#it was supposed to be smutty at first but i changed it to fit the rules | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

citrus-moonlight · 1 year ago

Text

Danger Starts the Sharp Incline

Fandom: MCU - Age of Ultron, Black Panther Pairing: Demon!Klaue x Fem Scientist Reader Chapters: 1 of 1 Word count: 4.5K Rating: Explicit

Summary: At your scientific organization the study of demon energy output has become no less mundane than it would at any other research facility. That is until you find yourself trapped with the demon who has recently shifted in your thoughts from an idle curiosity to a distraction.

Warnings: Explicit Rating!, No Age Specified, PWP, One Shot, Smut, Let Me Be Clear: This Is Absolute Filth, Monster Fucking, Demon Fucking, Could be viewed as Dubcon, Implied Mind Manipulation, But to be clear reader is Into It, Pet Names, Touch Starved Demon, Oral Sex (Fem Receiving), Vaginal Fingering, Big Hands I Know You're the One, Unprotected PIV, Size Kink, Squirting, A Lot of Demon Cum, Like A Lot, Cum Marking, Creampie, Breeding Kink, Multiple Orgasms (both), Overstimulation, Possessiveness

A/N: Once again, this was supposed to be a quick little smutty thing that ended up getting very, very away from me. This honestly could have been even longer (it was over 5.5k and counting at one point!), but I managed to reign myself in, lol. I almost feel like I have enough for a part two, so who knows, perhaps I'll revisit this AU one day in the future!

This was inspired by the first bit of this absolutely incredible demon/scientist blurb* by @biscuitdragonwithastick, which you should definitely read first (thank you for the ok to go ahead with this!). It fully dug its claws (pun intended?) into my brain and refused let me go. I couldn't stop thinking about a Demon!Klaue AU, and thanks to some lovely encouragement, this is the result!

Please, please mind the tags, my dears, and thank you for reading!

*Demon's name has been changed here to fit the AU

Dividers by the lovely @saradika-graphics ❤️

UPDATING TO ADD PLEASE GO CHECK OUT THIS DEMON!KLAUE FANART BY MY INCREDIBLE LOVELY TALENTED FRIEND, truly I have not stopped screaming! 😍🥹💕

Work title is from "All Mine" by Portishead

AO3 Link

Make no mistake You shan't escape Tethered and tied There's nowhere to hide from me All mine You have to be

Klaw’s reaction continues to be noted by the higher-ups, and eventually it’s decided that they want to conduct an experiment, using you.

The next time you’re scheduled on the cleaning rotation they want to take the opportunity to determine if there’s a measurable difference in output and chemical composition - before and after you’ve been in the room with him.

“Just consider what it might mean to the future of energy research”, they’d said. “It could lead to the discovery of a demon-sensitive pheromone additive that boosts energy output across the board.”

Although you flush at the outward acknowledgement of what’s been happening, you can’t deny that it intrigues you.

Especially since you had started dreaming about him.

Since you’d stopped being able to control how wet you got when you observed him.

Since the self-consciousness you’d felt at the sidelong glances of your colleagues had started feeling like something else.

Something like pride.

* * * * * *

Two days later you’re scheduled for the night shift alone, with not much else to do but make the occasional note in the shift log and wait for the alarm that indicates the mare’s collection tank is full. So you wait.

And watch.

For the first time you have a chance to really just look at him, and you’re finding it difficult to pay attention to the instruments that you should be monitoring. Your eyes instead are continually drawn back to the observation window and the thick mop of black curls that falls across his forehead where his horns emerge, sharp features are framed by the scruff of a dark beard, and an intriguing mix of tattoos, brands and scars play across the planes and curves of his body.

Although his muscles aren’t as chiseled as many of the demons you've observed in this facility his shoulders and arms are thick, and you unconsciously lick your lips as your eyes follow the dark hair that covers his broad chest and abdomen down to where it meets the wiry hair at the base of his cock.

A slick warmth has been slowly pooling between your thighs since you settled into your chair at the beginning of the shift, but as you watch the bored pumping of his hips fall into a smoother, swaying rhythm, that warmth ignites.

Widening his stance, hooved feet brace on the floor as he pulls out further before thrusting back in, letting you watch his cock slide slowly back into the machine’s opening, burying himself with a jutting roll of his hips, over and over. Almost teasing.

Almost taunting.

This could be you.

It’s only when Klaw drags his hands along the metal “body” of the mare that you notice it: The claws of the first three fingers of his right hand seem to be…gone?

With a flicker of concern you flip a switch on the console, using the camera to zoom in.

Ok, no, they’re not gone per se, but they’re definitely shorter, nearly down to the quick. Was it an accident? Did they break in a fervor as he fucked the contraption?

Frowning at the screen your mind turns over the possibilities, but before you can think to add the peculiarity to your notes your thoughts fizzle away when you glance back up to the observation window and see that he’s watching you.

As soon as your eyes meet his the tease in his movements falls away and he’s bottoming out hard against the opening in a rough, stuttered rhythm as his eyes cloud over, and you know from past observation that he’s nearing the edge.

Your inner muscles clench and the ache that’s been building since you walked in here swells and overlaps with a flaring jealousy when Klaw shudders and growls, filling the receptacle with another thick load of his seed.

You don’t even realize that you stood up until you feel the cool glass of the observation window beneath your palms, your breath fogging the surface as you press yourself against the barrier.

There’s still a slow, uneven cadence to the demon’s thrusts following his climax, but his gaze swiftly sharpens on you again when one of your hands drifts idly across your stomach, then lower, fingers brushing over the top button of your pants-

-and then you jump when a shrill sound interrupts you, nearly growling at the surge of frustration.

The alarm is piercing and incessant and won’t stop until you enter the demon’s room, so you return to the control panel to activate the sigil that will keep him contained while you clean and recalibrate the machine - tests having shown that a laser projection of the correct wavelength of light is just as effective as a physical binding.

Once you’re through the airlock you quickly set to working through the checklist, unhooking the mechanism that feeds into tanks in the floor and connecting it to a fresh one. You move on to cleaning the unfeeling hole that the demon fucks into day in and day out, your breath going shallow at the jealousy that continues to singe your nerves.

His gaze stays entirely focused on you as you move around, cock swaying heavily in front of broad thighs - still hard, always hard - the still leaking head so dark it’s nearly purple.

The slick between your thighs has only increased since you started to work, fairly certain that you’ve soaked through your panties at this point, and when you have to pass closer to his “cage” he leans forward, nearly pressing himself against the barrier as he follows your path.

Inhaling deeply his cock twitches, more cum dripping from the tip as he ruts at the air, and you can't help but wonder if he’s picking up your frustrated arousal.

“Hurry up.” you chide yourself. “Stop getting distracted. Just finish your shit and get out.”

Kneeling down behind the machine you open the access panel and flip through the menus until you find the one that will complete the calibration, and while you’re focused on watching it cycle you don’t notice the outer door open from the hall into the observation room.

The intern who enters must not see you where you’re kneeling on the floor, and evidently thinking that the trap has been left on in error he flips the switch to deactivate it.

When the light from the beaming sigil goes dark you pop up in alarm, the face of the intern frozen in an almost comedic grimace of horror when he finally registers that you’re staring back at him from the wrong side of the glass.

The man reaches for the switch again but Klaw’s reflexes are faster, and before the trap can be reactivated the demon rushes the door. Slamming his shoulder against it he jams it so thoroughly they'll need to bring in special equipment to get it open again, but at this time of night it'll be hours, if you’re lucky, before a crew gets here.

Then he rounds on you.

With an oddly warm sense of detachment you think that you should feel fear as you watch the slow grin spread across his face, but the only thing you feel is a surge of hot, aching desire.

He rumbles something you don’t understand, though the rough texture of his words is still intoxicating, and before you realize what you’re doing you’re walking towards him, pulling your shirt over your head as you move.

Because right now you find that you want - need - to bare yourself for him, the sensation of it intense that your skin feels like it’s going to scald if you don’t get your clothes off now, and your shoes, pants and underwear quickly join the discarded pile on the floor.

Stopping in front of him you reach back to unclasp your bra, but your arms pause mid-way when Klaw’s hand reaches out, your breath hitching when he hooks a large, clawed finger beneath your chin, tilting your head up so that your eyes meet his.

You’d always assumed that his eyes were black, but this close you realize that they’re actually an impossibly deep blue, a blue that only resides along the penumbra of light and shadow where the last rays of sun reach into the depths of the ocean

You stand mesmerized as his hand dips lower, leaving behind a trail of gooseflesh as a claw trails gently down the delicate skin of your neck and chest, and then with a flick of his wrist the last scrap of fabric covering you gives way, exposing your breasts to the cool air.

You’ve barely shrugged off the ruined garment when suddenly you’re being picked up - so, so easily - and placed on a table, swiftly reminded of how much larger and stronger he is than you, and once again dimly aware that you should feel fear, or dread, or some instinct telling you to run.

Not of the shiver of anticipation that leaves your breath hitching in your chest.

Definitely not the wild need blooming in your core as sharp teeth ghost along the place where your blood thrums, his breath hot and his skin hotter.

His mouth continues its path downward, pausing to lick at the soft swell of your breasts, taking a moment to pull and pluck at your nipples with his lips. A pleased growl vibrates against your skin when you lean back onto your hands with a moan, arching into the swirl of his tongue around your pebbled flesh.

It’s not long, though, before he can no longer ignore the way this increases the heated musk between your thighs, leaving behind a wet trail of saliva as his mouth travels down, seeking the place where you’re already dripping for him.

The demon's hands nearly wrap entirely around your thighs yet his touch is almost cautious as he presses you open, mesmerized by the way you unfold for him like the petals of a flower, slick and shining.

HIs eyes are heavy lidded as thick fingers begin to tease through your folds, toying with your clit, surprising you with how softly he rolls it between thumb and forefinger, a grin curving the corner of his mouth when your hips buck into his touch.

Noting your reaction he repeats the motion, gently pinching and rolling the sensitive bud until your mouth drops open and your breath is coming in sharp gasps, his dark eyes staying fixed between your legs as thick fingers coax a warm, honeyed orgasm from you, leaving you keening and startled by the slow intensity of it.

You’ve barely caught your breath when you feel his mouth suddenly envelop your mound, lapping eagerly at your release as you whine and writhe beneath his tongue, overwhelmed at the stimulation.

It’s too much, all of this is too much, but as he continues licking and suckling at your sensitive flesh you find that you’re no longer fighting it, the hum of bliss that hadn’t yet faded already building to a fresh swell, and when his lips capture your clit with a sudden fluttering pressure your body stiffens as your second orgasm flares through you, sharper and brighter than the first.

When he finally releases you he speaks again, but through the haze of afterglow it takes a moment for it to register that this time you think that you understand him, the word seeming to appear within your mind at the same time that you hear it from his glistening lips.

“Sweet.”

With a start you look down at him and he pauses, head tilting, curiosity knitting his heavy brows.

Not moving his eyes from yours, his voice is a low, tentative purr when he speaks again.

“Would your sweet cunt like..more?”

Holy fuck. You can understand him.

Your thoughts spin as the shock works its way through you, the analytical part of your mind attempting to parse what the fuck is happening. Is it the increased time in his proximity? The physical contact? Whatever the mechanism, you can suddenly hear- or perhaps more accurately feel - his words, somewhere deep in your conscience.

A firm nod, then, in answer to his question, a responding pull of his lips into a slow, pleased grin.

Dipping his head Klaw licks a broad, wet stripe up your cleft, and then he’s devouring you, slavering hungrily against your sex, drool mixing with your arousal as his lips and tongue work your aching bundle of nerves until you’re gasping shallow breaths, every muscle strung taught as you hover on the edge once more.

Seeking for an anchor your hands find his curved horns, warm and leathery beneath your scrabbling fingers, and then with a rasping cry you’re coming in long, surging waves, your entire body trembling as your hips chase every flutter of pleasure on the tip of his tongue.

Dimly you think that he must be satisfied now, that you must be satisfied, yet it seems as though with every climax you only hunger more intensely for the next.

Once your hands release his horns and fall limp at your sides Klaw straightens up, and then wrapping his hand around his cock he starts roughly stroking himself.

Almost without thinking your legs fall open, shaky arms pulling your knees back to expose yourself to him, knowing he can see how your soaked cunt still clenches through the last waves of your orgasm, and it’s only a few more strokes before he’s coming with a rough jerk of his hips and you gasp at the heat, thick ropes of cum streaking across your slick folds and the insides of your thighs.

Still breathing hard, the pumping of his fist gradually slows, a hand drifting along the curve of your inner thigh as his focus comes back to you. Gathering some of the sticky mess he left between your legs he drags it through your folds, and then suddenly a thick finger is sliding into you.

Even as you gasp at the intrusion you begin to understand that he had actually done it on purpose: Biting down those claws himself because, it seems, he had been thinking about this.

The realization that it was for you leaves your entire body humming, and as your hips cant up to meet the slow, almost teasing thrusts, there’s only one word that swells and ripens in your mind, uncertain whether it’s your word or his even as it falls from your lips.

“More.”

A knowing glint flashes in his eyes at your soft plea, and almost immediately you feel a second finger slipping against you. Just teasing his fingertips at your entrance at first he lets your juices slick them before pressing into you, both fingers together nearly as thick as a human cock.

You moan as he continues to slide them in and out of you, and just as you begin to sink into the ache of it, you moan low in your throat when suddenly he’s adding a third.

The heady pressure of him working three fingers into your already stretched hole is overwhelming, and you’re unsure whether you want to throw yourself towards the sensation or resist it, your body arching into him, yet tensing and pulling away at the same time.

But then he’s pressing you down onto the table, his hand nearly spanning the width of your chest to hold you in place as his fingers continue nudging deeper.

“Where are you going, little one? Going to have to take it if you want my cock."

As if to emphasize his words he drags his erection against the inside of your thigh with a grunted sigh, a fresh streak of precum adding to the mess that he’s already left on you.

Because of course you do, and he knows it, has known it since you stopped being able to look away from his hunched form as he fucked into his mechanical mate, a warm curiosity growing into a distracting need.

And you know that he could have taken you at any time, could have forced himself into you as soon as your clothes were a forgotten pile on the floor. But instead, he’s been preparing you to take him properly, making you come until the only thing you know is his mouth and his fingers and you’re soft and trembling and ravenous.

“God yes.” You spread your legs wide again, giving him an obscene view of where his fingers are sinking into you, slick sounds filling the room as they pump faster now.

“There you go.” He croons above you. “Made for this, hmm?"

Any attempt at a response trails into a choked cry when he finds that soft, needy spot deep inside you, a fresh, pulsing heat spreading through your already exhausted body as he takes you apart once more. Still pinned beneath his hand you’re unable to do anything but allow it to wash through you, shaking and whimpering as he continues to drag firm, curling strokes against your clenching walls.

Leaning down Klaw presses his face into your heaving chest, and your nipples tighten and ache as he licks languorously between your breasts, his huffed breath is hot against your skin.

As your senses filter back in your hands slowly begin to move, exploring the corded muscles of his neck and shoulders, trembling fingers tugging and sliding through his hair, and then up and over his horns again.

Letting your eyes slip closed you take in the ridged curve of them, a velvety pleasure blooming in your chest when he inhales sharply, cock throbbing against your thigh when your fingers wrap around the base of them.

Finally pulling his fingers out of you he tugs you up, turning around and repositioning you so that you’re straddling his broad hips as best you can. Strong hands support you, encouraging you to slide your slick folds along his shaft, a giddy sort of panic stuttering in your chest at the sudden awareness of the size of him where he twitches between your thighs.

Desperate whines that may as well be prayers slide from your throat when he lifts you higher and you feel the thick, bulbous head of his cock nudging against your entrance, the only words falling from your lips a whispered litany of “Oh my god oh my god oh my god."

“I’m not your God, little one,” he growls softly, words distorted as if you're hearing them through a sediment of granite and blood. "But you will worship me."

“Yes. Yes..Oh fuck, please.”

Beneath your lilting plea you dimly hear gritted curses and words of encouragement as you circle your hips, your arousal making a slick mess of his cock.

You can't help how eagerly your hips rock down, seeking more, so lost in the sensations that you're unprepared when a hard press of your hips matches his upward thrust, and the thick head of his cock suddenly ruts up into you, and when he slips past the tight ring of muscle the feral sound from deep in your chest nearly matches his.

Panting open mouthed you hold him there before rising up, slowly, slowly, letting him slip out of you before sinking down to take him back in. You feel weightless beneath the obsidian glint in his eyes as he watches you repeat the motion again, and again, his arms helping you move as you start to shake from the effort of riding just the head of his cock.

Even now there’s something warm and urgent drawing your hand lower, and you’re unable to help feeling pleased when his eyes go heavy as his gaze follows your fingers down to where they press against your clit.

“So..needy.” he rumbles. “Better than I imagined.”

“You..imagined?” You pant, attempting to sound coy, but your words are thick with lust as you continue to roll your hips, forcing yourself down further down his length.

Your movements are becoming less controlled now, and when your fingers slip and brush against his shaft you whimper at how fucking big he feels where he's stretching you open, and how much of him is still outside of you.

You can feel every slick ridge and vein beneath your hand, and as you slide it along his length the muscles of his thighs tense and flex beneath you, his breathing going rough as your messy strokes continue.

“Look at you taking my cock,” Klaw grits, the demon’s hips beginning to stutter up in short, sharp thrusts. “Such a good little pet.”

His words trail into a low growl that vibrates through your body as you feel a hard throb beneath your hand, and then heat.

You gasp, continuing to writhe as he spills into you, coating your inner walls with his thick seed, and almost you feel as though you could come again just from the heat of it.

Fuck, you need more of that.

Need it deeper.

Even as the pulsing beneath your fingers slows he doesn't stop moving, finally coming inside of you seeming only to have tipped his need to fevered desire. Holding you in place he thrusts up harder, dislodging your hand, and you can feel his spend leaking out of you, dripping down the insides of your thighs and slicking his still hard cock as he continues to drive deeper, no longer letting you set the pace.

“This is what you wanted, wasn’t it?” He taunts, voice still a rough half-whisper after his orgasm. “Could feel it when you watched me. Wanted me to fill your little cunt, hmm?”

“Yes.” You let out a growled sob, jealous anger surging through you. ”That..thing, doesn’t fucking deserve it.”

A flame crackles in Klaw’s eyes at your heated words, and you wonder with a jolt of awareness whether he hasn’t been just as desperate for this as you have, longing for you as he remained trapped in the torment of a cold, unfeeling machine. Driven purely by instinct, chasing his release over and over again but never being truly satisfied.

The sudden realization that you could give that to him floods you with almost as much pleasure as the agony of being filled with his cock.

You’ve barely processed the thought when you suddenly find yourself with your back once again pressed against the cool metal of the table, Klaw only pulling out of you briefly before thrusting back in, harder.

He continues a slow, controlled rhythm, both of you panting hard as you feel yourself softening around him, becoming more pliant as your body relents to every stroke until with a final arching rock of his hips your cunt is completely stretched and full, everything so impossibly tight that you can’t even clench around him.

He's never felt anything quite like you, the achingly tight grip of your pussy leaving him nearly breathless as he holds himself as deep as he can, huffing and grunting like a bull while he watches you writhe and spasm beneath him.

Then he starts to fuck you.

He tries to keep his strokes firm and measured at first, but he can’t hold back anymore and it's not long before his chest is heaving, lips curled in a snarl, and it feels as though you're being split open as he pulls you back onto his cock in time to meet every thrust.

A scarlet thread runs through every cell of your soft animal body, stringing tighter and tighter as pleasure builds to the edge of breaking but then surging higher, a fresh ecstasy building on every peak.

The tightening grip around your waist signals the absolute loss of his control and when you hiss at the sudden piercing bite of his claws he moves his hands to brace on the table instead, his broad body forcing your legs back towards your shoulders as he leans down over you, driving his cock as deep as he can get into your willing heat until he’s grunting and drooling above you.

A divine bliss slides through your veins as you lie beneath him, caught between the trammel of his arms, and as you watch his base instinct take over you begin to understand that only fools could believe that lust is a sin.

And even if it was, even if you were offered perfect grace in this moment, you know with absolute certainty that you would refuse.

An infernal dam is finally swelling to breaking as you surrender to every relentless thrust of his cock, your wailed sobs the only sounds you can make as an impossible pressure ripples through your core, and with a deep throb you suddenly feel a drenching heat as your release washes over his cock and your thighs.

“There you go.” Klaw growls. “Make a mess for me, little one.”

This seems to be his final undoing, and as you continue to soak his cock his thrusting goes ragged until with rough groan he’s coming deep inside you, stilling himself to keep the head of his cock pressed against the deepest part of you, making sure that you feel every hot, throbbing pulse of his cum as it fills you.

Keeping himself seated deep he rocks slow grinding thrusts into the slippery mess he’s made of his you, the lust that’s had no real outlet finally finding satisfaction in the way your clenching cunt is milking his cock, in the gentle swell of your belly as he pumps you full of his seed.

You’re a sweaty, twitching mess beneath him, and as much as you wish you could you’re unable to take all of it, can’t help how it spills out around his cock where you’re stretched and sore, how his cum and yours drips down your swollen sex to pool beneath you on the table.

His hands don't stop moving over your body, cupping your breasts, grasping at you hips, sliding over the ripe swell of you where he can feel you filled with his cock and his cum. Vaguely aware of soft grunts mixed with mumbled praise, you don’t register what he’s saying at first through the haze of euphoria.

“Going to be mine.” he rumbles, between languorous strokes. ”My little queen.”

“Mine.”

* * * * * * *

The room is warm and flickering, silken sheets decadent beneath your fingers, your body thrumming with a heated anticipation that never seems to fade, now.

Rough hands lift your hips as your demon mounts you from behind, a hand placed firmly between your shoulder blades, pressing you down into the mattress.

A panting whine slides from your throat as he spreads you open, the thick head of his cock prodding your entrance, pleased to see you’re still dripping with his seed from the last time he filled you. And he doesn’t like leaving you empty for very long.

“Say it again, little one.” Klaw growls softly, holding himself still. Waiting.

“Yours.”

You sigh, a smile curling around the word as he pushes into you.

“I’m yours.”

A/N: As ever, thank you for reading! This was definitely a bit outside my comfort zone, but I hope you enjoyed this filthy little foray into monster fuckery. 😊

#monster x f reader #demon x f reader #demon!klaue #ulysses klaue x reader #ulysses klaw x reader #x reader #monster fucking #demon fucking #ulysses klaue smut #ulysses klaue #fanfiction

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vivalas-vega · 1 year ago

Note

Hello again! It's Syd 🥰🩷

I sent an ask a few days ago but I just saw your post about sending more so here I am! (& good luck on your journey quitting vape, you got this!! 🩷)

Here's an idea:

(Could be with bob, nat, jake, roost, it's up to you really) Reader just got home from work and starts rambling about work gossip with her partner while getting undressed to take a shower. The partner stops paying attention to the story as she lifts her shirt and takes off her pants, ogling at the brand new set of lingerie they had never seen her wearing before.

Reader is busy walking around the room gathering her skin care products & pajamas while going off on a tangent about a particularly annoying coworker. Noticing her partner isn't responding, she playfully asks "are you even paying attention to what I'm saying?", finally turning to find her lover on the edge of the bed with a dreamy look on their slightly flushed face, reaching for her as they ask "is that a new set...?"

Could be just fluffy with a hint of suggestive or smutty😌 feel free to change it anyway you want it!

hello !!! thank you so much for sending this request in and I'm so sorry that it took me an unreasonable amount of time to post !!! but, my first Bob fic ! this just screamed Bob to me, I took some creative liberties but I hope I did your request justice!

focus / bob floyd x reader

word count: 1k (short and sweet!)

warnings: a little spicy at the end but otherwise pretty pg-13!

“Bob, you home?” you asked, shutting the front door behind you as you dropped your keys in the bowl and slipped out of your heels and coat. Excitement had been radiating throughout your body, threatening to rattle you apart from the inside out the entire drive home. You were sitting on a rather juicy piece of intel you’d been counting down the seconds to be able to share with your partner… the first and usually only person you told anything and everything.

“Bedroom, honey!” You heard him call out and you raced down the hallway, bursting into the room with sheer glee written all over your face. “Good day at work?” he asked, amusement creeping into his tone.

“No, not at all actually. Remember that case I’ve been working on I regretfully cannot tell you anything about? Client withheld something major and I spent the entirety of my day reworking the whole thing… after I’d just done that yesterday.”

“Then what has you so excited?” He watched as you took off your watch and earrings, delicately placing them in their respective homes atop your dresser. The book he’d been reading was abandoned the second he heard your voice echo throughout your shared home. If you were even remotely in his presence there was nothing else that could hold his focus, not that he would have wanted anything else to take precedence over you anyways.

“So, in the break room today I overheard something I definitely wasn’t supposed to, regarding a certain coworker and her husband.” you started, eyebrows raised as you watched the excitement on his face mirror your own as he shifted down the bed to listen with rapt attention.

“Please tell me this is about Denise,” he almost begged. This particular saga of workplace drama was a personal favorite of you two.

“Oh, is it ever. She was on the phone with her husband in very hushed tones arguing about the pick up and drop off schedule for their kids when she suddenly said ‘this has nothing to do with him’.” you continued, placing your blazer in the hamper.

“Him, as in the kids tutor, right?” he asked and you nodded.

“Mmhm,” you confirmed. “But the real pièce de résistance of this story is who made an impromptu stop by the office today… with flowers.” You’d already discarded your silk camisole and were sliding your favorite slacks off… a beautiful shade of emerald green fitted perfectly to your body before flaring out and creating the illusion your legs were a mile long. They weren’t just your favorite though, and you were completely unaware of the way Bob’s eyes tracked their movement down your curves into their puddle on the floor where you bent over to pick them up and he suddenly felt as if the room had gotten warmer.

“Is that so?” he asked, while his attention was hung on your every word a few moments ago, if you’d asked him any follow up questions on what you’d just said he’d have no response… he was far more interested in the black lace adorning your body, particularly in the fact that it was unrecognizable to him.

“Mmhm,” you hummed again, still blind to the way your boyfriend was looking at you as you moved around the room, lost in your after-work routine of shedding your work persona before your shower. “It’s as if she’s unaware of the fact that we all know, or maybe she is aware and just doesn’t care. It’s incredibly ballsy. You know, I actually like her husband, of course I know nothing of their home life and I know better than anyone the public façade can be polar opposite from the reality behind closed doors but he does seem like one of the good ones.” You’d paused for his response, expecting agreement or a snarky quip but when you were met with silence you turned around to find his eyes far lower than you anticipated. “Bob? Are you even listening to me?” you asked, pretending to be annoyed but really you were anything but as you saw the lovesick look on his face.

His head snapped up, eyes wide like a man caught, “sorry sweetheart, I just… is this a new set?” he asked, swallowing harshly as his hands reached out and caught your hips, tugging you to stand in between his legs. He was looking up at you with pure adoration, the kind that knocked all the air from your lungs and rendered you almost speechless. Your first meeting by chance at the Hard Deck all those months ago had done nothing to prepare you for the man before you… timid glances and bashful smiles, earnest conversation and a chaste kiss to your cheek after walking you to your car. There was nothing timid or bashful about him now, nothing chaste about the way his fingers trailed up your sides, leaving goosebumps in their wake as his eyes raked your form, fire burning within those blue eyes.

“It might be,” you teased, moving to straddle his thighs and his arms were quick to cage themselves around you, locking you in place and keeping you from falling backwards.

“And you expect me to give a damn about Denise when you’re parading around this room looking like this?” he asked, pressing kisses along the column of your neck.

You gripped his jaw, pulling his face back and forcing him to look at you. “You’re damn right I do.” you shot back, a mischievous smirk tugging at the corners of your lips.

“My apologies, ma’am, but I’m afraid your beauty is a bit distracting.” he replied, pulling your hand away and kissing the inside of your wrist. “Besides… I think my attention would be better served elsewhere.” he added before continuing his path up your arm and to your collarbone where you couldn’t help but tilt your head back, a soft sigh falling from your lips.

“I think you might be right,” you agreed, tangling your fingers in his hair and pulling his head back to press your lips to his. The previous topic was entirely forgotten now with your excitement channeled directly towards the man beneath you… the one person you wanted to share everything with and the one person who could make you gladly abandon anything and everything for.

taglist: @callsignspirit @thegodessc @failuretothrivestuff @olliepig @cruelmissdior @underaveragefangirl @grxcieluvr @amatswimming @camilaricci @nolita-fairytale @dempy @pinkpantheris @aviatorobsessed @tiredqueen73 @pono-pura-vida @binnieslove @nik2blog @waklman @abaker74 @halstead-severide-fan @percysaidnever @memeorydotcom @eli2447 @dumb-fawkin-bitch @Genius2050 @stargazer-88 @chloeforde @kmc1989 @casa-boiardi (if your name is struck through it means I couldn't tag you, sorry!)

#bob floyd #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd x you #bob floyd fan fiction #bob floyd fanfiction #robert floyd #robert floyd x reader #robert floyd x you #robert floyd fan fiction #robert floyd fanfiction #bob floyd fluff #robert floyd fluff #top gun maverick #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fan fiction #top gun

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writingshushf1 · 2 years ago

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A request where Felipe accompanies you for swim suit shopping for bikini before summer break. Can turn it to smut if you want

Itsy Bitsy Teenie Weenie Yellow Polka Dot Bikini

Summary: shopping for a bikini with your boyfriend.

Rating: +18

Warnings: explicit !!!! oral (f! recieving ), p with very small plot, PURE FILFTH

Word count: 0.7k

Notes: small smutty drabble with a song that really matches it AKSDSKASDKSK. idk if any of you know this song, however i used to listen A LOT when I was a kid and it just popped on my mind after the request and i HAD TO put the song for my brazilian readers (which I'm sure I have some) for everyone just have a nostalgia moment

masterlist

Felipe and you had been dating for a few months, and he had been excited to accompany me on my swimsuit shopping trip. Being from Brazil, he was used to seeing women in all sorts of swimwear, but he had never been with someone who was shopping for a bikini for the first time - when he was younger, he just let his mom do all the summer buying for him.

You browsed through several stores, trying on different styles and colors, but nothing seemed to catch your eye, they were either too loose or too blunt. Then we came across a bright yellow polka dot bikini that looked both pretty and playful. You hesitated for a moment while the Brazilian’s soft brown eyes widened in surprise, it was perfect.

"That's...really small," you said hesitantly.

Drugovich rolled his eyes, giving you a kiss on your cheek. "It's a bikini, amor. They're supposed to be small."

You sighed loudly, okay, this one was going to try it out. As you put it on the revealing bikini, you felt self-conscious and shy. However, it fits like a dream, hugging your curves in all the right places, giving a beautiful vision of your ass and the size of the top was big enough to cover your nipples only. When you stepped out of the changing room, your cheeks turned bright red out of shame, on the other hand, Felipe’s eyes widened in surprise and admiration, but he didn't say anything to make me feel uncomfortable. He discreetly licked his lips, the sight of your almost naked body in front of him stirred his feelings - and another place too, which was already a little awake because of what the Brazilian's eyes were focused on. Drugovich stood, walking over to you and placing both hands on your hips, depositing small kisses on your shoulder.

“Gostosa. I won't be able to hold myself together every time I see you in that little bikini" Covering her with his own body, his hand moved down to her ass, squeezing it lightly.

"Take this one, please. I'll pay for it."

"You don't have to pay, I'll take it. It was the only one that looked good anyway... Even though it was too small for my taste."

"It's not too small, it shows everything I love about you..." He murmured against her skin, discreetly running his hand over the fabric that covered your core.

"We're in public, love."

"Then pay up and let's go."

In less than ten minutes you were dressed again, paid for the bikini, and already you were in the mall car park, him in the driver's seat, in a hurry to get home.

You deliberately left your legs more spread and the summer dress was already halfway down your thighs, which was making the driver crazy. He barely waited after parking the car, picking you up and rushing inside, where he laid your body against the sofa.

“Someone's desperate.”

“Sorry, amor… Just… seeing you in that very small bikini that hangs on your body so well made me all messy.”

“Oh and what do you want to do?”

“Have patience and you’ll see.”

Drugovich kissed you quickly, soon pulling your panties down and laying down on the sofa, pulling you to sit on his chest, hesitantly, you pulled your dress higher and moved your body towards his face, standing a little taller, afraid to suffocate him, yet as you felt his arms hooking around your thighs and making you sit down against his face, gave you more assurance.

A whimper escaped your lips when his tongue lapped against your clit, treating it well, giving all the attention you needed - the bikini situation had also left you horny, with the thought of being fucked by him wearing it. The feeling of his tongue working up against you was something outstanding - even more when he started to suck your core for a few seconds, making your legs shake in pleasure.

As you were getting closer and closer to your orgasm, slower his movements would be, like he was making some torture for you to be able to hold it for longer. However, as much as he wanted you to stay like that forever, your body was screaming for a release, so in a few minutes you were having an orgasm against his mouth.

With your worked out body, you pulled off and sat on his lap, seeing the bottom half of his face glistening because of you. Felipe cracked a smile, holding your waist.

“I can’t wait until you wear that bikini, I won’t be able to hold myself.”

“I can’t wait either.”

