… everything feels wrong. I think I lost weight”

He chuckled at her revelation, hugging her waist and kissing her cheek between giggles.

“You’re taking care of yourself, silly! Whatever are you doing with Beel in the gym, I wonder…?”

She laughed and lightly hit his arm, showing no ill intent, and Asmo smiled in response, not bothering to hide his lewd expression.

“Don’t be nasty!”

“Oh, I’m just joking! But you know what this means, right? We get to renew your whole closet!”

MC turned around again, perfectly knowing that she could either spent her monthly allowance on clothes or start thinking on how she could rock the oversize streetwear style.

She sighed, trying to hide her smile with no success before speaking again. Asmo’s eyes were stuck on her.

“Very well, then” she wasn’t finish talking yet when the demon clapped his hands and jumped in excitement “I’ll trust your criteria”

He gasped and hit her arm in return.

“As you should!”

“So… how do I look?”

Mammon whistled, clapping and signalling her to turn around in response. Once she did a little twirl, he clapped even harder, not stopping even when she blushed in embarrassment and ran towards him to stop his overly excited appreciation.

“You look mighty fine, MC!”

“Stop!”

“Has anyone ever told you how hot you look?”

“Stop!!”

They were both laughing, her chasing him all around his room with burning cheeks and a gigantic smile.

The shopping bags waited patiently at the door, half of them already empty with a pile of clothes folded on the couch. Mammon had insisted on a private catwalk the moment he learnt she’d gone shopping with Asmo, his offense completely gone barely half an hour after starting the show in his room.

Every time she changed in his opened closet he’d cover his eyes with his hands and every time she came out with a new outfit he’d scream praises like a madman.

MC wasn’t used to this level of compliments and he sure was making it hard to stay calm.

“C’mon, go change again!”

“You’re acting insane right now, Mams”

She was smiling like crazy and her cheeks were hurting, but she didn’t want it to stop. When was the last time someone had been this hyped over her looking pretty? She couldn’t remember.

Then her phone rang.

MC stopped smiling when she saw the name on the screen.

She thought about answering and spoiling a nice evening because of a sour one-sided conversation. Was it worth it? Sure her friend could wait a couple more hours, right? She’d survived without MC the whole year she spent at the Devildom uncommunicated, after all.

“Is it The Unnameable?”

MC stared at her phone for one more second before turning around to look at Mammon, who was kneeling on the couch with his arms crossed over the backrest, eyes peeking with curiosity and another feeling she couldn’t identify.

“The Unname… Robdemor??”

He nodded, blushing and looking away.

“Yeah. You know, like, her name brings bad luck or some shit”

“She doesn’t bring bad luck”

MC didn’t sound as convincing as she wanted to and Mammon’s incredulity proved her point.

“Don’t be stupid, MC”

The pot calling the kettle back, she wanted to say, but no words came to her mouth. She was being stupid, wasn’t she? Everyone at the house already knew what to expect whenever her phone ringed or vibrated and they always did their best to distract her so she could leave the damn thing behind. She suspected Belphie even turned it off at one point.

Staring at her feet, trying to voice her feelings, MC talked again.

“She just… needs me sometimes”

“Sometimes??”

Mammon got up, going around the couch to reach her. He looked flabbergasted, eyes opened wide and a myriad of words stuck in his throat.

The phone stopped ringing, but soon a flood of messages interrupted the silence to call for her attention instead. When she looked back at Mammon, he had frustration in his eyes.

She decided then she couldn’t bear to see him like this, so serious and reasonable. Was it too late to go back to chasing each other, laughing while trying new clothes? She’d been capable of keeping her feelings to herself since she could remember, but Mammon wouldn’t let her do that and she feared the moment the rest of the brothers decided enough was enough too.

God, she needed to talk, but not right now. Talking would make it real and she still wasn’t strong enough for the whole situation to be real.

In a matter of seconds her eyes were watering and she felt as if her throat had thorns stuck in her flesh, but before she could do anything about it there were arms wrapping around her. MC wasted no time hugging Mammon back, trying her hardest not to spoil any tears. The tags in the back of her new shirt poked her skin, making her squirm and get even closer to Mammon’s body.

He was rocking her side to side while petting her hair and there was no doubt he’d deny the whole ordeal happening afterwards, but she let herself enjoy the feeling anyways. It was nice being taken care of.

It was the first time MC had gone to bed so early since before college. Her eyelids felt heavy and the bed was soft and comfortable, at least three blankets shielding her from the cold outside that froze her window and sunk her room in darkness.

But she couldn’t stop staring at her phone.

She’d turned the vibration off days ago, but that didn’t stop the notifications from showing up on the lock screen and, although she could also take care of that, MC still wanted to be able to read the messages without needing to open the app.

Her best friend talked about everything, good or bad. Mostly bad. How she thought her boyfriend was cheating on her, even when she was the one cheating on him, how much she was eating because there was no one to stop her, how tired she was to even clean her cat’s litter box. She’d say if MC were there everything would be so much better, she wouldn’t feel so lonely.

She didn’t ask about MC once.

“You’re thinking so hard it’s giving me a headache”

MC’s body violently jerked at Belphie’s voice.

He’d entered the room in silence, closing the door and approaching her bed without making any noise. Seeing her freaking out made him snicker, but he was too tired to fully laugh and simply laid down next to her.

“Jesus, Belphie”

“No, just me”

“Ha ha ha”

Her sarcasm didn’t affect him in the slightest. MC watched as he closed his eyes and offered his hand to held hers in a firm grasp, probably not wanting to let her go during the night.

“Turn that damn thing off” he growled against the pillow when a new message showed up.

“I’ve seen you sleep on the ground before; you can’t complain about some light”

“Watch me”

She thought he was just joking, challenging her like a small child would, but Belphie managed to surprise her when he rolled over her body, grabbed the phone and threw it to the other side of the room.

“Belphie!”

He shushed, sealing her lips under his hand before hugging her body with all four limbs, trapping her under the covers.

MC could’ve complained and hit him until he let her go to retrieve the phone, but that would’ve meant pissing him off and staring at the screen for another hour or until her friend decided it was time to show some interest in MC’s life.

…

Whoa.

…

So that’s what it was.

That simple, uh?

MC waited for something to happen at her epiphany. Nausea, panic, heavy breathing. Instead, she felt an overpowering sense of relief. Her heartbeat evened and the frown she didn’t know she had in her forehead disappeared.

No headache, no memories. For once, no nothing.

“You’re not dying, aren’t you?”

Belphie’s head rose, looking at her with suspicion, but her eyes were stuck in the ceiling.

“Why? Would you feel guilty?

He stood over her then, pouting and frowning, and MC had to stop herself from laughing.

“Okay, you know what? I already said I was sorry. You can’t hold that against me for the rest of your life”

“I will as long as I can get something out of it”

“You’re evil”

“Said the demon”

His head fell face first on the pillow with a thud and if she didn’t know him any better, she’d be worried about him suffocating to death during the night.

“Why did you ask that, tho?” MC finally talked.

“Your heart stopped for a second” he shrugged and mumbled, his hold on her hand stronger than before.

“Oh… Well… Don’t worry. I’m okay”

“Are you sure?”

No, not really, but she didn’t want to talk about it in that moment. Maybe another time, when her speech wasn’t slurred due to sleep and she could organize her thoughts with a clear mind.

She hummed as an answer before speaking one last time.

“Goodnight, Belphie”

“Sweet dreams, MC”

He’d make sure of that.

MC had been quiet for a while. Not out of sadness nor ire, but something much more private. Something that left her pensive and still, staring into nothing with a serious expression. She laughed and talked with the brothers and, from what he heard, she enjoyed going to the gym with Beel, but Lucifer knew there was another factor escaping his reach.

Whatever it was, it changed MC for the better, so he was happy.

Even when the strangest ideas crossed her mind.

“I think I’m going to cut my hair”

He looked at her, clicking his tongue in disapproval when he saw her sitting sideways in one of the chairs with her feet resting in the other. She had a book resting in her lap. How long had she been looking at him and not reading?

“May I ask why?”

“I need a change”

Lucifer stared, taking his glasses off before crossing his arms over the document he was previously reading. MC got up and walked, zigzagging her way towards his desk as if she was drunk, but she looked as hopeful as ever.

“Did something happen?”

She nodded, ignoring his question right after.

“One of these days I’m just gonna… grab a glass of wine, go to the bathroom and bam! Haircut”

He raised an eyebrow, trying to hide a smile at her words. He hadn’t seen her so playful in months and the sudden change felt like a breath of fresh air.

“Do you even like wine, MC?”

“That’s not the point”

“And you shouldn’t use scissors while drunk, especially near your head” he ignored her “If it’s money you’re worried about, I can pay for a good hairdresser”

She laughed and shook her head, partially sitting on the desk. They stayed silent for a few seconds and Lucifer let himself observe her, how she bit her bottom lip deep in thought and how her fingers intertwined with a certain force. She was probably hurting herself at that point.

“I just really need a change”

He could tell there was more she wanted to say, but that seemed to be enough for the moment. The silence afterwards felt full with comfort.

“That’s fine”

MC nodded and sent him a small smile before going back to the chair, this time sitting with her knees stuck to her chest, but before he could put his glasses on to continue his work, she spoke again.

“Here’s what we’re going to do: I cut my hair in the bathroom and then you take me to the hairdresser to style it. Sounds good?”

“Are you going to drink while using the scissors?”

“I’m not a child, Lucifer”

“Might as well”

“Hey!”

“Just joking” he laughed, but MC could tell there was some seriousness behind his smile.

“I drink wine, I cut my hair and you check I don’t stab myself on accident, how about that?”

Lucifer pondered about it, envisioning himself behind her and watching over her reflection in the mirror, a bottle of wine in the countertop and another of Demonus waiting for them in the music room. She’d be the one to clean the aftermath, that bit was obvious, but something told him she wouldn’t really care about that.

The more he thought about it, the less strength he had to fight it. She could’ve asked Asmodeus or Mammon, but she asked him. MC wanted him to be with her during her progress, as stupid as the method was.

“Sounds like a plan to me, MC”

Her smile at his words was worth millions.

It wasn’t until several hours had passed that MC wondered if Levi invited her to his room with a hidden motive in mind.

The anime came out less than a day ago and she’d never even seen an ad about it, but he’d thoroughly claimed it was made for her.

And she could see why he would say that, honestly.

Sure, no ancient dying star granted her any mystical powers that allowed her to soar the skies or wear an alarmingly short sparkly dress; and she didn’t have an animal sidekick or a romantic interest that only appeared at night for some reason. She didn’t have an arch nemesis either, but she did have the closest thing.

MC was the selfish one, apparently, because how could she? How could MC have the audacity to ignore her best friend’s messages in her desperate times of need? Her boyfriend broke up with her because he discovered the cheating and no one was there to remind her of feeding the cat, neither to monitor her diet nor to fix the consequences of her bad decisions. She was in the lowest point of her life and MC dared to lose weight and spend time with her new friends? Outrageous!

MC unlocked her phone and stared in silence at the new text and voice messages, as well as some missed calls.

You disappoint me, MC.

After all I did for you?

I’ll die and it’ll be your fault.

I’ll die and I’ll make sure you’re the one to discover my body.

You’ll never be able to forget about me then.

You’re disgusting.

MC stared at the screen, not knowing if she should laugh or cry about it. In the end she chuckled and forced down the sting in her throat.

The TV in front of her suddenly turned into a kaleidoscope and she squinted as the heroine jumped from platform to platform, blasting her wand and singing spells. If she understood correctly, the cheery character was fighting her way through the first big boss of the season, her friends close behind her.

She could feel Levi’s eyes on her, no doubt studying her reactions to see if she liked the anime as much as he did.

“Hey, Henry!”

MC turned to look at him and smiled brightly at his rosy cheeks. She expected him to explain some hidden lore or the meaning behind the soundtrack, but he surprised her with his next words.

“Yeah?”

“I haven’t told you yet, but your hair looks so cool!”

“Oh!” she widely opened her eyes in appreciation, showing her teeth in a beaming smile right after “Thanks, Levi!”

“You look… eh… upgraded. Well, no, not upgraded. Erm…” he avoided her gaze for the next few seconds before pausing the anime, letting the room go back to silence. MC kept quiet, trying not to laugh at his awkwardness so he wouldn’t misunderstand the situation.

“You look really pretty, MC. Even better than her”

Levi nodded at the TV and MC stared at the heroine, the pause conveniently showing her winning pose. Big sparkly eyes winking at her and a knowing smile occupying half of her face, as if she was approving Levi’s affirmation.

MC felt the need to cry right then and there, but she held it in.

Her phone lighted up one last time before she grabbed it and turned it off in anger. She had a couple of seconds before the screen permanently went back to black, letting her read the last message.

Who do you think you are? How could you do this to me?

MC seethed. She knew who she was, even if she was still learning. Her hands itched and she forced herself not to throw the phone on the ground with all her strength. She still needed it to talk to other friends and relatives, after all.

After an entire minute filled with tense silence, MC spoke, suddenly meek and shy.

“Hey Lev…”

“MC?”

He was staring her with caring eyes, unsure of what to do or what to say.

Fortunately, for the first time in a long while, MC knew what she needed to do. For herself and no one else.

“Would you help me change my phone number?”

She could write down the numbers of those she cared about the most and send a message asking them not to share hers without her permission.

Take care of her arch nemesis without destroying the entire world. Accept the help of people who showed joy at her improvement. Buy new clothes, change her style, cut her hair.

God, walking without that heavy weight on her shoulders would be difficult and painful, but she’d rather die before letting her ex best friend destroy her will and power one last time.

She laughed with a choke and Levi gasped her name.

She was crying.

@ourfinalisation

545 notes · View notes

vicocaaisha · 6 months

Text

All Mine

Baek Harin x Reader Fic.

Sypnosis: Having friends is not your top priority; therefore, you kept rejecting Harin's advances. Not until she got jealous when you found yourself a new friend.

Warnings: SMUT, mature scenes, choking, virgin!reader, possesive!Harin, bottom!reader, top!harin, stalking, read at your own risk!

Requested by: @imurcherie1

“Y/N-ah, do you want to hang out later after school?”

“Harin wants us to eat later together at lunch, can you sit with us?”

“Can you join our group for the school project? We can do it after school!”

“Hey, Y/N, can you teach me how to play chess? Help me beat Harin!”

Typical Wooyi, always asking you for help. You think it’s just an excuse to make you hang out or spend time together with Harin, which for you is a waste of time because you have other things you want to do than doing friendly stuff that you’re not interested in.

“Sorry, unnie. I have other things to do! Maybe next time.” is the response you always answer to Wooyi.

You sometimes wish that you are in the lower grade, like in grade C so that no one won’t bother you and leave you alone. Being family friends with Harin means you’re also powerful inside your classroom, that’s why your classmates are always clinging to your side because they think that you’ll favour them or something.

But you didn’t care. All you care about is your studies, not the recognitions but the information you learn. Such a nerd thing to say but deep inside you really love studying, learning so many topics fascinates you.

You are smarter than Doah, but you don’t even participate in school competitions. You’re just focused on gaining skills.

“You look pretty having your hair up in a bun, Y/N” Harin greeted you.

“Yes, you do! Can you teach me how to do that later at lunch, please, Y/N.” Wooyi practically begged.

Here we go again, Harin’s group always bothers you to join them during lunch. You don’t have an interest in being friends with them even though your families are good friends. You’re just not that fond of being friends with someone, you like being alone more. Plus, Wooyi enjoys to torture your classmate, which is like a redflag to you because how can you enjoy on tormenting someone?

