#or in a hot cup of coffee or in your favorite meal or in your favorite object

[behindthecodes]

Concept art of The Forgotten Valley

#remember that stuffed toy you got on christmas #the one you took everywhere #the one you trusted your deepest secrets #your best friend #nowadays its found all worn out #old and abandoned #left somewhere inside the wardrobe or in some other kid's hands #and as you grow up you slowly begin to forget #how soft and warm it was to hug it #now you might look after warmth in someone else's embrace #or in a hot cup of coffee or in your favorite meal or in your favorite object #or perhaps #you've been wandering the past for too long #seeking comfort in these bittersweet memories #but it's never enough is it? #come and sit with me a while #leave the demon to his demons #rest your own soul #there's nothing else

[lazyjellyfish300]

Gentleman part 2 🌼💌

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

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

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

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

Part 1

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

------

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

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

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

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

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

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

"He's....um.....Greg?" 

"Greg?" 

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

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

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

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

-------

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

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

-----

Alchemax 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Miguel's eyebrow raises. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-----

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

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

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

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

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

"That's correct." 

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

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

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

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

"CEO?" Your ears perk up. 

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

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

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

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

----- 

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Atta girl." 

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

-----

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

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

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

2-0-9-9

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

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

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

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

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

"There you are!" 

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

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

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

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

"Um...what do you have?" 

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

You think for a moment then tell her your selection. 

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

---- 

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

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

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

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

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

You nod, "Miguel..." 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your breathing gets a little heavier. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What are these for?" 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Um, touching..." 

"Over, or under clothing..." 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Miguel nods. "Yes, I have." 

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

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

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

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

You hesitate. "Can I ask why?" 

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

"You were married before?" 

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

"I'm sorry..." You say quietly. 

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

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

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

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

 

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

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

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

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

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

You nod silently, wetting your lips. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Take care of her for me, Noir." 

"You got it, boss." 

----- 

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

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

"Hey..." 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You feel a knot in your stomach. 

"What are....w-what..." 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

----

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

----

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

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

All yours,

-Dr. O’Hara

----

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

[corroded-hellfire]

As You Wish, Part 4 - Eddie Munson x Reader

A collaboration with my darling @munson-blurbs 💚

Note: I will never ever ever stop getting excited when someone says they enjoy this series. I’ve become so attached to this gang and I’m glad you all like them as well! You can read part three here.

Summary: Your first taste of domestic bliss with Eddie gets a wrench thrown in it

Warnings: smut, oral m and f receiving, talk of drug abuse, talk of abusive parents and shitty home life

Words: 8.4k

[As You Wish masterlist]

You’ve never been much of a morning person, preferring to drag yourself out of bed and into the kitchen with a hope and a prayer that your coffee will perk you up. People who start their days with a spring in their step and a chipper, “good morning!” are the bane of your existence. If anyone even tries to have a semblance of a conversation with you before the caffeine hits your bloodstream, you instantly dislike them. It’s safe to say that mornings aren’t your thing. 

That all changes when you get to start your day with Eddie’s head between your legs. 

“Fuck, holy shit!” you cry out, digging your fingers into his messy curls. Your legs rest on his muscular shoulders, trembling with each flicker of his tongue. “Right there, baby. Right there!”

Eddie hums his acknowledgment, sending vibrations shooting up your core. This wasn’t what you’d had in mind when you’d asked him what he wanted for breakfast, but you’re certainly not complaining. 

He grips onto your thighs as he laps at your pussy, and you can see him rutting his pelvis against your mattress. A small part of you wants to tell him to just get inside you, but you’re far too content being doted on. Besides, you know he won’t want to come before you do.

You choke out a sob as his nose nudges your clit, and you feel your orgasm start to build. “Almost—s’close, Eddie,” you whimper. Determined to make you feel good, he sucks on the sensitive bud while slipping a thick finger into you, crooking it and making a come-hither motion. 

“Yes! I’m coming!” You unravel as the coil in your belly snaps, grinding on Eddie’s face as you finish. 