#felipe drugovich x you #felipe drugovich x reader #felipe drugovich #felipe drugovich fanfiction #felipe drugovich x y/n #felipe drugovich smut #fd34 #fd11 #felipe drugovich drabble #f1 imagine #f1 smut #f1 one shot #f1 fanfiction #f1 x you #aston martin f1

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undertale-fic-librarby · 8 days ago

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Hi, how are you? Do you have any Kustard fanfics? But if possible, some that aren't explicit?

Howdy, thanks for asking! Here are some fics that might fit what you're looking for!

Smoke in the Mirror by Catsitta (Mature, Incomplete)

Red is no stranger to doing whatever it takes to stay alive. First Underground and now in this kill-or-be-killed city. He's done it all, from smuggling illegal goods to killing Don Dreemur's enemies on command, to carve out out a reputation for himself. So how in the Angel's name did this no LV piece of FreeExp come to be so close to Lady Dreemur and her kid? Mob!Kustard | Slowburn | Rating has risen

Justice is BLIND to evil doing UNSPEAKable acts of kindness by Anjel_X (Mature, Incomplete)

When a horrible event happens to one unfortunate AU, their saviors end up being the last people one would expect... Why would the bad guys do such an act of kindness... and is there more to it than that... they'll just have to hope a certain Trio doesn't give them a Bad Time™ in the process... A Kustard fic with an unexpected twist in the form of a Nightmarish poly of miscreants My Secret Santa Gyftfic for fellow Kustard and pun lover, the SANSational Silverryu!

Sins of the Lazy (Discontinued) by orphan_account (Teen And Up, Incomplete)

High School AU. Red is a delinquent student who has been just barely skating by... until he's accused of cheating by a new teacher, and things get a little ugly. Sans is a Straight-A student who needs volunteer hours in order to graduate and enter the college of his dreams. The arrangement is supposed to be beneficial to both of them... but are their temperaments too different for it to work? [note that i'm currently editing the tense of this fic, so tense may vary from chapter to chapter. i know it's a lil weird, please bear with me ^^;]

Sometimes Kindness is enough by LauraarualC (Not Rated, Complete)

Sans was quite happy with his life : he was living on the surface, he didn't go through genocide routes, had a caring brother, good friends, no resets. Yes, he would have never changed his life for anything in the world. Then how did this happen? Kustard in the flowerfell universe! Warning : contains violence, violent deaths, violent languages, violent gestures, swearing and some smutty elements !

Color-Coded by AnonS28 (Not Rated, Incomplete)

Red woke up in a really fucked-up state. He was suffering from a hangover, lying in Grillby's dumpster, and he likely couldn't even make it home on his own. How could life get any worse? He found the answer to that question the moment Grillby stepped into the alleyway. His life was about to get a hell of a lot more complicated.

#fic rec #fic recommendation #ao3 fic recs #utmv #classic sans #fell sans #classic x fell #kustard #not suitable for minors #ask #mod sleepy

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multiwreckedmess · 2 years ago

Text

No Reason, One

Synopsis - Vaxxed, waxed, and ready to well...you know how the saying goes. That was supposed to be your motto. Unfortunately, you were never that kind of girl.

Pairing - Mingi x fem!Reader (reader gets called a girl and has a vagina)

CW - Smut. Alcohol. Partying. Anxiety. An additional TW under the cut.

Word Count - 3.4k~ (This part)

This is sort of an angsty multi part smutty thing I started writing this past spring and I am oddly attached to it. I’ll post the other parts later as I clean them up. it’s been across like 2 computers and 2 word processors so sorry for any of the formatting/grammar fallout from that.

TW: Sex does not go all that well, not sure how to tag it but basically reader has some issues around anxiety which translate to the bedroom. There’s a lil shame involved with it but I promise Mingi is real sweet about it.

It was another cold grey January morning when you saw him. Wishes for a white Christmas had gone unanswered and all that was left was a damp chill the seeped through your winter jacket. He was laughing with his friend, similarly tall and handsome, waiting at the corner for cars to pass so they could cross.

There is absolutely no reason to miss you.

A phrase you had repeated often these last couple months whenever you felt a pang in your heart and lump in your throat. Yours was an ill-fated relationship from the start -- always hooking up but never crystalizing into anything real. The two of you had met shortly after clubs had reopened while you were out with your mutual friend, San. You'd been hesitant at first to go out, but the promise of skin-to-skin contact was too much for your touch starved body to ignore.

"This is Mingi!" San had to shout through his mask and over the thrumming bass as he pulled his tall friend to you by the wrist. "I think you two would like each other!" Mingi was tall, dressed in fitted black slacks, a half unbuttoned white dress shirt concealing his chest just enough to be maddening. Even without seeing his entire face you’d bet on him being stunning. Besides, you'd never seen San with an unattractive friend. Peeking over his mask you could see his eyes crinkle into half-moons, body shifting back and forth to the rhythm. By the time you’ve managed to introduce yourselves to each other over the thudding bass San’s already ventured off with Wooyoung in search of shots for the group. Feeling bold, you danced closer, placing your hand on his torso. Mingi takes the hint, slipping an arm around your waist, his hand resting at the small of your back, guiding you even closer, lower torso nearly touching. Well-mannered and handsome, it felt like San had dropped a life raft into your lap and flitted off into the smog of the dimly lit dance floor. Intoxicated by the mood lighting and emboldened by a couple of drinks, your hand migrates to his shoulder, using it to stabilize a couple attempts at bodyrolls before dropping your head against his chest, shyness winning out. Pressed to him like this you can feel his body shake with laughter better than you can hear him. Tapping your shoulder, he stoops slightly to meet your eyeline, eyes crinkled with joy, faux fanning himself before spinning you into him, hands at your hips, torsos now smashed together. This was how people danced together, he’s good, you though.

Fuck he was good. Was good. Operative was. Not is.

Lost in old memories, your back hits the seat as the bus accelerates, crashing back to present reality, stomach dropping. He looked just as happy as ever, just as happy as the night you’d met. Did he have someone finally? How many new numbers had been added to his contacts? Surely he hadn’t sat around the entire time waiting to see if you’d changed your mind. You wouldn’t have if it had happened to you like that. If you started crying then no one would notice, or if they did, they wouldn’t say anything, you’d be far from the first person to cry on public transit. No, you weren’t going to cry. You didn’t mean for this hookup to happen. The two of you were never even a real couple, just a bundle of possibilities and could haves. Breathe.

There is absolutely no reason to miss you.

Mingi led you through a dark hallway, past the bathrooms, through a velvet curtain, and finally emerging out onto the concrete of a small alleyway. Tinged red and yellow by the safety lights you remove your masks in full. In this halo of light, he pushed his sweat-slicked bangs back you could finally see him; strong nose, sculpted chin, and pouty lips quickly breaking into a wide smile, "another check for San" you thought wryly. Seeing each other mask-less felt surprisingly intimate, heart fluttering, both of you standing awkwardly for a second, sizing each other up. Alcohol suddenly heavy in your stomach and lack of momentum hits you in the back of the knees and you stumble on nothing, teetering back and forth in slow motion. To his credit, Mingi attempts to catch you but you both go backwards towards the wall, his hand cushioning the back of your head from the concrete bricks. “Oops-sorry-I-uhm-” you stutter, his face closer than anyone’s had been since the start of the pandemic. “Sorry–” he overlaps your stuttering with his own, whipping from suave man to schoolboy in an instant. You giggle. He’s flushed. “You’re so cute.” A flash of sobriety passes between you, seeing each other, really seeing each other, for the first time that night. Butterflies bloom in your gut as your eyes take a long drink before your brain gently reminds you how impolite it is to stare. “Is that it?” He tilts his head to the side, eyes looking to meet yours. “You’re tall.” You hide beneath your lashes. “Is that it?” “…and handsome…”

He grins, suddenly keenly aware of how close he is your breathing becomes erratic, you can feel the thrum of the bass through the brick overwriting your racing heartbeat. His gaze is intense enough to tie your tongue in place. “…and?”

You hadn't intended to hook up with anyone that first night out at the club, but intentions have a funny way of flying out the window once enough alcohol is introduced. Practically sprinting up two flights of stairs to keep up with Mingi's long legs, you’re breathless, watching him fumble in his pockets for his keys. As he unlocks the door he clumsily wraps an arm around you, maneuvering your back to the door and leaning in for a kiss. You jiggle the doorknob and in a flash the both of you are crashing your way over the threshold, laughing like idiots. "Honey, I'm home!" He yelled into the darkness still chuckling, earning a slap on his bicep, a dim entry light flickering on as the door snapped shut behind you. "For the record--I'm a certified bachelor...if you were worried." "I'm not worried! It just wasn't as funny as you thought it was." You pout. "Maybe I'll be funnier with my dick tickling your cervix." His lips curving into a half smile as your jaw drops with a sharp gasp. "MINGI! Is that a threat?" "Mmmh," he hums, sizing you up briefly before wrapping you up in his embrace, “I'd like to think it's more of a promise.” You don’t have time to think as his forearms drop under your ass, hoisting you up. Perhaps he had intended for eye level but overestimating in some regard your breasts smash into his face instead. Both of you explode into laughter as he buries his face in your chest, nose smashing against your sternum. A blink of nervous energy pulses between you. It’s the first time you think ‘oh we’re going to do this’ and it sends a shiver up your spine. Nerves nearly overtake need as you look down into his eyes. He's so handsome, brows, cheekbones, chin, lips-- with eyes staring up at you like you’re the brightest star in the sky, you almost feel special.

A sudden jerk of the bus sends you hurtling forward. How many stops had it been? You pull the cable to stop and the bus slows at the sleepy corner of your street. Again, your stomach flips, guilt settling in the pit like a stone. You needed to stop your memories there. You did not need to remember this. There was no reason to spend time thinking about the snapshots of another failed situationship. Well, there was at least one reason to replay these moments over and over. The sick ritual of self-hatred that would spring from the smallest moments, punishing yourself for letting your feelings get the better of you. Something about how your heart seemed to swallow itself felt deserved. You shouldn't have been shocked to see him out and about. In fact you should've expected it sooner; social circles overlapped, neighborhoods shared grocery stores. Had Mingi uprooted his life like you had in the wake of your scrawled note? The aftereffects of the ticking bomb you’d left on his counter. You’d done what you could to avoid him, quietly adjusting your life around what you knew of his. It meant no more nights out, not with San for sure, nor Wooyoung, nor Yeosang. Not that any of them knew what had happened between you and Mingi. Not that anything had really happened.

There was absolutely no reason to miss him.

Blinded by excitement the two of you bumped your way to the bed, clothes discarded haphazardly. Mingi latched to your chest, face mashed into one breast, large hand palming the other. Both of you grind against each other feverishly. Mingi is messy, sucking harshly at your nipple, earning a pleased groan. The attention he lavishes on your chest and neck has your hands grappling to his hips to pull him to you, mad at any loss of pressure. So close. You are so close. You miss time a thrust against him and he slips down towards your entrance, losing the much needed contact and denying your release. Understandable and regrettable. “Fuck–shit–condom–” Mingi mutters between gasps, bucking against you involuntarily, bumping clumsily into your cunt. He flings himself to the other side of the bed dramatically, practically tearing himself away from you. A motion made more dramatic by his sheer height and limb length. You hear him rustling in the drawer of his bedside table, finally fishing out a telltale foil packet and ripping it open. The loss of contact, momentum towards your goal, it’s frustrating. He’s a little frustrating. You’re a little drunk and the world is wavy. Eyes rolling with your head to the side you search for him in the low light. Even silhouetted in the dark you can tell he’s big, erection jutting proudly from his torso. “You’re very…proportional,” you manage to slur out, propped up on your elbows, watching him clamber back to kneel between your legs. He exhales a small chuckle, gripping your thighs he pulls you to him, lower half draped over him, covered cock resting against your stomach. He slides sloppily along your slit, until he finds your entrance, leaning over you to kiss your sternum again. Pangs of anxiety shoot through your body and you squeeze your eyes shut tightly. It’s been a minute. And he’s big. You can feel the pressure in your lower half and try to calm yourself. Meanwhile he tries to push into your slowly but he meets immediate resistance. Just what you were so afraid of. You reach down to help, massaging some of the fluid and lube around to try to ease the tension. He tries again, your body involuntarily scoots from him with a whimper.

“Fuck-you’re so tight,” he pants into your chest, chuckling nervously. “S–sorry. Been a while,” you try to laugh casually, breathing deeply into your diaphragm, attempting to relax your pelvic muscles. Relax, relax, relax, even though the word doesn’t help you repeat it. You were worried this would happen. Somehow you knew this would happen. You want to throw up from the anxiety of this happening. Mingi reaches down between your thighs, adjusting himself and brushing his finger tips against your clit momentarily. He gives a third go. Pressure, burning. You grimace and groan, tugging away from him again, unable to fight the instinct from the pain of the stretch of his cock breaching your walls. He’s already pulling away from you as your hands scrabble to his hips, sitting back on his haunches, huffing. You half sigh half groan, frustrated, a hot wave of embarrassment floods your cheeks. “Hey it’s fine I don’t want to for–” “I want to I swear it’s just been–” Words scrabble over each other as nerves prickle. “Sorry,” Mingi’s voice is soft and low as his thumbs work small circles into your hips, waiting for you to speak. He’s so sweet and you feel so stupid, so inadequate, you can feel your thoughts spiraling. Watching your brows knit together, Mingi leaves a little peck on your knee. “You still with me?” You take a second to attempt to temporarily sober up, looking up at the ceiling. “I want to–I need you to stretch me a bit–it’s been a year…or more…since anything has been in…in me.” Your eyes fixed upwards, unable to look at him for fear you’ll disintegrate on the spot out of embarrassment. “I’m sorry,” you whisper, defeated. “It’s okay,” he pauses, bashful, “it’s actually kinda hot. You know. That I’m big…like that…for you.” Tension in your chest turns to a giggle, your hands still tugging at your cheeks. “I’m just frustrated. I want to get fucked” you yell into the dark apartment, “and my FUCKING pussy won’t LET ME.” Mingi laughs, a laugh that shakes his entire body. “Let me try again. If you want.” Eyes squeezed shut you nod furiously. The bed dips as he leans back over you. Lips meeting your shoulder, his hand cups your pussy, heel of his palm grinding into your clit, middle finger working between your folds. A second finger joins in caressing you, exploring, waiting for your core to suck him in. Grinding down on him, your hips rock against his hand, mirroring his motions. Thighs shaking under him you gasp and moan as your walls flutter, heavy barrier finally relenting, a single digit pulled in. Your arousal spreading down your buttocks he slides ever more easily against you. “See? You’re doing so well,” Mingi’s pace is steady and slow, finger crooking upwards against your wall, searching for the soft spot within your walls. As he passes over it you let out a small whimper, legs tensing and feet pressing against the mattress. He smiles at you and sighs contentedly, planting a kiss on your forehead, a second finger breaching your cunt. “P-please,” boldly you reach for him, wrapping your hand around his still condomed cock, pumping him in time with his ministrations. His free hand wraps around yours, guiding it off him and onto the bed. “You first.” His fingers intertwined with yours, pinning the hand down despite it being slick with lube. It’s a little cheesy, a little goofy, but sweet. Sweet of him to care. Sweet of him to focus like that. The word sweet floats in your mind like a hallucination as your eyelids flutter. Mingi’s face is so close to yours there is no way he missed it. Propping his thumb near your clit he rubs you in soft circles, stalling his fingers. Core fluttering you squirm, bucking upwards.

You quickly stutter out his name, eyes locking with his, a warning. Heat and blood rushing south you could feel the pulsing need growing and growing inside of you. He groans as your cunt clenches down around his fingers. Slick sounds echo in your brain as Mingi replaces his thumb with is palm for you to rut against. Movements become sloppy and needy as he speeds up, his eagerness overtaking him completely. “You gonna cum?” He sounds assured, prideful, a little out of breath. Lips sealed tightly you let out a small affirmative “mhm” before you feel your eyelids flicker, eyes crossing, unable to tamp down the whimpers and sighs you’d previously muzzled and let die in your throat. Mingi slows as he feels you shudder, squeezing his hand with yours. Walls gripping and releasing against him he stills inside of you, softly circling the heel of his palm against you before withdrawing his fingers. “How’s my girl?” His other hand slips from holding yours, pushing away from your body to admire his work. “Real fucking good.” You crack open an eye, glancing at his still erect cock, subconsciously biting your lower lip. “Eager…” “Do you blame me?” Both of you laugh. “I don’t suppose I do.” Despite having worked up to three fingers you gasp as he pushes the tip of his cock into you, all concentration going into breathing and relaxing. Lips lightly grazing your neck, you can feel him murmuring to you but are unable to pick out any words. He guides the two of you together slowly, thumb working circles around your clit. The pressure from being so full, mixed with remnants of alcohol, made your head spin. Bottoming out the two of you groan in unison. “I’m in.” He’s panting, a grunt escaping his throat. “I fucking know.” You say through gritted teeth. The stretch is mind-blowing, worth the effort and wait. Reaching down you can feel how taut you are around his shaft as you aimlessly graze your fingertips along your clit.

“Give me a sec,” he closes his eyes and exhales. “Fuck you’re tight.” Inhaling, he pulls his hips back slightly, shallowly thrusting against you, sending your mind blasting into a haze. He eyes trained on where you connect, he watches himself disappear inside of you, how your walls hug him so closely. It feels strange to be so appreciated. A small part of you curls up and hides in shame. The larger part thrives on how mesmerized the man is, how shamelessly he explores you. Core thrumming he continues grinding deeply into you, reveling in your gasps and moans. Newfound cockiness flooding his system, the switch flips back from messy needy boy to confident lover, as though the entire failed attempt had never happened. An arm wraps under your knee he presses you further into the bed, the new angle drags his cockhead against your walls deliciously, feeling even more full than before. You beg -it feels appropriate- being at the mercy of the snap of his hips. His rhythm of short forceful strokes pins you to the bed and forces groans from you. Mingi buries his face in your neck, hot breath mixing with sweat, arms pinning you, making you feel so small in comparison. Tense and release, the throb of orgasms ripping down your spine almost painfully. Chest tight, unable to bob above the waves, your hands clamber at his back, gripping onto his sides, knees hooking onto his waist.

“Fuck- you’re clenching- I’m going to cum.” His pace became more franetic, hips snapping into you, blood rushing to your head like a roaring train. If he has much more in him you aren’t sure you can take it, small pricks of blackness darting across your vision. With a groan he spills into the condom, your hips still rutting, walls pulsing around him. The sounds of post-sex panting and breathy swearing fill the air.

“Thank you,” you mutter, sound muffled by his shoulder. “No. Thank you.” He is collapsed slightly around you, holding you to him, your sweaty sticky bodies become fully enmeshed - peaceful and protected - together. All moments must come to an end, this one does as well with Mingi sliding from you gently as the blood redistributed throughout his body. “You did so well.” He pats your lower stomach happily, before wobbling to the bathroom. A nice straight shot to there, you noted, just in case you needed to throw up. “Do you want me to help you or–” he yelled, the sound of running water cutting him off. “No!” You hastily lift yourself from the sheets, wishing you could just roll over and go to bed. Hoisting yourself up your legs threaten to give out below you as you trundle to the bathroom after him.

A large glass of water and some ibuprofen sat waiting for you, Mingi already fully wrapped up in blankets, snoring gently. “Could’ve left a shirt for pjs at least,” you thought wryly, popping open the pill bottle and chugging the water. It was your first mistake, you should’ve left then and there, hitching a cab home and sleeping in your own bed. Instead, you got into the sheets and curled yourself against his back, nose pressed to his spine, closing your eyes, just for a second you told yourself. At worst a couple hours. “I’ll wake up early and leave.”

There was absolutely no reason you should’ve stayed.

#ateez smut #mingi smut #song mingi smut #mingi x fem!reader #mingi x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez x you #mingi x you #ateez angst #angst and smut #daylight savings is sad girl hours i'm sorry ya'll will need to deal with it

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delta-lethonomia · 9 months ago

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Asking!!! How about 7, 11, and 20??

Oooh! For my fic "For All The Wrong Reasons" (not that I currently have anything else published, but future proofing haha)

7. What inspired the idea for the plot?

Astarion's Act 2 romance scene, after the conversation with Araj Oblodra where they player can offer to have a relationship with him without sex for as long as he needs. It's a sweet scene but it made me stop and stare at the screen for minutes. I wasn't playing myself in BG3, but I had to ask myself - would I be okay with a sexless relationship? Would my character? And the answer was no.

Having been in relationships with very unbalanced libidos, it fucking sucks. Strong female sexual desire gets treated as unimportant or even a bit of a joke in media, so I wanted to write a character who'd get to that scene and have the maturity to say "hey, I really like you and I want this to work, but not having sex is going to be a problem for me". Of course, now that I've actually made it to that scene in my fanfic it turned out very different hahaha!

11. Was there a scene that you hadn't originally planned to include? Why did you decide to fit it in?

Tons of the recent eldritch horror stuff. I wanted Tav's patron to be the Great Old One from the beginning (as that's what I played in my first run), but in the manual that particular relationship is described as warlocks stealing power from an unknowing being. I needed Tav to have a firm contract for plot reasons but that's not really possible if one party doesn't know the other exists. So the GOO/Cthulu-esque being needs to know of Tav in some way, but I also wanted to make it clear that that's a very bad thing.

Becoming a Warlock is supposed to be something only the most power-hungry, arrogant, or foolish individuals do, because you're basically selling your soul or sanity for power. It's important characterization for Tav to show why she chose to go through with it - but therefore, it needs to be appropriately dangerous, disgusting, or violating, so why not all three?

20. What is something you wish more people noticed about this fic?

Ooooof that's a tough one. I guess there's two parts:

a.) The fic started off as a smutty oneshot that grew overtime so I feel it's not really obvious that there's a budding plot in the beginning. I worry that new readers might read the first few chapters and kind of write it off as a toxic dark romance, and not stick around for the way the mystery and romance continue to develop later on.

b.) In the fic, I don't think people have really picked up on just how repressed and depressed Tav is. There's tons of stuff she just doesn't think about. She has no goals, drinks a lot, and has no relationships (even casual friendships) after her husband died over 20 years ago. She's very stagnant. Astarion's a very dynamic character by contrast; he spends time mulling over a new piece of information, emotionally works through it, and then changes over time, while Tav is still stuck on shit that happened decades ago, still having anxiety attacks, still putting up walls and keeping people away.

As one eagle-eyed commenter pointed out, Tav was born to a young teenage mother working as a prostitute, unable to afford a contraceptive. Now, Tav works producing contraceptives for the very same brothel, providing a service that would have prevented herself from being born. That's not a great headspace to be in, and she was certainly not doing it out of the kindness of her heart.

#wrong reasons fic #bg3 fic #fic asks #ask delta #astarion x tav

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thearvariblues · 25 days ago

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Now, how do I explain this. (Bear with me, I'm having a headache from hell and I'm trying very hard to make sense.)

On one hand, it's all about the narrative, you know, and things either fitting into it, or not fitting into it, and also, maybe more importantly, adding to it, or being there only for the hell of it. Basically, it's the difference between "we did this because it felt right" and "we did this because we can so STFU".

I'm gonna risk being labeled as prude (trust me, my AO3 history begs to differ), but in the series I watch, I'm not a big fan of horny just for the sake of horny. Don't get me wrong, I like watching pretty boys (and girls, lets not discriminate) going at it, but I also like it when them going at it has some narrative purpose. When it pushes the characters to a new place in their relationship, when it changes something, when it's important.

"But Arvari, people fuck for fun, you know." Yes, I know. People also play video games for fun, that doesn't mean I need a five-minute-long detailed scene of a character doing it in every episode.

Like, look at KinnPorsche as a series that did it right. There's only a handful of smutty scenes, and most of them aren't even up to today's "standards" of high heat, but each of those scenes is narratively important for establishing the dynamics between the characters. Am I making sense? (But really, am I, because the headache ain't getting better.)

This is basically the reason why I loved LITA (very horny, but also those scenes were there for a reason - though let's face it, I'm talking mostly about the PrapaiSky part of the series) and couldn't stand the special episode (just a lot of fucking with a poor excuse of a plot to glue the fucking scenes together).

And then there's also, of course, the difference in how the scenes are shot in the first place. Every time stupid discourse like this comes up, I remember this quote from Terry Pratchett: "Just erotic. Nothing kinky. It's the difference between using a feather and using a chicken."

Some series, like Century of Love, or (by today's standards, anyway) even KinnPorsche in a way, use feathers. Feathers are pretty much never too much.

Some series, like My Stand-In (my beloved) or Deep Night kinda switch between feathers and chickens, and can be a bit too much for some viewers. (There's one sex scene in MSI that still feels like too much to me, despite all the love I have for the series.)

Some series (sorry, I have no examples left, brain not braining) are purely a chicken territory, and there's nothing wrong with liking those, but there's also nothing wrong with feeling uncomfortable watching it. It's a matter of preference.

And then there are shows (looking at you 4 Minutes), where even the few gifs I've unfortunately seen feel like being whacked over the head with an overfried family-sized KFC bucket.

Hope this helped, though I'm sure it didn't. ✌️

tl;dr I suppose: it's all a matter of preference, so just watch whatever you personally like and stop caring about what other people say. also bitches always gonna find reasons to bitch so ignore those and you'll be much happier (says me, who can't ignore a single bitch ever)

Some bl drama fans when a series is horny at all

The same people when a show isn't

#be on clown

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shblackeagle · 3 years ago

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Bbrae week 2021

Day two: Poolside

Raven wanted to blame curiosity for this.

Living on earth gave Raven many opportunities to explore things she had always been denied. Her mother, Arella, was a human after all and she always wondered about how her life used to be before coming to Azarath. So she most times wondered how living on Earth would be like as a kid, dreaming about seeing it once in her life.

Despite the way Azarathians always treated her, no one could deny that she was half human; humanity was a part of her. So she tried out new things and learnt many things she couldn't even imagine before; Like having coffee, listening to music, shopping, going to supermarkets or even riding a bike.

Perhaps wearing a bikini was a part of that.

Shifting uncomfortably on the pool chair, Raven tried to make sure she wasn't too exposed to her teammates while reading her book under the parasol. The summer sun was so hot and from her experience, she knew it wouldn't end well if she stayed too long under it.

Raven looked at herself. How on earth was it considered clothing? It didn't cover anything! She was basically showing her whole butt to everyone and she knew her nipples were visible through such a thin top. She could have as well be naked and no one would tell the difference.

Looking up from her sunglasses, Raven saw how confidently and comfortably Kory was in her bikini. Raven didn't know how that was possible, but Kory's bikini was even worse than hers; yet the princess found no difficulties showing off her almost naked body.

Raven noted to herself: Next time bring Donna for shopping!

The laughter from the pool caught her attention. Donna, Roy alongside with Garfield and Dick were playing volleyball in the pool, Victor as usual was in charge of the cooking, saying something about he didn't trust anyone with cooking, and Kory was lying under the sun, trying to get tanned; which was questionable to everyone why her of all people.

Raven was sort of glad Kory was comfortable showing so much skin. When Kory was around with her shiny skin, barely people would notice her. It took away all the attention she didn't need.

Well, almost all the attention.

Smash!!

"Oh damn! Gar, you okay man?" Roy said apologetically before swimming towards The Changeling with a worried face who was groaning in pain and holding his nose up.

"Dude! Why would you throw the ball like that?!" Gar snapped at Roy and whined, "Ugh!"

"Sorry man." Roy apologized, "I thought you'd get it."

Dick, holding the said ball in his hand, swam towards Gar, "Don't be such a baby Gar. It was just an accident."

Gar gave him a an annoyed look as Donna approached him.

"Take a moment Gar." She said pointing at where Raven was busy reading with her thumb, "But it's weird how you didn't see the ball coming."

"Yeah exactly. Did you have your head in the clouds?" Dick asked with a smirk.

Before Gar could even open her mouth, Wally who was playing frisbee with himself suddenly stopped running and said, "No not in the clouds," he titled his head to where Raven was sitting, "totally on the earth, probably on a pool chair."

Donna chuckled quietly as Gar looked at Wally with an angry face but he just shrugged and threw the frisbee again to catch it. Putting a hand on Gar's back Dick said, "maybe you should rest for a moment."

Gar nodded and walked to the edge of the pool, hoping Raven didn't notice this embarrassing accident and Wally's stupid remark. Thankfully, she seemed to be in her world.

Raising her head from her book, Raven saw Gar approaching her. She could feel a slight pain from him but his face didn't reveal anything.

"Are you okay?"

Gar stopped near the edge, "yeah...just taking a moment."

Raven nodded and went back to her reading. She saw Gar pressing his back on the edge and rested his arms, looking at the game. Her eyes widened as she took a long, impressed look at his back.

Dick's trainings must have paid off because when did Gar exactly become so muscular? They saw each other everyday so how did she miss his process becoming...that?

"What are you reading?" Gar's head suddenly spun to her and he seemed like he was waiting to ask her that question. Raven thanked Azar she was wearing sunglasses otherwise he would have seen how she was shamelessly staring at his back.

Trying to act normal, she just raised her book so he would read the title on the cover.

"The Witcher?" Gar read the title, "Sounds cool. Let me see!"

Using his arms, Gar pulled himself up from the water, revealing more of his body for Raven to see.

Azar, help her! When did he become like this? Raven tried to remember if she had missed the time he was becoming this muscular without her noticing because she could swear he wasn't like that last time she saw his torso and his arms. Along with his shiny green skin, he was almost impossible not to look at.

He sat on the stool beside her chair and leaned his elbows on his knees to get a better look at what she was reading. Raven could feel the heat coming from his body and suddenly felt it was so hotter than it was a minute ago.

"Guess it's fantasy right?"

Raven nodded without speaking. She couldn't trust her voice when he was this close to her. Looking from her sunglasses, Raven couldn't take her eyes off his body. Water droplets were racing down on his stomach and his wet hair looked so soft and shiny.

Azar, she wanted to touch it! She wanted to feel those muscles under her hands and feel the heat coming from them. She wanted to run her fingers on his skin and play with his hair!

"By the way Rae…" Gar slidded the chair closer to her as Raven could feel the blush on her face. His body was just inches away from hers and Raven couldn't focus on what she seemed to be reading.

"You look... amazing in your new swimsuit."

She could see a shade of blush appearing on his face as he said it. Suddenly, Raven became aware that she was in a bikini, showing her almost naked body to Gar! While he was just an inch away from her!

Holding the book closer to her face, "Thanks."

Gar smiled and took a long look at her legs then looked back at her and Raven just wished she could see if what he was seeing gave him the same feeling.

Did he like what he was seeing?

She hated how she cared about something that stupid. Why would she care about what he thought about her body? It was hers for a good reason.

"Rae…" he whispered.

Looking up from the book, she saw his blushing face. Scratching the back of his head, he opened his mouth.

"I wanted to say-"

"Gar! You're good now for another round?" Dick shouted, "because Wally here doesn't know how to play!"

"Hey I can play! You guys are just too slow!" Wally said in defense.

Sighing in frustration, Gar turned his head to others, "I'll come in a sec!"

Garfield seemed unwilling for a moment, but still stood up. Then as if he got a new idea he looked down at Raven with a smile.

"Hey, why don't you play with us?" He asked, "The water is so refreshing."

Raven shook her head, "No thanks. I'd really rather read."

"Come on Rae! You don't even have to play. Just hit the water. You won't regret it." He sounded almost desperate.

Raven held the book closer to her face, either as a sign of unwillingness or to hide her red face. "No."

She didn't mean to sound rude but knowing her being in water meant being physically closer to him, Raven decided it was for the best if she stayed where she was and not to think further about his body.

Garfield seemed sad for a moment but didn't say anything. He went to the edge and gave Raven a very good view of his butt then jumped into the water, splashing a few water droplets on Raven's legs. It didn't ruin her book so she didn't complain.

She saw him playing skillfully, hitting the ball with such a strength she didn't know he had and swimming so easily that she wondered if he turned into a fish. He was just so hard to look away from.

Raven cursed herself for not watching the first round if that's what she could have seen. Him being unfairly attractive and eye catching to the point she couldn't even pay attention to her surroundings. Her book, left open and forgotten in her hands was waiting for her to read another sentence whereas she was busy ogling Beast Boy for a good time.

If Beast Boy was the correct name for him in the first place.

"Yeah that's what I'm talking about!" Dick cheered as he high-fived Gar when he scored.

"Hey guys! Hotdogs are ready!"Victor shouted from the barbecue, "I also made one vegan for you green bean."

"Okay Cy. Thanks." Gar said as they all started to get out of the pool one by one.

Raven tried to take the chance to refocus on the book. However, the more she looked at it, the less she could comprehend the words; almost as if English was an unknown language for her.

Her whole head was filled with Gar in his awfully tight swim shorts. Raven hated how they were so tight that they didn't leave much things into her imagination. She didn't know if she didn't like how exposed he was to her or how he was exposed to others as well.

Maybe he could even be equal with Roy in skills if he wanted to? Or even Dick? Based on his performance in the pool, Raven believed he might be able to. He definitely was no longer the small teenager anymore.

"Here."

Gar's voice almost startled her. Raven looked up and saw him offering her one of the hotdogs Cyborg had made.

She sat up, trying her best not to look suspicious. "Thanks."