“I’m sorry, guys. I actually have a thesis report that I’m finishing. You know, I make money doing these things for other students.” You replied.

Harin only scoffed and started to walk away from you. She knows that you’ll just reject their invitation to hang out with them. Harin can’t do anything about it. She can’t blackmail you into being friends with her because there’s nothing hideous about you or even a secret.

Harin could only stare at you from afar. She likes you– no–, she wants you to be hers.

She’s so glad that you being preoccupied with your hobbies means you’re less aware of what's happening in your surroundings. Harin could easily stalk you and you won’t even notice that some of your things from your room are missing.

“I read somewhere that the new season of Jujutsu Kaisen is airing next week.” Jaeun said as she sat beside you.

How did she find you? You’re sitting under a tree that’s far away from your classroom’s building.

“How do you even know I watch that?” You scoffed as you read your book. Does she need something? She’s usually on her own or with Suji. What does she want now?

“Oh, you don’t? I was actually giving this Geto plushie for free.” Jaeun waved the plushie doll on your face.

“Oh my! He’s my favourite!” You were shocked, you can’t find any Jujutsu Kaisen merchandise here in South Korea, and Geto is your favourite, “Can I have it, please? Where’d you get this?” you asked as you grabbed the plushie.

“Oh, umm…” Jauen was stammering. She didn't know how to handle this kind of situation. She’s scared that she might fuck it up after having your attention.

“He’s so cute! What do you want in return, can I please have him?” You begged her. This is the first time that your classmate sees that you’re capable of showing feelings, too.

“O-of course, uhh… I just want to be friends with you, can you join me during lunch?” You were too happy from the plushie you received that you accepted her offer without thinking about it.

And that’s how you ended up being with Jaeun. She always follows you around and you were too happy that one of your classmates watches your favourite anime. When you’re with her, you are too talkative about your favourite anime, Jauen doesn’t care though; she’s satisfied that she finally is on your good side.

Harin noticed that you finally are friends with someone, and that someone is the person who she despised the most. She was angry, she wanted to harm Jaeun but it’s impossible because of Suji always rescues Jaeun whenever she corners the tall girl.

Jaeun introduced you to Suji and Se-eun. You were awkward when you met them, you don’t really like social gatherings; you can only handle one person at a time.

So here you are, on the rooftop with them. Suji introduced you to their plan once they figured that you’re trusty enough. You rejected their proposal though.

“Sorry, Suji. I don’t have an interest in being a hero here. I know, call me selfish or whatever. Do you know who you’re provoking?” You asked them genuinely.

Suji still tried to convince you. You just rejected it again and excused yourself. Do they know what they’re doing? Are they high? Harin is so dangerous. Even if you want to end this game yourself, deep inside you still value Harin.

You’ve known Harin ever since the both of you were younger. You secretly had a crush on her, when you saw her performing a dance. You were in a trance, you befriended her. You thought at first you wanted to be just like her but as your friendship progresses, your feelings also progresses. You tried to ignore it but can’t help it.

Although, as the both of you were growing older, she started to change. Sometimes you think that she turned into a monster but still, you cared for her so much even if you don’t show it.

You wanted to be away from her because you realized being in love with a girl is rather unusual. You’re scared that she might notice that you’re in love with her and betray you. Harin is unpredictable, you’ve seen it yourself.

“Y/N!” Wooyi runs into you as she sees you walking down the corridor.

“Wooyi, I’m sorry, but I’m not in the mood right now. My head aches so badly.” You tried to make an excuse before she could ask another invitation to hang out with them.

You tried to walk faster, “The chairman wants to talk to you right now, I’ve been looking for you everywhere.” Wooyi said as she tried to catch up with your fast pace.

“What? She could have texted me beforehand. She has my number, ugh. I don’t even look presentable right now.” You mumbled to yourself, Wooyi seemed to hear that.

“Oh, don’t humble yourself. You’re always pretty! You should spray some perfume, bet she’ll go crazy over you!” Wooyi said, which she regretted saying afterwards because it confused you. The chairman going crazy over your perfume?

“Oh, I’ll head to the classroom now. Gotta find them bootlickers!” Wooyi suddenly parted ways, you didn’t even get the chance to ask what she was talking about.

You sighed. Usually if the chairman, Harin’s mother, wants to meet you, she’ll schedule a meeting or she’ll text you and your parents about it. Also, you never had a meeting inside the school because she said once that it feels unprofessional meeting inside the school. What could be the problem now?

You are now in front of the chairman’s office, spraying perfume over your uniform. You took a big breath before opening the door, you were nervous that you might be in trouble, especially after hearing Suji’s crazy plan.

“Hello, Mrs. Baek. I’m sorry if I took too long, I was at the–” you stopped what you were trying to say when Harin revealed herself by turning around her chair.

“Uhm… Where’s your mother, Harin? She asked for me, didn’t she?” You tried to ask to make the awkward atmosphere out of the room.

“That would be for another time, Y/N-ah.” Harin said and stood up from her chair; walking towards you.

“You’re smoking again, I told you that’s not good for you.” You tried to lecture Harin. You are now currently in the middle of the room.

“I didn’t ask for your opinion.” Harin said as she took another puff of her cig and she continued walking after passing you. Where is she going?

“Okay then, I better get going now if your mother is not here.” You rolled your eyes.

You heard a click. Harin locked the door behind you, trapping you inside the chairman’s office.

You began to feel nervous, you haven’t been in a room alone with Harin for the longest time. You tried to avoid this kind of encounter because you can’t contain your feelings. When talking with Harin alone, you will start to stutter.

“I wanted you here.” Harin dropped her cigarette and stepped on it. She’s aware that you dislike the smell of cigarette.

“Ohh, can we make it faster, please?” You were trying your best not to stutter because she’ll sense that you’re nervous.

“Enjoying being friends with Jaeun?” Harin started to walk towards you, which made you walk backwards as well. You were like a prey in her eyes, anytime she might devour you.

Oh shit. You thought to yourself. You forgot that Jaeun and Harin had a history before, she talked to you about this before! How could you forget it! It’s because of that damn plushie, you got too excited over that.

“H-harin, I’m so sorry. I forgot, I’m really sorry. It’s because she gave me the plushie, I got too distracted over that. I don’t mean to offend you, I swear–” You stopped your rumbling when your back hit the table. She got you very cornered this time.

You didn’t have the space anymore to move back and she still is walking forward slowly as if she’s stalking a prey. You’re very scared now, hell, you even are sweating too much for your liking. Note that this room is air conditioned.

Harin giggled to herself, “Y/N, why are you trembling so hard?”

She is now in front of you.

She tugged on your school necktie, which made you lean towards her. Since she is taller, you are looking up at her.

“Tell me, Y/N. Whom do you like to kiss?” She’s taunting you and all you could do is look at her doe eyes.

“Do you like Jaeun?” She asked you with a mischievous smile.

“I don’t like her, I don’t even have an i-interest to date a-anyone.” You stuttered, fuck you really are nervous.

“You’re lying, Y/N/N.” That nickname she used to call you when the both of you were younger.

“You’re stuttering, Y/N, it means you’re lying. Which one is it, hmm?” Her face is inches away from yours. Even if you haven't talked to her for years, she still knows your mannerisms.

Before you could even reply, she suddenly kissed you.

It felt passionate for a short time, not until she bit your lip that caused you to whimper and she immediately inserted her tongue. Did she practice with other girls before? How come is she so good with kissing? You felt jealous...

Your thoughts got cut off short when she stopped kissing you and started to undo your blouse.

“Harin, we s-shouldn’t be doing this.” She got tired of your mindless comments, so Harin pulled your necktie tighter that made you choke.

“Did I tell you to talk?” Harin only smiled when she saw you struggling. You were just gripping her clothes and whimpering because of the restriction of the air in your lungs.

Once she was satisfied, she stopped pulling your necktie and continued removing the articles of your clothes.

You were now left in your school blouse that is open, and your skirt; no bra nor panty. You suddenly felt insecure about your body when Harin was staring at your body up and down. Your first instinct was to cover up your body, but Harin beat you to it and held your wrists before you could even move them.

“H-harin” You can’t understand what’s happening between the two of you. Is she toying you?

“Stop talking, Y/N! God, you made me wait for so long, and then Jaeun easily caught your attention?!” Harin felt insatiable over you.

She then started kissing your neck, leaving marks all over your neck. You can’t even move and too scared to protest but deep inside you’re really liking this.

“You’re mine, Y/N/N.” Harin whispered, hunger laced on her voice.

“Hnng–, H-harin!” You yelped when you felt Harin’s long, slim fingers toy your clit.

Yes, you’ve touched yourself before but Harin massaging your clit felt so amazing. You can’t contain your moans anymore. You tried to shush yourself by putting your free arm on your mouth. Harin noticed this and…

She inserted two fingers, you aren’t ready for it, and it’s definitely your first time. It hurts like hell. You were struggling below her, and all you could do was to let out a shameless moan.

“A-hh, it hurts. It hurts, Ha-rin! Hnng!” She only removed your arms that were blocking your mouth and continued fingering you even if you're hurting.

Pain soon starts to feel pleasure soon enough. Harin is still putting hickeys on your chest area. She then started to look at your face, your fucked up face. Looking at you with adoration, you look so good even if you’re being fucked, Harin thought to herself.

“Baby, you look so good.” Harin whispered seductively, she couldn’t even explain how turned on she is right now. The stoic and nerdy, L/N Y/N, is being fucked out like this.

“You’re mine, Y/N. I don’t want you seeing anybody but me, you get that?” Harin starts to get rougher on you, hitting that one spot makes you struggle to respond to her. Because of that, she slapped you, thinking to herself that it might knock you to your senses.

“Mhhmm– sorry! Ahh– Fuck!” was all you could blur out during that time.

Harin only chuckled as she pressed down her thumb to your clit. Fingering you and massaging your clit at the same time feels like you’re going to climax soon.

“I f–eel, ahh! Like I’m gonna p–EE!” You gripped onto her shirt more.

“Say you’re mine, Y/N, then you can let go.” Harin teased you. She then started to suck on your breasts, which added to your stimulation more.

“I’m y–yours! Harin–nng. I lov–e you for so long, Fuck!” You didn’t even realize that you accidentally confessed your love towards her because of the pleasure you are feeling. Harin felt over the moon when she heard your confession, which drove her even more very crazy and continued to get rougher on you.

As you trembled against her holds, you couldn't contain yourself anymore; you tried to let go of the pressure you were feeling, and instead, you squirted.

Harin continued to finger you until you rode out your high. You didn’t even realize the mess you created on her uniform because you were still trying to calm down. So many thoughts were running to your mind that time and one of those is that you just fucked your long time crush.

“Baby, are you okay?” Harin asked you with softness evident in her voice. She brushed your baby hairs out of your face with her dry hand. You look so exhausted, and your face is very flushed. You just nodded weakly, too tired to say anything.

You were laid against the table, and Harin decided to take you on the couch so that you could rest comfortably. You’re too tired to even care about your appearance at that time. You just let Harin help you wear your panty and your bra.

Maybe you could rest for a bit, so you decided to close your eyes.

“I love you.” Harin whispered as she was doing after care to you. She must have thought you were asleep.

“You do?”

“Yes, so much. I was trying so hard to reconnect our friendship again.” Harin kissed you passionately and with love this time.

“You’re wet?” You asked sheepishly as you felt her clothes.

“Oh, you squirted.” Harin smiled at you.

“What? No, I did not!” Harin laughed at your response. You’re still stubborn as you were before when both of you were younger. Harin only stared at you blankly. You can’t seem to read what her thoughts are, so you decided to break the awkward silence.

“So, is Mrs. Baek really asking for me?” You asked.

“No, it’s my last resort,” she confessed, “I can’t seem to get you all alone for myself, why are you avoiding me?” Harin asked you as she caressed your face.

You avoided her gaze, “It’s because… I’m scared that I have feelings for you, more than friends.”

There was silence again, when you looked up at her, she looked as if she were in a daze; lost in your beautiness. She was still caressing your face that time. You leaned up and kissed her with all the strength you had. The both of you kissed that you felt like it lasted for hours.

You stopped kissing her because it might lead the both of you to another round, and you still have classes to attend to.

You are fixing yourself, trying to look presentable after Harin fucked you out. Hickeys all over your neck, your hair is tangled mess, your clothes crumpled. Suddenly, Harin hugged you from your back, and you felt the wet spot on her clothes.

“Harin, go change your clothes. It’s disgusting!” You tried to wiggle out of her embrace and then laugh when she kissed your neck.

“It’s your fault, you peed on me!” Harin protested.

Let’s just say she never lived that day down when you squirted and always teased you that you peed on her.

I've read your requests. Sorry if I didn't get to reply, but I'll be working on those soon!

I'll also go back to school tomorrow, so it might take me a while to post again. Sorry!

If you have any requests, dont hesitate to send them^^

#baek harin #jang daah #pyramid game #pyramid game x reader #baek harin x reader #myung jaeun #jang daah x reader

415 notes · View notes

cutielando · 7 months

Note

the last social media au was so cute!! maybe one where george’s gf is a famous romance book author and when they make the relationship public his friends cannot believe posh “arms against the wall 2023 intro package pose” george could be the inspiration for all the smutty scenes his gf is famous for (only if your comfortable of course!)

romance is in her books | g.r.

social media au

my masterlist

Instagram

liked by zendaya, georgerussell63 and 301,584 others

yourusername working on something very special 🌸

view all 50,195 comments

booklover101 YAS BITCHES WE'RE GETTING A NEW BOOK!!!!!

chillypeppers Y/N on her way to releasing yet another banger😮‍💨😮‍💨

zendaya what u cooking bby?😉💞

yourusername something with an extra bit of spice🥵

user1 is nobody else wondering who she's writing the *explicit* scenes about?

user2 lol she most probably has a boyfriend or something

user3 or maybe she's just like any other young woman lmao

lilymhe i'm literally obsessed with the way you write🤤

yourusername thank you baby. i'll let you in on a secret later for this ;)

user4 we all want to be lily right now :((((

landonorris do you ever run out of things to write?

yourusername not really, no

lilyzneimer the book is coming along beautifully ❤️

yourusername thank you honey✨🌸❤️

oscarpiastri did you give her a sneak peek??????????

yourusername ...maybe

oscarpiastri deeply betrayed

georgerussell63 my beautiful girl this comment has been deleted

user5 GEORGE????????

user6 IS GEORGE THE SECRET BOYFRIEND?????

charles_leclerc can't wait to read it

yourusername you’re just like one of the girlies charlie 🌸🌸🌸

user2 the amount of money i spend on her books is so unhealthy but i don’t care. TAKE ALL MY MONEY BABY 😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨

user3 is it a stand-alone or is the new book going to be part of a series?👀

yourusername i’m planning a new series soon, but my next release is going to be a stand-alone 🌸

user4 i love her, she is the sweetest 🥰🥰

iMessage

george 🩵

i might have just fucked up

y/n ❤️

you're hopeless

george 🩵

do you think people saw the comment?

y/n ❤️

judging by the way my phone has been blowing up, i think they have

george 🩵

i'm sorry, my love

y/n ❤️

it's okay, don't worry. now we can mess with the fans for a bit ;)

Twitter

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yourusername “racing hearts” is now yours, my lovelies. this book holds a very dear place in my heart and i hope that it will speak to you like it spoke to me when i first started writing it. thank you to everyone who came to the book signing yesterday, you make my life all that more special ✨❤️🌸💞

view all 98,374 comments

georgerussell63 beautiful book, who were you thinking about when you wrote it?🤔

yourusername you know, just a random Brit

georgerussell63 must be one hell of a guy to get a book of his own

yourusername he really is

zendaya you have outdone yourself once again. reading your books has become a MUST ✨✨✨

yourusername thank you honey 💞💞💞

landonorris you went wild again, didn’t you?

yourusername i might have

landonorris do i even wanna read it?

yourusername honestly? probably not

lilyzneimer it’s even better than what i thought 💞

yourusername i always have a trick or two up my sleeve 😉🌸

charles_leclerc someone should censor you

yourusername where would be the fun in that?

charles_leclerc how does your manager approve of this?

yourmanager i’m one of the girlies 🌸

charles_leclerc that explains it

booklover101 THE WAY I SCREAMED WHILE READING IT HAS ME INSANE

booklover101 YOU DESERVE EVERY AWARD IN THE WHOLE WORLD

chillypepper i have no words. i said it before and i’ll say it again. she is the best author of her generation

user1 never beating the dating allegations now

user2 she literally named her main character RUSSELL, HOW DO PEOPLE STILL THINK HER AND GEORGE AREN’T DATING??????

user3 George is the luckiest man in the world😭😭

user4 he must really rock your world if those scenes are anything like the real thing

yourusername you have no idea 🤭

mercedesamgf1 I couldn't put it down. Amazing work, Y/N!!