Eddie brings you down from your high, lowering your legs back onto the bed. “I think breakfast is my new favorite meal of the day,” he teases, wiping your slick from his chin. He crawls towards your upper body, pressing his kiss-swollen lips to yours. 

“Mmm, my turn,” you say salaciously. “Lay back, handsome.”

You start to tug at the waistband of his pajama pants, nibbling at his stomach before kissing over the love bites. 

“Um, sweetheart?” Eddie mumbles sheepishly. “If you do that…well, I’m not like the 20-year-olds anymore. Gonna take me a minute to get hard again.”

“Eddie.” You pull down his pants and boxers, watching as his throbbing cock thwacks against his happy trail. Fuck. “I want you in my mouth. Wanna make you feel so fucking good, just like you do for me, okay?”

“Mhm,” he mewls, hissing in pleasure as you lick from base to tip, swirling your tongue around and collecting his pre-cum. 

Wordlessly, you take him into your waiting mouth, hollowing out your cheeks as you suck him off. Your dominant hand wraps around the part of him you can’t fit without gagging, and the other cups his balls. Fighting back a grin as he bucks his hips involuntarily because you are making him feel that good. 

You bob your head, taking as much of his length as you can. Eddie grips the sheets, swearing and moaning out your name. “Can’t—fuck—hold out any longer,” he manages. “Bend over the fucking bed, shit.”

Releasing him with a soft pop and doing as you’re told, Eddie kneels behind you and grabs onto your waist. “Gonna come on this perfect ass,” he grunts, tugging on his cock. “S’fucking gorgeous. Take my cum, you gorgeous fuckin’ girl.” You feel his hot release spill onto your ass. Eddie’s breathing heavily, a giant smile on his face. “Damn, s’like a work of art.”

“Either take a picture or clean me up,” you say with a giggle. 

Eddie’s eyes widen. “Could I…can I take a picture?”

“Polaroid camera is on a hook in the closet,” you tell him.

“Fuck yeah,” Eddie mumbles to himself as he climbs off the bed. Once the camera is secured, Eddie makes his way back to his previous position behind you. “Shit, gonna need a lock box to keep these in,” he muses as he looks through the small lens of the camera. “Nobody gets to see this shit but me.” You start to wiggle your ass, which has Eddie chuckling as he takes a few more shots. “Okay, baby, now I’m coming in with the clean up.” Swiping up his long tossed away boxers, he uses the material to clean his cum from your skin. 

Balling up the soiled boxers, he tosses them into your hamper, attempting to recreate a basketball shot. But he misses. “Ah fuck, this is why I didn’t do sports. And cause I hate ‘em. Anyway, what I was gonna say before my mouth was suddenly busy was, how bout I take my girl out to breakfast?”

“That your way of saying you’re tired of my cooking already?” you ask with a giggle. Walking over, you wrap your arms around Eddie’s neck and let your naked body rest up against his. “Cause so far the only meal I’ve cooked for you in this apartment was dinner last night. And between you and the boys, you ate the whole thing!”

“You know us Munson men love you and your cooking,” Eddie says, pressing a kiss against your forehead. 

“And you inhaled that casserole like it was your last meal. No, wait. Let me rephrase. You inhaled the casserole like your life depended on me. You ate me like I was your last meal.” 

“The thing is, my girl deserves to be taken out. First, she let me devour her, then wore me out with her sinful mouth. Think I need to spoil her some. Plus, I selfishly really want people to see me with the most beautiful girl in the world on my arm.” 

“Such a sweet talker,” you say as you trail your hands down his shoulders and settle them on his chest. “I would love to go to breakfast.”

Eddie steals one last kiss before he’s pulling away to get to his suitcase and so you can rifle through your closet. You settle on a pair of jeans and a soft cream sweater that Eddie had complemented once. It was a few months ago, but you still thought of his sweet words whenever you saw the garment. Eddie’s ready to go in his usual black on black on black ensemble. And looking hot while wearing it. Opening the bedroom door, you step out into the hall, Eddie right behind you. A glimpse of Jess in the kitchen catches your attention so you head that way. She’s standing at the counter, chopping something up with a knife—an onion, by the smell of it. But it’s the big, bulky headphones she’s wearing that make you laugh. 