Gar nodded and sat again on the stool beside her, and started eating his food. Putting her book open on her lap, Raven tried to keep her face away from him and pretend she was enjoying the view in front of her; even if her view was Wally eating a bunch of hotdogs.

She just had to endure this for a couple of minutes. When Gar was done eating, he would be gone for another round and leave her and her mind alone. Maybe she could finally focus on enjoying the pool day rather than how he would react if she asked him to change his swim shorts.

"Umm Rae?" Gar asked, "weren't you on the exact same page when I left?"

Raven's head spun quickly to him and she saw him looking at the book on her lap with a confused face.

As fast as she could, she grabbed the book and started clumsily flipping the pages.

"I-It fell!" She stuttered while flapping the pages, "I had to...it wasn't the right page so I just couldn't find…"

She was talking nonsense now. She could feel her face getting hotter by each second as she was trying to find a proper page to make her point. But it was too late now. From the corner of her eyes she saw Gar smirking at her.

Oh Azar he knew!

She looked at him with a frown. No way she was letting him enjoy this!

"What?!" Her voice was louder than she intended, making the smirk on his face even wider.

Scooting the stool closer to her, Garfield put a hand on her book, stopping her from flipping the pages randomly.

"You'd rather read a book than come to swim with us in the pool huh?" He whispered, "now I know why."

Raven couldn't even find her voice when he was gazing at her like that. She felt her face was hotter than the sun above her but she couldn't find the strength to look away from him.

She was caught!

Still smirking, Gar whispered again. "You could have just said it, you know. I'd have made it much more enjoyable for you."

"Oh shut up Gar!" She snapped, glad that she found her voice again. "It's nothing like that."

He chuckled at her frowning face. "Sure Rae."

"I wasn't staring at you!"

"Never said you were." His smirk somehow got wider, "But it's good that you mentioned it could possibly be the case."

Azar he was teasing her! Raven awfully wished she never said anything. It was so embarrassing. He knew it! He knew she was looking at him the whole time. Knowing Gar, he would be teasing her till the end of time for this.

His face was just an each away from hers now but opposite of minutes ago, it wasn't because he wanted to look at her book. He was this close to look at her!

He looked down at her lips and Raven's heart froze. No! He was not going to kiss her! No matter how soft and delicious his lips seemed or how much she wished he would. They couldn't just kiss in front of others.

His nose touched hers and Raven just closed her eyes. Her whole face felt hot and his body heat was making everything much hotter, especially how this time she could feel his knees into her legs.

"You're cute when you're flustered." He whispered and gently put her sunglasses on her forehead, taking a good long look at her blushing face.

Raven wished the Earth would open and swallow her whole body. She felt his hot finger on her cheek caressing it gently.

Azar why was he hesitating? She just wished he would kiss her already!

"Cheer for me okay?"

She opened her eyes confused. "What?"

Before she could react, Gar pressed his lips on her right cheek, kissing her lightly.

This time her book did fall on the floor. His soft lips on her cheek felt amazing and Raven didn't even get time to say anything. He kissed her! Garfield actually kissed her when they were both almost naked. The whole concept of what happened made Raven shiver under his touch.

He pulled away slightly and whispered to her ear. "Hope you'll enjoy it."

Suddenly he got up from his seat, leaving Raven dumbfounded, and shouted, "Hey Dick! Wanna race?"

"Oh you're on!" The Boy Wonder said challenging from his chair near Kory.

Raven didn't know what happened. One moment Gar was in front of her eyes smirking at her, the next she found him racing with Dick to the other side of the pool.

Now knowing he had an eager audience, Gar spared no pains making sure she enjoyed what she was watching; even if she seemed to be reading the book she quickly picked up from the floor. It was fake reading. She was staring at him! So why not give her what she wanted? Or maybe a bit more?

Gar saw her taking glances at him constantly; obviously she forgot that she didn't have her glasses on her eyes and he could catch her watching what he was doing when he looked at her.

She would get her revenge of course. Raven wasn't the type of person to just let him tease her without a payback. Till that time, Gar decided to enjoy this and let her enjoy as well.

Frowning at him, Raven knew what he was doing. That stupid green Titan was mostly showing his skills off to her than competing with others. He would often glance at her with his stupid grin when he nailed a dive or did an outstanding swimming move; telling her that yes! I know you're watching!

Not wanting to tolerate more of his teasing, Raven used her telekinesis power and splashed water on his stupid face when he turned around and winked at her in the pool.

"Rae!"

Proud of what she did, Raven held the book in front of her face again, fully aware she was not going to be able to read another line.

***

Writer's note: Yes! Raven reads The Witcher book series and she's a big fan of it. No one can convince me otherwise lol

@bbraeweek21

#bbrae #bbraven #rachel roth #beast boy #garfield logan #raven #gar logan #teen titans #I'm basically a day behind the schedule but I just wanna participate for bbrae week.#it was supposed to be smutty at first but i changed it to fit the rules #lol #bbraeweek2021 #day two

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floral-and-fine · 2 years ago

Text

Red Heart

Michael Langdon x fem reader

summary: At the end of the world, the Reader finds herself in Outpost 3 with nothing more than a name. With no memories of her life before, stuck living underground with strangers, and only ally seemingly being the militant Ms Mead, she's surprised by the instant connection she has with the member of the Cooperative that arrives one day without any prior warning. It's not long before her past and ties to him are revealed.

warnings: some of the usual dark content like murder and killing, I guess. Surprisingly no smut, just fluff and romance.

a/n: This is my longest fic ever so far! I combined a new idea with an old idea. There are 2 different endings, which is another first for me. With both endings, the story is roughly 28,500 words. I’m thinking about writing a smutty one shot for Michael soon. Thank you @ewokiee and @steeevienicks for the help.

“So,” Evie started, arching her brow. “You really have no memory of your life before?” She pressed, her eyes looking you over as she sized you up.

The two of you were sitting on one of black leather couches during cocktail hour.

“Afraid not,” you muttered with a slight shrug.

“Hm,” she looked away, taking a sip of her drink. “Must make adjusting to all this,” she gestured to the room and the other people present while sloshing her glass of mineral water around. “Easier… Nothing from your past to miss, no previous life to long for.”

“That’s one way to look at it, I suppose.”

It was true, you couldn’t remember anything from your past. You didn’t even have any recollection of arriving at The Outpost. Two weeks ago, you had woken up in your room here, unable to recall anything except for your name. Ms. Mead was the first person you met, she had given you a quick rundown of where you were, what had happened, and the rules of Outpost 3 while she helped you change into a formal violet dress.

But Evie had a point, as the days passed the others became more strung out and restless, Coco’s hair changed daily, Gallant’s mood swings were more extreme, and they all complained from morning to night.

But, when they would speak of the world before the end, you had to admit you were a little envious. They’d talk about foods you’d never likely taste, weather you’d never feel, places you’d never see… having no memories was a blessing and a curse.

However, your curiosity was stronger than your envy, which is why you often found yourself sitting next to Evie, so you could listen to her stories. She was always happy to speak about herself and her past exploits.

Suddenly, two strangers entered the music room. You straightened out the skirt of your dress, your fingers running across the purple silk as you sat up straight. It didn’t go unnoticed that the two strangers were both dressed in purple as well.

You had quickly learned its significance in this new world. Purple meant you were part of the elite and that was your only clue to who you were before. You wondered if you had been an heiress like Coco or an actress like Dinah. But you had your doubts. Even Evie often commented that you were far too kind, too humble to have been anyone with any real clout or power. Which left you wondering why you were here, really, if you paid your way like the rest.

Eager to speak to new people, everyone stood up to greet the new meat. Gallant was quick to approach them and ask them questions about what the world above was like.

“It’s all gone,” the boy stated solemnly.

“Everything,” the girl added.

Ms. Venable soon joined the group, announcing it was time for dinner. Everyone followed her out to the dining room.

You took your usual seat and quietly waited to be served by the grays. You remained seated as Coco threw her fit over having to eat another cube. You jumped slightly when Ms. Venable struck Coco’s face. You hadn’t seen her lose her composure like that and it frightened you.

When Ms. Mead had shared with Ms. Venable that had no memory of who you were, she had questioned you repeatedly. You could see it in her eyes that she didn’t think you belonged. Ms. Venable believed you were unworthy of being a purple and hadn’t earned your spot here at this sanctuary. You were sure she was looking for a way to dispose of you.

Your eyes remained downcasted as Ms. Venable addressed the group. She shared that three of the outposts had already been overrun, there was only enough food for 18 months, and that the world above was beyond repair.

The Fist and a few other members of The Cooperative entered the dining room, The Fist whispered something to Ms. Mead.

“There’s a problem,” Ms. Mead shared. “We've detected a spike in the background radiation, centered in this room.”

Immediately Gallant pointed a finger at the newcomers who insisted they were clean.

“Place your hands on the table,” Ms. Mead directed, calmly. “And don’t move.”

Ms. Mead gave you a small reassuring smile as she came around with the Geiger Counter. Despite how the rest of the group felt about Ms. Mead, you found her presence comforting like you were safe with her around.

You watched wide eyed as Gallant and Stu were dragged away from the table. Moments later Ms. Venable dismissed you and the rest of the group.

You retired to your room and immediately started the shower to let the water heat up. Ms. Mead’s words about radiation and its effects were still swirling around your head. Stripping out of the dress, you left it on the floor as you bathed, washing every inch of your body.

The next day, you and the rest of the group learned Stu’s fate. Andre was inconsolable, sobbing as he mourned over the death of his lover.

At dinner everyone was surprised when instead of bland tasteless cubes, soup was served. Ms. Venable referred to it as bonne bouche.

You pushed the meat around with your spoon, you had to admit it smelled appetizing. Everyone else delved in, rejoicing over the flavor and taste. A few questioned the source of the meat and where the meat came from, but Ms. Mead insisted that it was chicken. Yet no one seemed truly convinced.

You were about to take a bite when Andre found a bone in his bowl. He quickly pushed his bowl aside, identifying the bone as a finger, immediately claiming that Stu had been served.

Most of the others reacted with disgust, silverware clattering on the table as they began retching and spitting the stew out. Andre leapt from his seat, swept up in an emotional outburst.

Ms. Venable attempted to reassure the group, stressing that there were some lines that should never be crossed.

Evie was the only purple unphased and continued to eat.

You calmly placed your spoon back down on your napkin, watching as the rest of the purples filed out of the dining room.

As you joined them in the music room, they were still talking about the strange supper, arguing over whether it had been Stu or not. Andre was still distraught as his mother tried to comfort him.

The arguing came to a halt as Emily shushed everyone when the music suddenly stopped. Gallant rushed to the radio as the song had changed. For two full weeks nonstop Karen Carpenter's voice had droned on and on, but now a new voice rang out.

‘There's got to be a morning after

If we can hold on through the night’

Gallant mistook it as a sign of hope, a message sent directly from The Cooperative that there was hope for the future, but 18 grueling months had passed since then.

Evie had run out of stories to tell. Andre’s tears had dried. Dinah’s advice had become stale and repetitive.

The days had all blurred together, then the weeks, then the months. Everyday was just like the last. You were desperate for something to change.

You often wondered, late in the night, if perhaps you had already died and this was purgatory or even hell, and that you were here to atone for the sins of life you couldn’t remember.

Ms. Venable tapped her cane.”This will be our last breakfast,” she announced. “We’re cutting back to one meal a day.”

You could feel the dismay and uneasiness in the room. Coco was first to share her complaints about the new arrangement, followed by Gallant. Both Evie and Dinah tried to be voices of reason, but it seemed to only fuel their frustrations more. Gallant jumped to his feet, and threatened Dinah with his fork.

Instinctively, you scooted closer to Ms. Mead as tempers rose. She looked towards The Fist, giving her a wordless order.

“I say we take our chances outside,” Coco’s assistant suggested.

“She’s right. We have to get out of here,” Gallant agreed.

“Nobody’s going anywhere,” Ms. Mead stated firmly.

Gallant threw his plate, “What are you going to do? Shoot us all?”

The Fist made her way towards him.

You gripped your utensils tightly as the scene unfolded before you. You knew the members of The Cooperative wouldn’t hesitate to kill any one of you, the had done away with several people already.

Suddenly, red lights flashed accompanied with the blare of an alarm rung out, effectively catching everyone’s attention.

“Perimeter alert. There’s been a breach,” The Fist explained.

Ms. Mead sighed, giving you a curt nod, before following The Fist towards the stairs.

No one was sure what to expect. Most were thinking that this was it, that the outpost would be overrun like the others.

You probably should’ve felt worried as well, but frankly you were just glad something unexpected had happened, something to break the monotony. You stared up at the ceiling wondering who or what was up there.

That night you were restless, tossing and turning, legs tangled in your sheets as you tried to fall into a deep sleep that never came. Instead, your busy mind conjured vivid and unsettling dreams, full of unfamiliar people and experiences that you didn’t remember or you didn’t understand, almost like being in a foreign film.

Amongst all the nameless faces was a boy with blonde hair and striking blue eyes who appeared over and over again, catching your attention. As you watched him from afar he continuously changed from a child to a man.

You tried to get closer to him, reaching out with your hands trying to grab him, stop him, but each time he slipped away from your fingers with a pained look in his eyes.

When your eyes snapped open, your poor head was throbbing, pounding against your skull. You curled into a ball sobbing quietly over the pain and the new emptiness in your chest.

Everytime you closed your eyes you thought about that boy, it was almost as if you could feel his longing, his pain. You wished you could make out his face, but you could only recall pieces, like his fluffy blonde hair and the shade of his steel blue eyes.

…

He was beautiful.

He was the most beautiful person you had ever seen, not that you much to compare him to considering the only faces you could remember were residents here at the outpost. You knew you were staring as he strode into the music room, but you couldn’t resist. Even if you tried, you were sure that you couldn’t imagine anyone more perfect than the man standing before you.

Ms.Venable stepped aside as he turned and faced the survivors of Outpost 3.

“My name is Langdon, and I represent The Cooperative,” the man stated, standing in the center of the room.

You were so engrossed with his appearance that you were unable to process his words, although you did notice the soothing sound of his honeyed voice, so sweet and rich. He exuded confidence and poise as he spoke of the horrors that had befallen the world and the few remaining survivors. There was a sort of haughtiness as he answered questions that you also admired.

It was unnerving, feeling attraction for the very first time. It was as if you could easily lose yourself to him, all of yourself, and that alone was very frightening. Surely, before the world crumpled, you must have felt this sort of magnetism towards people before, but you couldn’t imagine it was anything as powerful as this. Was this a crush? Love at first sight? Whatever it was, you weren’t prepared for how strong this pull would be.

Gallant volunteered to be interviewed first, obviously eager to earn his spot at The Sanctuary. Despite your immediate interest in Michael Langdon, you were not as eager to be alone with him.

How could you answer any of his questions when you didn’t know a thing about yourself?

But as the thought crossed your mind, Michael’s eyes met yours, and for a brief moment it seemed as though his sauve and indifferent attitude faltered revealing something vulnerable and delicate beneath. Blue eyes that were cold and hard like ice were now swimming with emotion.

It only lasted for a second, his cool demeanor returning as he turned away from you.

“The process should only take me a couple of days,” Michael explained. “So you won’t be kept in suspense forever.”

“For those of you who don’t make the cut, all is not lost. If the worst should happen and feral cannibals come knocking,” he held up a vial containing white pills. “Down one of these. One minute later, you fall asleep and never wake up.”

“I look forward to meeting each and every one of you,” his eyes swept across the room, his eyes locking with yours one more time before he took his leave.

There was a heaviness in the air as the weight of his words sunk in. There was no survival without admittance to The Sanctuary. Staying here would inevitably lead to death, it was just a question of how, by feral cannibals or suicide.

As usual, the others erupted into a squabble, arguing over who was worthy and unworthy of going to The Sanctuary.

You rose to your feet as you felt your headache returning. No one questioned you as you made your way out, towards the comfort of your bedroom.

Your head snapped towards your bedroom door as someone urgently rapped against it.

“Ms. Venable has requested your presence,” Ms. Mead announced from the other side. “She has a few questions for you.”

“I’ll be right out,” you sighed as your fingers expertly finished buttoning your dress.

Ms. Mead gave you a half smile as you stepped out of your room. The two of you walked quietly through the halls as she escorted you to Ms. Venable’s office.

This happened about once a month, and you dreaded it every single time. At first she was reasonably pleasant, but as the months went by, she became more hostile, frustrated that your answers never changed.

You took a deep breath as you both stopped outside her door. Ms. Mead got the door and held it open for you.

“Thank you,” you whispered to her as you crossed the threshold.

“Of course,” she nodded, but as she closed the door, she gave Ms. Venable a stern look, who glared back in return. There seemed to be a sudden rift between the two women.

You looked wistfully at the closed door, wishing that Ms. Mead had stayed. Ms. Venable cleared her throat and motioned to the chair across from her.

“Ms. Y/n,” she greeted you as you took your seat.

“Ms. Venable,” you replied, with a polite but forced smile.

“18 months,” she began, chuckling dryly. “We’ve been here for 18 months and you still claim to have no memories?” She phrased it as a question but didn’t wait for a response. “It’s almost too convenient, isn’t it? The perfect little lie to hide behind.”

“It’s not a lie,” you insisted, locking your eyes with hers hoping to show her you were telling the truth, just like you had all the other times before.

Ms. Venable wasn’t convinced, of course, that’s why she continued with these monthly interrogations. She had been present for the arrival of all the others, except for you. You seemed to have materialized out of nowhere, standing beside Ms. Mead in a satin gown as she introduced you to the other purples.

“So,” Ms. Venable continued, barely able to hide her contempt while she feigned sympathy. “No changes? Nothing at all?”

You looked away, your fingers playing with the lace trim on your skirt. You hadn’t planned on sharing that dream with anyone, but maybe it would get her off your back for a while.

“I had this… dream recently, I can’t remember all the details, but there was this face, it’s not a clear image, but it lingers in my mind, of a sweet boy with blonde hair. I know… I know whoever he is, that I love him,” you admitted.

Tears welled in your eyes as you tried to picture him, but no matter how hard you tried it was like trying to see through fog. And there were all these feelings that emerged just at the thought of him, completely overwhelming you, making it hard to articulate any further.

“I-I need to go,” you sniffled, your vision blurry as you got to your feet and rushed out the office.

Your headache returned, bringing waves of nausea with it. The world around you was swirling and rocking, the light of the candles and lanterns were blinding. Holding your hand out you steadied yourself with the wall, using it as your anchor and guide as you tried to return to the safety of your room.

“Ms. Y/n?”

Even with you squeezing your shut, you recognized the voice belonging to Coco’s assistant Mallory. She immediately offered you assistance, helping you sit on the floor.

“Thank you,” you muttered, resting against the cool concrete wall.

“Of course,” she said, sitting next to you.

You bent your knees, pulling them up to your chest. “I keep getting these headaches along with these strange dreams,” you explained. “I think they might have to do with my memories.”

“I wouldn’t worry too much about it,” she consoled. “Ever since being here, I’ve felt off too, like I’m not all here or I’m missing parts of myself… I have a feeling there’s a reason for it all.”

The two of you sat there in a comfortable silence. You had never really spent time with Mallory before, the grays were always so busy compared to the purples, but she seemed much nicer than most of the people who’ve gotten to know.

Mallory accompanied you back to your room, once you felt well enough to walk again. You still had to prepare for your upcoming interview.

….

The grays pulled the doors open and immediately closed them shut as soon as you stepped into the office.

Michael was waiting by his desk for you. An eager smile formed on his lips as he watched you timidly approach him.

“Let’s begin, shall we?” He said, gesturing to the leather chair across from his desk before he promptly moved to his own seat.

You swallowed thickly, your hands folded in your lap, you had spent hours agonizing over this interview. You wanted to secure a spot at The Sanctuary just like everyone else, but what could you say to convince him?

Ms. Venable drilled you every chance she got about who you are or were, she was obviously certain that you didn’t belong with the rest. Even the other purples had made it a habit, regularly pointing out to you that if you had been anyone important than someone here at the outpost should’ve recognized you, but none of them did. You were no one.

Then, of course, there was the whole other ordeal of you being infatuated with Michael Langdon, you were completely bewitched by his charm and beauty.

Your stomach was already fluttering uncontrollably simply because you were in the same room with him, alone. Your gaze flickered to him, briefly taking in the sight before you. His body language spoke volumes as sat there like a young king perched upon his throne, radiating elegance and authority.

“You’ve been awfully quiet,” Michael mused. “ Unlike your…companions, who have all been so loud and obnoxious,” he rolled his eyes. “Constantly pestering me, pleading their cases, and offering deals and bribes thinking I can be swayed by their foolish promises but not you, not even now, why?”

You bit your lip, unsure how to respond.

“Could it be that you’ve already decided that you won’t be selected?” he speculated.

You looked away. “I’m nobody special or significant,” you explained, bunching your skirts in your hands. “I don’t even know why I’m here or how I even arrived at the outpost.”

“Ah, yes,” Michael hummed. “Ms. Venable has informed me that you have no memories of your past.” He gave you a hard look, before leaning forward, his fingers drumming on the desk. “Have you considered that perhaps you’re here because someone special, someone powerful, made these arrangements for you?”

You shook your head, the thought hadn’t crossed your mind at all, but it wasn’t an unreasonable idea. “If that were true then wouldn’t that person be here with me now?”

Michael shrugged, resting his elbows on the armrests as he leaned back and crossed his legs, “Unless they weren’t able to get here in time, perhaps they died on their way to the outpost or worse, survived… but who knows maybe they did make it, maybe they’re here and haven’t told you.”

“Why would someone do that?” Your eyes moved from Michael to the files on his desk, could it really be that one of the others knows who you are. “Do any of your files mention anything about why or how I ended up here?”

“I’m afraid that’s classified,” he replied with a mocking smile, laying his hand on top of the stack, a playful look in his eye as he stared down at the pile.

Your shoulders slumped, you had hoped that Michael would have some answers for you, but instead he just planted more questions and worries in your head.

“How do you feel about them, the others?” He asked offhandedly, casually changing the subject, while slightly swiveling his chair side to side.

You perked up at the question. “Oh, Evie has been a friend, someone to talk to, to confide in,” you said with a small shrug. “And Ms. Mead, even though she keeps her distance from us, she’s been a source of comfort for me, someone I can trust.”

Micheal snickered, shaking his head, “You’re the first to say anything remotely kind about the other survivors. The rest were all so quick to share with me the ugly and disgraceful truths they had gathered about one another. It’s… a refreshing change.”

He tilted his head, his gaze lingering on your face as his finger traced down the side of his face to his jaw. Your eyes followed the gesture, mesmerized, it seemed unfair to try to have to concentrate with him right in front of you. Every movement he made, no matter how small or fleeting, was alluring, like he was tempting you.

“Do you find me attractive?” He asked, his eyes lighting up with delight as he watched you squirm.

Your eyes widened, twisting your silk skirt with your hands, it was as if he could read your mind.

“Tell me,” Michael urged with a smirk, rising from his chair and slowly striding towards you. “What exactly do you like about me?”

He partially sat on his desk right in front of you, his hands clasped in front as he waited.

You parted your lips, licking them nervously. “Everything,” you answered in a small voice.

“Everything?” He repeated, lifting his brow. He leaned closer towards you, his long golden hair falling forward like a curtain, his face inching towards yours.

You nodded, your eyes locking with his as you craned your neck towards him.

“I believe you,” he whispered, his breath tickling your face as his nose touched yours. “Too bad we’re out of time.”

You blinked in surprise as the large black doors slid open.

Michael straightened out his posture, before turning away. “We’ll speak again, soon,” he added as he headed up the staircase.

You wandered the halls, head in the clouds, daydreaming of the kiss that almost happened between you and Michael. You were certain now that whatever you were feeling was more than a crush.

“Ms. Y/n?” Ms. Mead started as you almost walked into her.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you gasped, feeling embarrassed as you suddenly returned to planet Earth.

“Everything alright?”

You giggled, “I’m fine, never better.”

She gave you an odd look, “Are you sure? This morning you didn’t look too well.”

You smiled warmly at her, “It was just a little headache, that’s all.”

She nodded, still not completely convinced. “Well, I’m glad you’re okay.”

“Thank you, Ms. Mead.”

She sighed, straightening out her coat as you both stood there in the middle of the empty corridor. You were about to ask what was on her mind, but suddenly she opened her mouth.

“Have you talked to him yet? Mr. Langdon?” She asked.

“I have,” you replied, trying not to smile too wide.

She looked down. “The others seemed worse off after talking to him,” she shared. “Can’t say I’m looking forward to my turn.”

“Why?” You inquired, voice laced with concern. “Surely your hard work and dedication to The Cooperative should guarantee you a spot.”

“That’s kind of you to say.”

“It’s the truth,” you assured her.

“What do you make of him?” Ms. Mead asked, unsure how to feel about the newcomer, he was with The Cooperative afterall and her loyalty to her employer was still strong. She had followed orders and had done the best she could in these circumstances. Perhaps, this Langdon did hold the key to salvation.

“It’s hard to put it into words,” you began to explain. “But I feel a connection to him.”

“Just keep your wits about you,” she advised, giving you a slight nod as she left.

…

You were moving sluggishly, having spent most of the morning in bed trying to recover from another headache. While the pain lingered, your head no longer felt like it was going to explode.

Slowly, you pulled open your wardrobe and shifted through your options wishing there was something comfier and easier to wear instead of all these complicated dresses.

You eventually settled on a simple tea gown which you were able to wear without a corset. As you were tying the back of the bodice, someone knocked on your door.

“Ms. Venable?” You questioned, stepping back as she invited herself into your bedroom.

“Close the door,” she ordered, standing tall with both of her hands clasping her cane.

You pushed the door closed, but remained far from Ms. Venable. She had never dropped in on you like this, and you didn’t like it. It felt too invasive, seeing her in your room acting as if she owned the place. You knew nothing good would come from this visit.

“I want you to tell me more about the boy,” she demanded, her dark eyes boring into yours.

“I don’t want to talk about him.”

“Hiding something?” She probed.

“No,” you objected. “I’ve already told you everything I could remember.”

“Surely that’s not all,” she argued, giving you an incredulous look.

After what Ms. Mead shared with her about the beautiful boy, Ms. Venable was now convinced that the two of you were speaking of the same boy. The way you both reacted emotionally while speaking of your love for him made it obvious.

Now the big question was who was this boy?

Since the beginning, Ms. Venable had suspected that there was a connection between Ms. Mead and you. This only solidified her suspicions that you and her knew each other from before, most likely through The Cooperative.

This had to be why Ms. Mead had protected you, you were the one that should’ve been killed instead of Stu. But Ms. Mead had decided otherwise, despite the clear orders Ms. Venable had given her. No one would have cared or even noticed if you had died. You were an outlier, something unpredictable to the order she had created here. She wanted you gone.

“Think harder,” Ms. Venable commanded, glaring at you. “Who is the boy?”

“I don’t know,” you pressed your back against the wall.

She slammed her cane on the floor. “Worthless girl,” she snapped. “You have no idea what’s at stake here.”

You had to know something. The order she had worked so hard to cultivate was beginning to crumble, it was all in jeopardy because of the arrival of Langdon. He was pulling it all apart at the seams, revealing her lies and planting the seeds of disobedience. He brought chaos and disorder into her outpost while repeatedly undermining her authority. She needed to regain some sort of control, before it was too late.

“What?” You furrowed your brows, tears slowly rolling down your cheeks. “I don’t understand, what does he have to do with anything?”

Ms. Venable practically snarled, “Liar.”

You jumped slightly as your door suddenly opened, revealing Michael standing on the other side.

“Ms. Venable,” he began. “I’ve been waiting in my office for quite some time…I still have questions for Ms. y/n,” he explained, folding his arms behind his back.

Ms.Venable glared at Michael, clenching her jaw tightly, her hands practically shaking with irritation over the sudden disruption.

“I don’t like to be kept waiting,” he warned.

Ms. Venable didn't budge, she didn’t like being played for a fool, you knew more than you were letting on and she could see now that there was something going on between you and Langdon.

Micheal smirked, obviously amused.“I think it’s time for you to leave,” he stated, taking a step to the side gesturing for her to go.

She huffed, her cane tapping on the floor as she finally took her leave.

“Mr. Langdon,” you said softly, tilting your head.

“Michael,” he corrected.

“Michael,” you started again. “I wasn’t aware we were meeting again so soon.”

He smiled, directing his attention to you. “I wanted to continue where we left off yesterday. And now that Ms. Venable is gone, we can.”

Your face flushed as you recalled how your interview with him ended. You could still picture his face just inches from yours, his lips parted as you leaned in towards him. You had wondered if you had just a minute or two longer with him, what would’ve happened? Was he really going to kiss you?

“What are you thinking about?” He looked around your room, before approaching you, his hands wrapping around your elbows as he pulled you towards him.

“Nothing,” you answered in a small voice.

He laughed lightly, “I’m sure it’s not nothing.” His fingers curled tighter around your arms. “Let’s see… does it have anything to do with me?”

You bit your lip and nodded.

He smirked triumphantly. “You don’t have to be so nervous about that,” Michael mused. “I want you to think about me… to want me. Do you want me?”

You nodded again, not trusting your voice.

“Good,” he murmured. “Considering how we might end up the last two people on Earth.”

You furrowed your brow as Michael reached up, his knuckle running along your cheek.

“Which brings me to why I’m here,” he continued, lowering his hand making you immediately miss his touch as it left your skin. “I have important news, news that I wanted to deliver to you in person.”

He focused on your face with a serious look, “What I’m about to tell you doesn’t leave this room, do you understand?”

“Yes,” you promised.

Michael leaned down, his lips right by your ear. “You’ve been granted a spot at The Sanctuary.”

You looked at him with wide eyes. You couldn’t believe it.

He smiled, placing his index finger over your lips. “This is our little secret.”

His finger lingered on your skin for a moment before he reluctantly released you. Smoothing out his coat, he gave you one last look, before leaving you there speechless.

…

The complex multi-level underground structure of Outpost 3 was prone to creating strange moving shadows. It wasn’t dark figures following you in your peripherals. The fire and candle light that lit up each room and passage were unable to reach all the far corners.

It was eerie at the beginning, constantly feeling like you had to look over your shoulder, but eventually you got used to it, like you did with the cubes, the complicated clothes, and the same song that played every damn day. It just became part of your reality.

But lately you began to feel as though you were being followed by more than just the usual shadows, this new dark figure seemed more real, more solid.

At first you blamed your mind, thinking it was playing tricks on you or mistaking the shadows for a real person. Since you weren’t getting much sleep, because of the vivid dreams and the horrendous headaches, it didn’t seem unreasonable to suspect that you might be hallucinating.

You couldn’t shake the feeling, however. Unlike the shadows, it seemed to have more mobility, slinking along the walls or even the ceiling, watching you, but you were never able to get a good look at it. A few times, in the middle of night, you had jolted awake swearing that you had felt someone in bed beside you.

You felt like you were losing your mind.

Walking past the large fire in the atrium, you hoped that things would be better at The Sanctuary, less dreary and hopeless like the outpost had become. The change in scenery alone would be a welcomed change.

You sighed thinking about what Michael had said about it just being you and him, you wished he had elaborated.

Out of nowhere, you saw a dark figure move above you, against your better judgment you followed it, going up the stairs to a vacant room.

You stood there frozen as a shadowy figure stood across from you. It tilted its head, staring at you. Its body was covered head to toe in latex.

“Who are you?” You asked.

It didn’t answer.

“Michael?” You took a step closer, observing it more closely, wondering who or what it could be dressed like that. Your eyes wandered over its body, the tight fitting material left little to the imagination.

It moved forward as well, extending its hand and caressing your cheek similar to how Michael had done earlier, but the texture of the latex on your skin made your skin crawl. It lacked the warmth and comfort Michael’s touch had brought you. The same touch that had excited you earlier, the same touch you craved to feel again.

You squirmed as it laid its other hand on your waist. Desire radiated from its body as it pulled you closer.

Fingers drifted up towards your chest. Your heart began to race, panic settling over you as you speculated what the strange creature would do next.

The hand that had caressed your cheek trailed towards your neck. You inhaled sharply as its large fingers wrapped around your neck.

Firmly you pushed it away from you.

It tilted its head the other way, watching you attentively. For a moment you were worried that you had upset the person or creature, but it simply walked past you and out the door, seemingly satisfied.

You stumbled backwards until your back hit a wall, releasing a shaky breath you had been holding in.

The interaction was so odd and brief, that you couldn’t make sense of what had just happened. But something deep down told you it was a test. That Michael was testing you.

Breathing in deeply, you tried to regain your composure. You knew it didn’t have any sort of malicious intent, it was more that you felt repulsed by the idea of anyone other than Michael touching you like that.

You hoped you had seen the last of it.

…

You were in the library when you heard that Evie had passed. You sat there for hours, in silence, as you tried to process the news.

Gallant was at least courteous enough to find and tell you that she had died, emphasizing that she had died peacefully in her sleep. He held a somber expression, trying desperately to appear upset, nodding his head as he expressed that she had lived a long and fuller life than most. Too bad the crocodile tears he managed to muster were wasted, you were so despondent that you weren’t really listening anymore as he cried.