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loganlermanstanaccount · 1 year

Text

Rigor Mortis (part 4)

College roommate!Miguel O'Hara x reader

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

Part 3, Part 5

summary: You get your laptop fixed... eventually.

warnings: smut!! (finally lmfao) masturbation, mutual masturbation, tiny bit of voyeurism, recreational drug use, dry humping, etc 18+ Minors DNI

a/n: caught up to where the og oneshot ends so i wanted to switch it up!!

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

Join my taglists here

wc: 6.8k (still in shock i wrote all this lmfao, i'm strictly a <4k words kinda gal)

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

lips black and blue and gold.

You're frustrated. Bouncing off the walls, head spinning; and it's for a couple of reasons.

First off: you haven't managed to find a laptop. Money you've worked damn hard for, and you can't really afford a new one. With moving around, you've burnt through quite a bit of your emergency fund. Enough to convince yourself you'll be just fine with a pen and paper in class, and the Google docs on your phone when desperate. It might actually force you to go to the library instead of half assing assignments the night before, you think.

And there's your lab book, which you were smart enough to back up on your computer, but guess what? That's fucked; probably taken apart and sold for scraps by Miguel's mysterious friend , who you've conveniently never even heard of and–

"Just ask for an extension." He says, feet up on the sofa. Oddly enough, you've been doing that more often; spending time together. He's not holed up in his room as much, and spends time studying on the dining table, or pretending not to watch the soaps you've got on TV.

"You're overthinking it. Explain the situation, chula, and it'll be fine." He doesn't even look up, just throws the statement in your direction like the lazy pass of a ball.

You scoff, because he's right, and go back to overthinking. You think you can copy out the ruined half of your labbook by hand, and if you beg your OChem teacher for an extra credit project then–

"If I let you use my laptop, will you stop doing that?"

"Doing what?" You frown as he walks over, and reaches to gently pull your hands apart. He turns your palms over, pointing at the raw edges of your fingernails.

" That. " Mindlessly, you'd been picking at your fingernails, without even noticing. Looking up at him, he rolls his eyes.

"...is that a yes?" You nod, hesitant, and catch the hint of a smile as he pads off to his room.

When he returns, open laptop in hand, he thrusts it into your arms - and sits himself back onto the sofa. This time, he splays out facing you, avocado socks resting on your knee. You fight the urge to push him off, a small price to pay in return for his moment of kindness. He's been doing that more often now, slightly more touchy and maybe even… comfortable around you. Eyes flickering up towards him, you catch his. His brows knead together, and you return your attention to the screen just as quickly.

You're going through the motions, more or less, logging into your college's portal and drafting up quick emails to send to your lecturers. But it's when you open up a new tab, that you see something at the top of the screen and pause. Mouse hovering over an incognito tab, hidden in a nest of referencing websites and scientific journals; it's there. Bold letters, in all caps: WOMAN POUNDED BY BIG BEEFY–

You shouldn't. You really, really shouldn't. Once again, you look up at Miguel, and he couldn't care less; tapping away at his phone, only stopping to look at the TV. Nevertheless, you shift to hide the laptop screen from him. But you're not going to look, or anything. You know better than to take a look at your roommates porn habits, the stuff he drools over whilst he fucks his fist; a big, dextrous palm wrapped around his shaft.

You've done it. Clicked on the tab and nothing's exploded, as of yet. You turn down the brightness, with some shame, as if to make the paused video less explicit. But the image stays, a woman folded under the weight of the man above – in the middle of bullying his fat cock into her pussy. It's amateur; hot and sweaty and sticky, with only the woman fully visible. You suppose your curiosity's been sated, but you can't help but think…

…the woman. She looks like you.

Tilting your head, you can't help but see the resemblance. Not the exact same of course - but her hair is similar, body type, skin tone, eyes. It's not close enough to be weird, you guess, but it's enough that that thought stays - burrows into you like an earthworm into an apple. Scrolling down, you see other videos, with the same woman, other women that look like you - the telltale red bar of watched videos. Evidence, but not really, and it makes you heat up. Your mouth goes dry, and you look over to him: only able to concentrate on the hand he's got spread out at his belly, the brown flesh peeking out - and how it looks just like the one on the base of the woman's stomach in the video.

"...everything ok?" He's looking at you, suddenly; and you attempt to click over to your original tab, discreetly.

He doesn't seem to notice, padding over to your side and leaning into your shoulder.

"Yeah, no, I just…" All you can manage is a nervous smile. "The screen froze, so…"

"Oh." He gives the track pad a swipe. "Seems fine to m–"

He freezes up slightly, and you watch as his eyes flick up the screen. The laptop is eased out of your hands, and he gives a few quick clicks. By the time it's back in your lap, the offending tab is gone. Imperceptible, his jaw shifts.

"...Should be okay now."

You hum, a little amused at the display. He's seemingly unfazed, his little slip up notwithstanding, and leans back to lie up against you. Obnoxious, he splays onto the sofa cushions, his weight practically smothering you as you fight to push him off. You think he likes it – it's the only possible explanation – and gets off from watching you squirm. He seems desperate for a reaction, a child pushing boundaries and pressing buttons to see what exactly makes you tick.

And that's the second thing: it works . He's more touchy, and just as insufferable – jumping at any excuse to be near you, it seems. Miguel has a tendency to hover, follow you around the apartment as you talk aimlessly, and you do the same. You sit by against the doorway to the kitchen whilst he makes dinner; he floats around the door to your room when you try to study. In fact, you've spoken to your roommate more in the past week than you have in the past month; about anything and everything. Sometimes, he actually tells you where he goes during the day; off to lectures of his own, another tutoring session or his basically-an-unpaid-job of an internship. In your words, it seems like with the shit they make him do at Alchemex, he may as well be a full employee: with way fewer perks and a distinct paycut. It's almost as if they're paying for my degree, he says with an eye roll, practically hanging off your door frame.

He does that a lot, now: arms drawn upwards to lean from the oak trim. Especially during lazy mornings in - he'll hang on the frame, and move to tug at your heel, waking you up despite fervent protest. Ultimately, it's a kindness and you don't know how to tell him how much you appreciate it; as he wakes you up on time to get to the library in good stead. You're still waiting on that laptop, debating whether or not to bite the bullet; but for now Miguel obliges, letting you borrow his now and then.

He's not nice, you think his tongue is much too sharp for that; but he is kind, giving you some grace you're not too sure you deserve. It's more than what you've been given in a relationship of 4 years, and you don't know how to feel about it.

Well, you do. Your talk on the living room floor not so long ago flipped a switch and all of a sudden you're paying attention to your roommate; really, really looking at him. He is very, very pretty; with a tendency for lingering touches disguised as something else. And you're out of practice: horny, frustrated, stressed. With the way he touches you; a hand on your back to greet you, a squeeze of your shoulder to tease, bare legs across yours on the sofa; it's a lethal combo.

And here you are, headphones on, prepping to take a dildo. Incredibly self-indulgent, but you need it . You don't quite have the emotional stability for a one night stand (you think if someone touches you just right, you'll fall in love), but this dry spell has taken its toll.

It wasn't just after the break up, either. Mismatched libidos had felt like a steady death knoll. Realistically, you knew Jaime was always too tired after a placement, but it didn't make you feel wanted. You just want to be desirable and fucked within an inch of your life – was that too much to ask?

As a result, your toy drawer had grown: vibrators and dildos, clit-suckers and g-spot strokers; crude once said aloud, but all in search of something. With the stress of school and Miguel, Schrodinger's slut ; it's a wonder you haven't cracked it open earlier.

You're on the floor, its purple base suctioned to the hardwood and towels to cushion your knees. Lower half completely exposed, it's an art , porn on your phone to complete the visage. The screen is smaller than that of the laptop you're used to, only providing some stimulation. And so, as you sink down on its silicone length, you can't help but think back to the sofa - and the videos squirrelled away on an incognito tab. Miguel, hunched over and fisting his cock to someone that looks like you; maybe even thinking of you – although the jury's still out, on that one.

But you keep it close to your chest, rub your clit to the thought of it: you're his type, and maybe he'd fuck into you like the man on your screen. Broad, gorgeous shoulders and you wonder how pretty he'd look with scratches littered down his back, or hickeys sucked into skin: lips plump and messy and swollen.

"Oh, fuck," You say it under your breath, knowing that whilst Miguel is out of the house, it still feels odd to put your lips around the pleasure that thinking of him gives.

You speed up, the slap of thighs ringing out into your bedroom. The dildo is around 6 inches, sizeable; but you can't help but wonder how it compares to Miguel's. He might even be bigger; thicker, most definitely; and you bet his cock is just as pretty as he is. Oh fuck, and he'd tease; press into your hole just to snatch it away at the last second, rubbing persistent circles at your clit. You hear his voice in your head, the low grunts and groans you've memorised from all those nights he's spent with other girls.

"Miguel," You're moaning shamelessly now. "...f-fuck, please–"

There must be something electric in the way he fucks: with the litany of girls in and out of his bedroom, what keeps them coming back? He must talk them through it, whispering filth with his plush lips against their ear, and you wonder what he'd say to you. God , you'd give anything to hear it him say, just once, how beautiful he thinks you are; for him to wrap his hand around your neck and pull you close. You want him to fuck you; hard and deep and desperate.

With that, your pace quickens and you gush around the toy. A spasm of limbs, and you're clamping down on the silicone – an orgasm that leaves you breathless and heaving. You convince yourself it's the taboo of it: fucking yourself to the thought of your roommate, after listening to his grunts and groans for the past couple weeks. He started it … thin walls, and all that.

You ignore the want that lays stubborn at the pit of your stomach, riding through stuttering spasms as your orgasm winds down. You're touch starved, that's all, and Miguel's the closest warm body to latch onto. Nothing more, nothing less. Groaning, you shift, picking up your hips to gear up for another round. Just once more, so you know for sure.

Thin walls. The sound leaks into your roommate's bedroom. But with your headphones on, you can't hear the sounds that echo back: Miguel O'Hara, back home early, with an ear pressed to the wall and desperately pumping his cock.

~~~

"I'm not completely convinced, to be honest." You're in Miguel's car, tongue sticking out as you fiddle around with the dials.

His gaze flicks over, and bats your paws off the dashboard. Flopping into your seat, you watch as he turns up the AC and switches the radio, as if reading your mind.

"You really think I'd go through all this trouble?" He scoffs. "Bundle your ass out of the house and drive all the way here to…. do what exactly?"

"Assert dominance in our shared ecosystem." You say it with finality, and he scrunches up his face in confusion.

"...what does that even mean?"

"Like in that nature doc you were watching the other day."

"Well, the point was that spiders aren't hierarchical in the traditional sense. They form colonies that are… quasi-social, if anything, and–" He pauses. "Wait. You were paying attention?"

You shrug. "I thought it was interesting."

"Seriously?"

"...no, not really."

You laugh as he pulls over to park, in a space next to what looks like an apartment complex. It looks way nicer than your place, with sandy brick and hedges that look well kept. Your laughter peters off. Miguel looks decidedly not amused.

He opens the car door and clambers out as you scramble for the seatbelt. To your surprise, he opens the door for you; stretching out a hand for stability as you get out. When you both walk over to the intercom, your palm burns with his touch, and flexes with the memory of it. It's becoming a problem, his hands. You push down the beginnings of a hazy daydream. He presses a panel, waiting for the buzz.

"Lyla? Could you let us up?"

He waves demurely to the camera, and the receiver clicks. A cheery voice rings back.

"...Us? Who's us, Miggy? Did you finally find a girl that puts up with your shit?" Her voice is singsong, teasing. With a smile, you watch as Miguel bristles, speaking into the slick panel.

"My roommate, Jesus, Ly–" He says the next bit a little rushed, turning away slightly as if you still can't hear her loud and clear. "I thought we went through this, you can't keep trying to embarassmeeverytimeI–"

She talks over him towards the end, rapid-fire banter that you can barely make out.

"You never come and visit, except when it's 2am and you need to break into–"

"Once! It was one time! Déjate, ya está bueno ya–"

[Let it go, that's enough now–]

"Let it go? No, no, absolutely not… what is it that you always say? It's the principle –"

"Can you just fucking open the–"

"What's the magic word?"

He sighs, mouthing an apology to you. "Lyla–"

"Magic. Word."

He mumbles. "Please."

"Please what?"

"Please could you open the fucking door."

There's a pause, and rustling over the intercom. The door buzzes open.

In the elevator up, you keep quiet, trying your hardest not to burst out laughing. Miguel is visibly brooding; arms crossed and brow furrowed.

"Don't." He says, with a pout you almost think is cute. Almost.

"I'm trying really, really hard not to." You put your hands up, as if to surrender. "... Miggy."

"Fuck off." And then, a little softer.

"...I told you I have friends."

~~~

You leave it at that until you're in Lyla'a apartment, when she opens and ushers you in. She looks exactly the way she sounds: pretty, mousy features, with her hair in short, choppy layers. She's bundled up into a plush white robe; heart-shaped sunglasses sliding down the tip of her nose.

Miguel breezes past her, towards the murmuring voices you can just about make out in the front room.

"Lovely to see you too, Miguel." It's under her breath, but when she turns towards you there's a twinkle in her eye.

You introduce yourself, and she pulls you into a tight hug.

"I know," She says. It's ominous, but her voice is light and airy. When you separate, she flashes a wide smile. "Lyla. It's nice to put a face to a name."

"Uhh, sorry. What?" She ushers you further into her apartment as you speak, confused.

"Oh, Miggy talks about you all the time. Complaining , mostly, but in that way he gets when he's trying really, really hard to pretend he doesn't care. Like, he texted me yesterday and–"

"Thaaat's enough." You feel hands on your shoulders, and all of a sudden, Miguel is steering you away from her grip. You stumble into her living room, so bright and airy your eyes have to adjust to the light that floods in. Looking around, her apartment is gorgeous; a spacious open plan, floor-to-ceiling windows with a prime view, and lush furniture. Everything about it screams expensive – especially in comparison to your paltry place. Maybe the shock is visible on your face, but you're in awe. She can't be much older than Miguel, right? She looks about the same age, mid-twenties, not too far-removed from college… and it isn't quite adding up.

"How can she afford this? That's what you're thinking." There's a voice on the sofa that makes you blink. A young man with messy brown hair, a set jaw and 5 o'clock shadow calls out to you in between mouthfuls of pizza. "Lyla's… mmhgh… suuper fuckin' rich… mmfgh… that's how."