You tap on her shoulder, causing her to jump and spin around to face you. The knife is still clutched in her hand, so you take a step back. Shoulders sagging in relief, Jess places the knife back on the counter and takes off the headphones. 

“Those new?” you ask. “Never seen them before.”

“Yep,” Jess says, appraising her new purchase. “Went out and got them the morning after I found out Eddie would be staying with us. They have come in very handy. Even just a few minutes ago.” She smirks, your face heating up. 

“Your eardrums should be safe for a while,” you assure her. “We’re heading out to get breakfast. Not sure what we’re doing afterwards.”

“No worries. Have fun, you two.” Jess leans back so she can see Eddie where he’s standing in the hallway. “Bye, Eddie!”

“Bye.” He gives her a wave as you come back to join him. Lacing your fingers with his, you grab your keys and head out of the apartment. 

You hop into the front seat of Eddie’s truck, buckling your seatbelt and turning on the radio. 

“Please, not Billy Joel again,” he begs, pulling onto the road towards Benny’s. 

“Oh, of course not.” You bat your eyelashes with feigned innocence, tuning the dial to a Top 40 station. 

I’ll tell you what I want, what I really really want!

So tell me what you want, what you really really want!

“Nope, no way,” Eddie protests as you increase the volume and start to sing along. “We are not listening to the Spice Girls.”

“Aw, c’mon, baby,” you pout. Truthfully, you’re not the biggest fan of the girl group, but messing with Eddie is too much fun. “You know the words.”

If you wanna be my lover

You gotta get with my friends

Make it last forever

Friendship never ends!

“What the hell does that even mean?” Eddie groans, switching to a station playing AC/DC. “I’m sorry; I love you, but I couldn’t listen to another second of that.”

“Calm down, Grumpy Spice. I like this more, anyway.”

“Good. Shows you’ve got some taste. I mean, after all, you did pick me.” The self-satisfied smirk on his face has you rolling your eyes. 

“Oh, we’re not even gonna go there,” you say with a laugh. “Look who you picked the first time around.”

“Well, shit, you got me there.” Eddie laughs along with you as he pulls into a parking space. 

The diner is mostly empty, so you get your French Toast and Eddie his waffles fairly quickly. 

“These are way better than those frozen Eggos,” he says, pouring syrup on top. 

“Y’know you’re supposed to heat them up before you eat them, right?” you giggle, and Eddie flips you off. He steals your cup of juice and takes a large swig of it. 

“Payback,” he says. 

“Just don’t backwash,” you warn.

Eddie raises his eyebrows as he stares at you. “You’re gonna tell me not to let any of my saliva get into your drink after where my tongue was just an hour ago?”

“Oh…shut up,” you say, because he’s got you. You steal a piece of waffle from his plate just to be a brat. 

“You have anything you have to do today?” Eddie asks before shoving too large of a piece into his mouth. 

“Nope,” you say. “Okay, well technically, I have to read a few pages in my textbook for class tomorrow, but I can do that before bed.”

“What would you say about coming apartment hunting with me?”

You blink up at him, eyes wide and curious. It makes you look so innocent, Eddie thinks. Maybe this is how he makes you feel when he turns those big cow eyes on you. 

“You want me to come with you?” you ask slowly, as if you didn’t understand the question.

“Well, yeah,” Eddie says with a chuckle. “I’m hoping you’re gonna be spending a lot of time there too, ya know. I’d love your input. Now, the real question is…do you think it needs to be a three bedroom? I do. I think if the boys share a room, it’ll be the end of what’s left of my sanity.”

Giggling, you nod your head. “I could see a child’s version of WWE wrestling going on in that room if they’re forced to share.” 

“Right,” he affirms. “And I’d prefer to stay out of emergency rooms if possible, so…three bedrooms it is. One for Ryan, one for Luke, and one for…” He trails off, unsure of how to finish that sentence. 

You take his hand, stroking the back of it with your thumb. “Hey, it’s okay. I’m totally fine with being a guest until everything gets sorted out. Besides, the kids are going through a lot of changes right now. I think it needs to just be them and their daddy for a little while.” 