You weren’t sure how to feel about the situation, she had been a friend to you when you had no one, but you weren’t blind to her boasting and egotistical nature. You sure that in life she had more enemies than friends, even her own grandson barely seemed to tolerate her.

There would be no funeral, no ceremony celebrating her life or to mourn her, everyone would just move on without a second thought.

Your head shot up as you felt the couch dip beside you.

Michael crossed his legs and propped his arm up on the back of the sofa, resting his head on his hand, as he turned his body towards you.

“You’ve heard the news, I assume?” He asked, in a gentle tone.

You nodded as tears finally streamed down your face. Suddenly it all felt more real, now that Michael was here. Evie was really gone and your world seemed smaller now because of it.

He rested his free hand over yours as you cried freely, his thumb caressing circles on the top of your hand. It took several minutes before you were able to compose yourself.

“I know she wasn’t anyone’s favorite person,” you sniffled. “She rubbed people the wrong way, made everything about her, but Constance was my-“

You stopped speaking as you realized your mistake.

Constance?

The name had slipped from your lips so easily, like you had said it many times before, but that made no sense, you didn’t know anyone by that name, or did you?

Michael paused, his entire body becoming stiff as he peered at your face.

“I’m sorry,” you shook your head. “I don’t know where that came from. I’ve been getting these headaches and having the weirdest dreams.”

“It’s alright,” he reassured you, his shoulders visibly relaxing. “Perhaps, it’s your mind preparing itself for when your memories return. I wouldn’t worry about it.”

You wiped your face, and inhaled deeply, “Thank you for being here with me.”

“Of course,” he murmured, shifting in his seat and taking the hand he was holding and moving it to his lap. He reclined his head on the back of the sofa as you scooted closer to him, laying your head against his shoulder.

Michael stared at the chandelier, watching flames on the candles flicker with a pensive expression, his hand holding yours tighter as his thoughts drifted back to memories he had forbidden himself from revisiting.

He had changed and grown so much over the past couple of years, but having you back by his side invoked so many emotions and memories. You were always there when he needed you, when he wanted you.

He felt like such a monster after Grandma’s death. It left him wondering whether people were incapable of loving him because he was so wicked, evil. But you stayed with him, comforted him, loved him. You had knelt down beside him on the wooden floors, letting him cry upon your shoulder as you held him close...

Michael blinked a few times, holding back tears. “You should get some rest,” he managed to say in an even tone.

You stretched your arms over your head and nodded. Your entire body felt heavy. Once you arrived in your room you collapsed on your bed, passing out, too tired to dream.

…

Michael closed his laptop and rubbed his forehead. He couldn’t focus on his work. The events from earlier had opened the floodgates, leaving him feeling like he was drowning inside.

It was becoming such a struggle to keep you at arms length. Even without your memories he could see that you were still drawn to him, that you still cared for him, and it was taking all of his self restraint not to take advantage of that.

There was nothing he wouldn’t give to have things like they were… to listen to you talk softly as you played with his hair or to reach out and hold your hand whenever he needed to.

But it was still too soon, he still had to keep you safe.

He glanced at the trunk that held the few belongings he brought with him to the outpost. Laying on top was a book of yours, your favorite book. You had read it to him so many times that he grew to love it as much as you did.

Closing his eyes Michael could picture the last time you read it to him, as clear as day, back in the old mansion. It was the middle of the afternoon, his head was resting on your belly as both laid together in his room, your nails were scratching his scalp. He had fallen asleep before you reached the end…

For nearly two years he tried to read it, but he never got very far, it was only a good book when you were reading it.

Michael was sitting in front of the fireplace, head resting against his hand as he gazed into the flames. A worn book sat on his lap, forgotten. Just a few more days he kept reminding himself, he had worked so hard to get to this point, but soon he’d have everything he wanted.

He turned his head as you opened the door and peeked in.

“You wanted to see me?”

“That’s right,” Michael nodded, rising from his seat and taking a few long strides towards you. “I’ve heard you’ve read most of the books available in the library.”

“Not much else to do,” you smiled slightly, shutting the door behind you.

“Would you like a new book to read?” He asked, looking down at you. “I have a feeling, you’ll really enjoy this one.” He dangled the book that had been on his lap in front of you.

You tilted your head, giving him a wary look, but as soon as you reached out to accept it, he pulled it away with a smug grin.

Micheal tutted, shaking his head. “Not so quick, there’s a catch,” he teased, holding it over his shoulder. “If you want to read it, you have to read it to me.”

“Read it to you?” You narrowed your eyes.

“Mmhmm,” he nodded, getting closer to you.

“I don’t understand,” you muttered.“Why?”

“So many questions,” Michael chuckled. “If you really don’t want to, I could ask one of the others, Gallant, maybe? Or Coco?”

“I’ll do it,” you blurted out, the thought of him asking someone else smacked you with a bout of anxiety, making your heart jump into your throat. Again you made a reach for the book, and this time he allowed you to take it. With a smile, he relinquished the hardback book to you, and headed back towards the fireplace.

Gracefully, he shucked off his black coat and laid it on the back of one of the chairs. As you were about to sit on the other armchair, he stopped you and offered you his hand, guiding you to the rug on the floor.

You knelt down on your knees first, before trying your best to get comfortable on the floor. The tight bodice and large skirt on your dress limited your mobility.

You were caught off guard as Michael joined you, resting his head upon your lap as stretched out on the carpet. His face looked up, his attention all on you as he waited for you to start.

Clearing your throat, you opened the book to the first chapter and started reading. Michael took a deep breath and closed his eyes, his arms laying across his chest as you read in a soft and steady tone.

Michael was right, you immediately became engrossed in the story and attached to its characters. Time passed comfortably between the two of you as if this were a regular occurrence or activity. Absent-mindedly, you played with Michael’s hair, casually twirling the silky strands around your finger. He slowly opened his eyes gazing at the fireplace with the same vulnerable expression you had briefly seen before.

He snatched your hand, curling his fingers around your palm, with a firm grip he placed your hand on his chest holding it there with both of his.

You stopped reading, and looked down at him. His head was still turned away from you, long blonde locks covering the side of his face. You could feel his heart beating under your touch. Your fingers slowly grasped the front of his shirt. Laying the book down, you reached out and tucked his hair behind his ear.

Michael closed his eyes and gave a long drawn out sigh before immediately sitting up.

“Michael?”

He didn’t answer as he got to his feet.

Just then, two grays abruptly slid the large black doors open. Ms. Venable appeared heated, her lips forming a scowl as she stared daggers between you and Michael.

“It’s time for dinner,” Ms. Venable reminded sharply. “You’ve already missed cocktail hour.”

Michael stepped in front of you, protectively, blocking Ms. Venable’s view of you.

“My apologies,” he said, though his expression said otherwise.

Ms. Venable pursed her lips, her hand balling into a fist. Michael narrowed his eyes, standing tall, almost daring Ms. Venable to say something else with him present. Finally, she averted her gaze.

He lifted his coat from the chair and slipped it back on effortlessly. “I’ll escort her down.”

Michael waited until she left, before he helped you up. He still appeared irritated over the intrusion, acting unusually quiet.

You placed your hand on his upper arm, guiding him to face you. Michael raised his brow as he looked down at you, a faint smile forming on his lips.

Offering you his arm, he led you downstairs.

…

Ms. Venable gathered everyone in the music room, purples and grays, under the guise of an emergency meeting. All eyes were on her as she began to speak of the hardships endured by all during the past months.

“I believe now what we need is a moment of celebration,” she announced. “Which is why this weekend, as a gesture of goodwill, we will have a Halloween soirée.”

Gallant and Coco were the only ones to react with notable excitement. The rest of the purples seemed to question the real purpose of this masquerade.

You couldn’t help but notice the lack of Evie’s big personality in the room, the other purples seemed so dull by comparison. You missed her witty comments and humor. She probably had some interesting stories relating to Halloween.

Gallant, perhaps reading your expression, added how it was a shame his grandmother wouldn’t be present. However, he did a piss poor job of pretending to be sad. You wanted to roll your eyes at the comment, but resisted.

With everyone present in one room, with the exception of Michael, you were reminded that you had been selected for The Sanctuary. You were curious about who else Michael had chosen.

You glanced briefly at Ms.Mead, if it were up to you, you would pick her to join. She was far more useful and resourceful than the others, and could handle stressful situations with a cool head from what you had witnessed. To you she was simply one of the best this Outpost had to offer.

“I encourage you all to use your imaginations, to create what I am sure to be exquisite costumes,” Ms. Venable continued.

Once again the only ones who appeared happy about this whole ordeal were Coco and Gallant. It seemed strange for Ms. Venable to be acting so out of character, for her to care about something as frivolous as Halloween or making amends to anyone. There had to be more to it all.

Before dismissing everyone, she stressed, “Attendance is mandatory.”

The day of the masquerade, you had spent most of the day primping and preening hoping to look your best for the night. Even though it seemed unlikely, a part of you was holding out hope that you would see Michael tonight.

You did a little twirl in front of the full length mirror in your room. You were wearing a full length dark purple gown with an off -shoulder neckline made of silky ruffles.

Arriving in the music room, you spotted Ms. Mead who entered with a cart carrying apples. You felt a flutter of excitement, watching as she started to add them to a a barrel of water. They looked so appetizing. The others began to gather around, stunned that there was fresh fruit.

Looking at their faces as they stood around the barrel, you realized that you had left your mask upstairs. While they were all distracted with the fresh apples for the party, you snuck away and headed back to your room.

Lifting the skirt of your dress, you hurried back up the steps, but slowed down immediately when saw Micheal standing on the landing. His hand was resting on the bannister, as he gazed down at you.

“Are you heading downstairs?” You asked as you made your way up.

Michael chuckled, “Afraid not.”

“Oh,” you said with a sad smile, trying to hide your disappointment.

He offered you his hand as you took the last few steps up. Michael’s lips curled into a sneer as he examined you and your dress.

“Such an ugly color,” he criticized, his finger grazing over the dark purple fabric. “Doesn’t suit you at all.”

You glanced down at it, “There’s not much variety when it comes to color in my closet.”

He hummed, his hands undoing his scarf. He held it up to your face, before wrapping it securely around your neck, “Now red,” he murmured. “Red looks good on you.”

You could feel your face heat up over the small compliment.

Michael sighed as he took a moment to admire you, then leaned down, his lips close to your ear. “I bet you’d look even better in black.”

He pulled back. “Come with me,” he invited.

You bit your lip, looking back towards the stairs leading down to the music room.

He shook his head and reached for your hand. “No one will even notice you're not there.”

“But Ms. Venable said attendance was mandatory,” you whispered, playing with one end of the scarf.

Micheal frowned, his grip on your hand tightening, “I thought you’d want to spend time with me.”

“I do,” you said quickly.

“Then why are you hesitating?” He inquired, his voice steadily rising. “I can give you whatever you want, they can’t.”

You cupped his cheek, you hadn’t seen him become so emotional before, “I just wanted to try an apple, that’s all, but I’d rather be with you.”

He examined your face, his eyes practically staring straight into your soul. “That’s all?” He asked softly.

With a deep breath, his calm and confident façade returned. Lacing his fingers with yours, Michael led you to his room.

He motioned for you to have a seat on his bed, before he bent down and unlatched a black chest that was on the floor. From the chest he produced an apple.

Michael held it out towards you, it was a deep rich red color and unblemished. It looked perfect. You only hoped it tasted as good as it looked.

“Go ahead,” he urged, sitting by his desk and watching intently as you brought the apple to your lips.

You moaned as you bit into it, savoring the satisfying crunch and the sweet taste as juice dribbled down your chin. You took several more bites, giggling a little as you wiped your mouth with the back of your hand.

You suddenly felt self conscious as you realized Micheal was still watching, his gaze firmly fixed on you.

“How is it?” He asked, shifting forward as he moved his elbows from his chair onto his knees.

You hid your mouth behind your hand as you swallowed, “Delicious.”

“Is that right?”

“Best thing I’ve ever tasted.”

“I can think of something that tastes better,” he leaned forward, tilting his head and stroking his hand against your cheek and down to your neck as he pulled you closer. “It’s time for you to come back to me, y/n.”

His soft lips brushed against yours, before parting. His tongue lightly trailed over your lower lip, tasting the juice from the apple. You melted against him, your apple slipping from your fingers and falling to the floor as you held onto him. You closed your eyes, clinging to him as if he were the only thing keeping you from falling.

Who would’ve thought a kiss would be so powerful?

***flashback***

Micheal sat by the window, anxiously awaiting for your arrival. When grandma had shared that she was going out for the evening, and that you would be the one coming to watch him, he immediately perked up with excitement.

“How much longer grandma?” He whined.

“Not much longer,” she replied, patting the top of her grandson’s head.

Constance felt like she had hit the jackpot when you started sitting for her. After the last few babysitters, who had unfortunately met their demise here in her house, she feared that she’d never be able to go out alone or get a moment’s peace without having to add one death on her already guilt ridden conscience. But after that first night, when she entered her home and saw you alive and well with Micheal beside you just as happy as he could be, she honestly felt like the luckiest woman alive.

“Now remember to behave yourself, Micheal,” Constance started. “We both like Ms. y/n very much, don't we? It would be such a pity if she wasn’t around anymore.”

Micheal nodded his head, “I’ll be good.”

Now, Constance was no fool, she had her suspicions as to why her grandson made an exception when it came to you. The little dear had a crush on you, his first crush. It was truly sweet, watching him moon over you, almost made Micheal seem like a normal boy.

“She’s here!” Micheal shouted, jumping out of his seat to greet you at the door.

“Hi, Micheal,” you laughed as he wrapped his arms around your middle, squeezing you tightly.

“I missed you,” he mumbled, face pressed into stomach.

“I missed you too,” you rubbed his back as he squeezed you even tighter.

Constance smiled, grabbing her purse, “I’ll be back at 10. Have fun you two!”

“We will!” You replied, waving as she headed out.

You crouched down, onto your knees, looking Michael eye to eye, “Why don’t you go pick out a movie, okay?”

Micheal nodded, rushing into the living room, and grabbing the TV remote before flopping onto the couch and scrolling through the channels.

Micheal was by far the easiest kid you cared for, he followed your instructions, never had a tantrum or fussed, and always seemed so happy when you were around.

There had been rumors circulating around the neighborhood that made you hesitant about accepting the position. Everyone had heard about the deaths in the house, of course, but rumors were now spreading about how those nannies and sitters were actually murdered. However, after getting to know Micheal and Constance, you were glad you took the job. There was no way this sweet little boy could’ve hurt anyone.

He may have had some odd interests, but he just seemed so innocent.

“What movie did you pick?” You asked from the kitchen as the popcorn finished popping.

“The Omen,” he answered.

“Are you sure you want to watch that one? It’s pretty scary,” you warned.

“I’m sure.”

You shrugged, curling up on the couch beside him with a big bowl of buttery popcorn. You didn’t mind his interests, no matter how strange they might be to others. In your opinion, watching a horror movie was way better than watching The Wiggles or whatever else kids were into these days.

After a while, you grabbed the throw blanket from the back of the couch and covered your legs. Michael’s eyes were glued to the screen, but he managed to snuggle closer to you as you shared the blanket with him.

You winced as the nanny jumped, the noose successfully snapping her neck. It had been a few years since you’ve watched this particular horror classic. Usually you weren’t so jumpy, but it took you by surprise.

Michael shifted in his seat and looked at you. “It’s not his fault, right?” He asked in a small voice.

You raised your brow, and sat up, grabbing the remote and turning the volume down. “What Michael?”

“Damien and the stuff that’s happening, it’s not his fault, right?”

You looked back at the TV screen and thought about it for a moment. It was an interesting question. Damien is the son of the devil, but he’s still a child after all, and children are innocent and still learning about right and wrong. The contradictory nature of Damien’s existence is part of what makes the film so captivating. Makes the viewer wonder about all the evil people in the world and where it all went wrong for them.

How much of Damien’s circumstance was his fault? He didn’t ask to be born, he had no control over who his father was… Does he understand that his desires are evil? Is he compelled to act on these impulses without choice? Does he have free will?

You could feel Michael’s gaze on you as you mulled it over. His eyes examined every little feature and movement your face made. His small hands gripped the knees of his pants as anxiety built up within him as he waited for your answer.

“It’s complicated, I think,” you said. “It’s not all his fault but some of it is.”

Michael laid back on the couch as he processed what you said. “I’d never hurt you, y/n.”

He didn’t want you to end up like the others before, they didn’t come back and he was fine with that, but he’d feel terrible if that happened to you. The thought of you being gone forever made him feel a lot of things, sad, angry, lonely… he would never hurt you.

…

“Well, don’t you look nice,” Constance complimented as she opened the door and invited you in. “If you had other plans, dear, you didn’t have to come.”

You laughed, shaking your head, “I wouldn’t call being stood up plans.”

“His loss, Honey,” Constance reassured you, giving you a small pat on the arm.

You had been waiting alone at the restaurant when Constance called you, you immediately accepted. You figured speanding time with Michael was better than going home alone to mope over some dumb guy anyways.

“Where’s Michael?” You asked, surprised he hadn’t already bulldozed you with a hug.

Michael peeked his head from around the corner, he was blushing bright red the moment he saw you. You never looked so pretty before. You were dressed up like a princess.

You tilted your head and smiled, “Why are you being so shy, silly?” You knelt down with your arms wide open.

Michael rushed over, looping his arms around you.

“Sorry again about your date, dear,” Constance consoled you as she grabbed her coat.

“I’ll be fine,” you laughed as she headed towards the door. “I’ve got Michael to cheer me up.”

He pulled away from you beaming, “I can do that.”

You smiled back at him and winked, “Why don’t we start our night with some ice cream?”

He nodded eagerly following you to the kitchen.

“So you were on a date?” Michael asked, hopping onto one of the stools at the breakfast nook.

“Sort of,” you shrugged, getting ice cream out of the freezer and setting it on the counter to soften. “It’s not really a date when the other person doesn’t show up.”

“Is dating like getting married?” He inquired, swinging his legs back and forth.

“No, not exactly,” you answered without missing a beat, juggling your conversation while opening the fridge and grabbing the chocolate syrup and whip cream. “Dating is more of a step towards getting married, people date to figure out if they want to marry the person.”

Michael nodded, “What do you do on a date?”

“Oh, all sorts of things,” you grabbed bowls from the cabinet. “Watch a movie, go out to dinner, walk in the park, just any activity where I can talk and get to know the other person.”

“Are we dating?” Michael asked with an earnest look.

You paused, still holding the bowls, as you turned around to face him. The question caught you completely off guard. “What do you mean?”

“Well, we do all those things together,” he explained. “We eat together, watch movies, play at the park, talk…”

You laughed, “you’re right, we do do all those things together.”

“So we’re dating?”

You sighed, fishing through the drawer for the ice cream scooper. “I’m sorry, sweetie, but we’re not.”

“Why not?” He asked, concern written all over his face. “Don’t you like me?”

“Of course I do,” you murmured, handing him a bowl and a spoon and ruffling his hair. “But when it comes to dating, you should pick someone that's the same age as you.”

“Grandma doesn’t,” he said bluntly.

You bit your lip, trying hard not to laugh or smile, he wasn't wrong. You took a moment to think about your next words carefully. “I guess what I’m trying to say is that you have to be an adult.”

Michael sighed and nodded, picking at his food. He hated all those ‘when you're older’ things. “So will you date me when I’m an adult?”

“Sure, if you don’t mind dating an ugly old lady,” you teased.

“Don’t say that,” he declared, his blue eyes fixated on you, full of determination. “You’ll always be beautiful.”

You smiled and kissed his forehead, “Thank you, Sweetheart.”

…

Michael was overjoyed, his prayers had been granted overnight. He had gone to bed wishing, begging, to be older, to be an adult. He was so desperate to be with you, he never wanted anything so badly.

He stared at his reflection in the mirror, his fingers examining his older face, he turned his head side to side, wondering if you would still think he was cute.

Constance was still so rattled from the shock of finding a full grown Michael asleep in his small bed, that she hadn’t been able to stop shaking all morning.

Michael couldn’t wait to show you the new him. He bounced downstairs to find grandma, she needed to call you, invite you over right now so you could see.

When he first asked, she made up an excuse saying you were too busy, but as days passed he began getting more and more irritable, throwing tantrums, whining and crying for you to come over.

She disconnected the phone. That pushed him over the edge. He screamed, yelling that he hated her, while yanking the phone and cord off the wall.

But she couldn’t risk it, couldn’t risk Michael calling you or you calling the house.

Constance was worried for your well being, how could you accept what she couldn’t, if you refused him after what he did for you, how he grew up just for you, she knew he wouldn’t hesitate to end your life. In a strange way, you represented the last small piece of humanity that Michael had. It would be a shame if he snuffed it out.

He couldn’t sleep, he was still so angry, why was grandma doing this to him. Why was she being so mean? He balled his fists, breathing fast. He didn’t want to listen to her anymore or follow her dumb rules or do anything she says…

Michael seemed to have blacked out after that, because the next thing he knew his hands were wrapped around his grandmother’s throat. He gasped, tears falling from his eyes as he finally let her go.

He didn’t mean to.

The next day Constance called the priest. She had no other alternatives. She had never in her life been so afraid. But when that fell through, and she saw the priest dead on the floor, she finally snapped.

…

All morning you kept looking at your phone, thinking any minute it would light up and ring. When you hadn’t heard from Constance, you became concerned. Typically you watched Michael at least three days a week, if not more. But by the time the afternoon rolled around, and you still hadn’t heard a thing, you decided to call.

You tapped your foot anxiously as you held your phone to your ear, but your stomach dropped when a robotic voice informed you that the line was no longer in service.

Dropping the phone, you immediately bolted out the door. Fortunately, you lived nearby as you began to sprint towards their house. Your mind was racing, as you assumed the worst had happened. You prayed that they were both safe.

You came to a sudden stop, as you stood across the street from their house, a young man emerged from the front door in a hurry. He seemed completely distraught, walking barefoot, tears streaming down his face, eyes bloodshot.

You jogged towards him. “Are you okay?” You asked, voice laced with concern.

He lifted his head at the sound of your voice. “Y/n?” The man gasped, immediately reaching out for you.

You took a few steps back, the poor boy looked like you had just punched him in the gut.

He started crying harder, “Don’t you recognize me?”

You narrowed your eyes, gently placing your hands on his cheeks, directing his face side to side, so you could get a look at him. He was beautiful, gorgeous even, with a sharp jaw, high cheekbones, and clear blue eyes.

“Michael?” You whispered. Looking into his eyes, you knew it was him, even though it was impossible.

“Grandma’s mad at me,” he wailed, his hands clinging to your shirt as he buried his face against your shoulder. You wrapped your arms around him, stroking his back.

“Will you take care of me, y/n?” He sobbed.

“Of course-“ you stopped talking as Constance came outside.

Her face was hard and stoic as she watched you and Michael before she motioned for you to come into the house.

“Let’s go inside,” you murmured, brushing his hair away from his eyes.

At first Michael didn’t budge as he looked over his shoulder back at Constance.

“It’s alright,” you encouraged him, taking his hand and walking back to the house.

Constance forced a smile as she greeted you, “You’re taking this better than I did.”

She gave Michael a cold look, who immediately looked down at his feet as he shuffled into the house.

Once inside, the reality of the situation sunk in as you sat across from a full grown Michael, who was sitting on the floor with his legs crossed. He stared up at you full of adoration.

“So you’re older now…” you began.

He beamed, “Yep! I did it for you.”

“You… did this for me?”

Michael nodded, his eyes still red from crying.

“How?”

He shrugged, “I just wished for it really really hard. I never wanted anything more.” His face turned serious,

“So what do you think?”

“What do I think?” You repeated. You were still trying to figure out why he did this for you. You glanced at him and saw his hopeful expression. “I think… you look very handsome.”

“So you like it?”

“Of course, I do. You did it for me.”

The next day Constance invited you over. Michael was still in his room when you arrived. She seemed tired, distant, expressing that she wasn’t up to going out.

“Y/n, dear,” Constance laid a hand on your shoulder. “Mind taking Michael out for a bit? Could do him some good to get out of the house.”

“Sure,” you nodded, before heading upstairs. Outside Michael's room you could hear the TV, the sound effects gave away that he was busy playing a video game.

“Hey Michael,” you said, leaning against the doorframe to his room. “Want to go out with me?”

“Like a date?” He perked up like a little puppy, dropping his video game controller on his bed.

“Sure,” you laughed. You had never seen him move so fast as he scrambled to his closet and grabbed a pair of tennis shoes and a jacket, putting them on in record time.

“I’m ready,” he said eagerly, taking your hand in his and practically raced down stairs with you stumbling behind him. “Bye Grandma!”

It felt odd, not in a bad way, just different.

Michael was obviously adjusting to his older body. He wasn’t used to being so big or strong, and he was still behaving with the same amount of energy as a boy would, like holding your hand with all his might.

He blushed as you explained that he had to loosen his grip a little because he was so strong now, but you still found his enthusiasm endearing.

“So what would you like to do today?” You asked him.

“Let’s go to the park, then have milkshakes,” he said animatedly.

The two of you walked to the neighborhood park, taking a small stroll around the pond watching the ducks swim. Suddenly Michael bolted towards the playground, dragging you behind him.

“The swings are open!” He shouted.

“Michael,” you half laughed, half shouted, trying to keep up with him.

“Come on,” he said, letting go of your hand and grabbing the swing chains. “I’ll push you!”

“Oh, I don’t know,” you said, embarrassed.

“Please,” He rocked the swing side to side. “It’ll be fun!”

You shook your head as you finally relented, unable to resist his puppy dog eyes.

He grinned, holding the swing steady as you sat down. “Hold on tight,” he whispered in your ear before he started pulling the swing back.

You giggled as you swung forward then back again, his hands catching you each time and pushing you higher and higher. Michael was busy enjoying himself, listening to you laugh as he pushed you harder, he forgot to pay attention to how hard he was pushing you and accidentally pushed you too hard.

You fell forward, landing on your hands and knees. Hissing, you moved so you could sit properly. You bit your lip, tears forming at the corner of your eyes as you tried to bend your knee to get a better look. You had a large gash that stung.

“Y/n, I’m sorry,” he whispered, kneeling in front of you. Michael’s heart was hammering in his chest, he had never seen you upset before… your pain, your tears, hurt him more than the angry words his grandma had shouted at him yesterday.

“I’ll be alright,” you said, mustering up a smile for him.

Michael winced watching the blood drip down your calf. He thought about how the other nannies and sitters bled when they made him mad, they didn’t come back after that. Would you leave him now too?

You scanned the area, hoping there was a bathroom or drinking fountain nearby so you could at least wash some of the blood off.

“Here,” Michael said, taking a hold of your leg as he thought of a way to fix it. “I’ll kiss it better.”

“You don’t have to-“

But he pressed his lips to your knee before you could stop him. The kiss lingered longer than the quick peck you had expected him to give. His eyes were closed, deep in concentration. Lifting his head, he licked the smear of blood off his lips.

“All better,” he chirped.

You ran your fingers over your knee, the cut was gone leaving your knee looked as good as new. “Michael, how did you…”

You dropped the subject as you looked up at him, golden hair shining in the sunlight as he sat back in the grass. It seemed stupid to ask, healing your knee was probably easy compared to changing his age or any of the other strange things he had accomplished.

“Can we go get a milkshake now you?” Michael yawned. “I’m hungry and tired.”

“Sure,” you replied, still dazed.

He held out both of his hands to you, helping you up off the ground, and immediately laced his fingers with yours as he started leading the way.

Michael insisted on sharing a milkshake with you, explaining he had seen couples doing that on TV. The two of you found a table near a window by the corner.

“Want the cherry?” You asked Michael, using the tip of your straw to push it to his side.

Right away he plucked it from the cup and popped it into his mouth with the exception of the stem. “Thanks,” he grinned, still chewing.

“You’re very welcome,” you leaned forward taking a big sip.

Michael bounced, “This has been the best date!”

You chuckled, “It really has been great.”

Out of nowhere, he leaned across the table and kissed your cheek. It was a quick and innocent little peck, but his face was beet red when he sat back down. You bit your lip thinking about how cute he was acting.

Walking home, Michael smiled, a full genuine smile, his eyes lighting up as he gazed down at you. “I like being taller than you,” he laughed.

You smiled back at him, your hand clasped together with his, swinging them between you. As you entered the house, you immediately noted how quiet it was. Something was wrong.

“Constance, we're back,” you called out as you closed the door. You waited for a reply, but all there was was silence.

“Michael,” you said softly, turning to him. “Wait right here, I’m going to go upstairs. Your grandma is probably just taking a nap.”

Michael watched you as you went upstairs, he didn’t understand why you seemed so distressed. He tried to wait like you had asked him to, but Grandma was probably just next door. She did that sometimes.

He looked out the window towards the vacant house then back toward the direction you had gone. He could be back with Grandma before you’d even realize that he had left.

“Grandma?” Michael called wandering into the large old house. He furrowed his brow, running towards the couch when he saw her. “Grandma?”

His heart sped up when he saw her.

“Grandma,” Michael crumbled to his knees. “Hey, wake up.” With shaky hands he held her.

She didn’t move or breathe, her heart had stopped beating… Michael knew a dead body when he saw one, she was gone. This was all his fault, he drove her to this. There was something wrong with him.

“I’m sorry,” he cried, hugging her lifeless body. “I’m sorry.”

“Oh God,” you covered your mouth as you finally found Michael and Constance. “Michael,” you stumbled towards him, immediately taking him in your arms and cradling him against you.

“This is all my fault,” he sobbed, curling his knees to his chest, hands clutching your arm. “I’m a monster.”

“No, you’re not a monster,” you soothed. “You didn’t do this.”

You rocked Michael in your arms, your eyes surveyed the living room, there was an empty pill bottle left discarded on the nearby coffee table along with a glass of liquor. You couldn’t understand why she would kill herself.

“I-I should call someone,” you said, trying to hold yourself together.

“Don’t call the police,” a man’s voice advised seemingly out of nowhere.

You snapped your head around and stared wide eyed at the dark haired man who just appeared out of nowhere. He was sitting in one of the arm chairs, legs crossed with relaxed posture.

“They’ll just take Michael away. You don’t want that do you?” He asked you in a calm voice.

You shook your head, your sweet Micheal had been through enough already, “Who are you? I thought this house was vacant.”

The man blatantly ignored your questions and continued, “You should go pack Michael’s things, He’s going to be staying here with us for a while.”

Michael’s hands gripped you tightly. “Will you stay with me?” He croaked.

You could feel the man’s eyes on you, observing your reaction closely. Gently, you wiped Michael’s eyes, then tilted his head up. “Of course, I’ll stay with you.”

Michael sniffled, “Forever?”

You swallowed, glimpsing at Constance’s lifeless form then back to Michael. “Forever.”

The man stayed with Michael as you went next door. You felt like you were on autopilot as you folded his shirts and packed them into a duffle bag.

Your life was about to change drastically, but you couldn’t refuse him. You couldn’t just abandon him when he needed you the most, especially not after the only family he had killed herself.

You knew Michael was different, very different, but he still needed someone, someone that could accept and love him even with all the terrible and strange things that came with him… he needed you.

It didn’t take you long to piece together that Ben and the others in the house were ghosts, or perhaps they preferred spirits.

Living in a haunted house took some getting used to. Michael adjusted faster than you did, you were secretly grateful that he wanted to share a room with you, so at least you weren’t alone at night.

It was unnerving seeing them from the corner of your eye, only for them to disappear when you turned your head. Ben was the only one you had officially met so far, but you were aware that his family along with many others were trapped in the house.

Michael quickly began to view Ben as a father figure. They spent a lot of time together playing games and having long conversations.

You were happy that Michael was opening up to someone. From what you had gathered Ben was a psychologist, you hoped that he’d be able to help Michael, especially with the trauma of losing Constance.

…

You were doing laundry and other little chores around the house while Michael was busy with some father and son bonding with Ben.

As you were getting clothes out of the dryer and into a wicker basket, you felt the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. Looking up, you saw a young man with blonde hair like Michael’s staring at you from the doorway.

Clutching Michael’s yellow t-shirt, you stared back at the man, who then sneered and simply vanished. You stayed planted there for several seconds as you wondered who he was.

“Don’t let him get to you,” a woman’s voice said gently. You whipped around to see a woman with long strawberry blonde hair.

“He won’t do anything,” she explained with a half smile. “Probably more curious than anything else.”

You furrowed your brow, “Curious about what?”

“You,” she answered. “And about why you’ve stayed.” Her eyes traveled to the shirt in your hands. “Guess some of us are just surprised you’ve stuck around.”

“Because Michael’s different from everyone else?” you questioned.

“That’s one way to put it,” she sighed and leaned against the washing machine. “He’s… he acts differently around you. You mean a lot to him.”

Looking at her sorrowful expression, it seemed like there was something she else wanted to say. You jumped as a baby began to cry.

“I have to go,” she said, excusing herself.

You sighed, shaking your head, living with ghosts was like having a bunch of eccentric roommates sometimes. You dropped Michael’s shirt with the rest of clean laundry in the basket, then knelt down to lift it up. Walking into the living room, you found Michael and Ben.

Michael sprung off the couch and darted towards you.

“So what did you and Ben do today?” You chuckled.

“We just talked,” he replied, taking the basket from you. You waved to Ben before you and Michael headed up stairs.