It's then that you notice there are other people here, sprawled out on the sofa set; boxes of takeout on the side tables next to them. Of course Lyla's rich: only 20-somethings with money to spare have matching sofas.

She's like Beetlejuice, or the Candyman, and pops up next to you when her name's said.

"I work in tech! With a cute little job on Wall Street, and a part-time one white hat hacking." She clarifies. " Ethical hacking."

She giggles like she's told a joke somewhere, and you nod – still not quite understanding.

"...and some side gigs that aren't as ethical." A blond haired man next to Mouthful-Of-Pizza pipes up. "When are you going to introduce us, Miguel?"

He's grumbling in the kitchen area, digging through the shelves for something. He returns with a bag of chips and dip in a container, flopping onto the zebra print throw pillows. Distracted, he waves a hand around the group noncommittally.

"Uhh, Peter, Ben, Lyla." He gestures to you, saying your name, and then to himself; tearing open the bag at the same time. "-and Miguel. All done"

"My turn for questions, now," Miguel says, pointing at Lyla, looking at the boys to his side. "Is she…?"

"...super high? Most definitely." Lyla giggles at Ben's words, for good measure.

"...right. Peter Parker, nice to meet you." He throws a thumb to the back of the sofa, where you notice a little mop of red curls peeking out. "And this is my little Mayday."

Peals of laughter erupt from behind him, and you notice grubby hands with a death grip to the cushion rest. Miguel leaps up, rushing to her side to help her up its back.

"Ayyy dios mio." He scoops her up carefully, "Buenas, Arañita."

Mayday is on his lap now, a little toddler of about 1 or 2, snaking herself around to hug Miguel's chest. She is certifiably the cutest thing you've ever seen: gap-toothed and giggly, with a smatter of freckles like someone's flicked a paintbrush across her nose. And with the way Miguel melts, you can die happy, knowing that you've seen the impossible: Miguel O'Hara, cooing and fussing over the little girl.

"Arañita?" You ask, to no one in particular.

"Itsy-bitsy spider." . ..is the sing-song, choral response from everyone but Miguel. They're mimicking his tone of voice, and he raises his head from May, looking around.

"I don't sound- "

"You do, dude." Peter sighs, tickling the little red head on the tummy; smiling as she collapses into bright laughter. "I don't have a nickname, and I've known you waaay longer than she has."

Miguel covers her tiny little ears, and says, "Eres un pendejo, Parker . "

[you're a dipshit, Parker]

The scraggly man sticks his tongue out in response, and May pulls at his hair for good measure. He yelps, and Miguel passes her over to her Dad. The scene is funny, for sure, but you feel it's warmth more than anything. God, you can tell they've loved and laughed with each other for years; the kind of friendship you'd kill to have.

"We just need whatever's left of her laptop, Lyla," He's blunt, batting away long forgotten chips and dip. "...and then we'll get going. Wish I could stay longer, Arañita, but I've got some work to finish off."

May makes grabby hands at him, and you melt. Who knows how Miguel can stay strong in the face of her big, round eyes.

He gets up to stand next to you, arms crossed. The height difference is stark: his tall, solid frame towering over everyone else. It seems like an intimidation tactic, but you know him just well enough to tell: he's trying not to be swayed by puppy eyes and promises of food.

"You just got here, Miggy." Lyla sighs. "We're going over prep for Jess', and we'll be two minutes, I swear."

"Oh?" His eyebrows light up. "I knew it! You were being evasive on the group chat, and Pete wasn't returning my calls…"

Huffing, he clasps his hand around yours, ready to storm out. "This is an ambush. A goddamn setup!"

"Wait, Miguel, I need my-"

"I'll pick it up later for you, okay?" It's said like an aside, so soft only you can hear it. With his hand around yours, it certainly feels more intimate than it should. And it seems like he realises a little too late, dropping your hand as your faces are mere inches away.

"Um, we should… we should go."

You look past him to the faces blinking at you guys, on the sofa. A pause, and then you're gulping down stubborn feelings to ask a question.

"Jess' ? Is there a party, or something?"

Lyla nods. "Yeah, and Miguel's meant to be picking up cake."

The man in question pinches his nose. "I can pick up the cake just fine. It's the whole… going to a party bit I'm not too keen on."

"Come onnn, you know Jess would love it."

"She'd love to blackmail me with some dumb shit I did drunk, that's for sure."

"It's her birthday, hardass ." Peter whispers that last bit, covering little May's ears like before. "She can have a little blackmail, as a treat."

"You're gonna say no to a surprise party ?" Ben echoes, shaking his head dramatically.

"A surprise birthday?" You light up. "Miguel, you have to go."

His stony demeanor cracks, for a moment. You latch onto it, hellbent on wearing him down. He's always got his laptop out doing work, or cracking open a little notebook to prep a lab. When he's not at home, he's at that internship, or tutoring, or planning a tutoring session. Work, work, work; and you'll be dammed if you let him rot away in a little cage of his own machinations.

"Come on, Miggy." You watch him bristle, prying at that little crack in the surface. This has to be done with finesse: present a challenge, and watch him scramble to prove you wrong. "You're telling me a couple of hours at a party's too much for you? That's it? "

"That's not–"

"S'what it sounds like to me." You shrug, a little smile on your face. The aim is to look as smug as possible; and it seems to be working.

His jaw shifts, annoyed. Lyla catches on, giving you a crazed smile.

"Even your roommate's gonna come." She says, an arm linked in yours.

"I am?" She gives you a little dig, and you're spluttering. "Y-Yeah, I am!"

You can see him fight with his own ego; but it's a one-sided affair.

"Fine. " He strains. "Two hours, max. And then I'm gone."

Lyla gives you a squeeze, and then wraps you both up in a hug he desperately tries to fight off. Ben slots around you guys, and Peter's last to join, with Mayday squealing on his shoulders.

Eventually, you get what's left of your laptop: a little thumb drive with as much as Lyla could save. You'd thanked her profusely, of course; trying to slither out of her vice grip of a hug, as best you could. She's absolutely batshit, the good kind; cryptic, and strange, but with a lot of heart. She makes you wonder, and they all do; just how did they become friends with Miguel? How do they fit?

The man himself seems a little different, as if reinvigorated by being around friends. In fact, you catch him smiling to himself on the drive home. It's sweet; to see a different side of him around people he's clearly comfortable with. If only for a little while, he sheds the heavy weight he seems to carry around.

Around the house, you notice he seems lighter – humming to himself whilst cooking dinner. That very day, you watch the little sway of hips as he stirs a pot; headphones in, singing under his breath. He can't sing for shit, of course, and he'd kill you if you ever uttered a word; but it's a sight you commit to memory, not knowing when next he'll be in such a good mood.

There's still the question of a new laptop in the air, but you feel more settled by the events of the day. You're a little less fucked school-wise, you've got a party to look forward to, and potentially a drunk Miguel to make fun of. He goes to bed early; and you can hear the quiet drone of a podcast from the other side of the wall. He drifts off to the sweet, dulcet tones of Top Ten Genetic Precursors for Early Onset Dementia; one of his favourites, you've determined.