“Oh, about what?”

Michael shrugged, “Just stuff.” He paused mid-step and cleared his throat. “You look really pretty today.”

You bit your lip, face heating up a bit. Despite all the compliments Michael gave you daily, he had this way about him that made you believe every little one, even on a day like this where you were dressed in just joggers and a tee.

“Thank you, Michael.”

…

Ben was gone.

Michael sat there between the bodies, crushed as another parental figure abandoned him. Questions ran through his mind. Why did everyone leave? What was wrong with him? How could he do these things?

Sniffling, his eyes widened as you stepped in. His pulse spiked and he began to panic. He didn’t hear you come back to the house.This wasn’t part of his plan, you weren’t supposed to see this.

You were quiet, so quiet with a vacant look in your eye as you stared at all the blood on the floor.

Ben, Tate, grandma had all yelled at him, they called him a monster or a freak or a coward, but you didn’t say a word.

You had seen what he had done, seen the bodies for yourself. You looked at him with a sadness in your eyes that Michael couldn’t bear. You simply retreated back up to the room you and him shared.

Tears spilled freely down his face as he sat on the floor. Michael had never been so scared in his life. Were you in there packing your belongings? Were you going to leave? What would he do without you?

That’s why he had to kill them in the first place, because he didn't want to be separated from you. There was no other way. The new owners would call the police once they found out you and him were living there, and the police would take him away from you.

Michael had noticed how stressed it had made you too. He could sense your worry, no matter how hard you tried to hide it. From the very moment the realtor took the for sale sign down, you and him both knew everything was at risk.

He just wanted to keep that from happening, he was happy here with you, happier than he had ever been. So he killed the new owners and got rid of them for good, this was his home now.

He curled into himself, hands over his head as he wailed.

“Michael?” Your voice was so soft that he didn’t hear you at first when you returned. “Michael, you should change.”

He peeked up, surprised you came back. You kept your distance, not crossing the threshold as if there was an invisible barrier. “Y/n?”

“You should change out of that,” you said again, looking at the black latex suit he was in.

He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. “Okay,” he nodded, slowly getting to his feet.

Going into the bathroom, he noticed you had set out some clean clothes for him to change into.

Even though you were waiting for him in the room, the fear of you abandoning him hadn’t left. Michael hadn’t expected it when his grandmother left him. Were you just waiting for an opportunity to leave him? Lull him into a false sense of security then abandon him when he least suspects it?

Michael shook his head, you wouldn’t do that.

“She’s not going to leave,” he whispered to himself before he pulled the clean white t-shirt on and the pair of pajama bottoms you had picked out for him.

You were sitting on the edge of the bed when he emerged from the bathroom. You weren’t acting like yourself and it worried him. He noticed you hadn’t moved a muscle since he went in, you had just been staring at your hands the whole time.

Michael’s fingers curled and uncurled as he awkwardly stood there. Wishing he knew what to say or do to make things right.

“I’m sorry,” he started suddenly, falling to his knees in front of you. “I just didn’t want to be taken away from you. I didn’t want to leave this house.” He took your hands in his, looking up at you with genuine concern.

You nodded, you were able to piece that much together. Michael was scared and he handled the situation the only way he could, the only way he believed would keep you and him together. It was just a lot to process.

Michael was your sweet boy, you never would have believed he was capable of something so terrible, but what was even more frightening for you was how you seemed to just accept it so easily. You weren’t mad or upset at him. Logically, you should’ve wanted to be far away from him after seeing those bodies on the floor, but looking at his face, you still cared for him, loved him.

“We should get some rest,” you suggested.

Michael swallowed thickly, climbing into the bed beside you as you turned out the lights.

He couldn’t sleep, he was afraid that if he closed his eyes you’d take the chance and leave him in the middle of night. You felt both of his hands grip the back of your nightgown as he pressed his forehead against the center of your back.

His mind kept returning to the fact that you had seen the truth, what he was capable of. Why did things have to change?

“Michael?” You could feel him tremble against you as he started sobbing again. When he didn’t respond, you tried to sit up, but that only made him cry harder while his fingers curled tighter, trying to keep you from leaving.

“Don’t leave me,” he whimpered.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you promised.

He finally loosened his grip.

You rolled over onto your side. Laying face to face, you brushed away his tears.

Even in the dark, Michael thought you were the most beautiful person in the world. Always so kind and loving, he wanted to keep you forever.

“Come here,” you said, opening your arms to embrace him. He rested his head on your chest, listening to your heartbeat.

“I’ve hurt people, not just the ones from earlier,” Michael admitted, swallowing thickly. “And I think I’m going to keep hurting people.”

Your fingers soothingly scratched his scalp as you held him close. He took in a deep breath, working up the nerve to finally ask the questions that were truly bothering him.

“Can you still love me?” He asked in a small voice. “Even though I’ve done bad things?”

“I don’t think I could ever stop loving you,” you answered without pause. “It’s a little scary for me to think about, that’s all.”

“You’re scared of me?” He asked, hurt evident in his voice.

“No, I’m not afraid of you,” you reassured him, rubbing his shoulder. “It’s just that loving someone this much is scary.”

“I love you the same way,” Michael explained. “I’ll never stop loving you, y/n.”

…

The house was unbearably warm.

The heat left you drained, barely able to lift a finger, even though you just woke up. You kicked the sheets off but remained in bed, even that small action left you feeling exhausted.

You laid there, still, listening to the hoarse caws of the crows that seemed to appear overnight. They lingered around the house, circling it at night.

“Y/n?” Michael called. You usually didn’t sleep in so late, it was almost the afternoon.

You smiled weakly at him, “Morning.”

“Are you okay?”

“Just tired,” you stretched your arms over your head on the bed. “And warm.”

Michael didn’t seem bothered by the strange heat that seemed to smother you. The air from the basement all the way to the attic was hot, there was no escaping it.

“Can you get me some water?” You croaked.

Michael nodded, heading downstairs and quickly returning to you with a glass of ice water. You shamelessly drained the glass, droplets rolling down your chin and neck.

“Thank you,” you murmured, handing him the empty glass, before falling back onto your pillow.

He stood there for a moment, wondering if there was anything else he could do. You looked so miserable, strands of your hair clinging to your sweaty forehead, your nightgown hiked up to cool your legs.

Going into the bathroom, he prepared a washcloth with cold water. The bed dipped as he sat next to you, tenderly he dabbed the washcloth over your face. You hummed appreciatively, extending your neck as he moved it lower. He stroked the cloth over your collarbone, then down closer to your chest.

He watched it rise and fall, hypnotically, your skin looked so soft, so tempting. Ben had talked to him about these kinds of feelings, about men and women and romantic love. He had said this was the kind of talk all fathers should have with their sons. He has seen Michael wanting to be closer to you, his desires to feel your skin against his. Ben assured him that it was natural and a completely normal part of growing up. But Ben had also made it clear that there were lines Michael couldn’t cross, lines that if he didn’t follow, he would end up hurting you.

Michael sighed, pulling his hand away. Folding the wash cloth, he laid it on your forehead before leaving.

…

Michael headed downstairs when he heard the front door open. You were still in a deep sleep as he tiptoed out of the room. He paused, finding three uninvited guests were standing in the entryway by the staircase.

“I am in the presence of my Lord,” the man gasped and bowed. The two women behind him followed in suit.

“Who are you?” Michael asked, tilting his head and rubbing the back of his neck.

“I am Anton LaVey, Black Pope of the Church of Satan,” the man introduced himself, then turned to his colleagues. “And there are my cardinals. I faked my death to prepare for this day.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Michael walked slowly down the steps. “What’s going on here?”

“We followed a dark start from the west,” one of the cardinals explained eagerly. “The signs were impossible to miss: the temperature in this house, a home built over the portal to Hell, and the crows worshiping from above.”

“The omens are complete,” the other one added. “You’re the chosen one.”

“The time has come to remove the scales from your eyes, to show you your true power,” Anton stated.

Michael smiled, full of excitement, “Alright, just make sure you’re quiet, y/n is sleeping.”

…

You woke up to the sound of hail falling on the roof. It frightened you at first. Instead of the typical soothing sounds of rain or hail, this was louder, more violent, like large stones crashing from the sky.

You wondered if the storm was the source of the strange dreams you had all night, now you could only recall the screams from them.

Slipping out of bed, you walked to the window drawing the curtains. The night sky was a strange color, dark red clouds hung above the house coupled with a full red moon. You watched the bizarre weather outside, red rain mixed with rock sized hail. The storm seemed to at least alleviate the constant heat in the house.

Turning around, you noticed Michael’s absence from the bed. Wrapping a white sheet around your shoulders, you wandered downstairs to find him. Reaching the dining room, you found Michael with three strangers wearing black and red cloaks.

There was blood on the table and floor, but no body.

Michael beamed at you and offered you his hand, “y/n, I’ve got something to tell you.”

The Antichrist, it should’ve come as more of a shock, but with all the insane things that have happened lately, it made sense. It also should’ve changed how you felt, but it didn’t, Michael was still Michael. While there was no doubting the evil he was capable of, you still saw all the good, all the love.

How could you hold it against him?

Michael laid there, eyes wide open as you slept beside him. He knew his mother was coming, that she planned on ending his life.

The woman hadn’t bothered to speak to him, see him, and just like the rest of his supposed family, she was going to hurt him too. Sadly, he was no longer surprised by any of this.

He could feel her approaching, a knife held tightly in her fist as she prepared to bring it down and end his life. Without having to move a muscle, Michael conjured up flames that ignited around Vivien’s feet.

Her screams jolted you awake. Another spirit, the one you had briefly seen before, saved her while you tried to stop Michael.

“She was going to kill me,” he argued.

You saw the knife discarded on the floor for yourself. This house was no longer a safe place for Michael or yourself. The same day you and Michael left the old mansion.

…

Living with Ms. Mead wasn’t what you had expected. It was surprisingly wholesome with meals shared at the dining table and family outings every weekend. If it wasn’t for the satanic altar, you’d probably forget that she was a satanist altogether.

Ms. Mead treated you both well. Welcoming you into her home as if you and Michael were family. At first, you had been worried that she wouldn’t accept having you around, but she was just as warm and friendly with you as she was with Michael.

“What do you think?” Michael asked as he emerged from the bathroom in a black t-shirt and black jeans. Ms. Mead had taken him shopping for clothes. Michael was excited to show you what they had picked out.

You sat the nail polish on the nightstand as you sat up, giving Michael your full attention.

“Black looks good on you,” you approved, looking him up and down. The outfit definitely suited him, much better than his old clothes.

He smiled, obviously proud of his choices. “What were you doing?” He asked as he joined you on the bed, criss crossing his legs.

“I was just painting my toenails,” you shrugged.

Michael gently touched your calf, his fingers tracing over your skin down to your ankle, while he admired your freshly painted toes.

“Want me to paint yours?”

He yanked off his boots and socks, tossing them on the floor and causing you to laugh. You rearranged yourself so you were sitting on your knees. Michael’s pale boney feet rested on your thighs.

“What color do you want?” You asked.

“Black.”

He laid back on the bed, feet on the head board as he wiggled his toes while he waited for them to dry.

“Read to me,” Michael requested in a whiny tone. “Please,” he added quickly as you lifted your brow.

You grabbed the worn book, opening it to where you left off, but before you started reading Michael interrupted you.

“Here, lay next to me,” he offered, wiggling to the other side of the bed to give you room.

You stretched out beside him, side to side, and started reading. It didn’t take long before Michael’s head was on stomach and his arm draped over your hips as he cuddled against you. He closed his eyes listening to the sound of your voice as it lulled him to sleep.

You tucked the bookmark back into the book and sat it on the bed. Absentmindedly you ran your fingers through his hair.

Over such a short time, he had changed so much, and not just physically, he was acting older, demonstrating maturity and restraint, although he still had his moments like this where he wanted to be held and babied. But, you figured, everyone had moments like this even if they never ask for it.

You perked up when you noticed Ms. Mead standing in the doorway. How long has she been watching?

“Let him sleep,” she said softly.

Carefully you moved Michael and covered him with a blanket, then followed Ms. Mead into the kitchen. She had the tea kettle on the stove.

“You really do love him, don’t you?” Ms. Mead asked, looking at you curiously. While she had been courteous towards you, she was curious about the true nature of your relationship to Michael.

You tilted your head, wondering where this was coming from all of a sudden.

“I’m just surprised,” she explained. “Not many people could accept him for what he is, even more so, someone who isn’t a follower of his father. But I’m glad to know that you truly care for him.” She motioned for you to have a seat at the table, and placed a cup of tea on a little saucer in front of you.

You thanked her, before gently blowing on the hot cup and taking a sip.

“He obviously adores you, which is why I allowed you to come with him,” she continued, taking her seat across from you with her own cup. “Guess I just feel protective of him already, wanted to see for myself if you were just stringing him along.”

You laughed slightly and shook your head, “I know what you mean, I was worried about you too. But you treat him just like a mother would, and I know he loves you for it.”

You and Ms. Mead smiled at each other while you finished your cup of tea. Your smile grew wider as a sleepy Michael slowly staggered into the kitchen.

He rubbed the sleep from his eyes, “Can we have pancakes for dinner?”

“Of course, dear,” Ms. Mead obliged.

…

Michael had been arrested, leaving you a complete mess waiting at the station with Ms. Mead. The police

refused to let you see him no matter how much you begged and pleaded.

You were sitting in the lobby, staring at the assholes who wouldn’t let you see Michael, when a man dressed in a fine suit with a black hat came in, he strode right past the officers and straight to the holding cells with one of the guards leading the way.

A few minutes later the well dressed man and Michael were heading directly to the exit. You immediately followed them out.

You cupped Michael’s cheek, thumb caressing the red swollen mark by his eye. “Did they do that to you?”

“It doesn’t hurt too much,” he reassured you, placing a hand on your waist.

Ariel cleared his throat, standing next to a black vehicle, “Michael it’s time for us to leave.” His gaze landed on you, a small sneer forming on his lips.

Michael nodded, opening the car door for you.

Ariel’s eyes went wide, “I’m afraid she can’t come with us. Our school is exclusively for warlocks.”

“Then I won’t be going,” Michael stated flatly, slamming the car shut.

Ariel’s jaw dropped, “I saved you… I’m offering to take you to a place where you can flourish… where you can reach your full potential. You’re going to throw that all away for some woman?”

Michael narrowed his eyes. “I’m not leaving her, ever,” he stressed.

Ariel scowled, grinding his teeth, he was considering using magic to force Michael in the car, but if Michael truly is the Alpha, like he suspects, then it would be suicide. His eyes darted to you, if he attempted to do anything to you, it would be safe to assume that the consequences would be even worse than death.

“It’s not like you’ll never see her again. A boy’s school just isn’t the right place for a young lady to be,” Ariel reasoned.

“The only place for her is with me,” Michael said, raising his voice. The two men stared at each other, it was clear that Michael wasn’t going to budge on the matter.

“Fine!” Ariel relented, yanking the car door open and getting in. It wasn’t going to be easy to get others to go with this foolishness, but he couldn’t afford to let the Alpha slip through his fingers.

Michael pulled the door open and waited for you to slide into the backseat before he scooted in after you. He placed his hand over yours, possessively, eyes fixated on Ariel as cold anger radiated off of him.

The school wasn’t what you had expected. The underground structure was large and warm, but despite the size and construction, you couldn’t help but compare it to a cave. Already, you missed fresh air and sunlight as you followed Ariel, Michael still holding your hand for comfort.

When Ariel introduced Michael to the group, he didn’t say a thing about you, just sort glazed over the fact that you even existed despite the puzzled gazes of the male students and staff.

After a short tour, you and Michael were led to the room you both would be sharing in. Once inside, Ariel finally addressed you, giving you a few simple rules, as he put it, to follow.

You were never to wander the school without an escort. You had to keep your distance from the other students and take your meals at different times than everyone else. Finally you had to wear a uniform, it was similar to the boy’s uniform, but instead of slacks, you had a full length skirt.

Ariel left the two of you to get settled in and gathered the others in his office to explain the situation.

“So,” John Henry mocked. “Our supposed Alpha, the one who will overthrow The Supreme and lead us to the top, can’t be without his little girlfriend?”

Ariel huffed, “I understand the girl is an inconvenience, but she’s just a minor obstacle. Michael won’t need her now that he’s here with his brothers.”

“Doubt it,” John Henry muttered, taking a quick puff of his cigarette. “Did you see the way he looks at her? She practically walks on water in his eyes.”

“We just need to separate them, wean him off her slowly,” Ariel explained. “Then he’ll discard her.”

“I don’t know,” Behold said, shaking his head, “Love and devotion is a powerful thing.”

John Henry rolled his eyes, “Right, because the 4 of us know what that’s like… none of us have ever cared about anyone but ourselves.”

…

You helped Michael straighten his bow tie, then brushed his hair out of his face.

“Perfect,” you chirped, taking a step back to admire how handsome he looked in his school uniform.

He smiled, fixing his lapel before his hands ran down the front of his jacket, smoothing out the wrinkles. “Ariel and the others are expecting me,” he started. “But they haven’t told me what we’re doing.”

It’s been only a month since your arrival, but from what you had gathered, Michael took to magic like a duck takes to water. Everyday he surprised you with a new trick or spell. Just the other day he surprised you with a beautiful white rose turning the petals pitch black right before your eyes.

“I’m sure whatever it is, you’ll be amazing.”

“Wish they’d let me bring you,” he muttered, pouting a little as he looked at his reflection.

You shook your head, “I’ll be right here, waiting for you.”

Michael brought your hand to his chest, Ariel had been keeping him so busy with classes and studying that he felt like he barely had time for you lately.

He didn’t appreciate being treated like a fool. He knew what his ‘brothers’ were up to, trying to keep him busy as if he’d just forget about you because he has homework. None of them could ever perceive the depths he’d go for you, hell, not even Michael fully knew how far he’d go to keep you by his side.

Grudgingly, he released your hand, he didn’t want to have to listen to some lecture about tardiness from Ariel. And knowing Ariel he’d figure out a way to put all the blame on you, while making some snide comment about women and their inability to be punctual. The whole battle of the sexes between the warlocks and the witches was getting old.

Later that day, Michael returned to you with a bloody nose and his body completely drained of energy. You rose from your seat at the desk as he collapsed on the bed still dressed.

First, you went to the adjoining bathroom, retrieving a damp washcloth. Sitting on the edge of the bed, you gently dabbed the dried blood from his face.

“How did the meeting go?” You asked. “What did they want?”

“To evaluate me,” he explained, his eyes half lidded. “I passed,” he smiled weakly.

“I’m so proud of you,” you said, scooting you to the end of the bed and undoing the buckles on his shoes, before slipping them off his feet.

“Thank you,” he whispered, closing his eyes and snuggling against his pillow.

…

You watched Michael, his body was completely tense, stockstill, except for the hand that was drawing rapidly without pause. It was like he was in a trance, listening to a voice that you couldn’t hear.

Michael couldn’t let the witches leave. Ariel and the others were useless, unable to convince the council, but Michael could, he would prove to them just how powerful he is.

He gasped suddenly, taking you by surprise. Looking down, he admired his work, the Hotel Cortez, the gaping mouth of hell.

Michael turned to face you, “I have to leave, but I won’t be gone long.” He smiled triumphantly, “I found a way to show them I’m the Alpha, that I’m the next Supreme.”

It was easy for him, of course, like taking a casual stroll through the park. One of the benefits of being the Antichrist, he figured, having dominion over hell and all evil places born from it.

First he rescued Queenie, freeing her from the hotel, then they made a trip to Madison Montgomery’s personal hell. With his proof in tow, he returned to the school.

Watching Cordelia pass out from the shock brought him more satisfaction than he anticipated, but hearing her admit that he could be the next Supreme was even sweeter.

He stood there holding his head high with you at his side. While Cordelia addressed the group, sharing her vision. It was ironic that a vision warning her of the end, was the final straw, finally convincing her to allow him to attempt the Seven Wonders.

“In two weeks' time, at the rise of the blood moon, you will take the test of the Seven Wonders,” she announced, eyes locked with Michael’s. “That is, if you still want to.”

Everyone turned to face him, awaiting his decision. He glanced at you, squeezing your hand tightly before letting it go as he approached Cordelia.

“I do.”

Myrtle Snow knitted her brow, it hadn’t escaped any of their attention that there was a woman on the side of the warlocks.

“My dear,” she began, getting your attention. “Why are you here? You’re not a witch, are you?”

“I’m not,” you shook your head with a polite smile.

“She’s with me,” Michael stated firmly, hands clasped behind his back as his gaze pierced Myrtle’s.

“Of course, he’s got a girlfriend,” Madison rolled her eyes.

Cordelia inhaled deeply as she returned to the matter at hand. “No male has ever made the attempt,” she warned, redirecting the conversation to the matter at hand. “And if you succeed, you will be the next Supreme, and it will change everything.”

On the cusp of the blood moon, the warlocks gathered to celebrate Michael. He almost threw a fit when Ariel informed him that you weren’t permitted to attend, adding that attendance for the ceremony was strictly warlocks.

Ariel’s hands balled into fists as you talked Michael down, convincing him that for this type of occasion it was polite to respect tradition.

Ariel was displeased that his plan wasn’t working. Michael’s attachment to you was still strong, the same as it was when he first arrived at the school. What good would it be to have an Alpha that bent to the will of a woman?

Michael insisted that tomorrow night you were present for the Seven Wonders, going as far as threatening to not perform if you weren’t there.

When Ariel finally relented, Michael followed him downstairs for the ceremony.

John Henry fled after the blessing. The following day when the witches had arrived to observe Michael’s abilities, John Henry still hadn’t returned. None of the other warlocks questioned his absence, instead they were focused on the daunting task at hand, hoping Michael could accomplish what no warlock had ever done before.

Michael passed each test with ease to the dismay of the witches and to the satisfaction of the warlocks.

Telekinesis, Concilium, Transmutation, Divination, Pyrokinesis, Vitalum Vitalis… Michael made them look like child’s play. With each challenge Michael impressed you more and more, accomplishing magic that you had never imagined. His eyes would lock with yours and he’d smile triumphantly after each task as you cheered and congratulated him with the rest of the warlocks.

Descensum was the final test and the most perilous. Michael was the only one who didn’t seem worried about the outcome.

Unexpectedly, Cordelia added an additional condition, Behold was the first to object, the others soon followed. She requested for Michael to retrieve someone from the depths of hell, someone who failed this exact test.

“That’s impossible. Those who don’t return from Descensum are gone forever,” Behold defended. “Property of the underworld.”

“No other Supreme’s been made to this, ever,” Baldwin added. “This is not only unfair, this is suicide.”

“Enough,” Ariel spoke up with some urgency. “Cordelia, I need a word.” The Supreme and the Grand Chancellor retreated into his office for a private discussion.

You tugged on Michael’s sleeve to get his attention, then guided him to the corner furthest from everyone in the room.

“What is it?” He asked gently, immediately noting the anxious look on your face.

“This sounds dangerous,” you started, fingers clutching his jacket sleeve tighter. “And now they’re making it even harder…”

He stepped closer to you, his hands cupping your face. “I can do this.”

“But what if you get trapped there like that other girl,” you whispered. “I don’t want to lose you.”

“That’s not going to happen. I’m stronger than she was,” Michael assured you. “Trust me.” He dried your eyes.

Taking your hand in his, he led you towards Ariel’s office. The doors opened revealing Cordelia and Ariel inside.

“It’s okay,” Michael smiled. “I’ll get your friend back.”

Returning to the music room, Michael prepared for the final test.

“Deduce me in tenebris vita ad extremum it salutaret inferi,” he chanted laying on the floor. You were right beside him, on your knees, while everyone else stood in a circle around him. “Deduce me in tenebris vita ad extremum it salutaret inferi, Descensum.”

You stayed seated by Michael as his eyes closed and his spirit descended to the underworld. The others got comfortable, finding seats and idly conversing with each other.

Time seemed to slow down as you waited with bated breath for him to come back. The thought of losing him scared you more than anything ever had. Your whole life revolved around him.

Michael gasped, drawing in a deep breath as he sat up immediately. You pulled him into a tight hug, relieved that he returned to you. His energy obviously spent as he rested against you like a rag doll.

The others gathered around. The witches automatically taking note that Misty hadn’t returned.

“Well that’s that,” Madison said, crossing her arms. “C'est la vie.”

“This was not a fair test,” Ariel objected, concerned more with having lost the opportunity for a male Supreme than the harrowing task Michael had just been through.

“What happened?” Cordelia asked. “Where’s Misty?”

Michael gave her a sideways glance, his face partially resting on your shoulder as you held him close, he looked at her disinterested before he buried the rest of his face in the crook of your neck.

“Isn’t it obvious, darling?” Myrtle spoke up. “She’s right where she’s been.”

Suddenly dust manifested in the form of a woman’s body. Cordelia fell to her knees as Misty was revived.

As the witches tended to their sister, the warlocks helped a weary Michael off the floor. He leaned against the table for support, still catching his breath from his recent excursion to hell. He reached out for you, placing his hands on your waist, as you stood between his legs with his head on your stomach, he drew comfort just by being near you.

Michael straightened up as he felt Misty’s eyes upon him, his hands still lingering on your waist. His jaw tensed, noting her fearful expression. But before Misty could say anything, Cordelia stumbled back and her nose began to bleed.

“Oh my God,” Cordelia whispered.

Misty went straight to her side, “What’s happening?”

“What always happens when a new Supreme rises,” Ariel interjected.

“The old one fades away,” Behold explained.

“We demand what’s ours,” Ariel added.

Myrtle scoffed, “You’re a pompous ass.”

Michael stepped forward, an air of confidence and power about him. “I did everything you asked,” he started. “I descended into Hell, and I did what you couldn’t. I brought her back. I passed the Seven Wonders. Unless you want to add another one?” He challenged.

“No,” Cordelia answered. “There can be no doubt. You are the next Supreme.” She collapsed to the ground, losing consciousness again.

…

The staff and other students were beaming with pride over the accomplishments of their brother. Michael was elated, he was one step closer to fulfilling his purpose.

In celebration of the return of Misty Day and the rise of a new Supreme, everyone gathered in the music room. While you were on your way to join the rest, Ariel stopped you.

“Y/n,” He called.

“Grand Chancellor,” you greeted.

He smiled, but it was obviously forced just like the tone of his voice, too pleasant. “I was hoping to have a moment of your time.”

You raised your brow, “I suppose.”

“We’re all so proud of Michael and what he has achieved,” he began, hands clasped in front him. “It’s truly a major turning point for our kind, to finally rise out of the shadow of our counterparts, the witches.”

“Yes, I’ve heard,” you muttered, hearing music play from the room and a woman singing.

“It has been such a struggle to get to this point,” he stressed.“It would be a great setback for warlocks should Michael be unable to focus on his duties as Supreme.”

“I’m not sure what you’re getting at,” you took a step back.

Ariel sighed, losing his patience, “You are a distraction. You are not the person Micheal needs to concern himself with, you’re not a warlock or a witch, you’re just some girl.”

“But I-“

“Don’t you see,” he interrupted you, getting heated. “He’s with his people now, he no longer needs you.”

You closed your mouth as his words sunk in. Maybe he was right. You hated to admit it, even just to yourself, but it was as if he was speaking your own fears out loud. You weren’t sure how you fit into all this, and for the last couple of months, you worried that Michael truly didn’t need you.

Standing on the interior balcony, Michael’s eyes narrowed as he watched Ariel enter the music room late. Michael had been waiting for you to join him but you were nowhere in sight.

The two warlocks nodded in acknowledgement at each other as Michael waited a few moments longer, he could care less about the performance taking place below. Concerned about your tardiness, he went to find you. Ariel shook his head in disappointment as he watched Michael leave.

Michael headed upstairs and entered your room. “Are you alright?” He asked.

“I’m fine,” you answered, taking a seat on the bed and mustering a smile for Michael.

He could tell you were lying, you were visibly upset and on the verge of tears. “Don’t lie to me,” he said firmly.

“Michael,” you started, your eyes finally meeting his. Looking up at him you couldn’t help but think of all the things he had accomplished lately, developing his powers, passing all these tests, he was doing so many great things, so why were you here? “Do you still need me?”

“Of course, I do,” he responded without pause. He then shook his head. “Even if I didn’t need you, I want you.” He wondered where all this was coming from, was this because he wasn’t spending enough time with you? Was Ariel’s idiotic plan affecting you?

Michael sat across from you at the desk. “Are you thinking about leaving?”

“I don’t want to leave,” you said softly. “But are you sure I’m not distracting you?”

“Is this Ariel’s doing? Did he say something to you?” Michael pursed his lips, jaw clenched. The Grand Chancellor was really pushing his luck. Michael figured it might be necessary to remind him who was the Alpha, the future Supreme.

Getting to his feet, his brow lowered as he thought about what to do. His hands curled into fists that were shaking out of anger.

“Michael,” you pleaded, grabbing his arm and pulling him towards you. “Stop, please.”

“He wants you to leave me,” he snapped angrily. “I won’t let that happen.”

You rushed after Michael as stormed out of the room. The sliding black doors of Ariel’s office slammed open with a flick of Michael’s wrist.

“Michael-“ Ariel started but was immediately flung to the wall.

Your eyes widened, watching as Ariel’s hands grasped at his neck, his nails puncturing his skin as he scratched while desperately gasping for air. His legs were kicking and flailing about as he was being suffocated.

“Michael,” you whispered, taking his hand in yours. “Micheal, stop,” you begged.

He looked at you from the corner of his eye.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you assured him. “And Ariel finally understands.” You looked at Ariel who managed to nod. “See,” you said, rubbing his arm. “You got your point across.”

Ariel fell to the floor, landing on his hand and knees, panting.

“What’s going on in here?” Behold questioned wandering into the office.

“Nothing,” Ariel croaked, slowly rising to his feet.

Behold didn’t look convinced. He was figuring out that Michael couldn’t be trusted, wasn’t what he had presented himself to be. John Henry was missing and the witches had their suspicions as well.

“Michael lost control, just for a moment, he’s been under a lot of stress,” you explained calmly. “He’s due for a break.”

Behold lifted his brow, Michael just looked straight up pissed in his opinion. “Alright,” he muttered, the last thing he needed was for Michael to turn that anger on him. He stood there watching as you and Michael left, before asking Ariel if needed anything.

Returning to your room, Micheal immediately embraced you, hugging you from behind as he buried his face into your hair. You two stood there for several minutes, his arms holding you firmly in place.

“I should speak to my father,” he murmured finally.

You nodded.

Michael’s hold loosened, “I should go alone.” He sighed, touching your hair gently. “I won’t be gone long.”

…

When the witches, Bubbles and Myrtle, arrived, you were tasked with entertaining them until Ariel and Bladwin returned. They had no trouble making themselves at home while you served champagne and Myrtle played the theremin.

When Ariel and Baldwin entered the music room, the two witches insisted that you join them and the warlocks for the dinner they had prepared.

“Bubbles, you’ve exceeded your promise,” Ariel complimented. “This is a meal fit for a Supreme.”

She chuckled, “Oh, thank you so much.”

It truly was quite a spread, platters of food you probably couldn’t even pronounce, sat on the table presented in a most lavish way. It seemed excessive that there was so much food for just 5 people.

“Where is our dear Michael?” Myrtle questioned looking at you. “I was hoping he could join us.”

“In the wilderness,” Baldwin answered for you, with a hint of disbelief in his voice. “Literally. Michael has decided that he needs to be completely alone.”

“I’m surprised you’re not with him dear,” Myrtle stated, her eyes still on you. “The two of you seemed attached at the hip.”

You could feel Ariel watching you closely. “He just needed some time to himself,” you shrugged with a smile.

“Cordelia had a similar awakening,” she shared with you, before offering Ariel more wine.

You listened attentively to Myrtle’s story about the amazing little shop in Madrid where she attained the bottle of wine. You didn’t know much about wine, but from what you gathered from her story, this was most likely the nicest and most expensive wine you’d ever try in your life.

“This has been such a delight,” Myrtle announced. “I knew, if we could dine together, we could find commonality and, dare I say, friendship.”

“Oh, my. It’s getting late,” she added with a slight yawn.

“Oh. It is.” Ariel agreed, laughing weakly. “Very late. But I feel like we’ve finally gotten to know each other.”

“Oh, don’t bother,” Bubbles said, gesturing to the full table. “We’ll clear everything up.”

You offered to stay and lend a hand with cleaning to the surprise of Bubbles and Myrtle. How a kind girl like yourself wound up with someone like Michael, seemed like such a cruel fate.

During dinner, Bubbles had already determined that you were innocent. You weren’t involved with John Henry’s death or the plot to overthrow their coven and kill the witches. Seemed that Michael kept you out of all the seediness and corruption happening around you.

“Thanks again for dinner,” you said, clearing the plates from the table. “You really are a fantastic chef.”

“I’m a woman of many talents,” Bubbles boasted.

“How did you become involved with our future Supreme?” Myrtle inquired, taking a sip of her glass of wine.

“I’ve known him for a long time,” You answered vaguely, but Bubbles could see right through you, she could see directly to the feelings you harbored for Michael.

They watched as you carried the dishes into the kitchen. Bubbles sighed, “Poor girl’s only crime is falling for the bad guy.”