All is well, for now. A tentative truce, and maybe, just maybe: you're finally friends with your roommate.

~~~

There's something about dramatic irony that seems to smack you across the face, every time.

You've come to somewhat of a understanding with your prickly roommate, and the stream of women in his bed seem to slow down, for a bit. He's hot, he's a whore; but he's sweet, with an eye for detail. He can read you with a scary amount of accuracy. Antsy and hungry from a long day? He leaves you scratching your head at his clairvoyance when you come home, chucking you a hot water bottle and a warm meal. You go to bed with a full belly, cramps abated.

He's still a prick, of course. Sarcastic comments, and a massive grump – but you've learnt to deal with that. Just a couple of days after a seemingly settled week; what you can't wrap your head around is the pounding music from next door, at fuck-off-o'clock . He shouldn't be awake, let alone interrupting your late night study session.

You're pissed, leaping from your desk to pound at his door. You're thudding towards his room, ready to deliver a well-deserved verbal lashing, and the door just… swings open. Empty; there's a window ajar and music pumping from speakers. Bachata and cheesy 90s R&B; which sounds suspiciously like his sex playlist.

Yes, he has a sex playlist. And it really has no business to sound as good as it does.

Nevertheless, you're resolute. If he's managed to sneak someone, at this hour, you decide he's going to get more than a stern talking to.

There's clattering in the kitchen, and you whip around; half-expecting the giggle of another girl. When you walk in, it's just Miguel, rummaging through cupboards: a half-naked thief in the night.

"Miguel?"

He pops his head up from a cabinet, with a half-eaten piece of bread in his mouth. Caught red-handed, you suppose; and he gives you a little smile.

"S'everyfin' – mmmfggh –" He scarfs the rest of it down. "Everything okay?"

You squint. "No. Not really."

He chuckles, a slight rasp at the edges of his voice. Dickhead – what exactly is so funny?

"You can't have your music so fucking loud, not when I'm studying. It's the middle of the night and–"

Dressed in nothing but a pair of gray sweats, he's busying himself with a sandwich on the counter; clattering around noisily like he doesn't have full control of his limbs. Which is…. weird, admittedly. You'd trust Miguel to slice a grape with a machete – his dexterity is usually unmatched. Not that you'd made a habit of staring at his hands, or anything.

"Are you even listening to me?"

He nods, attempting to keep a straight face, but the faux solemnity does nothing to hide that droop of eyelids and slump of his shoulders. You get closer, pushing him to face you properly.

"Oh, fuck," His eyes are a little red, hair messy and windswept. "Are you… high? "

Miguel O'Hara? High? You'd never thought you'd live to see the day, honestly. His eyes go wide, dropping his sandwich dramatically. And then he's got a big hand at your shoulder, pulling you closer with a finger pressed to his lips.

"Shhh! You can't-" Now, he gets close, whispering your name like he's saying something he shouldn't. "You can't tell anyone."

With the way he says your name it makes you light-headed. It's slow and careful, as if he's testing the way it feels spilling from his lips. And maybe, with the way he smiles, it feels good; tastes sweet wrapped around his tongue.

"I won't." You breathe, and then you're both giggling.

There's something about the way he looks at you, peering under heavy lashes; basically eye-fucking you in the space of your tiny kitchen. You feel bare in a little t-shirt and sleep shorts; suddenly exposed.

"You should…" He starts, cocking his head ever so slightly. "Join me, chula. "

It's soft; sinful, even; said as he coaxes you between his body and the kitchen counter.

You don't trust your voice enough to answer, legs already shaky, so you nod. Slight, at first; and then with a little more gusto as the idea of him and you on his sheets – intimate, alone – creeps in. He stretches out a hand, and you take it; led to his bedroom like a scene you've seen before. All those girls before you; led to the dragon's lair like damsels in a fairytale. Except in this one, you suppose, you're not waiting for a knight in shining armour to save you.

He sits you down on the bed, passing you a freshly rolled blunt. Passing it to your lips , more specifically; hand on your chin as he brings the lighter up to its end. Even prettier up close, all you can do is watch the press of plump lips, and pink tongue sticking out as he concentrates. As he leans in, there's a hand on your bare thigh. You inhale, deeply, and he hums with content.

"Good girl," He purrs, prying it from your lips to take a slow drag.

"You're a bad influence." You murmur, watching as his eyes flutter shut.

"You need to relax," He leans back, arm drawn lazily upwards. "This is helping."

"That's not–" Oh. You feel it now, a steady haze rolling over limbs.

Miguel quirks up an eyebrow, amused.

You repeat, slowly, "You're a bad influence ."

"Does it feel good?" You pause, trying to ignore his low tone; and the steady blaze that it ignites within you. Dragging your eyes to meet his, you see it: want, lust, something heavy that swirls behind them.

You nod, itching for another pull. As if psychic, he gestures for you to come closer; and your lips almost slot against his. He exhales, and you inhale; in the closest thing you've come to a kiss in months. It makes you ache for just a little more contact, for those pretty hands to slot between your thighs and–

"Is this all I need to do for some quiet around here?" He asks, lilting. If only he'd stop talking; interrupting your fantasy with that stupid grin of his.

You're shaking your head, laughing at the sheer gall .

"You're fucking someone new every week, O'Hara. Loud. Who was it the other day? Cathy, Kayla –"

"Sita, actually." He has a strange expression on his face. "And we didn't fuck. Just going over lecture notes."

"Sorry . Must have gotten mixed up with the half-dozen other girls in and out of here. Our apartment's not a brothel , Miggy."

He rolls his eyes, handing you the remnants of the blunt.

"...s'not my fault there isn't anyone fucking you right."

You scoff. "How would you know?"

"Thin walls. " It's cryptic. What the fuck does that mean?

You take a careful drag, and hand the blunt back – trying your hardest not to strangle him. It must show on your face as you tussle with the thought, because Miguel is staring; unabashedly, unashamedly. When you notice, it throws you off.

"... what?" Ready to defend yourself, you huff.

He shrugs. His expression is soft, reminding you of that night, not long ago.

"You look like a painting."

You practically short circuit. You've been complimented before, of course. Hot, by men trying to get into your pants. Pretty, sometimes. Beautiful, the other times. Whether it's been sincere, you don't know – but you're smart enough to not overthink it. It's hard enough to live a life, as it is; and you'd rather not be bogged down by what others think, how you look whilst doing it. And yet, you feel your body betray you; a steady bloom of heat at your heart, like you've been stabbed. So deep, it spreads like blood on the front of a blouse. Like a painting, he says. And you like the way he says it; how it sounds spilling from his lips.

Its implication sits heavy. Like a painting : hand-crafted, silken, soft –

He blinks, the crack of a smile on his face. And it ends in a fit of giggling, if you can even call it that.

"Stop fucking with me." You grumble, and he thinks the way your face scrunches up with disdain is cute. There's probably an implication there he should unpack in therapy – how he likes it when you shout and put him in his place – but he's much too high to care.

"M'not-" He quiets down, flattens his face into something resembling sobriety and gravitas. He gets a little closer, so close you can feel the heat of his body and flutter of lashes. With wide, dilated pupils, he stills - and it really doesn't help that he looks so pretty.

"Can't stop thinking about you, hermosa." His voice is low, slurred with the weight of the blunt he's taken careful drags of. Every word makes you feel hazy, drawn in by his lips. " Fuck, all the time."

"Hear your laugh in my dreams, sometimes." He circles your bare thigh carefully, without breaking eye contact. With a thumb on your chin, he brings you closer, and closer still. Gently, you close your eyes, expecting the press of his lips against yours…

…instead, you get a puff of smoke for your troubles. Reeling, you push him away. He collapses on the bed in a laughing fit.

"... now I'm fucking with you." Rumbling laughter, and you've got the wherewithal to be embarrassed – hand still resting on his bare chest.

A little cruelly, you push down, giving him an elbow to the ribs for good measure and he splutters with surprise – laughing all the same.

"Asshole." You slur, and he grabs your arm to pull you onto the covers with him. You paw at him wildly, wrestling amongst the table of sheets. It's not a fair fight, not really; the wide expanse of his bare chest feels solid, and he's probably got more muscle in his pinky toe than you do in your whole body. Miguel is strong , but plays along regardless, pinning you to the bed with his hands around your wrists - but lets you turn him over just as quick. You're both laughing, the blunt long forgotten but its haze blurring the lines. You straddle his middle, hips flush against his and he keens; head back and cheeks flushed.

"Fuck," It's quiet, said as he writhes below you and you try to pin his hands above his head. Maybe it's the weed, but he lets you: eyes low, breath steady. And you stay like that, for a moment; bodies laid against one another.

You don't know who starts it: the slow roll of hips, the swell of his cock bucking up against your heat. Regardless, you welcome it, letting the heat build up with the pressure at your clit. Your hips sway and all Miguel can do is watch.

Lips parted, head back; and you set a steady rhythm that washes over you both.

Humping against one another, you get more desperate and drag your hands to his chest for purchase. Underneath you, Miguel practically purrs – one hand on your waist and the other clutching yours at his chest.

"So, so pretty…" He sighs into it, wide palm pawing at your ass, shamelessly grabbing handfuls. By now, he's rock hard; and you feel him throb through the thin material of his sweats.

"Fuck, I can't–" You moan, ragged, the roll of your hips gaining speed.

Miguel coos, bringing a hand to your chin to pull you closer to the crook of his neck.

"Too fast, hermosa. S-Slow it down for me." He grips your waist, forcing the pace to slow. Your hips stutter against his, delicious pressure making you cry out. And, God, you're close; pleasure building up at your gut.

"Ohhh, fuck. Just like that, just like–" It's soft, whispered between the press of bodies like a prayer: reverent, intimate, a slew of garbled English and Spanish into the shell of your ear that goes straight to your pussy.

"A-Ahi, ahi–"

[t-there, there–]

Plush lips brush against your cheek, and you try so hard to not float away - with only his words to keep you tethered.

"... no pares lo que sea que estes haciendo–ohh-fuck–"

[don't stop what you're doing, oh fuck–]

The coil at the base of your stomach snaps, and you arch into his touch as he does the same. Miguel spills into his sweats, heaving with the effort. He can feel the clench of your pussy above, and he chases it in the aftermath; craning his neck to finally get a kiss. Limbs heavy, you still manage to swerve so his kisses land at your jaw. He's grateful for the contact anyway it comes and sucks careful hickies into the skin: at your neck, your collarbone, and anywhere else he can reach.

You sink into it, curl up on his chest like a housecat; his hands wandering the gentle slope of your back under your shirt.

Limbs heavy, you pry yourself from his hands ever so slightly. He strains to follow you up, snapping back into the sheets like an elastic band. Still, he kneads at your flesh - bare thighs spilling from your shorts.

" Miguel," You whisper, hand travelling past his neck to cradle his jaw. "Need more…"

You punctuate that last word with a roll of your hips. Wanton, conflicted; he groans .

"It's late, chula. " He says it slowly, hesitant – like he can't believe the words are coming out of his mouth. He's still high, lost in the whispy remnants of that blunt. You've never known weed to make someone more responsible, and you flop to his side, a little childishly.

Miguel makes sure to keep a hand wrapped around your waist, dragging his other knuckles up your exposed tummy so that it rides up to the swell of your tits.

"And you've got that 9am."

You cover your face with the span of your hands, grumbling. From between the gaps in your fingers, you repeat,

" ...and I've got that 9am ."

He traces lazy circles in your flesh. Maybe it's the blunt, or the afterglow of an orgasm; but you make him laugh, a gentle ache replacing the creak and shudder of gears.

"Idiot." He says, kissing it into your skin. And he burns from the touch, fleeting; like the warm flame from paper lanterns, or the flicker of a lighter against cool night air.

Miguel taglist (1): @d1lf-loverrr, @afro-hispwriter @ilovemiguelohara @weedxgirlx420 @ladydovahkiin180 @aaliyuh3 @sweetanimebakery @vvitcxen @rosecoloredlenses708 @daikondal @magikmina @impettywhenyouare @alonelygirlsuicidenote @plushyplants @javi0ca @rheeves @starrfruit @nikirikii @marsbars09 @foxglove-grove @mimooyi @crosshairclown @dead-by-light @kynamitedessert @naarra @wanderlustingcastaway @sagejin @cookielovesbook-akie @tangerineloverrr @gobblegluckgluckgod @wolfiepirate @jxxey3 @ebrysteria @elliemm @manchuria @youngghostpeachslime @weasleybuns

@ilovemuppets @vauriz @bonbyon @aimno256 @ancientbeing10 @tvije @venus1224idkpleaze @neteyamsbulletwound @chickenjefferson-blog @maki-z @jasjasthings @aiyaaayei @hyp-oh-critical @tea-earl-grey-thot @sunset-euphoria @moonsio @akiras-key@szaplsdropthealbum@levanneisdumb @naiya-patel17 @Serostapesweat @strawberrymiguel @yumeeesss @errorundyne-exe @spear-bitch @redsoleily @marsissoswag @slezhara @ye4gerzz @adlct515 @nanam1 @indigocookie @cincocosas-blog @starguiders @path0logicalpeoplepleaser@funkyfishy@whoreloll@eugeab@tarjapearce@maddielikesmoths@egotaestical

#miguel o'hara x reader #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara #miguel o hara x reader #kat_writes😼#rigor mortis 😼#spiderman 2099 #miguel o'hara smut #spiderman 2099 x reader #atsv x reader #atsv fic

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isalisewrites · 4 months

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A Deep Dive into JKR's Terrible, Amateur Writing - Part Two

Welcome to my ballsy series where I will prove to you, dear reader, that J.K. Rowling, author of the Harry Potter series and resident Twitter TERF, is actually a very, very poor writer.

And when I say ‘poor writer,’ I’m talking about her prose, her sentence structure, and her scenes. I am not going to discuss anything about the HP world nor the overall plot of the books.

This is all about the nitty gritty in the craft of writing itself.

Part One Link.

Disclaimer for all readers of this series:

I’m going to sound very confident in my posts where I work under the assumption I’m a better writer than JKR; because I am. My apologies if this rubs you the wrong way. You’re simply witnessing the culmination of over two and half decades of experience with the intensity from a neurodivergent who is hyperfocused on her special interest. I didn’t just learn how to create stories; I learned the craft of writing to a minutia of details.

I’m not a perfect writer. No one is. I’m not a talented writer either. I’m experienced and skilled through years of study and practice.

I don’t care about J.K. Rowling. At all.

If you’re triggered by the concept and fact that JKR is a terrible crafter of writing, then you might want to take a step back and self reflect on that personal issue.

I still very much love and adore Harry Potter; you’re still allowed to love Harry Potter.

This is not a series to bitch or bash. This isn’t a shitpost. This isn’t an attack on JKR, no matter the disgusting bullshit she spews forth on Twitter. However, my hope is people awaken to the fact that JKR isn’t the goddess of writing we’ve all been led to believe.

This is a place of study and learning, where the purpose is to help students gain critical thinking skills and writing analysis tools to become better in their craft.

And, sorry, one more disclaimer for this specific post:

Fanfiction is written for fun and is posted for free. I put most of my effort into my main fanfic, Terrible, But Great. (Yes, I intend to update Moon Rite soon, too) However, I also have two fanfics that are cowritten with another author; thus, the style of Shall I Stay and Badger Prey are understandably different. I spend three to four times the hours to edit a chapter versus drafting it. My process for fanfiction: I draft. I do one expansion edit. I do one proofread edit. I post.

However, if I were to publish a novel where people are expected to drop money on said book, my work flow would be vastly more extensive. To be clear, I’d do all of the following myself. I would not outsource. My process for published novels: I would draft. I would do three to four expansion edits. I would do two to three cutting edits. I would do three proofread edits.

See the difference?

Because I don’t go through a cutting edit for my fanfiction, I’ll often come back later and see things I think are weak. I’m constantly seeing where I can tighten my work. There’s always room for improvement.

Remember: Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix is a paperback book that costs $10. My fanfics are free. If I, someone who writes for free and puts what she considers the bare minimum of effort into them, have a higher standard in the quality of my writing than a paid traditionally published novelist, there’s a problem here.

All right, with that nonsense out of the way, buckle up, my writing friends. Grab a snack. Hydrate. Remember to take what resonates and leave what doesn’t. Let’s begin.

Class is in session.

In this post, we’re going to discuss these five pages from HP5 and dissect one paragraph and a line from page 731. All dialogue is highlighted in blue.

(My favorite book in the series, btw. I fucking love fifth year the most. JKR did a damn good job with Umbridge.)

Since a certain anon lacked the skill to comprehend the difference between too much dialogue and stories driven by a high saturation of dialogue, let's go into further depth about dialogue.

What did I mean last week when I said: "Too much fucking dialogue!"

Today’s lesson will focus on the overall issue in JKR’s dialogue and in the prose surrounding those dialogue lines.

And since, apparently, I “lack the self awareness” to know most of my fics are “oversaturated with dialogue,” I’m going to use weaker examples of my own writing. Chapter 24 of TBG is heavily driven by dialogue with twenty-one named characters to juggle, something that's very difficult for me to manage. Though the chapter is lovely, I do feel it's some of my weaker work. In the end, I just didn’t have the energy to edit it a second time nor go through cutting edit.

Here are three different pages (some connected, some not) from Chapter 24 of Terrible, But Great. All dialogue is highlighted in blue.

You can already see the difference, I'm sure.

So, what’s the difference between a scene that has 'too much fucking dialogue' versus a scene that is highly saturated with dialogue?

Because there is one.

Let's set the scene for HP5. In the middle of an OWL exam, Harry received a vision from Voldemort, showing him that Sirius has been captured. He's being tortured to get something from a shelf, but Sirius refuses. Harry believes the vision is real. He tells Ron and Hermione, then asks for their advice on how to rescue Sirius. Ron and Hermione are both like, pardon, wtf, sir? (As they should be.)

We have five pages of this fight between them. These five pages are mostly dialogue with very little else surrounding it.

Also, note the final page where it has the worst sins of adverb usage. That page is what triggered me to begin writing this series in the first place, btw.

There's too much dialogue here. There's no description. I'm being told stuff, but I'm not being shown anything. There are no emotional anchors to Harry either. The more I reread this scene, the more I realized what was wrong.

There’s an emotional disconnect from Harry in the prose.

Do not misunderstand me: it is NOT to say that Harry isn’t emotional here. It's that the prose doesn’t grip me, the reader, by the chest and twist my heart with his overwhelming emotions. The prose doesn't prove anything, doesn't show me anything. This is an intense, terrifying moment for Harry. It should feel visceral. It should feel tangible. I should be able to taste his fear.

We also don’t get too much information about the emotional states of Ron and Hermione. We have hints, of course. But we can’t feel them. The emotions of the scene are dampened, muffled, dull even.

With an untrained eye, you might disagree. It's okay. You'll see what I mean soon.

Page 731 exact quote:

"I dunno how," said Harry. "But I know exactly where. There's a room in the Department of Mysteries full of shelves covered in these little glass balls, and they're at the end of row ninety-seven...He's trying to use Sirius to get whatever it is he wants from in there....He's torturing him....Says he'll end by killing him..." Harry found his voice shaking, as were his knees. He moved over to a desk and sat down on it, trying to master himself.

(Btw, punctuation issue: you do not use an ellipsis and a period together and there should be a space after the ellipsis.)

This is the only instance in the five pages where we get any information about Harry's physical state.

And it's written in such a weak 'telling' instead of 'showing' way, too.

How and where was his voice shaking? How are his knees shaking? Are they knocking together in a weird way that's kind of physically improbable? Or was it actually his legs were shaking? Isn't he leaning against the door? If his weight was resting against the door, then there'd be less shaking in his knees or legs because his knees would be locked to brace his body against the door. His arms and hands would be shaking, though.

How does Harry master himself? What does that look like? Slow breaths? Running a hand through his hair? Rubbing his face and eyes? How is Harry mastering himself? Is it mentally? Then, where are those mastering thoughts? What are they and why do those thoughts in particular help Harry 'master' himself?

What's Harry's tone as he talking about Voldemort threatening to kill Sirius? How is Harry feeling about this? Give me MORE!

The dialogue is presented to the reader in a bland, empty fashion. Harry is relating something to Ron and Hermione. I could switch the dialogue out with anything and it'd still make sense.

There is little surrounding the dialogue to anchor it.

So, let's rewrite this, shall we?

"I dunno how," said Harry, letting out a shaky breath. His hands clenched into fists against the door of the classroom. "But I know where—they're in a room in the Department of Mysteries that's filled with rows of shelves holding these... weird little glass balls. They're in row ninety-seven. Voldemort, he's—" Harry's voice broke. His breath caught in his throat. The memory of the vision returned full force into his mind, the image of Sirius on the floor at Voldemort's feet stark in his mind. He ducked his chin; his chest inhaled in a desperate breath and the edges of his eyes burned. He's torturing Sirius—I can't just wait around. I can't lose him. Harry looked up at Ron, whose face had grown pale, while Hermione stared at him with wide, terrified eyes. The strength in Harry's legs weakened. "He needs Sirius to get whatever it is he wants and he's—" Harry sucked in a gasp, his voice trembling like an autumn leaf in a thunderstorm. "—he's torturing Sirius... says he'll kill him in the end." His knees buckled. Harry stumbled to the nearest desk; Ron reached out with a steadying hand on Harry's upper arm and silent gratitude filled Harry's heart. With shaky arms, Harry lifted himself onto the desk to sit and twisted around to face Ron and Hermione. He licked his dry lips, rubbed his eyes with a hand, and took slow, deep breaths to master his fraying emotions.

The original canon text has 57 words of dialogue with a total of 83 words.

My rewritten version uses 56 words of dialogue with a total of 247 words.

I'm going to drill this concept into your heads, my lovely students: this is what I mean when I keep saying JKR's writing is both bloated and underwritten.

I only rewrote a single paragraph and its following line. The five pages I've provided are filled with this kind of empty dialogue.

So, what have I done here? Can you see the difference? Can you feel the difference?

Let's analyze what I focused on in this scene to show Harry's body language and his thoughts. I upped the physical effects on Harry's body. His fear causes his voice to break in the middle of explaining what's going on. He's terrified of losing Sirius, the only father figure he's ever known. Voldemort might take another parental figure from him.

And now the prose reflects these feelings, not just in his thoughts, but also in how he speaks and reacts to what is around him. He is not just speaking at the reader.

Harry exists in his world.

And you can feel it.

When he stumbles to the desk, Ron is there for him. Hermione reacting could also be added here. There is a lot that can be added to this scene, if one wanted to expand this further.

Yes, what I've done has increased the word count, yet it strengthens this short moment—and I'd do this for the entire scene.

What I did to the scene is merely one version of its potential. It could be rewritten in a multitude of ways and go in various directions. I spent 10mins to 20mins on it. I haven't edited it or refined it.

Can you finally see what I mean now?

If you compare the highlighted pages of HP5 to the highlighted pages of Chp 24 of TBG, you can visually see the difference in the density of the dialogue. JKR is the one whose writing is oversaturated with dialogue. My writing will always be highly saturated with dialogue because my stories are character driven. I prefer stories like that. But I also need the dialogue to be interesting and engaging, where the character feels alive in their world.

When I say there's too much dialogue, this scene is such a good example of this because Harry, Ron, and Hermione are all over the place in their interactions with each other. Yes, you want your characters to sound realistic, but you're also the author curating an experience for the reader.

There's a balancing tightrope act between having realistic dialogue and unnecessary dialogue.

There's a thin line between showing too much and telling too little.

Lastly, if I were to improve the overall scene, I would center the focus on Harry's desperation to rescue Sirius. As Ron and Hermione try to talk him out of it, where Hermione delivers that iconic line of 'you have a people saving thing,' I'd have Harry explode with something like this:

"You don't know what's it like! You both have your parents—I-I don't... You'd feel the same as me if it were either of your parents being tortured by Voldemort, yeah? I can't lose him—I can't lose Sirius."

I'm not bothering with description around it right now. I just wanted to give the baseline dialogue to show you the theme I'd carry through this scene. It's all about Sirius. It's all about the fear of losing him. It's about showing the emotion of the character and making the reader feel that deeply.

And that's what matters the most.

All right then.

We have come to an end of Part Two in this series. We have discussed fives pages in JKR's Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix. The pages in question are 731 - 735 should you wish to look it up and study the scene yourself.

And so, please do the world the greatest of favors and write better than J.K. Rowling. I promise, it's not that hard once you see the differences.

Until next time.

Isa

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sensei-venus · 1 year

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S1 Robby Keene Liking A Good Girl

(Unedied) (Honestly kinda tame for S1 Robby, Drugs mentioned, Weed Smoking, Drug Dealing, Reader had mentioned anxiety??) ( @gemini-sensei )

😈💕He’s kind shy at first when he realizes he may have a crush on the new girl at school. He sees her in the hallways, in class, at lunch, in the parking lot. He sees her everywhere. It doesn’t help that she is a “good girl” in his book. She’s not rich or stuck up, she’s just too nice in his opinion and doesn’t do anything that he would consider bad. To him he had no chance with her, he definitely didn’t fit in her kind of world.

😈💕It wasn’t until he found out that she had anxiety super bad that his views on her started to change. It was weird how all of it started.

“I uh heard you might have some weed?” She was a little nervous as she corned him in the parking lot outside the school. The bell rang over a hour ago and his friends ditched him not long after. She had come out of no where, clenching the arm of her backpack. He raised a brow at her appearance.

“I have my card if that makes this better, I just don’t have enough money this month to go the dispensary. My insurance won’t cover the amount I need- I kinda wasted half of mine if accident. You don’t want to know.” She nervously giggled. It wasn’t like Robby was going to question her on it. Honestly he didn’t really care either. He looked for the nicest bag he had on him, and secretly he may have given her more then he said. She dished out a good few bucks before wondering off. Robby was quick to count it and noticed that she had given him WAY more then was needed. Before he could even say something she was already gone. He pocketed the extra and tried to not think about it.

😈💕It started to get harder for him to pretend his little daydream crush wasn’t starting to get bigger as the days went on. He started to see her more and more in and out of school. She would give him small waves and smiles, which he gave back in smirks and grins. He hoped he didn’t look like to much of a asshole. But with his friends watching be and to keep his guard up. The boys where already getting supsious of his feelings.

😈💕He really didn’t think she would come back to him for more weed after that month. But she did, asking for the same amount every time. She simply told him that it was cheaper to get it from him then the dispensary. He didn’t know if that was true but he didn’t care. As long as he got to spend a few minutes with her every now and then. She quickly started to warm up to him, no longer acting as nervous or scared around him. Smiling more and even cracking a few jokes which he admitted made him smile. She was just so cute that he couldn’t help it.

😈💕One day he just couldn’t take it anymore and asked her if she wanted to go smoke with him. At first she was little embarrassed but happily accepted his offer. He had no intention of taking her to the little hideout where the other guys liked to smoke. So he decided to take her to his place. His mom had been gone for weeks and even if she did find them in the apartment smoking, she couldn’t say much. Her drinking and pills where enough to throw back her way to get out of a little weed smoking. It was a Saturday when she came over. He tried his best to get the place cleaned up, made sure the light bill was actually paid that month. Showing up at his door with a bag full of junk food and a small giggle on her lips.

😈💕They spent the rest of the day on the couch smoking and watching tv. It was nice, it was nothing like when he smoked with the guys. They where always high and taking shit about anything they could think of. There was no peace and quiet which is what he liked. Just getting high and chilling out for a few hours. Reader seemed to like the same thing as she just sat quietly next to him. Only occasionally laughing and giggling at what they where watching. They both seemed to like watching cartoons while high. The pretty colors and high pitch voices making them laugh.

😈💕It started to grow late but Reader didn’t seem to care. She offered to order a pizza which Robby had no issue with. They ended up eating and smoking more while watching a late night show together. That was when things started to change in the vibe that was going on between them that night.

😈💕 “You ever shotgun before?” It was a smile question. She asked while looking over at him on the couch. Robby didn’t know what to say, he knew what it was but had never actually tried it. She slowly shook his head. Reader giggled saying “Well do you want to try it? You can say no if your don’t want to.” He raised a brow before thinking it over in his head. He could at least give to a try, and he would be doing it with Reader of all people. The girl he had a huge ass crush on. With a small nod Reader smiles and takes a nice drag of the blunt she was smoking. Soon enough her soft hands are cradling his cheeks as she leans over to him. Their lips meet in a soft kiss, her tongue prodding at his bottom lip trying to get him to open up. With just a small amount of energy he finally does. She gently blows a long stream of smoke into his mouth. He can’t help but moan a little as he takes it into his lungs.

😈💕A few seconds later the kiss gets hotter and hotter. He’s grabbing at her soft thighs and belly though her shirt. Her hands move, one cradling his neck and the other on his back. Her fingers dig into the flesh of his shirt covers back. He rolls his shoulders as his tongue works along side hers. Smoke escaping though their lips. He can’t tell who is being louder with their moans. As the minutes pass by he can tell this isn’t the high that’s making them like this so much. Reader is fully invested in this kiss. Robby smirks into the kiss as he starts to realize this must have been her little plan. Offering to help teach him how to shotgun. God she was so smart.

😈💕The rest of the night is spent kissing and cuddling on the couch together. Robby doesn’t even care anymore about school or his friends. If messing with the chubby good girl was so wrong, so be it.

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doodle-pops · 5 months

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Modern AU: Sugar Daddy | My Sugar Daddy Loves Me

Headcanon: Maglor, Finrod, Ecthelion, Thingol, Elrond

Request: Hi Mina I hope you doing well could you please write a part 2 of your sugar daddy au? With Ecthelion, Maglor, Finrod, Elrond and Maeglin - Anon

A/N: Not gonna lie, I had a hard time envisioning Finrod as a sugar daddy since I link those who are Daddy/DILF material as a sugar daddy. He seemed so aloof as a sugar daddy and more like Friends with Benefits lol.

Warnings: a female-focused reader, smut, breeding/creampies

➽ Part 1 | Part 2

➽ Modern AU Series

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ. Maglor

➽ He’s a world-renowned pop star who is beloved by everyone, and you are his lovely darling he met during a backstage meet and greet when he slipped his number into your back pocket and whispered, ‘Call me.’

➽ Of course you called him because that’s how you receive gifts on your doorstep after every performance he has, world tours, or when his albums go platinum. You are the mysterious lover that his fans talk about because of paparazzi.

➽ For the most of your dynamic shared with him, you are kept a secret because, to him, it makes everything more thrilling. All those posts of him on vacation or tours with snips of your hands, legs or back, or the albums being written about you, make everything invigorating.

➽ On the days when he does return from touring, you are showered in affection abundantly. Necklaces and anklets with your name or his name, dozens of roses, lingerie, the latest fashion wear, a lump sum of money floating into your account and some days between the sheets.

➽ Plus, that pretty black credit card in your back pocket feels incredibly heavy with all the financial opportunities it’s allowing you to make. It doesn’t bother him with you swipe his card to make your purchases because he has lots of trust in you (please don’t rob him).

➽ The dynamic between you both differs from the others who would reward you for excelling at your job or studies. With Maglor, he’ll reward you for being silent as he takes you in the recording booth during breaks, support him during his concerts, and when he wins awards.

➽ Apart from dropping all the materialistic gifts on you, Maglor takes him time to worship you from head to toe. You are, after all, the inspiration behind his best-selling albums, and he has inserted your moans as background vocals on some of his songs.

➽ A passion lover you got as a sugar daddy with an oral fixation (best his mouth). He has to show you how talented those lips are; singing isn’t all that he can do with his tongue. Plus, he’s also a guitarist, so let the realisation sink in with those fingers.

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ. Finrod

➽ Right off the bat, his type of sugar daddy isn’t for pleasure purposes and it’s the last reason why he was willing to care for you. He just wants someone to spoil and spend lots of time with because he’s rich and lonely in his mansion.

➽ Being spoilt is something you never have to question because he’s eager to be your sugar daddy even though he doesn’t consider himself as one. He’ll just tell you that he’s a good friend helping another friend out while handing you his unlimited credit card and a bunch of gifts.

➽ The adventurous type to call you up in the middle of the night and TELL you that he already booked you all a flight a trip to a tropical island for two weeks filled with various fun activities. The idea that you have classes or work tomorrow doesn’t sink in until you’re reminding him.

➽ It’s a frequent occurrence with him visiting/calling at early hours to check out new places in the city or for you to come over because his giant house is lonely. At some point, you are living in with him and all the maids have become familiar with you.

➽ If you’re a college student, you are funded, and yes, he does have an interest in your academics. However, he’s a lot more understanding if you fail a course because he’s the reason (making you miss classes with those trips); he might suggest dropping out and letting him permanently care for you because he can also get you a decent job without a degree.

➽ As I mentioned, pleasure isn’t something Finrod is interested in during the agreement. That’s something you would have to initiate one night as you’re relaxing in bed or returning from dinner. Take the lead and make him rethink his agreement to incorporate it often and scrap the ‘friends’ talk.

➽ He isn’t someone who becomes stressed, so if anything, you’re the one who’s getting the rough sex when you’re stressed. He is happy to help because if you’re keeping him company, he has to return the favour with an open mind. And trust me when I say, he’s good at what he does but acts casual as if he didn’t strip away your ability to walk.

➽ At least your time being his sugar baby will be fun and filled with excitement, something that outshines the finances and pleasure he blesses you with. His desire for companionship helps to make the dynamic between you two worthwhile.

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ. Ecthelion

➽ Responsible for marketing some of the most valuable gemstones around the world; mostly invested in the diamond stock market. The first time you met him and stepped into his house, you noticed how much he was obsessed with the gemstone. You don’t complain because it’s what he gifts you whenever you perform well for him.

➽ He covers all your tuition expenses and living commodities and gives you one of his unlimited credit cards to shop for your heart's desires. In return, you must bring home good grades (he’ll tell you what’s good) and keep up your good reputation. He doesn’t want you to ever tarnish your reputation.

➽ Ecthelion is wealthy and educated, so he doesn’t mind getting involved and invested in your field of work or degree program. Depending on what it is, he’ll extend his knowledge, but if he doesn’t know, he’ll make attempts to get you good connections to boost your career.

➽ So long as you maintain your good grades and reputation, you’re in it for life. He’s taking you vacations to tropical islands, opera shows, shopping sprees, buying you the most expensive jewellery sets and clothes. You will be rocking the best designer clothes, Ecthelion isn’t standing for you wearing simple clothes.

➽ Of course, when you perform excellently for him, he will return the favour with more than just trips and money. He established in the beginning that he was seeking companionship during your deal, and as much as he wanted to keep things professional, something about the red lipstick you adore wearing sucked him in.

➽ Perhaps allowing you to give him a blowjob under the table in his office during a quick visit and leaving lipstick smeared all over his cock made him change his mind about keeping things professional. He was pleased when you agreed to make the relationship more intimate than hugs and kisses.

➽ He wastes no time whenever he’s stressed to relieve himself through you (with your consent). You’re his little stress reliever, and in return, Ecthelion doesn’t mind letting you use him to beat your stress. Sex is rough and steamy between you both. You are getting bent over countertops, work desk, pressed against the wall, he’s hungry beneath his professional demeanour.

➽ While he is a formal and sophisticated gentleman, and he would not touch you inappropriately in public, that doesn’t mean he doesn’t purchase you vibrator panties and plugs. You’re sitting beside him during a conference meeting and he’s causally playing with the speed on his phone, making you cum.