“Suppose we can’t hold it against her,” Myrtle commented. “We've all been there at some point or another.”

Bubbles chuckled, “You’re right, but few can say they’re in love with the devil himself.”

“It’s terribly romantic, isn’t it?” Myrtle mused, tilting her head. She sighed, “Well, what else did you hear?”

“They murdered one of their own,” Bubbles answered in a serious tone. “And now they mean to murder all of us.”

“Well, it’s perfectly clear,” Myrtle continued, swirling her wine glass. “It’s kill or be killed.”

…

“Ariel Augustus. Baldwin Pennypacker. For the murder of your fellow warlock, John Henry Moore, and conspiring to commit treason against this coven, I, Cordelia Goode, on behalf of this council, sentence you to death by fire.”

The coven guards doused Ariel and Baldwin in gasoline.

“Our people have long stood by an agreement that no witch may kill a condemned warlock,” Cordelia added. “Only your brother may light the flame. I do not intend to break that tradition today.”

John Henry emerged to the surprise of Ariel and Baldwin, gracefully, striding between the stakes to join the witches at Cordelia’s side.

He scanned the area, eyes moving from stake to stake. He furrowed his brow, “Where’s his girlfriend?” He turned to Cordelia, “We need to destroy her. It’s the only way we can really hurt him.”

“We’re not burning an innocent girl on the stake,” Cordelia defended. “She wasn’t involved in your murder, Bubbles verified that already.”

John Henry shook his head, they were all blind to the facts, he didn’t want to kill her, but he could see it just like he could see what Michael truly was. “She’s his weakness…” he argued. “I’ve seen how he is with her, he’d fall apart.”

“No,” Cordelia stated firmly.

John Henry tsked, snatching one of the gasoline cans, dumping the contents all over Ms. Mead.

“Any last words?” He asked, returning to Cordelia’s side as he faced his brothers and murderer. “Ah, right,” he teased, motioning to his mouth.

“You think death is a punishment?” Ms. Mead shouted. “I do not fear the fire. It cleanses me, as it will cleanse this world. I’ve seen the end. I bear witness to the darkness.”

She looked up to the blue sky, “Father! Take me in your arms. Your kingdom is nigh.”

John Henry and Cordelia shared a look. She nodded to him signaling that it was time. With a wave of his hand, John Henry ignited the torches. The guards, then, set the lit torches at the feet of the condemned. In a matter of seconds flames engulfed Ariel, Baldwin, and Ms. Mead.

…

Michael’s hand cautiously reached out towards the last corpse, after he identified the first two as Ariel and Baldwin. He stumbled backwards, hands shaking, as he saw his Ms. Mead being burned alive.

An emotional and raw scream erupted from him, as pain and sadness filled him. With a hand over his chest, he wailed, it felt as if he couldn’t get any oxygen to his lungs and like his heart was being constricted by a snake, its tail coiling tightly around it as if it was a weak little mouse.

“It’s over,” Cordelia said, appearing behind him. “We know who you are.”

Michael turned to face her.

“Your allies are all dead,” she announced. “You failed.”

“I’ve already proven that I can defy death. I’m just gonna bring her back,” Michael retorted. “And when I do, my Ms. Mead will stand by me as we watch you die.”

“You can certainly go to Hell, but you won’t find her there,” Cordelia warned.

“What have you done?”

She explained that Ms. Mead’s soul was hidden away and that the spell was one only she could break. As Michael realized that he’d never see Ms. Mead again, he dropped to his hands and knees.

“You’re alone,” she added.

“I’m never alone. I have y/n and I have my father,” he snapped.

“That poor girl deserves better,” Cordelia said coldly. She took several steps toward Michael. “And where is your father? Why did he let this happen?”

Michael looked up at her as she knelt down.

“You don’t have to follow this path your father laid out for you. You can write your own destiny. You can still turn away. There’s humanity in you. I see it,” she stood back up and offered Michael her hand. “If you come with me, maybe we can find it. Together.”

He accepted her hand, but aggressively moved closer, his eyes burning with hatred towards the witch. “Somehow, some way, I am gonna bring her back. And then I’m gonna kill every last one of you.”

As the threat left his lips. A thought crossed Cordelia’s mind and images flashed in Michael’s head. His eyes widened, staring at Cordelia in disbelief.

The witches had revived John Henry, back from the dead, and he and Behold were returning to the school. Michael’s hands began to tremble, releasing Cordelia’s hand, as he could hear the words John Henry had spoken to her during the execution. John Henry had made threats towards you, expressed that he wanted to dispose of you to hurt Michael, to stop him.

Michael made up his mind at that moment, he wouldn’t allow John Henry to have the opportunity, he’d kill them all to protect you. He couldn’t believe they’d stoop so low, would the witches be the next to try?

Without time to waste, Michael left towards the school.

He sat there panting, the lifeless corpses of his brothers laying all around him. Michael had no one except for you, he had no Ms. Mead to guide him, he had no support with his magic anymore, no followers. And the witches were still a threat.

He felt like he was crumbling beneath the weight of it all, but he had to make sure you were safe. He may have been able to keep you safe and massacre the warlocks, but what if the witches went after you next?

Taking in a deep breath, Michael stared up at the staircase towards the direction of your room. He would do anything to keep you safe.

Rising to his feet, he slowly made his way to you.

“Michael?” You asked, sitting up on the bed as he entered the room.

He wished that he could just crawl into bed next to you. But there was so much that needed to be done. He had to kill the witches, avenge Ms. Mead, and fulfill his purpose.

He crouched down beside the bed in front of you. “The witches, they killed Ms. Mead,” he said quietly, voice hoarse from screaming.

“Oh, honey, I’m so sorry,” you whispered, leaning down to embrace him.

Michael placed his hands on your shoulders, pulling away from you a bit, he wanted to get a better look at you. He stared at your face, committing every detail to memory.

“I need to put you under a spell,” Michael started to explain. “I have to hide you from anyone who’d want to hurt you.”

You furrowed your brow as his words sunk in. He was going to leave you behind. Your lips quivered as you started to cry.

“Who’s… who's going to take care of you?” You hiccuped, cupping his face, your thumbs gently wiping the tears from the apple of his cheeks.

Picturing Michael alone, without anyone to turn to, no one to make sure he was okay, was literally breaking your heart. You couldn’t leave him, you couldn’t let him do this. You had promised to stay with him forever.

He placed his hands over yours. “I’ll be fine,” he said, trying to put on a brave face. “But I can’t lose you too, I can't… you're all that I have left.”

Your shoulders shook as you cried harder.

“I’m going to take care of you this time,” Michael promised. “I’ll figure it out and then we’ll never have to be apart. You’ll be at my side forever.”

Micheal closed the distance between you and him, his lips finding yours with ease. His first real kiss was an emotional kiss goodbye, one in which he desperately wanted to convey his devotion for you. Your eyes fluttered shut, his hands squeezed yours tighter, you pressed your lips to his tenderly, returning the kiss.

He casted his spell before pulling away, and watched as you fell into a deep sleep like a princess in a fairy tale. As an extra precaution he wiped your memories as well.

***Present***

“It’s alright,” Michael comforted, tucking your head under his chin as he wrapped his arms around you.

It was a lot to take in at once, an entire lifetime coming back to you in a matter of seconds. Michael waited patiently, hand drawing circles on back, as you composed yourself. Having you back made him feel whole again, the one constant in his life. He was never letting go of you again.

“What is it?” He asked as you sat up and cupped his cheek.

“You’ve changed,” you whispered, gazing at him. He looked older, more mature and refined, his long golden hair somehow made him even more handsome than you remembered. He now exuded confidence that almost bordered on conceitedness.

He lifted his brow, “Have I?”

You nodded, causing him to smirk, you were always so honest.

“In what ways?” He teased, titling his head, and holding your hand to his face. “Am I more attractive now?”

You shook your head, laughing lightly, “Not sure how you managed it, but yes you’re more handsome than I remember.”

“So,” he murmured lowly. “You like the new me?” Michael turned his head and kissed the palm of your hand. “Tell me,” he said against your skin.

“Didn’t we have this conversation earlier?” You questioned.

“But that was before you remembered,” he challenged, looking at you from the corner of his eye.

“My answer is still the same, everything, I like everything about you.”

“I believe you,” He closed his eyes, inhaling a deep breath, and then opening them again. He examined you for a moment, just like before it was as if he could see right through you.

“You haven’t changed,” he said thoughtfully. “It’s comforting.” His lips tickled your fingertips as he returned your hand to you.

Michael may not have the typical image of home as most, but he suspected that being reunited with you, is what it felt like to come back home.

He leaned forward, hands firmly on your thighs, as his lips lightly grazed against yours. You felt the side of his nose caress yours, your hands slowly raised up from your lap and clung to him.

Suddenly he groaned in frustration as the bedroom door opened.

“Ladies, I’m a little busy right now,” Michael muttered, breaking the kiss as he glanced at Ms. Venable and Ms. Mead who entered the room uninvited.

Ms. Venable gave you a cold look, she couldn’t say she was surprised to see you here. She long had her suspicions, this only confirmed them. “This won’t take long,” She addressed Michael, walking further into the room.

Michael sighed, exasperatedly, his touch leaving your form as he straightened up and turned his chair to give Ms. Venable his attention. “What’s this?”

“We’re making the selections now, Mr. Langdon,” Ms. Venable stated, standing tall across from Michael. “And I’m afraid that neither of you made the cut.”

Michael bursted out laughing. “I’m sorry, I wanted to let you have your moment, but I just couldn’t hold it in,” he gestured to himself.

“You think this is funny?” Ms. Venable pressed, obviously unamused.

“I think I’m impressed, Ms. Venable,” Michael

“I wasn’t sure you had it in you.”

Gracefully, Michael rose to his feet. “You passed the test. You’re perfect for The Sanctuary.”

“Mrs. Mead,” Ms. Venable ordered.

You scrambled off the bed, moving in front of Michael, the moment Ms. Mead drew the gun out from her jacket. You didn’t understand what was going on, or why Ms. Mead was following Ms. Venable’s orders.

Michael looked at you fondly, with a slightly amused expression. His sweet y/n ready to protect him, to defend him, even knowing that he could literally kill people with a snap of his fingers.

Of course, you weren’t in any real danger. He knew Ms. Mead would never hurt you, just like she was programmed to never hurt him. He placed his hands on your shoulders.

“I wouldn’t do that,” he warned Ms. Venable before glancing towards Ms. Mead and giving her a silent command.

“Ms. Mead,” Ms. Venable repeated, her tone irritated as she turned to face her co-conspirator.

Ms. Mead, with some unwillingness by the look of her face, went from pointing the gun at Michael to directing it toward Ms. Venable. Without hesitation, Ms. Mead fired.

You flinched at the sound of the gunshot, drawing back against Michael, who reassuringly squeezed your shoulders while smirking with satisfaction over what just transpired.

Ms. Venable dropped to the floor gasping as she started to bleed out from the wound in her chest.

Michael’s hands slid down your arms, walking around you towards Ms. Venable.

“I don’t know why I did that,” Ms. Mead questioned, sadness laced in her voice. “I was always loyal to her.”

“It’s all right,” Michael spoke calmly, crouching down, his arms resting on his knees as he watched Ms. Venable die. “You were obeying commands, like you’re programmed to do,” he explained. “My commands.”

You knitted your brows together finally piecing together what was going on. You had been so invested on your and Michael’s reunion, that you hadn’t ask how he was able to revive Ms. Mead.

“Did you enjoy executing the poison apples plan as much as I enjoyed coming up with it?” Michael asked Ms. Mead, standing back up.

“You wanted everyone dead?”

“I’ve never been a fan of getting my hands dirty,” he reasoned. “Learned that from my father.”

Ms. Mead’s lips trembled as she processed all the new information and her grief.

“Always more fun to entice men and women to do dirty deeds. Confirms what I’ve always believed,” Michael mused.

“What do you believe?”

“That all people, if given the right pressures or stimulus, are evil motherfuckers,” he declared. “All except for y/n, of course,” he chuckled, looking at you before returning his attention to Ms. Mead.

“I’m having trouble with this,” she shook her head. “I know I’m just a machine.”

“Never say that,” he said forcefully. “You’re not just a machine. Not to me. When I tasked The Cooperative’s R&D department to have you constructed, I gave them a prototype to model.”

“A prototype?” She asked, hanging on to each and every word Michael said.

“Someone from my childhood,” he shared, approaching her slowly. “Someone very dear to me.”

Her expression changed as realization struck her. “The beautiful boy.”

“That was me,” Michael answered, his eyes glossy as he held back tears. “But I had to keep the most important part of you hidden from your mind, just like I had to with y/n.”

“Why?”

“To protect you and the plan,” he said. “But now it’s time to remember it all.�� His eyes flickered to the ground for a brief moment, head shaking slightly as he continued to speak.

“I lost you and I couldn’t bear it. And after that, I had to hide y/n to keep her safe.” His heart ached recalling all the pain, misery, loneliness he felt after losing the only people who loved him. “I can’t imagine a new world without you both by my side.”

Her eyes darted to you, “So that’s why I felt connected to you, like I needed to watch over you.”

You smiled at her and nodded, “You’ve always been good to me.”

Michael embraced Ms. Mead tightly. He finally had the only people who mattered back. The only people who ever showed him love and kindness. The rest of the world could burn now.

Pulling back, Michael smiled at you and offered you his hand. His thumb caressed your knuckles lovingly while his other arm lingered around Ms. Mead. “You both are the only people I never stopped trusting or loving.”

His eyes narrowed as he noticed the blood splattered on your dress. “There’s a dress for you in the armoire,” he motioned towards it. “Go change, I’ll catch Ms. Mead up on things.”

In the adjoining bathroom, you stripped out of your purple dress, letting it fall to the floor. Looking at your reflection, you fixed your face, wiping away the streaks of mascara from under your eyes.

The dress was more contemporary than the purple attire you had grown accustomed to. The black fabric was smooth and luxurious. Pulling it on, it fit you like a glove, hugging the curves of your hips and thighs.

You frowned as you found that you couldn’t reach the zipper on the back. You cleared your throat as you emerged from the bathroom. “I can’t zip it up.”

Michael strode towards you and stood behind you, his fingers ghosting over the exposed skin of your back as they traveled down to the zipper. Taking his time he pulled it up.

His eyes traveled up and down your figure as he admired the dress on you, “A perfect fit.”

Michael tensed suddenly, eyes darting to the side, standing still as if waiting for something to happen.

“What is it?” Ms. Mead asked.

“I sense a powerful presence,” he responded, eyes shifting as he concentrated on whoever just arrived.

“What do you mean? Everyone’s dead,” she said, looking concerned.

“Not anymore,” Michael answered. He extended his hand out towards you, fingers curling around your palm. “Let’s greet our guests.”

Ending 1

Ending 2

#michael langdon #reader insert #female reader #ahs apocolaypse #ahs coven #ahs Michael Langdon #michael langdon fanfiction #michael langdon imagine #michael langdon x you #michael langdon x reader #american horror story #american horror story fanfic #American horror story apocalypse #ahs #canon rewrite

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starsofmilos · 3 years ago

Text

I’m Not Not Jealous.(Adrian Chase x reader

Request:pls pls pls could you write something where the 11th street kids all go out and the reader is dressed up and someone keeps flirting with them, and adrian is super jealous about the whole time then finally snaps and just drags the reader away for smutty reasons (possessive dommy adrian makes my brain mel)

I’m a sucker for jealous Adrian.

Masterlist

Warnings: p in v, fingering, oral (male and female receiving), dom Adrian, sub reader, rough, cursing, nsfw, degrading/praise, angry sex,spanking and slight choking

18+

It was supposed to be a nice night, so you weren’t quite sure how you ended up on Adrian’s couch with him balls deep inside your mouth, but when he groaned saying how you were doing such a good job for him, you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

The night started off with Chris managing to convince all of you to go drinking for the night. Everyone had agreed except for you.

You had just wanted a netflix and ice cream night, but then Adrian had asked you. Truth was you had a big thing for the sword wielding Vigilante. You didn’t think he really liked you.

Sure he joked around with you and spent time with you. In the field, he was the first to ask for you...but he other than all of that he never really showed any romantic feelings.

If anything he avoided most of your flirtations and he would change the subject when you tried to ask him out.

So you took the silent rejection deciding maybe it was time to move on.

Which led you to tonight, Adrian had convinced you to join the group. You hated to say it but moving on from him was hard. Adrian was just so..beautiful to you. You wanted nothing more than to make him happy.

So much for moving on.

Anyways, you had decided to go all out for tonight. Maybe you could meet someone who can take your mind off of the stupid, sweet, but cute Adrian. You had it bad.

It took a lot of convincing yourself, but you went dressed in a nice sundress. It was spring time why not? And it was casual enough for the bar and most people do say guys go crazy for girls in sundresses.

You sighed twirling your drink waiting for everyone else to come. You had gotten here first it seems.

“Hey Y/N!” You looked up smiling as Chris and Adrian walked in. Chris whistled sitting down. “You look sharp tonight.”

“Thanks.” You grinned. Adrian looked you up and down in slight shock.

“Y-yeah you look...so good.” You turned a bit red at his compliment.

“Thanks Adrian.”

Chris chuckled, “You trying to find a gentlemen tonight Y/N?” You shrugged.

“If it happens.” You laughed. Adrian’s trance was broken by your words.

“Wait you’re trying to find a one night stand?” You shook your head.

“I was joking.” You tilted your head he looked almost relieved.

“Oh okay.” You gave him a smile pushing his shoulder. Everyone else came in one by one. You all sat together laughing with each other. Emilia smiled a bit taking a sip as Chris began to talk.

“I’ll get the next round.” You told everyone as they all began to argue about who would go. You were the sober one tonight agreeing to drive anyone who needed a ride from your group home.

Adrian just chose not to drink, which was weird but you weren’t gonna question it.

“Hi can I get four beers and two pepsi’s. Thanks.” You gave the bartender the due amount as you leaned against the bar waiting.

“Hi there.” You looked up seeing a tall black haired man sitting in the stool next to you. “Hi?”

“Um how rude of me I’m Kurtis.” He stuck out his hand.

“Hi again. I’m Y/N.” He smiled.

“Y/N that’s a really nice name.” Kurtis wasn’t bad looking. He was tall, sorta lean, and wore a nice fitting black suit.

“Thanks.” You smiled flirtatiously at him. He would be the perfect candidate to help you forget about the idiot you were so hopelessly in loved with.

“Um ma’m.” You grabbed everyone’s drinks.

“Um I’m with some friends, but if you’d wanna wait I can take them the drinks and we can talk for a bit?” Kurtis smiled happily.

“Of course.” You sped walk handing everyone there drinks.

“I’ll be back in a bit.” You giddily skipped back to the bar not noticing everyone turn to Adrian.

“Where is she going?” Adebayo smirked.

“Didn’t you see the tall handsome man approach her at the bar?” Adrian looked towards you seeing you sit next to Kurtis with a smile.

“Why?”

Chris laughed. “Why else? Y/N’s trying to get it in.” Adrian frowned a bit at his words.

Emilia knew the truth. She knew you just wanted this one night to not think about the oblivious idiot you kept chasing after.

“Why can’t she Chase?”

“What?”

“You seem upset that she went to talk to that guy.” Emilia side smirked.

“No why would I be? She can talk to whoever she wants.” She nodded.

“I think she’s trying to do more than talking.” John joked around as he took a sip.

Adrian took a glance seeing you give Kurtis the same smile you would shoot his way. You leaned in letting your chest show a bit more.

“No she just wants to talk to him-”

“Is that why she’s handing him her phone?” Emilia wanted Adrian to finally take the step and just fucking tell you he felt the same way. Adrian clenched his fist angrily.

“I gotta go.” He threw down a couple bills for his drinks to the others before approaching you.

“There he goes.” John mumbled out as Adebayo sighed.

“Let’s hope he doesn’t fuck it up.”

Chris snorted. “I think he plans on fucking her.”

“Oh dude gross.” Emilia grimaced.

“So you could put your phone number in and I’ll call you and maybe some night when I’m not with my friends we could maybe-”

“Hey!” Adrian grabbed your waist and phone from his hand.

“Sorry buddy she’s not interested.” You glared a bit at Adrian.

Kurtis glanced between the two of you. “Are you guys a thing?”

“No.” You answered him. “He’s my friend. Who is being a bit of a cock block right now.” You grumbled out to Adrian.

Adrian grit his teeth. “Yeah I am and I have no problem being a cock block.” Your eyes widened as Adrian began to drag you out.

“Hey! Adrian!” You yelped as he dragged you outside towards his car. “Adrian-”

“Shut up Y/N.”

“No you don’t get to tell me to shut up! I was trying to-”

“I know what you were trying to do and you’re not doing shit.”

“What the actual fuck?”

“I’m not letting you go around and be a whore.”

“Adrian! How is that fucking fair!?” Adrian slammed you against his car.

“If you’re gonna whore yourself out, then the only fucking person you’ll be whoring yourself out to is me. Now stop arguing and get in the car.” You gaped a bit at his words.

“Okay.” You mumbled out clenching your thighs feeling heat fill your body.

“Good girl.” He opened the door for you helping you in.

“What about the others?”

“They’re adults they’ll get home on their own.” You nodded buckling in.

The ride was tense. You were still a bit angry, but now more turned on than angry. Adrian was still fuming taking a small glance at your thighs.

The sundress you worse slid up as you adjusted yourself trying not to shiver from the cold. Adrian sighed grabbing one of his sweaters he had in the backseat tossing it to you.

While he would love to look at your exposed skin, your comfort was more important to him.

“Put it on.”

“Oh I’m okay-”

“I can hear you shivering. Don’t make me tell you again.” You hated how much him demanding you around was making you wet. Instead of driving to your place, he took you both to his.

You walked out with him still not saying anything as he unlocked his door practically shoving you inside.

“Adrian what the fuck was all of that?” He stood silent shrugging his sweater off.

“You shouldn’t flirt with other guys.”

“Why not?” You asked him a bit agitated.

He seemed to not be interested in you, so why should it bother him? He shook his head with a smile going to his kitchen to grab a water bottle. You stood in the living room stunned and confused.

“You called me a whore essentially and said if I was gonna be a whore it was only gonna be for you? And now you’re not saying anything when I ask why you stopped me from talking to Kurtis-”

“Was that his name?”

“Yea-”

“Fuck Kurtis. You don’t want a guy with a douchey name like that touching you. He probably wouldn’t fucking know what to do.”

“And you would? Dude your honestly confusing me. If your not saying anything else then I will be taking my leave-”

Adrian grabbed your arm hauling you towards him. “Don’t go.”

“Talk to me.”

Adrian sighed. “Fuck I don’t want you talking to guys. I don’t want you having some random dude you just met fuck you. Because that’s what you wanted right? A one night stand with him.” Adrian began to back you towards the couch.

He was angry.

“Adrian I thought you didn’t like me..”

“When did I say that?”

“Well I just kinda assumed-”

“You assumed wrong. I do like you. I like you a lot and I don’t want anyone else touching you.” It finally clicked.

"So you’re jealous?"

"I'm not not jealous?" Adrian asked a bit uncertainly.

"You realize we aren't dating right? So there is no reason for you to be jealous." His eyes grew a bit dark as he pushed you down on the couch.

"We may not be dating, but that does not mean you aren't mine Y/N. You are mine. I just haven't established that yet."

“Then establish it.” Adrian grinned kissing you roughly. You moaned a bit as he pushed your knees apart sliding between them.

“Fuck.” Adrian groaned as you grabbed his hair. “I’m gonna make you fucking forget that douchebag and you’re gonna fucking realize you’re mine.” You nodded.

“Make me yours.” Adrian sat up grabbing the strap of your sundress yanking it down. He growled seeing your bare chest.

“No bra? You are a fucking whore.” You whimpered as he groped your chest.

“But you’re my whore. Aren’t you?” You nodded. Adrian smirked a bit leaning down sucking your nipple.

“Fuck!” You cried out as Adrian alternated between your two nipples. Adrian pulled the rest of your dress down making you sit up on his lap.

“You want me to fuck you right?” You nodded. “I need words my pretty slut.”

“Yes I want you to fuck me Adrian.” He nodded moving his hand down groping your ass. You moaned as he slapped it.

“You’ve been a fucking slut all night. Did you want this? Did you wanna make me mad?” You shook your head as he spanked you again.

“No I didn’t wanna make you mad Adrian.”

“You didn’t? Then prove it.” You looked at him in confusion as he slid his hands into your underwear running his hand through your folds.

“You’re so fucking wet. I haven’t even touched you yet. Did you like me yelling at you?” You stood quiet as he moved a finger inside of you.

“Did you?” He asked again speeding up. “Come on slut answer me.” You nodded.

“I did. I did like when you yelled at me.”

“Why?” You whined as he added another finger. You knew what he wanted to hear.

“Because I’m a slut..”

“Who’s slut are you?”

“Your’s Adrian.” You moaned as he smiled.

“Good girl..You’re gonna be a good girl for me huh?” You nodded.

“I promise I’ll be good.” He slowed down removing his fingers from you.

“On your knees.” You nodded moving off his lap to the floor. “Take me out.” Adrian ordered you while he moved the two fingers he had inside of you into his mouth.

Eagerly, you unbuckled his belt pulling down his pants and boxers to his knees. You gasped a bit as his cock slapped his stomach.

“Adrian..can you take your shirt off please?..” He nodded shooting you a smile.

“Because you asked nicely.”

You grasped his cock with your hand slowly moving it up and down.

“Fuck.” Adrian threw his head back groaning as you flicked your hand.

“Put your mouth to good work pretty whore.” You nodded taking his tip in.

“Fuck me! Your mouth is so good. Tap my leg twice if it becomes too much okay?” You nodded before making a small noise as he grabbed your head pushing you down.

“There we go. Oh fuck..so good. Being such a good girl Y/N.”

You moaned a bit bobbing your head. “Oh fuck you’re taking me so fucking well. My pretty slut. My slut! Mine! Mine!” You gagged as Adrian shoved you down having you fully take him in.

Spit spilled from the corner of your mouth as you choked a bit on him. Adrian thrusted up beginning to fuck your throat.

“Yeah..Yeah just like that..You know what I like my pretty whore..” Adrian looked down before helping move your hair out of your face gently tracing your jawline.

You moaned a bit around him feeling butterflies in your stomach at his praise. “Fuck I fucking love you.” Adrian moaned out as you gurgled around him whining a bit. He pulled out letting you catch your breath.

He pulled you up before standing up himself. Adrian bent down removing his pants fully. He dragged you to the kitchen bending you over the counter.

You moaned as the cold tile hardened your nipples as he began kissing your back. “Do you want me to fuck you?” Adrian slapped your ass. You nodded.

“Please. Please fuck me.” Adrian smiled hearing you.

“Do I need a condom?” You shook your head. Adrian pulled your underwear down leaving them on the kitchen floor.

“No I’m on pill. Fuck!!” Adrian began to rub your clit trying to decide if he wanted his fingers, tongue, or cock in you.

“Such a pretty pussy..This is my pretty pussy now..Oh I’m so fucking lucky to have this pretty pussy as mine.”

“Adrian please..I’ll do anything.”

“You did enough slut. Now shut up. I’ll fuck you when I want got it?” You nodded.

“Behave. I don’t wanna have to fuck you until you’re crying.” You whimpered at his words pushing back against him.

“Maybe I want that.” You cried out as he shoved his fingers inside of you.

You slapped the counter as he fingered you. “Do you? Y/N have you really ever been overstimulated?” You gasped out as he leaned down to whisper in your ear.

“Have you?” You shook your head.

“If you really want me to fuck you till the point of you crying. Misbehave again. I fucking dare you. I can see your so fucking sensitive Y/N I barely touched you and you’re soaking wet. You wanna cum till you can’t take it? I don’t think you’d be able to handle it.”

“Adrian!” You tightened around his fingers feeling your orgasm approaching.

“I want you to fuck me till I cry..Please. I can take it. Please.” Adrian smiled a bit before nodding.

“Okay just know you asked for it. If it’s too much tell me to stop okay?” He pulled his fingers out leaving you on the edge.

“Okay..”

Adrian rubbed his tip on your folds before pushing his tip in. “Fuck..Adrian..Please..” Adrian grunted as he rubbed your back.

“I know baby. I know..” He grabbed your hips beginning a leisurely pace.

“Adrian!” You began to pant as he fucked into you deeply.

“You’re so fucking tight! Oh my perfect little slut. You’re my new little fuck toy got it?” You nodded.

“I’ll do anything for you please make me fucking cum!!” Adrian nodded.

“Oh you’re gonna cum. I’m gonna make you cum till you can’t take it.” You moaned out as Adrian kept one hand on your hip the other pulling your head up. Drool leaked from the corner of your mouth as your mascara ran down your face.

“You look so fucking beautiful my fucking pretty whore. Look at you all sloppy for me.” You cried out as Adrian sped up.

“Oh god!! I’m close..”

“Good girl..does my good girl wanna cum?”

“Please please please let me cum! Adrian please!!” He groaned hearing you.

“Cum for me princess.” You yelled out cumming on his dick.

“There we go..” You panted out as Adrian kept up his pace.

“Adrian..”

Adrian grunted pulling out moving on his knees. “I just have to fucking taste you.” You screeched out as he pushed his face onto you letting his tongue run over you.

You laid still bent over the counter as he used his tongue to fuck you. Tears fell a bit from your eyes as he sucked your clit in his mouth. You screamed as you came on his tongue.

“Such a good whore for me.” Adrian slapped your red ass cheeks. “You want my dick again huh? Wanna feel me cum inside this tight pretty cunt of yours little whore?”

You nodded. “It’s cause your a cum slut huh? Say it. You’re my cum slut.”

“I’m y-you’re cum slut!” Adrian flipped you over standing up.

“I’m gonna fuck you till you can’t think straight.” You were starting to regret begging for him to overstimulate you, but as he grabbed you dragging you to his bedroom you realized by this point you would do anything Adrian asked of you.

He pushed you gently on the bed kissing you. You spread your legs letting him slot in between them. Adrian moaned against your mouth as you began to grind on his dick.

“Fuck me Adrian..I’m sorry I ever thought I wasn’t yours.” Adrian grinned.

“You really mean that?” You nodded.

“I do..I’ve loved you for a long time. It was stupid of me to think Kurtis could ever distract me from you.” Adrian pushed himself back in at your words.

“Don’t say that douche bags name.” You threw your head back as he began to bite and suck your neck.

“You are mine.” Adrian began to thrust into you. He sat up pulling you close to him. You grasped the bedsheets moaning as Adrian fucked you hard.

“Adrian! Wait slow down!” You pushed his stomach before keening. Adrian laughed seeing you struggle to take it.

“Oh come on you can take it can’t you? Isn’t that what you promised earlier?” He grunted feeling sweat fall from his brow line. You had a layer of sweat on you.

Adrian moved his thumb on your clit as he started going harder. “Fuck fuck fuck!!” He yelled out as you laid down trying to take his harsh, but so good thrusts.

“You fuck me so good!!” You groaned out reaching out for him.

Adrian shut his eyes whining as he let himself flop forward still fucking you. “Adrian..please cum inside me..I can’t cum again..”

Adrian wrapped his hand around your neck shaking his head. “No. You’re gonna cum two more times. Got it?” You whined reaching up to grasp his hair.

“Be a good girl and tell me when your close.” You nodded.

Adrian tilted a bit smiling as you screamed. “Right there!! Please Adrian right fucking there!!”

“That’s it baby..Cum on me.” He roughly moved abusing that spot. He leaned down licking your tear away groaning out feeling you cum around him.

Adrian began to lose his pace feeling his high approaching you. “Where do you want my cum? My pretty whore where do you want it..”

“Inside me..” You panted out. Adrian moaned as you once again tightened around him. He was fucking you so good. His hips began to stutter a bit as you reached up kissing his neck.

“Cum inside me please..I’m your filthy cum slut and I wanna feel your cum inside me..” Adrian screamed into your shoulder cumming inside of you.

He kept going riding out his high. You both laid there panting for a small moment. You smiled thinking it was over only to feel Adrian grow hard again. “Adrian?..”

“I said I’d fuck you till you couldn’t think straight. I wanna make sure you don’t know that douche bags name.”

“AHH!” He began to thrust again moving one of your legs over his shoulder as he sat up continuing his brutal thrust.

“Wait! Wait! Adrian!!” His cum leaked around him as he fucked into you.

“Come on you should’ve known this was gonna happen! I finally got you!! I’m not letting you out of this bed till the only name you can say is mine.”

It was two hours later when Adrian finally relented. He ran his tongue on your thighs before moving your abused sore clit in his mouth. “Adrian..please..” You weakly begged him.

You had his cum practically painted all over you. He came on your chest and inside of you two more times in those two hours.

He finally was satisfied but wanted at least one more from you. You lost count of how many times you came on his cock and tongue.

“You’re such a good slut for me Y/N. Come on just one more and I’ll stop.” You whined a bit trying to move away. He pulled you back.

“Don’t make me fuck you again.” You cried out as he moved his fingers inside of you.

“Is that what you want? Me to fuck you again?” You sobbed nodding your head before feeling another orgasm approaching.

“Adrian I’m close again.” He smiled standing up.

“Okay can you handle me fucking you one more time?” You nodded.

“Fuck I can slide inside of you so easily now. Your pussy can only take my cock now.” You nodded as he began to thrust. Not as fast as before, but it was still a good pace.

You knew this next orgasm approaching wasn’t like the rest. “Adrian I don’t think I can do another one anymore?” Adrian tilted his head slowing down a bit.

“Why? Do you want me to stop does it hurt?” You shook your head.

“No it feels good, but this feels different more intense..”

Adrian gasped excitedly fucking into you with more rigor. “I know what it is..Trust me you can take it..” You moaned out feeling him kiss your neck and face all over.

“Let go for me Y/N..my perfect pretty girl..You did such a good job letting me fuck you so cum for me now..” You smiled a bit before yelling out feeling this orgasm come out of nowhere.

Adrian smirked as you squirted on him. He looked down seeing your juices on his abdomen hearing the sloppy noises your cunt made.

“Fuck! Mine! Mine!..” He growled out cumming inside you once more.

“Oh fuck me..” He whimpered a bit pulling out. You laid there exhausted, but fully satisfied and sore.

Adrian flopped next to you pulling you into his chest. “Are you okay?” He whispered out kissing the side of your head. You nodded sleepily.

“Yes. I’m okay..”

“I didn’t go to far?” You shook your head smiling at how cute he sounded all worried.

“No you didn’t..It felt good..Adrian did I do a good job?..” Adrian snorted.

“Are you kidding me? I’m gonna be honest this was the best sex I’ve ever had.”

“I need to make you jealous more often.”

“Please don’t.”

You smiled a bit at his words. “I meant it by the way I do like and love you.” Adrian snickered a bit.

“Ditto.” His eyes were filled with adoration as you fell asleep on his chest.

#fanfiction #adrian chase #adrian chase x reader #adrian chase x you #vigilante fanfiction #vigilante peacemaker #vigilante x reader #fanfic #peacemaker #adrian chase peacemaker #request

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tomhardyspinkyfinger · 3 years ago

Text

A Simple Life

Masterlist

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Summary: Alfie takes on domestic life and makes it look good.

A/N: Part four! I have done so. much. writing. in the past two days. I was going to take a break after my last request but it's been too long since I've updated my OG story. I took some smutty inspiration from @hecatemoon87 's incredible Leo Demidov fic. Check it out!! I love the idea of using a mirror 🤤 enjoy y'all!

Warnings: language, smut (finally), body imagery issues, body insecurities

Alfie told me to dress comfortable and wait in my room before he and Mauve told me I could come to the dining room. I had no idea what they were planning, but I was told it was an important event. I laid around reading for about an hour before I got bored and snuck to the kitchen where my heart was officially melted.

There stood Mauve on a dining room chair leaning over a steaming pot while Alfie held her from behind, helping her stir the soup.

"Why are we making this again?" Mauve questioned. I watched with a smile out of my face while hidden from their eye line.

"Well your mother, right, deserves a meal fit for a queen. I ain't no chef but my Bubbe taught me the right and proper way to make matzo ball soup, a Jewish delicacy. We're cooking for 'er so she can be treated like the queen she is." Mauve nodded at Alfie's response and kept stirring.

"... But why? Matzo is a lot of work." Mauve complained.

"Who makes us dinner every night? And breakfast every day? Who gives you your baths and does your hair before school? Eh?" Alfie questioned.

"...Mummy." Mauve responded.

"Right, and she's a fuckin' queen for it." Alfie responded, placing his arm on hers and speeding up the stirring.

"Swear jaw Alfie!" Mauve exclaimed. Mauve implemented the swear jar after hearing Alfie on a business call in his office. Needless to say she was becoming the richest six year old in Camden Town. He laughed and lifted her from the chair, placing her back on the ground.

"Thank you for your help, Princess Mauve, go on and get your mother for dinner." Alfie instructed. I walked in with a smile.

"No need, I'm here." I said. Mauve pouted and crossed her arms.

"You were supposed to wait in your room!" She exclaimed, huffing. Her new tiara Alfie got her gave her a new royal personality. It happened to also occasionally be a royal pain in my ass. She insisted everyone refer to her as a princess. Although it was tiring, Alfie never let it show, even going as far as referring to me as his queen. He walked up to me and pressed his lips to mine. I grabbed his face and kissed back with a never ending sense of joy. Mauve groaned and entered the dining room. Alfie slapped my ass and sent me in after her as I squealed.

He followed soon after and placed the large pot on the middle of the table, put a serving of matzo ball soup in each bowl. We began eating and talking about Mauve's very eventful day at school. Alfie kept his hand on Y/N's during dinner, stroking it with his thumb. Ever since my drunken confession a few days ago, Alfie and I have been inseparable. We spent all our time together at home and at work, basking in the honeymoon phase. We have yet to sleep together and honestly I've been terrified.

The first time we tried I was tipsy, so my insecurities didn't waver me as much as they usually would. My body changed drastically after Mauve. I was grateful for it, my body housed and produced an entire human so change was inevitable. I just didn't love the change. My body was bigger, my hips wider, breasts bigger, thighs and tummy littered with stretch marks. I hoped it wouldn't bother Alfie.

"And then Anna took my crayon! But I told her my dad is the Alfie Solomons and no one messes with him!" Mauve exclaimed with a prideful smile. I dropped my spoon and it clanked against the bow before dropping to the floor, where Cyril happily licked up the mess. Alfie also froze in shock but Mauve just kept on talking about anything that came to mind. I squeezed Alfie's hand and he looked at me.

"I'm sorry, we haven't had that conversation yet." I muttered quietly as not to disturb Mauve's story telling. He nodded and we went back to eating (after cleaning my spoon) and listening to Mauve. After a while Alfie spoke.

"Mauve, can I ask you somethin'?" Alfie questioned. Mauve halted her story and nodded eagerly.

"You said I was your dad earlier, what made you say that?" He questioned softly as to not upset the young girl. She shrugged before responding.

"My teacher said a mummy and daddy are two people you love and who love you and take care of you. I love mummy and she loves me and takes very good care of me. And I love you the same way I love mummy, and you take care of me too.” She explained simply. I pushed back tears and looked away.

"I love you too, Mauve." Alfie responded. She smiled and hopped right back into her next topic of conversation. Alfie squeezed my hand this time and I looked at him.

"You alright with all 'is?" He questioned quietly. I thought about it for a moment before nodding. Alfie had been filling in as her father and then some for the past few weeks. He really went all out, reading to her every night before bed, helping her with homework, taking her to and from school. He really cared for her and I trusted him to be such a big part of her life. After dinner was finished and cleaned up we all moved to the den where Alfie put on a classical record for Mauve to dance around to. She was practicing her ballroom dancing for when a prince comes and sweeps her off her feet, something Alfie said she was much too young for.

Alfie and Y/N sat on the couch, his arm around her shoulders and her hand on his chest as the watched Mauve dance around. Eventually she wrapped both of her small hands around Alfie's big one.

"Come dance!" She demanded. Alfie chuckled.

"I ain't much of a dancer, treacle.” He responded. She rolled her eyes and kept pulling. She gave up and pouted, her eyes going wide and her bottom lip twitching. Before I could scold her for manipulating Alfie he gave in.

"Fine, you conniving child I will dance with you but it will never leave this room." Alfie tried to command with a stern voice as he stood. Mauve cracked a big grin.

"Sure!" She exclaimed, back to the happy go lucky kid she is. Alfie chuckled at her ability to play him and held his hands out.

"May I have this dance princess?" He questioned. Mauve did a curtsey and grabbed his hands, standing on his toes to try and reach his towering height. The spun around the room as I watched. As endearing as the view was, I was undeniably horny.

Seeing the way Alfie interacted with Mauve was just, well it was arousing every now and then. Seeing him sensitive and sweet with her just got me going, and it filled me with the desire to bear his children. I bit my lip and watched his muscular back move. He spun around and caught my eyes, giving a knowing smirk. After a few rounds of dancing Mauve decided to take a break, laying on the couch in front of the fireplace.

After all of ten minutes, she was knocked out. On Friday's, like today, Mauve would come home exhausted from the week but excited for the weekend. This range of energy also ensured she would be dead asleep the second her head hit any soft surface. Alfie stood in front of my sitting form and held a hand out.

"May I have this dance my queen?" He asked. I smiled and took his hand, standing into his embrace. We slowly moved across the room, the soft classical music swaying us.

"Was 'at lust I saw in your eyes just then?" Alfie teased. My face flushed and I rolled my eyes.

"No, I was just admiring your dancing skills, that's all." I lied, smiling nonetheless.

"Well I dance like a baby giraffe walks, so that's a right fuckin' lie." Alfie spoke. I chuckled quietly.

"It's the truth." I lied again. He smirked.

"Ah, so if I offered to take you upstairs and put my face between those beautiful legs you'd decline?" Alfie whispered in my ear, biting the lobe gently. I let in a sharp intake of breath and felt wetness pool in my panties.

"Well, I couldn't deny such a generous offer." I responded. He chuckled and we swayed for a while longer before Alfie pulled away.

"Let's get the babe tucked up in bed and then I will take you to our bed and destroy your heavenly cunt, 'ow does that sound?" Alfie questioned. My legs clenched. He smirked and moved his way to where Mauve was sleeping, gently reaching under her and scooping her up, holding her like a baby. We walked upstairs quietly, Cyril following suit. Alfie tucked Mauve into her bed, kissing her forehead gently. Cyril hopped up next to her and curled up in his usual spot. Alfie turned and scooped me up with one arm, my legs going around his waist.

He carried me to our shared room and laid me down on the bed, kissing me and beginning to unzip the back of my dress. I shimmied out of the dress as Alfie pulled it off. I halted for a moment.

"Can we turn the lights off?" I questioned, trying to discretely place my hands over my stretch marks. He glanced at my hands and back at my eyes.

"What're you hiding for?" He asked. I sighed.

"I'm covering the things I don't like looking at. I figure if I have trouble looking at my marks and bigger spots, no man would want to see them." I explained. Alfie pondered for a moment before standing up and going to the other side of the room. I laid confused, covering myself still. After rummaging the furniture around he came back and lifted me off the bed leading me to his armchair.

He sat in the chair and pulled me in front of him. I watched silently as he unhooked my bra and pulled it off, my breasts sagging a bit from the size and weight. I closed my eyes as he pushed my panties down to my ankles. He turned me around and placed me on his lap. I felt his member pressing into me and I grinded on instinct. He groaned under his breath and moved his hands up my torso to my breasts, cupping them and rolling my nipples between his fingers, the cold of his rings making me shiver.

I opened my eyes and finally understood what he was doing. In front of the armchair we sat on the floor length mirror faced us.

"Alf-" I began to protest.

"No, hush. We're going to watch how beautiful you look when you come undone." Alfie explained squeezing my breasts.

"These are fuckin' flawless. These beautiful things fed our child, absolutely incredible, that is." Our child. My heart fluttered.

His hands continued moving down, gently tracing my stretch marks.

"These marks are fuckin' paint strokes from the gods." He whispered in my ear, kissing the back of my neck gently, his beard tickling my skin. His hands continued their path, meeting my wet clit.

"This cunt is mouthwatering, yeah? Could spend my days drownin' in it an' die a happy man." Alfie muttered. I moaned as he circled my clit. He inserted one finger and began pumping. I moaned a bit louder.

"That's right, moan for me and look at that pretty cunt in the mirror." Alfie instructed, adding a second finger and moving faster. He reached deep inside of me and touched my walls in the exact right spot. I moaned out and threw my head back on his shoulder. He used his other hand to raise my head back to its original position, facing the mirror.

"I'm close Alf." I moaned out as he thrusted his fingers faster and faster.

"Let me see you come in the mirror, we'll both watch how fuckin' beautiful it is. Come on then, let go." Alfie spoke, sending me over the edge. We watched in the mirror as my mouth dropped and my walls tightened. I moaned out through my climax and laid back on Alfie's chest with my eyes closed afterwards. He slipped his fingers out and put them in his mouth, sucking me off of him.

"Fuckin' delicious that is." He picked me up and brought me back to the bed before stripping off all of his clothes. I moved to the edge of the bed on my knees and grabbed him in my palm, moving it back and forth. He moaned and placed his lips against mine as I worked him to become fully erect. He laid me back down and spread my legs, entering himself slowly. We both moaned out together as he slipped in.

"Such a tight cunt, squeezin' me like a fuckin vice." Alfie groaned, beginning to move his hips against mine after I adjusted to the feeling. He moved in and out, drawing loud moans from me with each thrust. He leaned in and silenced my volume with his lips. I kissed back, slipping my tongue into his mouth.

We moved in sync with each other, our moans and kisses in perfect harmony. Alfie moved his hand between us, circling my clit with the perfect amount of pressure. I broke the kiss and threw my head back with an open mouth moan, my eyes wrenched shut.

"I can feel you, love. I know you're close. M' almost there too just a bit longer." Alfie breathed out, quickening his thrusts. He got sloppy the closer we both got and with one final thrust hitting my g-spot, we both erupted. He captured my lips with his, knowing my moans would be too loud as I came. His thrusts became slow as we both finished. He pulled out gently and got out of bed, entering the bathroom and coming back out with a wet rag.

Alfie cleaned my body gently, kissing as he went. I laid in complete content, fully satiated. He placed the rag on the nightstand and crawled into bed, holding me close. We laid quietly until I broke the silence.

"You never did put your head between my legs." I pointed out coyly. Alfie let out a deep chuckle.

"Add 'at to the list of things I'm going to do to you." He responded.

"Noted."

#alfie solomons #tom hardy x reader #alfie solomons x reader #peaky blinders alfie #peaky blinders #tom hardy #fluff #so fluffy #smut #smutttttyyy

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theweasleysredhair · 4 years ago

Text

Breathless [F.W.]

Character: Fred Weasley

Word Count: 2783

Requested?: Yes/No

Summary: “Stop biting that fucking lip!” In which Y/n is a sales assistant working in the Weasley’s store; Fred likes her but finds it difficult to show this, especially since all he wants to do is to throw her against a wall and shag her.

WARNING: this is NSFW, 18+, smutty, sexy times, idk how else to say it. read with caution. or delight. idk anymore.

Tags: @gracemayhateyou @wand3ringr0s3 @theweirdsideofstuff @harrysweasleys @thoseofgreatambition

Disclaimer: Gif isn't mine, credit to whoever made it

A/n: I DID A THING (Fred Weasley is one hot motherfucker just saying)

also this was supposed to be a drabble... oops?

~*~

PLEASE DO NOT REPOST MY WORK! REBLOGS ARE ABSOLUTELY FINE! <3

+ + + + +

Fred wondered why he had hired you.

Well he knew why he had - because you were amazing at your job - but right now, as he watched you, bent slightly at the waist, interacting with some young children who had entered the shop, he severely regretted his decision. The only reason for this was that, due to the nice summer weather, you had decided to wear a skirt. A form-fitting skirt. A skirt that made Fred’s pants a tad too form-fitting themselves.

It wasn’t your fault - the sun had come as a welcome change, prompting the majority of people to be wearing lighter clothes as they hurried through Diagon Alley, so as to beat the heat. You’d just happened to have chosen a skirt that made Fred wish he could bend you over the till counter and pull said skirt up to your waist.

He couldn’t help the way his eyes wandered down your form to the curve of your bum as you reached up to grab products for the customers you were with, or - even better - this morning when you had bent down to pick up something someone (Fred) had dropped. His heart was pounding from the thought, and he was still trying to live down the fact he’d had to ask to swap with George, who was behind the till, in order to hide a certain problem of his from customers and from you - something George had found hilarious, joking about it every time he passed his twin throughout the rest of the day - “Alright there, Freddie? Working hard are we?” - earning more than a few glares.

Merlin though, Fred wanted you. He wanted to be able to kiss you, hold you, love you openly. He wanted to ask you for your input on new inventions, to ask you for your opinion on anything - everything. To be the last one to kiss you at night and the first thing you saw in the morning. And he definitely wanted you in his bed. Or in the shower. Or against the wall.

Preferably all of the above.

He couldn’t remember when he first caught feelings - sometime during your years at Hogwarts, but Fred couldn’t pinpoint exactly when he realised he was in love with you as opposed to just loving you. Perhaps it was that one game of truth or dare that lead to you kissing him - a thought he savoured and thought back to a lot. The way your lips felt against his and how he was able to hold you close in that moment.

All he knew was that he was left breathless in your presence.

He spent the rest of the day with thoughts of you in his head, swirling around as he tried to focus on serving customers. This proved a difficult feat considering you were right by him on the shop floor - talking, laughing, smiling. Fred cursed himself for being so caught up on you, but he couldn’t help himself.

He was so wrapped up in watching the way your lips turned up into a smile, the way your hips swayed as you walked, imagining how they’d feel against his own that he nearly missed George bidding his goodbyes after the store had closed for the day - something about meeting Angelina - as he made himself busy tidying one of the stands near the entrance.

“Hey Fred?” You called from the storage room. Fred blinked, pulling his thoughts away from his fantasies and back into reality, “Yeah?”

There was silence for a moment, and Fred placed the vial he was holding back into its place before wandering over to the storage room just as you entered back onto the shop floor.

“George asked if we could find a place to put these new products,” you said, bringing out a couple of trays of a new product designed to give the taker the temporary ability to read minds.

Fred frowned slightly. He knew for a fact that this product was supposed to be set up at the weekend, not today, before he both cursed and thanked George mentally as he realised his twin had given him some time alone with you - and an excuse as to why.

You’d placed the trays down and began looking around the shop, trying to work out the best place to display them, absent-mindedly pulling your bottom lip between your teeth as you did.

Fred’s gaze was directed at where your teeth met your lip and he swallowed, his jaw clenching as he imagined himself being the one biting your lip, and what sounds you’d make whilst he was doing so.

In his haze, he hadn’t realised you’d moved to the opposite side of the till counter, placing some other products you’d taken from another display down as you leant on the counter yourself. The movement caused Fred to glance over at you and his breath immediately hitched in his throat.

He could’ve sworn your top was buttoned all the way to your collar just moments ago and yet now, as you were leaning on your elbows on the counter as you spoke about the idea for the display you had, all he could focus on was the sight of the top of your breasts, in perfect view from the way your top had fallen as you’d leant.

“I suppose we could always move the love potions stand to the other side of the shop,” you looked up at Fred to see his response and instead were met with a soft gaze and no hint that he’d heard what you’d said. You raised your hand up in front of his face, an amused smile now playing on your lips as you watched him jump slightly, pulling him from whatever daydream he’d concocted in his head.

“I’m sorry, love, what we’re you saying?” He reaches up to stroke the back of his neck sheepishly.

“Were you not listening again?” You teased, giving him a playful eye roll. “I’m sorry, I was just distracted,” he replied.

“By what?”

Fred cleared his throat, not wanting to admit that he was very much imagining throwing you against the nearest wall and snogging the hell out of you. He instead changed the subject, he hoped subtly, as he returned his focus to the tray of products on the counter, “We could move the Pygmy puffs over and put the new stand nearer the front.”

“That could work,” you looked around and bit your lip in thought again, “Yeah and then we could move...”

But Fred’s focus was lost again. He knew he should be paying attention, that you’d beg him to know what had him so distracted but he couldn’t help it. Not when you were stood barely five feet in front of him, with your top practically unbuttoned and your skirt hugging your curves the way it was.

“What do you think?” You turned back to him happily, before seeing him in a trance again, “Um... Fred?”

Fred blinked, “Oh um yeah, yeah sure, sounds good!”

“Okay good! And then where should we move the snack boxes to...” And there you went again with the lip biting. Merlin, were you doing it on purpose? Could you tell how badly it was affecting him?

And suddenly Fred was only vaguely aware of you being mid sentence as he interrupted your planning with a growl, “Will you stop biting that fucking lip?!”

You jumped, a bewildered look dancing across your features, “What?”

“Stop. Biting. That. Fucking. Lip.” He spoke in a low tone that hit you between your legs and your mouth dropped slightly.

That’s when you saw it. His skin flushed, jaw clenched. His darkening eyes. Your own eyes wandered down his suit-clad arms, sleeves rolled to his elbows and displaying his toned forearms, knuckles white from gripping onto the counter.

You watched his tongue dart out to swipe across his bottom lip and nearly whimpered.

“Oh yeah? Or what?” You challenged him, purposely pulling your bottom lip between your teeth again.

“Or this!”

And suddenly Fred had slammed you against the nearest flat wall, his hands around your wrists as he easily pushed your arms up above your head. Your chests were pressed together, heaving from the deep breaths you were taking, his forehead resting on yours before he crashed his lips against your own.

He held onto your wrists with one hand, using the other to pull you closer to him by your hip, his tongue licking into your mouth as you moaned, completely taken by the man pressed against you. He ran his tongue across your bottom lip and gently nibbled, finally finding out what it felt like to bite your fucking lip.

You felt him through his pants, hard against your thigh as you sighed into his mouth, your hips rolling against his and making him let out a guttural moan.

He dropped his grip from your wrists just long enough to shake off his suit jacket, leaving him in his shirt as you ran your hands down his chest, revelling in the feel of his abs through the material.

His lips were still on yours, as if he was trying to imprint the feel of kissing you into his brain forever. In case this was a one time thing. In case it never happened again.

And then suddenly his mind was taken over by the feeling of your hands on his chest, unbuttoning his shirt as his own hands ran along the skin underneath your own shirt, fingertips reaching up to dance along the base of your bra, his hands gripping your back as you worked to take each others’ clothing off.

You pulled away for just a moment, pulling your shirt over your head as Fred did the same, throwing your bra somewhere in the middle of the floor, instantly forgotten as Fred put his hands back on you.

You shimmied your skirt down before making quick work of getting Fred out of his pants, mouth almost watering when you saw his hard cock pressing against the material of his boxers.

He pushed his lips back on yours, holding your bum as your hands reached around his neck to pull at the tufts of hair there, earning what you could only describe as a growl from him.

“Tell me to stop,” he groaned, taking in the sight of you, breathless and writhing under him.

“What if... I don’t want... you to stop,” you gasped as his mouth ghosted down your jaw, pressing the occasional open mouthed kiss to your skin.

“You want me to keep going?” He asked, sucking at the skin just below your jawline. “I want you to make me feel good,” you said as you stared up into his dark eyes.

“Darling, I can make you feel better than good,” Fred promised with a smirk.

His lips were then busy licking down your neck, towards your chest and he gently teased a nipple into his mouth, nibbling and earning breathy moans from you. One hand gripped your bum as the other held the back of your thigh, slowly moving round and under your skirt as he lightly ran a finger along the lace of your underwear. “This wet just for me?” He grinned, pulling away from your breast to meet your gaze as you nodded breathlessly, “All for you, Freddie.”

“I like the sound of that,” he replied as he moved to your other breast, giving it the same attention as he hooked a finger under the band of your underwear.

He began trailing kisses down your stomach and then kneeled before you, slowly pulling your underwear down your legs before pausing, looking up at you, “These expensive?”

“I can buy more.”

And with that, he ripped them from your legs, throwing them off to the side, falling somewhere with your discarded shirts.

His warm breath hit between your legs and he gripped your thighs before plunging his tongue inside of you, licking into you and making you gasp. The sound you made when he gently bit your clit was downright filthy, and you swore you could feel Fred smirking against you. He pushed his fingers into you, lazily thrusting them in and out as you leant against the wall, eyes closing in pleasure.

Just as you felt yourself getting close, your breathing staggered as you edged towards your climax, Fred decided to pull away from you, the cold air hitting you suddenly, making you open your eyes and you whimpered at the loss of contact.

“Look at you, being so needy. My needy girl, huh? I’ll make you cum, don’t worry, I’m just... dragging it out a little,” Fred smirked as he stood up, his fingers suddenly entering you again but this time only moving slowly.

You desperately thrust your hips into his hand, hoping for more friction, sighing frustratedly as he tutted and removed his hand completely.

He stepped away from you, pulling his underwear off and you finally caught the sight of his cock, long and thick, precum covering the tip. He grabbed himself, slowly stroking himself as he stepped back towards you.

“Can I..?” You spoke, your eyes following his hands. “Be my guest, princess.”

Fred could’ve died happy, he thought, with your pretty lips around his cock, your hands pumping what wouldn’t fit into your mouth, letting out groans as your tongue swirled around the tip.

He felt himself twitch, when suddenly you’d pulled away and he knew as he watched you stand up with your swollen lips curling into a smile that it was your way of paying him back for denying you yours before.

“Dangerous game you’re playing here, love,” He warned, stepping towards you.

“I’m playing to win,” you replied, crossing your arms over your chest and absent-mindedly pushing your breasts up with the action.

Fred groaned, “I need to be inside of you.”

His hands were back on you, kissing you again before he guided himself to push inside of you. You both groaned together, breaths hitting the other as he thrusted up into you, pinning you against the wall. He grabbed your waist, his muscles flexing, sweat beading along his collarbone as you leant forward to kiss his neck, biting the spot under his ear that made him suddenly moan and his hips stutter.

“Look at you, taking my cock so well,” he breathed out, his abs tightening with every push into you.

He then nodded over to the till counter just behind you, “See that counter? I’ve been thinking about bending you over it all day.”

“Then why don’t you?” You gasped out your breath hitching in your throat as he gave a particularly deep thrust.

Without a reply, he pulled out of you, making you whimper at the empty feeling, before pulling you over to the counter quickly. He shoved the product trays onto the floor, unbothered by them crashing to the floor as he pressed a rough, dirty kiss to your lips before turning you around and bending you over like he’d imagined so many times before. His hands roamed across your bum, squeezing before pushing back into you and making you cry out.

His hands were on your waist as he pounded into you, before he reached around to pull you up so your back hit his chest, both of you glancing towards the large front window of the shop.

“Anyone could come by and see us, but you don’t care about that do you? Just as long as I keep making you feel good,” he growled in your ear, and you felt yourself clench around his cock, earning a groan from him.

“Freddie,” you whispered, your head falling back against his shoulder as you felt your stomach tightening, building up to your release, “I’m gonna- I’m gonna-“

“There’s a good girl,” Fred praised, a hand running up your stomach to hold one of your breasts, “You’re so good to me. Come for me, princess.”

You let out a moan as your climax washed over you, collapsing forward onto the counter as Fred thrusted into you a couple more times before releasing inside of you, gripping your hips as he groaned, his head falling against the back of your neck as you both tried to catch your breath.

“I love you,” he mumbled, his lips tracing across your back and down your shoulder. And in that moment, as you were coming down from your high, whispering the words back to him, you knew this was the start of something that neither of you were prepared for.

After all, you left each other breathless.

#fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley smut #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley imagines #weasley twins #weasley twins imagine #weasley twins imagines #harry potter

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fangurk · 4 years ago

Text

She’s Always There (Paul Lahote x Reader)

Key:

Y/n: Your Name

Y/l/n: Your Last Name

Y/n/n: Your Nickname

Y/e/c: Your Eye Color

Y/h/c: Your Hair Color

Prompt Given To Me By @ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhghhhh.tumblr.com: hey!! so the reason I'm messaging is because I wanted to request something but can't fit it all into an ask lmao. anyways could i please request a Paul Lahote x reader where the reader has been super close to the whole pack for years and has been Paul's imprint but doesn't know it (bc Sam thought it would be best to keep u away from it all) and they decide to finally tell you about being shapeshifters and being Paul's imprint and you're so mad about them not telling u earlier and there's a huge argument and they and Paul tries to calm you down but you say stuff like 'leave me alone' and things like that and it sounds like you're rejecting him/the bond in ur angry breakdown. anyways Paul is heartbroken and can't get out of bed or eat or anything so the guys finally convince you to come back bc they and Paul need you and it's just the reader cuddling with him and getting him out of bed to take a shower and eat and he realizes that you're not going anywhere and it's just like healing the imprint bond? sorry for this WALL of text, I've just had this idea stuck in my head for a while lol. if you don't want to do it, that's completely fine!! thank you for your time ♡

ok so my guy,, bc this fic has been stuck in my head for a bit, some scenes have developed? so idk i hope this isn't too much, but if u do write it, would u be willing to add like some angst to it, obvi, and maybe a scene/part lol where when the reader tries to get him to shower (bc the misinterpreted rejection made him like super depressed and he just felt low about himself) he won't shower, because he doesn't want to come out and the reader is gone. so either they shower together (not smutty just angst&fluff) or she sits like in the bathroom while he showers LOL. and when he feels a bit better, they go down to eat and he's touching some part of her at all times. if this is too much to like,, include then that's a-okay. i just need to get this OUT of my MIND ugh lmao!/!

Reader Gender: Female

Summary: The Reader has been friends with most of the pack members for her whole life. Which is why, after months of silence and strange changes, she was willing to let them back into her life— until she finds out she’s been told lies that leave her in danger, of course. After a big freak out and two weeks of avoiding them, the boys come begging for her help; it turns out that Paul has some wolf-y claim on her, and whatever she said to him has left him worse for wear...

Warnings: Mentions of Depression, Nudity, Angst, and Cursing.

A/n: this is literally like a whole novel I’m so sorry I got carried away. this is kinda based on a lot of fics I read where the imprint has the potential to really hurt people and I named Paul’s dad.

Word Count: 2.9k+

“The legends are real!?”

Y/n Y/l/n hasn’t ever been so disturbed in her entire life.

After weeks of radio silence, Sam Uley’s little ‘gang’, mostly consisting of people she’d known since childhood, had slowly trickled back into her life. What started as a grocery run with Paul or a movie with Jared had turned into big bonfire parties including Jacob Black and his gaggle.

But that was months ago. Months. And now, as she sits by a fire, surrounded on either side by them, they decide to tell her their little secret?

“Y/n.” Sam says as she abruptly stands, eyes stern and hand raised placatingly.

His actions only served to upset her more and her skin bristles with irritation. Sam was acting as if she, a human surrounded by shape shifters, was the unstable one. As if she could do any damage to things built to kill vampires.

“Don’t you dare, Sam.” She clenches her fists, glaring right back at him. “It’s been months- months- and you’re telling me now?”

“It’s not exactly an easy thing to bring up.” He reasons, voice a little less demanding. “We all wanted to be sure that you were ready to know.”

“Ready?!” Y/n laughs mirthlessly, y/e/c eyes wide with disbelief, “When was I supposed to be ready Sam? W-when one of you gored me? When a cold one ripped me apart?”

Her hands shake as she puts them on her forehead, blinking back tears. Growing up all she’d ever heard were stories of humans getting dragged into fights between wolf and vampire, and she couldn’t bring herself to look Emily in the eye because it was suddenly apparent that wolves alone could hurt people too.

It was so bad, whatever happened to Emily, that they said a bear mauled her— Y/n didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

“It’s not like that, Y/n/n.” Embry chimes in, reaching out to grab his friend's arm.

She yanks her body out of the way and gathers her belongings quickly.

“What is it like then, Call?” She holds her bag to her heaving chest, “because it seems to me that you all have the ability to turn into giant, slobbery freaks that are built for killing vampires and, after completely dropping me for weeks, you decided to keep it secret from me for months. Did it even occur to you that I would’ve been better off knowing right off the bat?!”

No one says anything. Eight shifters and two of their girlfriends sit there, just staring at her like she was speaking a different language.

“You know,” Y/n has to clear her throat to steady her wavering voice, “had you guys really been souped-up on drugs like everyone says, maybe I could’ve handled the lying. But my life was clearly potentially in danger, and you let me hang around without saying anything. I- God I don’t want to see you people right now.”

She leaves with that, stepping over logs and storming back down the beach with determination. Faintly over the roar of her heartbeat, she can hear someone scrambling to stand behind her.

“Wait!— shit, sorry-” Paul grunts, jogging to catch up with her- “Y/n-“

With an unusual gentleness, his warm hand wrapped around her forearm. For a moment, deep in the back of her mind, a foreign feeling tells her to stop, to listen; but that small voice is quickly smothered by the rational part of her brain, and she wrenches her arm from his grip.

“Don’t touch me!” She snaps, lowering her voice, “Leave me alone- I need to be alone.”

Paul stands there, dumbstruck, an unreadable look in his eyes as she walks away. And he’d continue to stand there, looking like a kicked puppy long after her retreating form became a blur amongst the darkness of the beach.

“Paul?” Sam is hesitant, hand hovering over the younger boy’s shoulder a minute before he touches him, “You okay?”

Shrugging his leader’s arm off his shoulder, Paul sighs. “No...I...I’m just gonna head home.”

Instead of going in the directions of the cars, the wolf stalks off toward the woods; Emily stands from her seat, wrapping her sweater more around herself as she watches Paul leave. Concern is written all over her features.

“He’ll be fine, Em,” He pulls her in for a hug, “it’ll all work out eventually.”

ஓ๑♡๑ஓ

Y/n does a good job of avoiding them for a while.

She turns her phone off a few days in and avoids going to First Beach, even when Washington gets a rare, warm summer feel. Books that have sat long forgotten on her shelves get read and TV shows she’s always meant to catch up on get watched; it’s boring and she runs out of options, at one point thinking of dying her hair y/f/c just to spice things up, but it allows her to think. (Or at least it allows this strange little voice in the back of her head to tell her that she needs to go back to them.)

The next time she sees any of the boys is exactly two weeks after the bonfire incident.

She’s curled up on her couch, picking at some of the Clearwaters’ fish fry and barely watching an episode of ANTM, when a fist comes banging down on her door. Turning off the TV, she tiptoes to the window, peeking under the curtain as carefully as she can.