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ. Thingol

➽ This sugar daddy is drifting over to the DILF side of things and do not be fooled by his silver hair, he isn’t old, he’s simply trendy and into the latest fashion styles. Giovani, Armani, Dior, Marco Polo, Ralph Lauren and the list goes on. Thingol is an old-money type of sugar daddy, and he adores showing off his wealth to you.

➽ To be honest, Thingol really want to be your sugar daddy because he saw you and liked you. At the time, you were a broke college student or young worker struggling in the business world who used the opportunity he was providing to build your career and status.

➽ Thingol doesn’t care about all that (at first), but he does ensure all your needs and desires are met. Tuitions paid, loans cleared, no negative credit score or empty bank account. You’re the rich student on campus or your job that everyone is jealous of because he makes sure the world knows you’re spoilt by rolling up in some custom Rolls Royce or Bently.

➽ Your unlimited credit cards weigh a ton in your pocket, but who cares because you’re rich and being pampered as you deserve? Of course, nothing in life comes for free and without payment. Thingol might carry some age because he has a fully grown child, but he isn’t old.

➽ He makes it clear that he would enjoy being intimate and seeking companionship in return for the wealth spent on you. Do you decline, of course not (you can’t, or you’ll end up poor again).

➽ Thingol is the definition of old is the new young. This man has the stamina to last for a lifetime and makes sure you’re always satisfied. He can be stingy and demand that you give him more attention (he’s a receiver more than a giver). You’ll have to catch him in the right mood for him to be on the giving end.

➽ But still, you can’t complain because you’re getting good dic—. Anyway speaking of spoiling you, he adores whenever you’re completely decked out in lingerie for him, i.e. just all the jewellery he bought for you and nothing else.

➽ He does have a slight breeding kink, but it isn’t intending to want children, so you have nothing to worry about. Thingol just enjoys the sight of prettying his sugar baby.

➽ Know that he’ll gift you some necklace or ring that informs everyone that you’re his and no one else’s. If you ask him if it means he’s proposing, he’ll reply with something along the lines of, “You’re already mine princess, wedding ring or not.”

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ. Elrond

➽ DILF number three and it makes perfect sense since he’s a descendant of many DILFs (Fingolfin, Turgon, Thingol). But Elrond doesn’t mind being someone’s sugar daddy, though his intentions are more for genuine purposes. If you want more, you’re gonna have to do all the work to show him that it’s more than paying your tuition and giving you money.

➽ Nevertheless, he covers all your expenses and demands that you perform excellently in your field of study or job. Elrond would even go out of his way to personally teach you (and no, I don’t mean bending you over the desk type of teaching) to ensure success is at your fingertips.

➽ This man is the most passionate and dedicated sugar daddy who cares about your well-being to a great extent. He’s well-rounded, so he’s fulfilling all your needs and wants, health, education, finances, basic commodities and living expenses. Please don’t disappoint him by failing your classes, he’s pulling all his money into the best tutors.

➽ In return for your devotion and passion for excellence, you are getting spoiled but not like the others. Elrond doesn’t mind giving you money or taking you on shopping sprees or trips around the world, he simply doesn’t want you dependent dependent on him to always provide since he’s building you up to become your own boss and financially secure.

➽ He’ll spoil, but not to that extent. Such a philosophical man, teaching all about life and how to be independent and headstrong.

➽ Now, as I’ve previously mentioned, if you want him to take you to bed, impressions are everything. Elrond’s the type to get impressed by your sense of elegance, sophistication and linguistics. Show him how skilled your tongue is, and he’ll be wanting more. No doubt he’s rewriting the contract in his mind.

➽ He has kids and knows how to ramp in between the sheets. In his state, he probably isn’t interested in more given his desire for companionship, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t going to be giving out creampies. The sight of it is his catalyst for wanting to give you more and keep you up all night.

➽ He’s a gentleman in the streets and will incapacitate you in the sheets. Tricks up his sleeves despite having an old fashion appeal about him. Give him a dance dressed in some pretty lingerie—nothing overly fancy, he likes elegance and simplicity—while he sips on whisky or brandy in a button-down shirt and his tie lazily discarded around his neck.

➽ Treat him well because running multiple companies is tiring, so relieve his stress while he relieves yours and you’ll be the happiest sugar baby ever.

Masterlist

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iouinotes · 5 months

Text

All for you | Carl Gallagher

pairing: Carl Gallagher x female!reader

show: Shameless

warnings: angst, fluff, smut (the reader and Carl are 18 years old in this ff)

summary: Carl is challenged that he can get your money, if he makes you fall in love with him. He loves the challenge until he loves something else more...

authors note: sorry for so many pov switched, I didnt notice it, when I first wrote this ff. Also I haven't had the chance to watch all the seasons yet, but I still hope that Carl's character is somewhat accurate :))

Carl's pov

"Frank, goddamit youre no help! Why are you even lying around here - oh forget it, I don't want to hear it." Fiona's voice echoes in the room, while the entire Gallagher household is present.

The everyday discussion has been going on for too many minutes in which I could have done something better. The damn question “How do we get enough money?”

Lip at college, Ian with his gangster boyfriend, my shitty sister with her kid and then Liam. This family is screwed. No wonder with a father like Frank.

As the argument continues to escalate, I have the misfortune of sitting right next to him.

"You care to share some money, son?" Of course, my attempts to ignore him are unsuccessful.

"The drug trade doesn't always work out so well, but the weapon thing was something. You could give one to your good old dad, you know what the neighborhood is like." I run my hands through my hair in frustration, shaking my head.

"Just get one or two girls pregnant at school, then all of our problems are solved. But she has to be rich. After all, you want to get your hard work paid." Why the hell am I still here?

"You used to be more enthusiastic about my ideas. If you don't want to do play daddy, then use your charm. When I was your age, my cock was enough and the girls were happy."

"Be fucking quiet, no one wants to hear about your pathetic youth." It's no use, he keeps talking.

"I'm only saying, If you make a rich girl fall in love with you, then you can get money to do something nice for your family."

As I get up and walk away from him I take a breath, the tension caused by this idiot sucks.

Still, his words got me thinking. Maybe there's a new girl who would be perfect for this job...

🔗🔗🔗🔗

Your pov

When I moved here, I wasn't sure what to expect. New school, maybe mean classmates and bad cafeteria food. That I might be able to join a group and make friends, people who laugh with me in class or go to the cinema together on weekends.

I was prepared to get lost in the hallways a few times, perhaps to be peppered with embarrassing questions by the teachers. I had even prepared myself for being called a nerd again and therefore spending my lunch breaks alone.

Then things turned out differently. I met two girls who, although they scared me at first with their need to gossip all the time, are good people at heart.

They studied with me (meaning they told me the newest gossip and braided my hair while I did our homework), showed me the city and its pitfalls. I felt comfortable, prepared and confident for what awaited me here.

Oh lord, was I wrong.

On a Thursday in the middle of the week I met a boy who messed everything up. Literally.

I met him when he was running through the halls twenty minutes late, but stupidly didn't pay attention to me, who was about to cross his path. Let's put it this way, it ended with my books on the floor, my jacket hanging off my shoulder, and his hair being a huge mess.

When he looked at me, I expected to hear something like "sorry" or "I'll help you."

You want to know what he said?

"Cute top. Let me know if you need help taking it off."

Then he got up casually and walked into the classroom across the hallway, a grin on his face as if he had won the Bachelor title.

After this encounter two things became very clear to me. 1. Look both ways when crossing the halls and 2. Stop daydreaming about this boy, even if he has beautiful blue eyes.

The first thing worked better than the second.

After a few descriptions, which actually only consisted of "incredibly impudent and incredibly good-looking", it was explained to me who I was dealing with.

Carl Gallagher. A boy who has lived here since he was born, someone who is rumoured to be more dangerous than the Italian Mafia.

Even though I thought that was exaggerated, I quickly realized that I should stay away from him and that he meant trouble.

Aside from the fact that I wasn't going to be in the situation of talking to him again anyway, my eyes couldn't stop themselves from looking at him.

There was something that defined him, something that made me want to watch a grin creep across his face when he made an inappropriate joke, how he would push his blonde hair back and his eyes would shine mischievously, as if he had already planned the next bank robbery.

I wasn't the only one who found his charisma attractive tho, of course not when he looked like one of God's angels, but he never really seemed interested in other girls. At least not with any serious intent, you might hear him flirting or making comments about his free bed, but you would never saw him in a relationship.

He never held hands or kissed anyone, had a real smile on his face or said sweet things, he was just Carl.

Suggestive, hot-tempered and like a flag that proclaimed: Stay away from me, because you will lose this fight.

I also felt that if I continued to watch him, I would lose the battle for platonic feelings towards him too.

"Please don't tell me you're looking at our school bad boy again. You better be careful, he might want to sell you a gun." Kenzie's voice makes me sigh.

"These are just rumors. Besides, it's not my fault, he's just -" Her hand on my shoulder interrupts me.

"We know, you have heart eyes every time you talk about him. There are so many great guys in this world, I'm not saying at this school, but you choose this one?" Her look says more than a thousand words as she looks over at Carl, who is pushing his way trough the crowd.

"I'm not in love, just curious. Those are two different things, okay?" Her eyebrows raise.

"You mean, curious how his lips would feel on yours?" Her laughter at my expression is lost in the sounds of the cafeteria.

"Very funny." I murmur to her, food forgotten on my plate. When the school bell rings, I stand up and pick up my backpack.

"My class is canceled now, but I'm going to the library. Will you meet me later?" As I walk backwards I see her thumbs up and the hearts she makes in Carl's direction. My reaction is two quick middle fingers.

As I walk out of the school building, I check my phone and tie my hair into a braid. The library is a few blocks away and the cool air makes me shiver.

When I get there and wave to the boy at the entrance, I turn to my favorite department. Call it cliche, but I love romance books. I mean, I don't know what it feels like to love someone with all my heart, but that doesn't mean I don't love reading about it.

The books I actually need are a few rows away. History, literature, everything I am assigned to get for school.

As I stroke over a few tapes and finally pull out a book to read the first few pages, I hear a noise next to me that makes me look up. After all, the library is usually a pretty quiet place.

As I look into the familiar blue eyes, I feel my cheeks turn red.

I have to stop myself from staring.

"Always a book in your hand, I see." Oh his voice hasn't changed. I try to shrug casually as I answer, but I'm not sure if it actually works.

"Aren't you going to be late for class again?" At my sarcasm he smiles, he takes a step in my direction which weakens my control over my voice.

"I thought I would learn something somewhere else too." These coded words make me swallow.

"So, you're here often?" I almost think he's not answering me, but maybe I'm just not concentrating, because I'm paying too much attention to every mole on his face.

"Actually, I didn't even know this shitty town had a library." His words make me laugh, but several requests to be quiet around us, make me whisper in response.

"Then why are you here?" I think my breathing stops as his hand brushes my fingers that are still holding the book.

"You're here." I feel my heart beating nervously faster, I probably look pretty confused and when I notice his grin, something flutters in my chest.

"No interest in books, huh?" Can my answer actually be any lamer?

"Dont worry, I have a newfound interest in you."

🔗🔗🔗🔗🔗

Your pov

If someone had told me a few weeks ago that I would become friends with Carl Gallagher, I would have found the idea absolutely crazy. To be honest, I still find the situation insane, but damn my cheeks still turn just as red when he's with me as they did the first time.

It turns out that he really has no interest in books, even though he visited me at the library almost every day since we met in the romance department.

I've never met anyone like him, funny and couragous without any reserve, always looking for trouble, acting self-confident. But also sweet.

He's like a current that pulls you along, like a wind that blows so hard that you fly with it. He feels like freedom and it is wonderful.

He makes me laugh, he carries my books, plays with my hair, walks home with me. In such a short time I feel like he didn't knock on the doors to my heart, instead he made a home there.

Maybe this is what it feels like to fall in love.

It's not a gentle announcement, more of a realization that makes you incredibly desperate and happy at the same time.

But with him I actually just feel happy.

"Ready, sunshine?" As soon as I come out of the classroom, he comes towards me and takes my bag from me. My heart jumps at his gesture, which feels like winning the Olympics.

"You're crazy, where do you even want to go?" He has something planned but won't tell me. When he puts his arm around my shoulder and I lean against him, I get a few sideways glances from our classmates.

Carl ignores everyone like always, it's crazy but the way he's so confident is pretty attractive to me.

"Does the guy in your cheesy books also tell you where they go on dates? I bet not, so just wait."

🔗🔗🔗🔗

"It feels like you're kidnapping me."

I feel his smile on my back and have to giggle quietly at his response.

"Mh, I plan to do that. But only for a few hours, otherwise my head will roll tomorrow. Your father takes your curfew pretty seriously."

I feel his hands on my hips, guiding me forward, hear the birds chirping around us, but can't figure out where we're going.

"Just a few more steps, baby. Then you'll see." As he promised, it is only a few meters away and when I see a small, calm lake, my mouth falls open in surprise.

"Carl, oh my God! It's wonderful here, thank you so much." I turn around in his grip and look at him, his smile reflects the love that I feel.

"Yeah? How much do you like it?" As his eyes focus on my lips, I feel a tingling feeling in my stomach. Slowly, my fingers stroke his chest and I see him swallow, even though he tries to hide it.

"I think it's incredibly beautiful here, I love it. And...I really like you." I shyly lower my gaze, my words are met with an unknown silence that makes me anxious after a few seconds. But when I look up at him again, he pushes a strand of my hair out of my face.

"To me, you are much more beautiful than this sight. I like you too and I thought that was pretty obvious." I smile broadly, butterflies fly around in my stomach and as the sun illuminates his face, I feel incredibly happy.

"You're so nice to me, I don't know how I deserve this." An expression crosses his face, but when I blink he smiles at me again.

"After all, you are the first person who explained the topics for the history exam to me, without giving up." My hand cups his cheek.

"I wouldn't give you up, you've become too important to me." As I stand on my tiptoes, our lips brush, his hand is on my back and pushes me closer to him.

"You are an angel." With his words we kiss and everything else around us blurs, only he remains. Everything is unimportant except him, standing in front of me, so handsome, that it is difficult not to look at him.

"Come on, let's go for a swim." As he pulls me towards the lake, you can hear our loud laughter in the air.

🔗🔗🔗🔗

Carl's pov

"When are you going to collect the money? You've been with her for the last three months and nothing has come of it." Frank's annoying voice frustrates me more than anything else.

"I am working on it. Besides, she's actually really caring." When I see the dismissive hand gesture in my direction, I roll my eyes.

"You are completely wrong, son. A person is there for a certain period of time, but money? Money accompanies you throughout your life, especially if you buy beautiful bottles of the best alcohol."

I sink into the sofa, but want to turn away when I feel his hand on my shoulder.

"If you put it off any longer, it will be harder to get out of the situation. Girls your age will start planning to get married, if you stay with them for months."

But when he leaves, I feel conflicted. Can I really do this to her?

🔗🔗🔗🔗

Carl's pov

"Happy birthday!" Her voice makes me jump and, confused, I turn around on the bench to look into her excited eyes.

"Why are you jumping around like that? Are you practicing for cheerleading?" I'm making fun of her, but the smile on her face doesn't fade.

"No, idiot. I'm just really curious to see how you react to your gift." My breath catches for a moment as I take in her words.

"You got me something?" When she leans forward and gives me a kiss on the cheek while pressing the bag into my lap, I start to smile too.

"Open!" Her encouragement breaks me out of my trance and I quickly tear up the paper, looking at the tickets with wide eyes.

"But...these tickets cost a fortune? Did you sell your liver or something?" When I look at her, she smiles back at me.

"I talked to my dad and he agreed that you deserve something special for your birthday. Are you happy?" As I look at the cards, I suddenly feel a pang in my heart. It must be showing on my face, because her happiness is also fading away.

"Do you not like it? I thought it was your favorite team? I can get you something else." When I look at her, I quickly pull her between my legs and kiss her.

"Shh, breathe angel. It's perfect, thank you. And well, your father. It's just a lot of money." Her hands play with the fabric of my shirt.

"You always say that. Do you have problems at home, with money, I mean? I've never been to your place, I don't even know where you live." What should I say to her now?

"It's okay." Her raised eyebrows look at me reproachfully, making me sigh.

"Each of us has to contribute a certain amount of money every month and if I don't sell fucking drugs, it will be tight." Her astonished look makes me pause and I gently stroke her arms.

Before I can say anything else, she kisses me. I look at her in surprise.

"What's that for?" She smiles shyly, looks at the floor for a moment before looking at me again.

"You're just so honest, I admire that. And that you've never asked me for anything, you know. That I lend you some money."

Fuck. Shit. What do I say?

"Yeah, I mean, I don't want to burden you with that-" but she interrupts me again, her concentrated expression makes me curious.

"What's going on in your pretty head?" My hands wander over her sides.

"It's the end of the month, how much are you missing?" I frown in confusion, but when she doesn't let it go, I tell her the amount.

"$240, the rest I earned by helping in the neighborhood." But despite the high sum, she just nods, looks at me again and gives me another kiss.

"Okay, maybe I'll be your sugar mommy." I have to laugh at the absurdity, but the longer she grins at me, the more I think she means it.

"What, are you serious? Thats fucking crazy, how am I supposed to pay you back?" Her eyes look around, but since the classroom is relatively empty during recess, she finds herself between my legs again. She slowly lets her hand wander down my stomach until she squeezes my cock through my clothes and I close my eyes in delight.