As she expected, Jared Cameron and Embry Call are on her porch, the former standing in front of her door with his hip cocked, the other rooting around in her mother’s plants for something. Cringing, she hopes if she’s quiet enough that they’ll just go away.

Her front door opens within minutes, however, and she realizes her hoping is fruitless.

Should’ve known you can’t hide from wolves, she can’t help but think bitterly.

“Y/n?” Jared calls out through the house, “we know you’re here.”

“Yeah, and you guys should probably move your spare key,” Embry tacks on, flicking the light switch to the living room up, “I've known you forever and it’s still in the same place.”

From her spot by the window, the y/h/c haired girl glares at the two boys, arms crossed over her chest. Embry gives her a lopsided grin and holds the key out to her, his bud plopping down on the couch and pulling her abandoned plate into his lap.

Y/n extends a hand to take the key.

“Has it really been in the same place?” She sounds a little more defeated than she’d like.

“Yeah, it’s always been in your mother’s cornflower pot.”

“That’s...kinda sad.” She wrinkles her nose, pocketing the key with the intention to hide it better later, “but uh, I’ve been ignoring you for two weeks for a reason. Peacefully breaking into my house kinda furthers my need for space.”

Embry scratches the back of his neck.

“Well,” He says, “we need you to come back, man. Paul won’t talk to anyone- Sam doesn’t know if he’s eating, and he won’t even get out of bed for patrol! He needs his imprint-”

“His what?” She cocks her head to the side and Jared snorts from the couch.

“She left before we got there, nimrod,” Jared mocks through a mouthful of food, “she doesn’t know what an imprint is.”

He lets out an indignant “Hey!” as Y/n walks by, snatching her plate back from him on her way to the kitchen. Embry chases after her, a grumpy Jared jumping up from the couch to follow.

“You’re his imprint— you’re basically his soulmate!”

“Really?” She says warily, sealing the fish and putting it back in the fridge.

Both boys nod clumsily.

“You remember a few weeks ago when you saw each other for the first time again and he kinda just stood there like an idiot while you talked?”

“Yeah? Oh!-” She brings her hands up to her mouth, brows furrowed as she recalls.

It was exactly Jared had said. She and Paul had seen one another for the first time in a long time and the minute her y/e/c eyes looked into his, it was like he’d been struck dumb.

Embry gives her an encouraging look, “An imprint is...It's not like love at first sight, really. It's more like… gravity moves… suddenly. It's not the earth holding you here anymore, she does… You become whatever she needs you to be, whether that's a protector, or a lover, or a friend. When you snapped at him last week he thought you were rejecting him….”

A part of her thought about how absurd it was that he knew that whole speech. But the bigger part of her came to a realization that made her stomach churn.

“So he's all depressed… because… of me?” She whispers, leaning back on the counter.

Embry, always a rather sympathetic person, opens his mouth to comfort her, but Jared cuts him off.

“Basically. So are you going to come with us so we can help Paul or are you going to continue being petty?”

In any other circumstance, Y/n probably would’ve thrown something at her for calling her petty. She felt she was completely justified in her actions. A part of her wonders if she can really believe them— they’d spent months lying to her after all. But a larger part thinks about Paul, curled up in his bed, slowly desecrating because he thinks she rejected him.

If it were really all some ploy to get her to listen to them, then she’d at least be the person who chose the well-being of her friend over a petty disagreement.

“I’m coming.” She affirms, pushing herself off the counter, and letting the boys lead her to the car.

ஓ๑♡๑ஓ

Jared and Embry drop her off in front of the Lahote household. They tell her something but she can’t really hear them over her heartbeat, she doesn’t even know they’re gone until it’s too late to turn back.

Getting into the house wasn’t the hard part. Paul’s father, Cyrus, had been leaving as she arrived, and, after he watched her stare at the house with a fearful expression for a few minutes, he happily let her in. The hard part was willing her legs to take her up the stairs to Paul’s room, and then it was opening his bedroom door.

Y/n has known Paul since they were eight, but she was afraid of him until they were eleven. He wasn’t mean, per se, but his anger made him do mean things; she wasn’t entirely happy with puberty and it’s monthly gifts, but whatever it did to make her suddenly un-afraid of him she was grateful for. But now, standing in front of his bedroom door, she had a nagging fear that Paul would revert to that eight year old boy who threw lunch boxes and twisted arms behind backs until people cried.

The door creaks slightly as she struggles to push it open.

His room is almost completely dark except for the light coming from the hallway behind her. Trash and dirty clothes have formed a compact layer on his bedroom floor, foot sized holes leading up to the twin sized bed in the corner. On the bed, amongst the blankets she’s sure he doesn’t need, is Paul— or at least, a Paul sized lump.

As gross as it is, she’s kind of relieved he’s been eating.

“Paul?” She whispers tentatively, stepping toward the bed.

The lump flinches and turns toward her.

“Y/n?”

If the room and the description of his state weren’t heartbreaking enough, his voice definitely was. Hollow, rough, and small, everything it never was, everything Paul wasn’t.

“Is that you?”

“Yeah...it’s me..”

She carefully steps over to the bed, and Paul slowly sits up, pushing his blankets to the side. There’s a beat of silence as she stands between his legs, his reluctant hands coming to rest on her waist after a minute. Y/n let’s him have another to gather his thoughts.

“You really came…” Tears well up in his eyes and loops his arms around her back.

She runs a hand through his hair. “I did, and I’m so sorry, if I had known—”

Paul nuzzles her stomach, “S’fine, you didn’t know, and you’re here now.”

There’s a sort of cute, euphoria lacing his voice and he’s visibly much more relaxed.

“Just don’t ever say that again…”

“I won’t, I promise.”

She’s surprised when he manhandles her into his lap, but she doesn’t really mind. He’s warm and strangely familiar and something about it just— clicks.

“When was the last time you spent, I dunno, a minute or two out of your room?” Y/n asks softly, y/e/c eyes glancing about the room.

The shifter’s only response is a shrug, too busy nosing around her neck with vigor. When he finds a certain spot, it makes her squeak, and this seems to excite him like a puppy finding out its favorite toy makes noise.

“You need to bathe, eat something substantial,” She intertwines their fingers, “and the...pack...they’re really worried about you— are you even listening to me?”

He looks up at her then and flashes her a sheepish smile, answering her question. Pursing her lips, she pulls his arms from around her.

“C’mon, Paul.” She stands up and takes his hand. “We’re gonna get you cleaned up.”

She moves toward the door, urging him forward, only to be jerked to a stop as he stays put. He looks a little distressed when she turns back to him, brows furrowed, almost like he’s in pain.

“Paul?”

He grunts, jaw clenched as the cogs turn in his head. Y/n cocks her head and reaches out for his other hand. It felt like some sort of supernatural intuition, one she’ll blame on the imprint and ask Emily about later.

“Paul, hon, why won’t you come shower?”

“I’m afraid you'll leave,” He says bashfully, “it’s stupid, I know, but part of me is afraid you’ll leave while I’m in the shower.”

Y/n couldn’t help but feel a little heartbroken at his confession. Paul was part wolf, and part of being part wolf was imprinting— she almost wishes she’d have stayed long enough to listen, or been able to focus as the boys debriefed her on the ride over because only being able to speculate how much she’d actually hurt him was eating her alive. He wouldn’t even shower, something he desperately needed to do, because of what she’d said.

Taking a deep breath, she barely registers the words she’s about to say.

“I’ll wait with you, I’ll sit on the toilet, you’ll see me there.”

And true to her word, Y/n does sit on the toilet while Paul showers, reading the information on soap bottles to distract herself from the fact that he was there next to her, very naked. Occasionally he asks her what she’s doing, and she reads the ingredients out loud to the best of her ability, and he laughs a little— she tries to hide her smile, but she was too happy he was laughing.

She closes her eyes when he gets out, letting him dry himself off and pull on some clean shorts. He throws the wet towel at her when he’s done, eliciting a “Hey!” that makes him laugh again.

Now that he’s clean, the two of them descend into his quiet house. Y/n navigates the kitchen, her wolf attached to her hip and being less than helpful, and makes them both something to eat— he doesn’t do much more than stand behind her, wrapped around her, making her life more difficult.

“I’m so happy you came back.” He says, watching her work.

“I was always going to.” Y/n responds, her voice sure and steady.

They talk as they eat, sitting across from one another at the too big table in the Lahote household. Talk about how this was going to work, admitting feelings that always lingered, and everything in between; she hooks her leg around his, watching him scarf down his meal with a wrinkled nose and fondness glittering in her y/e/c eyes.

He’s...gross...but he’s hers, she’s kind of stuck with him.

A date is planned. An actual date.

Paul promises to take her to the local diner (and to wear a shirt, for once.)

“I’ve been saving up for something like this.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, and you can get that dessert you like.”

Y/n laughs softly, but heat spreads up her neck and settles in her ears and cheeks. It’d been a long time since that had been her favorite food, but it was the thought that counted...

When Cyrus Lahote returns from work later that night his son and the Y/l/n girl are awkwardly situated on his couch— him on his back, snoring, her lying on top of him, face tucked into his neck, also fast asleep. The older man turns off the TV and tosses a blanket over the pair, ascending up the stairs with a smile on his face.

Y/n Y/l/n was trustworthy. She’s always there when Paul is in a rut too big for him to handle...

#paul lahote #paul lahote imagine #paul lahote x reader #twilight wolf pack imagine #twilight wolf pack #twilight fanfiction #eclipse #twilight wolf imagines #embry call #jared cameron #sam uley

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parker-razor · 4 years ago

Text

many a dream about you

afab!reader x mando (no y/n)

5.2k words, 18+, EXPLICIT!!

warnings: SMUT (extended warnings under the cut), mentions of injuries, unprotected sex (use protection!), very little editing

summary: when you and mando are forced to share a bed together, you end up having a dream that reveals more than you had hoped...

author’s notes: ahhhh! this is my first fic!! i’ll be honest, i got so excited i wrote most of this in one sitting. indulge me in some of my favorite smutty tropes about everyone’s favorite space dad!

extended warnings: oral (f receiving), wet dreams, thigh grinding, mentions of rough sex, multiple orgasms, overstimulation... i think that’s it

*****

Stars, you were exhausted.

You had just spent three weeks on the Razor Crest with the only bed available to you being a cheap mattress that might as well have just been a sack stuffed with sand. On top of the little sleep you were running on, you had just finished loading three bounties onto the Crest and into carbonite while Mando patched himself up. Dragging three grown men onto the ship and freezing them took all the strength out of you.

You finally collapsed into the pilot’s seat in the cockpit, catching your breath and giving your muscles a well-deserved break. Your eyes flutter closed as your body decompresses from the hard work and no sleep it’s been put through these past weeks. Mando had hired you just a month ago to look after the ship while he was away on hunts. Not to mention the little green gremlin he had adopted as his own, who kept you company and looked to you to get taken care of. It was much better than the life you had known; growing up on the outskirts of Tatooine was hard enough as is, but when your little shop had been pillaged and ransacked, you had nothing left on the small, desert planet. Mando had shown up just in time, sitting next to you in a dive bar.

*****

You had never seen one of his kind before, and to be honest, you were overwhelmed with the way he carried himself. He was big, towering over everyone he passed on his way to the barstools. You wondered why he even bothered if he couldn’t remove his helmet to drink, but you’d never ask. He sat himself just a few stools from yours, and after stealing a few glances with flushed cheeks, you finally opened your mouth to say something.

“Bounty hunters like you must be pretty busy on a planet like this,” you said, trying to talk over the loud band playing in the corner. “Not too many upstanding people tend to find themselves here.”

Slowly turning his helmet to face you, the Mandalorian said, “What does that say about you?”

Damn, you thought, he was quick to the draw.

“It’s not exactly my choice to live here. I’d give anything to get off this ball of sand.”

He says nothing, just turns his helmet forward again. You figure that’s the end of that, at least you tried. You can now say that you’ve talked to a Mandalorian before.

After a few beats of silence, he finally speaks. “Anything?”

You whip your head towards him, trying to figure out where this was going. Of course you wanted to leave, but you didn’t want to come off too eager in case he wasn’t serious.

“I mean, what do you have in mind?” you ask, trying to act as calm as possibly, but you couldn’t help but get a little excited at the prospect of leaving.

“I have… a son. He’s very small and can’t take care of himself yet. I don’t like taking him hunting, but I can’t leave him on the ship by himself,” he pauses, piecing together his words carefully. “I need someone to look after him.”

“So, I’d be his babysitter?”

“And ship sitter. Just keep it clean, nothing complicated.”

You pretended to ponder his proposition, but you knew you’d say yes almost immediately. There was nothing left for you here; no family, no livelihood, no friends. This was the best deal you had gotten in a long time. Except…

“So, what do I get in return?”

“I’d pay you, as much as I can afford. But you’d have your own bed and food.”

You’re sold.

*****

You’re brought back to the present when you hear Mando’s footsteps ascend the ladder to the cockpit. The child is holding onto him, smiling when he sees your face.

“How bad are you hurt?” you ask cautiously.

“I’ll live. Just a gash.”

“Well, I got the bounties in carbonite. But I gotta say Mando, I don’t know if I can sleep another night in a row on that shitty mattress.” He says nothing, and you haven’t figured out if that’s a good sign or a bad sign.

“Not that I don’t appreciate you making room for me! I’m just saying, I think we both need a proper rest tonight, especially after today,” you backtrack. You hear him sigh, nodding his head in agreement.

“Alright. I passed an inn on the way back here. Let’s see if they have any vacancy, hopefully with a bed better than the one you have.” You blush, embarrassed that you came off as ungrateful.

Mando was a mystery to you. He was quiet, a man of few words. It was especially hard trying to read him without being able to see any facial cues or expressions. Nevertheless, something about him exuded strength. He was much taller than you, but he was also just… big. Especially with all the beskar adding a whole other layer of strength. You couldn’t explain the attraction you felt for him. Something about how he towered over you, his visor boring into your face made you weak in the knees. How could you feel this way for someone who you’d barely talked to, let alone never seen their face?

He made you feel weak, but for some reason you liked that. Growing up on your home planet, you had to learn to fight for yourself. You were strong, with curves and muscles that showed just how tough life had made you. You never let a man make you feel less than or weak, always ready to defend yourself. But you liked that Mando made you feel small. It made no sense, but it also made perfect sense.

Sometimes at night, you’d let your hands wander. One hand wandered up to your face, whether to bite down on a finger or cover your mouth to keep yourself quiet, and the other down the front of your pants. Being around Mando so much made it difficult to wait until after he fell asleep to take care of the burning need you felt for him. You had your fair share of flings with the boys in your village, but none of them made you feel the way Mando did. With the most subtle actions he could make a heat blossom in your stomach and goosebumps spread over your arms. Sometimes the way he’d fly the Crest made you clench your thighs together; he looked so in charge in that pilot’s seat. Rubbing tight circles on your clit, clenching around nothing while angling your hips just right, you would be sent into orbit at the thought of his hands taking care of you instead.

After you and Mando had packed up your essentials, you got Grogu into his pram and headed off to the village nearby. You had no idea what planet you were on, but the flowering trees brought some joy to you. In the past weeks travelling with Mando, you had seen so many new things. You had never once left your home, and things like trees and streams had you in awe. You would never get used to how it made you feel.

The village was small, and it didn’t seem like there was anything else around for miles. You got to the motel, one of the larger buildings in the area. The lobby was small and surprisingly clean, much cleaner than the interior of the Crest. An older woman, the innkeeper you presumed, stood at the desk.

“We’d like two rooms. How much would that be?” Mando asked, not interested in entertaining niceties.

“So sorry sir, we only have one room available. A few of our rooms are under renovation, and there’s only one unoccupied that is fit to house anyone,” the woman said with a sickly sweet smile.

Mando sighed, obviously conflicted with the choice laid in front of him. He turned to you for your input.

“I- I don’t mind sharing a room. We don’t have to if you’re not comfortable, I just thought it be nice to escape the ship for the night.” You rushed your words out, feeling shy at the prospect of sharing the room with Mando. He had his own quarters on the ship, and you had yours, if you could even consider them quarters. After a few beats, Mando put some credits on the desk, and took the key the woman was offering.

Pushing down the excitement you felt, you grabbed your things that you had set down and followed Mando to your room. It’s not like you hadn’t been living in close proximity with Mando for the past few weeks anyways.

But this was different.

And you didn’t fully realize why it was so different until you opened the door to your room and saw that there was only one queen sized bed. Your jaw dropped, as you looked to Mando for his reaction. Nothing, as usual. He just walked into the room as if nothing had changed.

How was this gonna go? Were you just supposed to… share? The bed wasn’t puny, plenty of room for the both of you. But this was crossing a line that you didn’t even realize had been established. You didn’t really know much about each other and hadn’t been acquainted for very long. Not to mention the burning need you felt for him growing day by day.

And now you had to share a bed with him. No big deal.

Grogu’s cries for attention brought you out of your reverie of thoughts. You picked him up from his pram and placed him on the bed, allowing him to take in the room. The love and affection for the child had grown immensely since Mando had first introduced the two of you. You were initially shocked at how silently affectionate Mando was with him. You had never expected him to be the paternal type. You had yet to learn how the curious pair had found each other; a small part of you wondered if Mando looked similar to the child under his mask.

Mando had set his things on the chair in the corner and mumbled something about using the refresher. And as quickly as the door shut, you heard the shower turn on and the sound of beskar hitting the floor.

The realization that Mando was maskless, naked, just a few feet away sent a shockwave through your body. Was he tan? Did he have blond or brown hair? Was he truly strong or did the beskar just add extra bulk? You imagined he had scars littering his body, with chest hair dusting his front. The thought of it trailing down beneath his pants sent a shiver down your spine. Stars, your mind was in the gutter.

The sun had set, and Grogu’s eyes started to flutter and shut on one of the pillows on the bed. You picked him up and cradled him, resting your cheek to his. You savored moments like this; the ones that made your heart warm and full of comforting joy. Grogu’s breathing slowed, letting out snores every once in a while. You heard the shower shut off, and carefully placed Grogu into his pram, closing the top for him to sleep in peace.

Mando stepped out of the refresher in a thin pair of sleep trousers, a similar shirt and, of course, his helmet. Your gaze made you realize that he was definitely not wearing underwear, not leaving much to the imagination. You felt your face heat up as you looked anywhere but at him, almost positive that your face has turned as red as the setting sun.

“Your turn,” Mando said as he sauntered to the chair in the corner. He placed his things on the ground, sat in the chair, and crossed his arms as if to get comfortable.

“You’re not sleeping over there, are you?” you asked.

“I… just assumed… I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.” Your blush was back with a vengeance.

“I don’t mind. We got this room to relax, and you sure as hell don’t seem at ease with the way you’re sitting.” He said nothing for a few moments before sighing and standing to walk over towards the bed.

Oh Maker, this is actually happening, you thought. What act was more intimate than sharing a bed with someone? Well, there was the obvious one, but…

You scurried to the washroom, desperate to cool yourself down and collect your thoughts. This didn’t have to be a big deal, and if you kept acting all standoffish like you had been, you’d chase Mando away with the bizarre energy you were emitting.

You splashed cold water on your face to calm your blush, brushed your teeth with vigor, and changed into your pajamas. Granted, they were much scantier than the ideal, but you hadn’t expected to be sharing a bed, let alone a room, with the Mandalorian.

Stepping out of the refresher, you see Mando lying in bed with the lamplight on. Maker, you wanted to nothing but climb in with him and lay on his chest…

His chest. This was the first time you’d seen him without all that bulky armor. Through his thin clothing you could tell he was strong, with broad shoulders and contoured muscle. His helmet turned towards you, and what you didn’t know was that he was eyeing you in your not-so-modest sleep clothes as well.

What you didn’t know was how Mando gazed at you when you held the child, cooing at him as he gently tugged on your hair or stroked your cheek. His helmet protected him from you finding out how often he stared at you in adoration. Your curves, your smile, your silent strength. Stars, he thought you were the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. But what you saw when he looked at you was a silent T-visor staring at you with no emotion.

After a beat, your gaze met the floor as you walked to the other side of the bed, closest to the window. You crawled under the covers, waiting for some quick comment or a reaction from the man next to you. Finally, he spoke.

“Are you sure you don’t want me in the chair?” he asked.

“Stars, Mando, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you’d want to be as far away from me as possible,” you responded, embarrassed.

“That’s- no, not at all. I, uh, just wanted you to feel comfortable,” he stumbled. You had never seen him so lost for words, so taken back.

“I promise, Mando, if anything I feel more comfortable with you next to me.” Oh Maker, why did you just say that? That was the most upfront you’d been with him. Just as you were about to take back your words…

“I feel the same,” he responded quietly. Stars, if your heart didn’t explode at his words.

It was quiet for a few moments, until you said, “Well… goodnight Mando.”

“Goodnight.” He turned off the lamplight and shuffled deeper under the blankets. You were unsure if you should stay as close to the edge as possible or be truly comfortable and let yourself get a little closer to Mando. Before you could make up your mind, exhaustion overtook you and you drifted to sleep.

*****

Mando stirred in your sleep, disturbed by something he hadn’t recognized yet. As he continued to drift in and out of sleep, he heard something that he wasn’t sure was a part of a dream or reality.

Quiet mumblings came from your side of the bed, mixed with indistinguishable groans. His instincts kicked in, becoming fully awake to survey the room for any threats. It took him a moment to realize that as you slept, you had moved closer to Mando – much closer.

Your leg was draped over his torso, with your chest pressed to his side and your arm resting on his chest. But what he noticed most was the way your hips rolled, your core grinding against the side of his thigh. Looking at your face, he could tell you were asleep. Your breaths grew heavier, quiet groans turning into moans. Mando felt his pants grow tighter, not know whether or not to wake you from your obvious wet dream.

Mando froze when he heard you say his name while your hips sped up. “M-Mando, don’t stop… Please…” Fuck, you were dreaming about him. He wanted nothing more than to rub the growing problem in his pants, but he knew that crossed a line.

As your breath started to hitch, he could tell you were getting close. Just as you were about to cum, you jolted awake, breathing heavily while taking in what was going on.

You looked down at the scene you had caused, rendered speechless. Flooded with humiliation, you jumped out of bed and ran to the refresher as Mando shouted your name. You slammed the refresher door and locked it, tears springing to your eyes. Fuck fuck fuck, this was bad. Did you just ruin everything? Mando must hate you now.

“Please open the door, I’m not mad. Let’s just talk,” Mando said through the door, not wanting to reveal how he felt behind a slab of wood. You said nothing, feeling utterly mortified. There’s no way you could look him in the eye (well, helmet) after getting yourself off on his thigh in your sleep. Fuck.

After twenty minutes of Mando trying to convince you that he wasn’t upset and he just wanted to talk, he gave up. Sighing, he pushed himself off the floor and went back to sit on the bed. Though the tension in his pants had gone down, he couldn’t stop thinking about the sounds you made. He looked down to see that you had left a wet spot on his leg, causing him to groan. He had to stop himself from thinking that way, at least for right now while you were upset.

Meanwhile, in the bathroom, you were in shock. You tried your best to recount what had happened, but it didn’t help that you were asleep for most of it. The dream you were having a blur; Mando on top of you, and the intense feeling of being filled to the brim. Then, you remember waking up to Mando staring down at you, putting two and two together, and that was that.

You realized that Mando was awake before you were, which means he was watching you… do that to him. He didn’t try to wake you up or stop you. He was watching you get off. That had to mean… he liked it. He liked seeing you like that. Right?

You slowly stood up from the bathroom floor, wiping the tears you didn’t notice had fallen down your cheeks. Taking a few deep breaths, you calmed your bedhead and opened the washroom door, rounding the corner to face Mando sitting on the bed.

He looked up from the spot on the floor he was staring at as he sat deep in thought.

“Are- are you okay?” he asked, uncertain of what he should say.

“I’m… I’m sorry. I was asleep and I wasn’t trying to make you uncomfortable,” you admit, eyes glued to the floor. A few moments of deafening silence pass, with you shuffling in the spot where you stood and Mando’s helmet fixed towards you.

“What did you dream about?” Mando asked quietly. The Mandalorian was normally so stoic and strong in his conviction that to hear his voice quiver in nervousness made your gaze shoot up to his.

“It’s… embarrassing. I don’t want you to think less of me.” Your face turned beet red, a trait of yours you didn’t realize you possessed until you met Mando. He was the first person to make you feel shy and flustered.

“I won’t, I promise. I just want to know… I need to know.”

“It was… about me. And you.” Mando rose to walk over to where you were standing, near the foot of the bed.

“What about us, exactly? You can tell me. Tell me everything.” You hesitated to meet his gaze, eyes wide and nervous.

“You were… on me. In me. All over me.” You felt yourself getting breathless as Mando got closer to you, as you retold your dream without getting too graphic yet still admitting that you had dreamt of him taking you.

“And was I gentle, or was I rough?” Mando’s voice grew husky, just as breathless as you. Maker, his voice made you weak at the knees.

“Gentle, at first. But the longer you went you got rougher. Much rougher.” Your voice dropped into a whisper as Mando found himself right in front of you, almost chest to chest. Your eyes dropped to admire his chest, what it’d look like without his shirt. You wanted to trace every scar that marked his skin, kiss him, bite him.

He grabbed your chin with his thumb and forefinger, drawing your gaze from his chest to his helmet.

“And which did you like better? Tell me,” he whispered through the modulator, but there was no filtering out how deep and raspy his voice had gotten, like you had never heard before.

“I… I was just happy you were touching me,” you whispered, in shock that this wasn’t just another dream. His hand drifted from your chin to your neck, caressing every inch of you. You closed your eyes, unable to believe that he was touching you without his gloves on.

Suddenly, both hands came to your waist and pulled you into his chest, your hands finding their place on his chest. You whimpered, never feeling so small, not knowing why you liked it so much.

“Do you want me to touch you, sweet one? Like I did in your dream?” he rasped.

“Please… please touch me, Mando.” He groaned at that, manhandling you so your back turned to the bed and quickly thrown onto the bed.

“I like hearing you beg, love. Beg some more for me.” You whimpered, flushed and embarrassed but in the best way. Mando yanked at your legs so they were hanging off the bed with him standing between your knees. His hands drifted from your stomach up to your breasts, squeezing them while his thumbs rubbed your hardened nipples through your shirt.

Unable to take it any longer, you sat up and yanked your shirt over your head as Mando did the same. His expanse of muscle was all you could think about, the thatches of chest hair made you want to run your hands all over him.

He dropped to his knees in front of you, playing with the waistband of your sleep shorts.

“Tell me, did I eat this sweet pussy of yours in your dream?” You moaned, unable to remember but wanting his mouth on you all the same.

“I want you to, but your helmet…” Mando grabbed the blanket that was at the end of the bed, throwing it so one end covered your stomach and the other fell near the middle of his back. Awkwardly, you saw him maneuver under the blanket to take his helmet off, and then your shorts.

Before you could say so much as a “please,” Mando’s mouth enveloped your cunt with his hot mouth. Your gasp was loud and ragged, not expecting him to feel this good. You felt him moan into you, licking from your hole up to the tip of your clit.

“Am I the one who made you this wet, my sweet one? You’re dripping onto the bed for me,” you heard him rasp under the blankets.

“Please, Mando, you feel so f-fucking good,” you gasp as he puts his mouth on you again. You reach under the blanket to grab his hair to pull him the exact spots you wanted his mouth to be. Maker, his mouth was immaculate. His tongue messily toyed with your clit, groaning in your cunt when you tugged his hair which sent vibrations everywhere.

When he found that one spot, just to the left of your clit, you started to feel that familiar tension in your stomach, the one you’d get when you’d touch yourself in the silence of night in the Crest. You tilted your hips just right as he sucked your clit into your mouth, letting out an animalistic moan.

As soon as you felt him hum into your cunt again, you were gone. You fell over a cliff higher than ever before as everything went utterly white, white in your vision and white noise in your ears.

Maker, you came so fucking hard. And through the whole thing, Mando licked and sucked at you, slowing down when you eventually came down. You felt like you were floating through the aftermath as Mando kissed the inside of your thighs, and through the reverie you were in you felt the tickle of facial hair on your skin. You smiled to yourself, finally able to know something about the appearance of the man you adored so.

Mando quickly put his helmet back on under the blanket before pulling himself over you, stroking your face with the back of his hand.

“Do you want more? Or do you want me to stop?” he asked. As spent as you felt, at the sound of his voice your body began rearing up for more.

“More. I need your cock, Mando, so badly,” you whimpered, feeling a brand new wave of wetness flood at the apex of your legs.

You picked your head up, finally wrenching your eyes open as you felt Mando start to take his pants off. You were very suddenly awake again when you saw his cock spring out. He was big, bigger than the boys you had taken by far.

“I- I don’t know if you’ll fit. I’ve never had a man bigger than you.”

“No, sweet one, you’ve only had boys. I can’t wait to be the first man who wrecks you,” he rasps into your ears as your hands wrap themselves around his neck and down his back. Stars, he was sexy, an odd mix of shy and domineering all at once.

He started rubbing the tip against your cunt, and suddenly you were on fire again. You had never tried to get yourself again after one orgasm, always too spent and high on dopamine to go again. So you never got to realize that once you had one, more orgasms were not very difficult to achieve. Until, Mando’s tip swirled around your clit and you could feel the coil tighten yet again.

“M-Mando, I’m gonna cum again if you keep doing that,” you whimpered, causing him to groan and only put more pressure on your clit.

“Then do it, my love. I want to see your face when you cum for me.” You let out a series of curses until you came again, slightly weaker than the previous one but it rocked through you. Before you could even come down, Mando thrusted himself into you in one go. You let out a yell bordering on a scream, feeling your pussy stretch itself to fit all of him. Stars, the burn of the stretch made you shiver.

“Oh f-fuck, my sweet girl has an even sweeter pussy,” he gasped as he started to thrust himself into you. “S-so fucking t-tight and w-warm, I’m not gonna last…”

Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as Mando’s thrusts sped up, slamming into you at an unfathomable rate.

“No no, look at me. Look at me while I’m making you feel good,” Mando growled as he grabbed your cheeks to make you look at his helmet. You tried so hard to keep your eyes open, but as Mando tilted his hips just right, jamming into your G-spot, you lost control over your body. You were saying something, but you were so far gone that you couldn’t decipher what it was.

“Is that- fuck- all you can say, pretty girl? Please? Please what? What do you need, fuck I’ll give you everything you want, just say the word,” Mando rambled, just as drunk on your pussy as you were on his cock.

“D-d-don’t stop, p-please don’t s-stop,” you uttered out, not completely sure if you were having one long orgasm or if it was building to something even bigger.

“I’m never gonna stop, baby, never wanna stop…” Without warning, an orgasm so strong racked through your body. You had never cum just from penetration before, but the way the hair at the base of Mando’s cock was brushing against your cunt as he fucked you sent you beyond the edge.

“Oh my fucking- stars, baby you’re so tight I can barely move… I-I’m gonna-“ Mando gasped as you felt him cum deep inside you, moaning louder than you thought he would.

You both gasped for breath, utterly exhausted from the best sex in both of your lives. Mando pulled out and laid next you on the bed, stroking your hair gently.

“I wish I could kiss you right now,” you croaked, voice almost gone from overuse. Silence fell over the two of you, and you wanted to take back your words, until…

“Close your eyes. And don’t open them. Promise?” he said.

“I promise, I swear I won’t,” you said, shutting your eyes with your heart leaping at the prospect of finally kissing him. After a few moments of the sounds of shuffling next to you, you felt a soft pair of lips meet yours. It was tentative at first, but after a few gentle pecks Mando caressed your face and kissed you with a passion so strong it took your breath away. You felt his mustache tickle your upper lip as he kissed like if he pulled away, he wouldn’t know what to do with himself.

When he finally pulled away, you reminded yourself to keep your eyes closed as he put his helmet back on. You pulled yourself over him, almost in the exact position you had found yourself in when you woke up from your dream, except this time Mando’s arm was draped under your neck.

“I’m glad we finally did that,” Mando admitted after a while. “I’ve wanted to kiss you since the first day you started living on the Crest.” You lifted your head from his chest and rested your chin on his right pec, gazing at his face.

“You mean that?” you ask.

“Why wouldn’t I?”

You grinned from ear to ear, thanking the Maker that this wasn’t just because Mando was horny and he had found you getting yourself off on him. He had wanted you, too.

“For a minute I thought…I thought you’d tell me to leave and never come back. I was so embarrassed to wake up like that. But… I guess it ended up helping us out,” you chuckled. You heard Mando chuckle too as his chest shook a bit, warming your heart.

“I will never ask you to leave. I want you to stay, I need you to stay,” he admitted quietly. “Plus, I don’t know anyone else who would take care of Grogu so well.”

“Oh, Maker, Grogu!” you exclaimed, realizing Grogu had been closed in his pram in the corner throughout the entire… act.

“The device is soundproof, he didn’t hear a thing,” Mando explained. You let out a sigh of relief.

“I don’t know, with those ears?” you laughed, hearing Mando laugh with you.

“Maybe they’re more for balance rather than hearing,” Mando replied, causing you to let out a loud laugh, making joy flood Mando’s body.

“We can only hope…”

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