"Hmm, maybe you could help me relax between classes." Her eyes sparkle mischievously and I look at her with a grin.

"Anything you want, sugar."

Let's put it this way, the next few weeks the breaks were filled with kissing in the back corner of the classroom, dry humping on the toilet or Carl doing his best to pleasure me with his tongue in the caretaker's room, like now.

"Ahh-, Carl. I'll cum if you keep that up." His head has disappeared under my skirt, his fingers are stroking the bare skin of my thigh and the sinful movements of his tongue are making me see stars.

As he adds a finger and runs it over my folds, slowly until he inserts it, he looks at me again.

"You coming for me? Yeah, be a good girl or do you want to get caught by the old janitor grandpa spreading your legs for me?" As my eyes roll back, he pumps another finger into me, scissoring it thoroughly and hitting that sweet spot inside me.

When I moan loudly, he grins.

"You like that? Just wait until I bury my cock in you and you cant walk straight afterwards, so that everyone will notice." When his finger presses my clitoris, I see white and as I come I try to muffle the sounds with my hand over my mouth.

When I get off my high, I blindly search for my panties. But Carl beats me first.

"Hmm, no. I think I'll keep it as a little souvenir. Maybe you can get it back when you come to my house later." I don't know what surprises me more: that he wants me to run around exposed at school or that I'm invited to his house for the first time.

"Really? I'd like to come." But he interprets my words differently, his fingers stroke my entrance again and I moan and squeeze my eyes shut.

"Don't worry, I'll take care of it. Very well and for a very long time." When the bell rings, he lets go of me and I whimper slightly.

"Carl-" but he interrupts me by pulling back and straightening my skirt.

"I'm sure our agreement was between recess, now it's class time. Come on, I'll make it up to you later."

🔗🔗🔗🔗

Your pov

As we ride the bus toward his home, I take his hand and intertwine our fingers.

"But don't expect a mansion or any of that shit." Ever since we left school, he has been bad-mouthing his hometown every free minute he has.

"Don't worry, I'll only have eyes for you anyway." The statement makes him laugh and he relaxes a little. As we get out and walk a little way along the street, we are watched by a few people.

"Why are so many people staring at us?" When he look at me, I'm obviously confused.

"Not everyone here wears designer clothes that cost several thousand dollars. If you come here more often, they'll call you a princess." Giggling, I slap him on the arm and as we climb the stairs to his house, I look around curiously.

"So this is where you grew up." His shoulders shrug casually, but I see him trying to gauge my reaction.

"Yeah, where in the world could it be nicer?" I laugh at his sarcastic comment and we both smile at each other as we enter the house.

I hear him calling into the house, then a girl with red hair appears, carrying a baby.

"You must be Debbie, the little one is so adorable." When I hold out my hand, she just looks at Carl with her eyebrows still raised.

"What did you do to end up with her? Also my daughter's name is Franny and yes, I know condoms exist." Surprised, I don't know exactly how to answer, so I leave it to Carl.

"My tongue is magic, Debs. Too bad you won't find out yourself anytime soon, Derek has moved away. By the way, Franny seems hungry." I'm unsure of the dynamic between the two of them, as she turns away and walks away, I resist the urge to say goodbye.

"That was...nice." His hand pulling me towards the stairs distracts me.

"She's a real ray of sunshine, come on. The others aren't back yet, so you can be as loud as you want this time."

When we get upstairs, he leads me into his room and I look at the magazines, posters and little things scattered everywhere.

"Cleaning and you are definitely not friends, huh?" I laugh at my joke, but Carl has other plans than letting me inspect his room.

He puts his hands on my hips and pushes me against the closed door, my breath catches as his eyes find mine.

"Do you want to keep playing housemaid? Then put on a damn maid costume, otherwise keep your eyes on me." At his stern voice, I press my thighs together and, grinning, I drag my fingers across his chest once again.

"Would you like that? Me on the floor, my ass in the air, and no underwear? Oh wait, what a coincidence that I'm not wearing any now either." His eyebrows raise, I see his eyes darken with lust.

"Let's save this little fantasy for another time, right now I just want to see you on my cock." Smiling, I lean towards him and start kissing him. I loosen the belt I bought him and pull him closer to me by his waistband.

"I think I did well today. After all, I didn't complain about getting through the school day without underwear. Do I get my reward now?" Grinning, he takes off my top and looks at my lace bra.

"Everything you want." He drops to his knees in front of me and kisses his way along my thighs, lifts my skirt and presses a kiss to my folds. Slowly he moves his tongue higher and kisses my stomach, I lean my head against the door.

"Does that feel good?" I just nod, burying my hand in his hair as he puts his mouth on me again.

"Ahh- Carl, I want you now." His fingers stretch me, the wetness running down my legs, making me tremble.

"You got me, sweetheart. What do you want me to do?" His head lifts to look at me and I place my fingers around his chin, seeing the moisture on his lips.

"I've been prepared enough, I want your dick now. Let's see if it's as magical as your tongue." Grinning, he stands up and lifts me up, lays me on my back on his bed and lies down between my legs.

He places a few kisses on my legs, then stretches up on his elbows so he's hovering over me. Then he kisses my cheek and my lips, lets his tongue slide over them and lets me taste myself.

I run my fingers through his blonde hair and pull his body closer to me. When he pulls a condom out of his pocket, I hold my breath.

"You still want to do this?" His look calms all the worries I had. I nod, stroking my fingers over his heated cheek.

"I trust you." His next kiss is passionate, his hands gliding over my body, caressing every bit of exposed skin. I lift my back off the mattress and let him take off my bra. His head lowers to run his tongue over my navel. As he sucks on them, I moan softly.

One of his hands starts kneading my breasts and when I try to take off my skirt, he stops me.

"Leave it on, okay?" I kiss him in response.

His hand strokes my sides and my own hands rest on his shoulders as he presses the tip of his cock against my entrance.

"Ready, baby?" When I agree, he presses himself into me and for a moment I have to squint my eyes because it hurts.

Then I feel several gentle kisses on my cheek, my forehead and my lips. His attempts to distract me work and as I become more and more relaxed, he slides further into me.

Slowly he presses his hips against me, the stretch so great that I can feel him all the way into my stomach. He waits for a moment, whispering sweet things in my ears until they get dirty and I beg him to move.

My hands wrap around his shoulders as he thrusts into me for the first time, the air around us thickening as he grunts and a moan escapes me.

"You're doing so well, God, you feel so good." His hips move faster and faster, the pleasure spreads through my body and the wetter I feel, the easier he slides in and out of me.

"You are perfect, my perfect girl. Do you feel good?" His hands stroke my skin, gently pinching my nipples, playing with them and making me squirm beneath him.

As he grips my hips and pushes himself harder into me, my head starts to spin. My noises get louder.

"Carl- god, please go harder" And so he does, the room is filled with the sounds of our bodies and sweat forms on us.

"Baby, do you want to ride me? You have such pretty thighs." I nod and when he pulls out of me I can't think clearly, I just want him to fill me up again.

He leans back and as I stabilize myself on his shoulders, I sink back onto him. The feeling is even better that my eyes roll back. His hands grasp my hips, helping me move.

"That's right, baby. You're doing so good, riding my cock like the good girl you are." At his words, I tighten my grip on him and he curses as I move harder on top of him.

The faster I go, the more exhausting it becomes, but as I feel a knot forming in my stomach, I ride him so fast just to chase my pleasure.

Then suddenly as he hits my spot inside me over and over again, I go boneless on him and melt in his arms. My come drips all over him and as he continues to fuck me, reaching his own climax, I tremble in his grip.

"Just a few more thrusts, baby. Ah, keep holding on to me." Even though I have lost my strength, I move on him a few more times until he comes and I lay my head on his shoulder.

We're both breathing heavily, but everything feels so good, so warm and comfortable, that I don't want to move a single muscle anymore.

He carefully pulls out of me, I moan slightly at the loss. He gently lays me back on his pillow and gives me a kiss before throwing the condom away.

He pulls the blanket over us and puts his arm around me to pull me closer. I snuggle up to him and feel so safe that I quickly press my lips to his skin.

"That was wonderful." He also presses a kiss on my hair.

"That was incredible, you are the best. I can't wait to do it again." Our embrace becomes tighter. For a moment the room is silent.

When I whisper his name, he hums in response.

"I know it's cliche to say something like that after the first time. But I just feel it so much that it hurts to keep it to myself. I love you." As I lie on his chest I hear his heart stop for a moment and then it starts beating much faster.

"I- no one has ever said that to me before." When I raise my head and look at him, he doesn't look at me. Instead, his eyes are fouced on the ceiling.

"I just want you to know. I don't want to put any pressure on you to say it. I just thought you should hear it. You know, now that things are serious between us." Again he is silent and I start to worry, but then he looks at me.

"You are truly the most incredible person I have ever met. I consider myself very lucky." He smiles at me, then leans down and we kiss for a moment. It feels like heaven.

We lay there for a few minutes, just cuddling and telling each other how our day was. We laugh and as the sun slowly sets, I start to get dressed.

"I wish I could stay here with you. But you know what my parents are like." He leans back on his elbow, watching me get dressed and contact my parents to pick me up.

"Hmm, I think we would do it again. If you stayed here tonight, I mean." I smile at him, sit down on his bed for a moment and ruffle his hair.

"I wouldn't mind, darling." The nickname makes him blush and when he leans forward to kiss me, I playfully push him away.

"I have to go, are you coming down with me?" He nods, feigning annoyance, and as we walk out of his room, he puts his arm around my waist and pulls me towards him.

He steals his kiss there, but more than that he steals my heart.

We smile at each other and for this moment everything is just perfect. We go downstairs and just as we are back in the living room we hear a door open loudly.

A visibly drunk man stumbles in. I see Carl tense up next to me, staring at the stranger angrily. I quietly lean towards him to whisper my question.

"Who is that?" When he rolls his eyes, I get a bad feeling.

"That's my father, great isn't it?" The man in front of me is dirty, has unkempt hair and an unpleasant smile on his face.

"Should I ask my parents if you can stay overnight?" My gaze is more focused on the man than on Carl.

But he just shakes his head, and just as he is about to answer, the man sees us too.

"Oh, my son! It's so good to see you, not really, but I'll take your bed. Fiona has mine. Is that your little girlfriend? She looks expensive, very good catch. How much money did you rip her off? I hope it's worth it to go through all this drama." I frown in confusion, but when Carl freezes next to me, I become uncertain.

"What does he mean by that?" This time my gaze is directed solely at Carl.

"Nothing, he's drunk-" but before he can finish, the man does.

"How rude of me, I am Frank. The proud father of this child, at least one of my descendants has made something of himself and used his talent. He has my good genes, the good looks and I teach him the tricks. Like exploiting an innocent, very very rich girl for money. It doesn't bother you, I hope? You seem to have enough, but I hope my son returns the favor to you."

The words catch me so off guard that I can't move. I don't believe anything this man says until I see the guilty look on Carl's face.

"W-what? That's a lie, right? Tell me he's lying, Carl." As he runs his hands through his hair and tries to answer me, Frank speaks again.

"Oh, you haven't confessed to her yet? My fault, I should have waited. I didn't think you would humiliate this girl for so long. I told you this wouldn't end well." But Carl ignores him completely when he notices me moving away from him.

"Wait, I'm sorry. It wasn't like that-" But I interrupt him, already feeling tears gathering in my eyes.

"So what happened? You act like you don't want any money from me and-" Carl's look becomes frustrated.

"You offered me your money! You said if I matched it, everything would be fine for you." I'm almost speechless, is this all a nightmare?

"Are you serious? I offered it to you because you weren't asking for it. And now I find out it was your plan from the beginning? You just talked to me, just spent time with me to get my money? Who does that?" Frank's voice intervenes.

"I invented the strategy, my dear. It's turning out to be quite useful." But I don't pay attention to him, I just look at Carl.

"Please, I'm sorry. Yes, it was meant that way in the beginning, but it's different now. I-" My tears flow when he admits it and any feeling of happiness disappears. All that remains is betrayal and sadness.

"You what? What am I saying, you were probably happy that I only wanted you in return. I'm such an idiot. You didn't just take my money, you took my first time too!" As he comes towards me, I step back.

"Listen to me, I didnt force you to do all this for me. You wanted it." The more he talks the more desperate I feel and the greater my anger becomes.

"You idiot! I thought you liked me! I thought you finally noticed me too." My sobs get louder and my vision blurs. When he tries to grab my face, I slap him.

"My cue to go. I can see that you're sorting it out between yourselves just fine." Frank's footsteps fading away are nothing compared to the sound of my heart breaking.

"I like you, I really like you. At first it wasn't my intention to start a relationship with you, but then I got to know you and-" Every word that escapes him is only worse.

"Stop talking! You know what the worst thing is that I liked you for so long before you even talked to me. And I thought it was a miracle when you first spoke to me in the libary. I should have listened to the others, you only care about yourself!" I wipe the tears from my cheeks, wishing I could be anywhere but here.

Then before he can say anything, I turn around and run out of the house. But I hear him following me.

"Wait! Don't just walk away, I have to get this straight. Hey!" He catches me, turns me around and holds my tear-stained face in his hands.

"I'm an idiot, I know that. I'm sorry for hurting you. I- God, I love you. You hear me? I love you too. Please stay." But I just shake my head and try to free myself from his grip.

"How do I know if that isn't a lie too? You've betrayed me, I can't talk to you now." When my car pulls up, I get in without turning around. I don't look back, even though his loud curse can be heard throughout the whole neighborhood.

🔗🔗🔗🔗🔗

Your pov

I spend the next few days without saying much, but I cried almost the whole time.

I miss him incredibly, not a day has gone by in the last few months when I haven't seen him and now I've been alone for three days.

I wish he was here, but on the other hand I am so hurt and feel terrible. He is the reason for this.

I wish I had never found out. I wish he had never done it, never lied to me. Didn't use me for money, but worst of all, I don't know if he even likes me.

Today is the first day that I go back to school. Even though I put on make-up, choose a nice outfit and listen to my favorite songs to distract myself, I can only think of him.

His blonde hair, his beautiful eyes, the way his lips felt. How he felt inside me. Then I remember that he loves me and how he finally said it, something I have wanted to hear for so long.

But then I think about what he did and everything feels empty again.

As I enter the school, my friends come to meet me. They already know what happened, they all hug me and I feel a little better.

Until I see him.

And he sees me too. It takes all my effort to avert my gaze. To get my books out of my cupboard, but then I have to stop because he is not standing next to me offering to carry them.

I take it myself, close my door, but before I can go any further, he is standing in front of me. My heart stops. Oh, how his eyes shine.

"Do you need help?" His eyes focus on the books and I have to swallow several times before I can answer.

"No, I have to go to class now." But as I try to walk past him, he stops me.

"You don't answer my texts, you don't call me back. I'm not allowed into your house and you avoid me at school. What can I do? Please tell me what I need to do, so you forgive me." I laugh, but it is without humor.

"What can you do? Move."

I can see his shock, but he still doesn't step aside.

"Can't you hear me? I said-" but he walks toward me until I'm forced to lean my back against the lockers.

His eyes find mine.

"I can't sleep. And when I do, I dream of you. There's a - a hole in my heart that only you can fill. It hurts and I hate not being with you. It's even worse to be here, when you don't look at me the way you usually do. You don't smile at me, God, you don't look like you're in love with me anymore. It's hell."

Tears gather in my eyes, his words are so desperate, it hurts to see him like this.

"Maybe you should have thought about that before you took advantage of me. Before you slept with me." A tear runs down my cheek and I know my mascara is smudging.

"I know, I know. And I feel so bad, I'll do anything to make it right. Just tell me."

When I look into his eyes, my heart also hurts.

"Move, Carl. I can't see you now." This time he lets go of me and I go to class with tears in my eyes.

🔗🔗🔗🔗

Your pov

It's been four weeks since we last spoke, but it doesn't hurt any less to see him. Even if I don't let him talk to me, he doesn't give up.

He puts flowers in my locker, chocolate, and notes full of apologies and sweet promises.

Everything warms my heart, but it still feels like this money thing is unresolved between us. I know now that he likes me, very much in fact, as he makes it clear, but that doesn't change the real problem.

That he used me for my money.

As I leave school that day, I feel exhausted and, as I often do, I wish I had his arms around me.

Holding me tight, his lips kissing me, loving me.

As I wait for my father's car, I suddenly hear his familiar throat clearing. With my heart pounding, I turn around and see him smiling uncertainly at me.

"I know what I had to do and now I've done it. Here." He gives me an envelope and I take it uncertainly.

"Carl, your letters are flattering, but-" He quickly interrupts me.

"No, it's something else. Open it." The deja vu hits me unexpectedly and I slowly open the envelope, the content leaves me speechless.

"What is that supposed to be?" It's rhetorical, but I ask anyway.

"All the money I owe you. What you've kindly given me, I pay it back. Every cent. You can count." He looks so proud, I almost have to laugh.

"How- did you rob a bank?" He grins contentedly at my reaction.

"An old grandma." This time I laugh and he comes closer to me, slowly taking my hands.

"No, seriously. How did you do that?" He looks at me lovingly.

"Working in the kitchen every day after school, I found a part-time job with Fiona. The payment is bad, but it was worth it. I understand that money was the problem and well, that I wasn't honest to you." As I lower the envelope, we look at each other.

"Promise, no more secrets?"

He smiles and suddenly the world is a brighter place.

"Promise, but we continue one of our agreements." I raise my eyebrows questioningly, seeing him grin as he leans toward me, his breath brushing against my lips and he whispers:

"I'll still spend my breaks with you in the janitor's room."

The laughter that escapes me gets interrupted, when his lips meet mine.

#carl gallagher #shameless #x reader #love #smut #betrayal #love confessions #angst with a happy ending #angst

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