Eddie brings your hand up to his lips, placing a soft kiss against the back of it. Traces of syrup from his mouth stick to your skin, but you couldn’t care less. “How did I manage to find the most perfect woman in the world?”

“A little birdie told me you needed a babysitter, and I appeared on your doorstep,” you tease, tucking a lock of his hair behind his ear. “Speaking of which…I think I’m out of a job.”

Eddie crinkles his nose in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“I’m not gonna be paid to babysit my boyfriend’s kids!” you laugh. “Is there anyone at their school who needs a babysitter?”

He thinks for a moment. “Steve’s thinking about going back to work now that the kids are older. Take some of the pressure off of Nancy to be the sole breadwinner, y’know?”

“Perfect!” You clap your hands together. “Could you ask him for me?”

“‘Course,” Eddie smiles. “Just promise you won’t fuck him.”

Your eyes widen as tears well up in the corners, your mouth twitching as you try to hold back your hurt. “Wh-what did you just say?” You wince as your voice cracks, giving away your true feelings. 

Eddie immediately recognizes that he’s fucked up and reaches for your hands. “Oh, no! Baby, baby, no. I was just kidding.” He stands up and brings his chair to your side of the table so he can sit next to you. “My sweet girl.” He brings your hands up to his mouth and smothers your knuckles in kisses. “I’m sorry, baby. That was just a bad joke. That’s all it was, okay?”

A few tears break through the barricade and slide down your cheeks. Eddie’s quick to wipe them away with his thumbs. 

“D-Do you not trust me? You t-think I only wanted you because I’m your babysitter? Is that why you wanted me?”

“Fuck, princess, no.” He pulls you into his arms, but you don’t raise yours to wrap around him. “It was just a shitty joke, I promise. Of course I trust you. I trust you with my life—with my sons’ lives. And I know that’s not what’s between us. It’s not because you were their babysitter. I’m really fucking glad you were though, ‘cause I don’t know how else we would have met.”

Pulling back from him, you nod your head. You believe Eddie. But this wasn’t a sore spot you knew you had until he poked at it. The insecurity of it already has its claws in your heart. “What if Nancy thinks—”

Eddie presses a kiss to your temple. “She won’t,” he says firmly. “If you want, I can arrange a playdate between the kids, and you two can get to know each other better.”

You think about Nancy: poised, confident, beautiful, and intelligent. What would she think of you, a twenty-year-old babysitter who fell in love with a parent she worked for?

“I dunno,” you whisper, feeling yourself deflate. “I don’t want her to hate me, or look down on me.” Or think I’m some kind of homewrecking slut, you think sourly. 

“I don’t think anyone could hate you,” Eddie muses, gently rubbing your thigh. “She’ll see how great you are with the kids—not to mention how much I fucking adore you—and you’ll be best friends in no time.”

While you appreciate his enthusiasm, you don’t share it. Still, you agree to give it a try. For Eddie. 

Looking at apartments gets off to a rough start. The first place only has two bedrooms, and the second bedroom is basically a glorified closet. The rent at the second place is astronomical, with Eddie nearly choking on his own saliva when the property manager tells him the amount. The third place seemed perfect, until a gigantic roach scurried along the kitchen counter. 

“‘M sorry, baby,” Eddie says, stifling a yawn as the two of you climb back into his car. “I thought that last one was gonna be it for sure.”

You feign innocence. “You mean you didn’t want a pet cockroach to keep you company?” He gives you a playful shove, making you giggle. 

“Hard pass.” He throws the car in reverse as he backs out of the parking spot, putting his arm around the back of your seat as he checks behind him. Something about it stirs up desire in you, but you know he needs to stay focused. Road head will have to wait. 

“How many more places are we looking at today?”

“I think there’s three left on the list. We don’t have to do them all today if you don’t want to, though,” Eddie says as he pulls out onto the main road. 

“I don’t mind,” you tell him truthfully. “I kinda like it. I mean, I know I’m not living there, but doing something domestic like this with you is making me really happy.”

Eddie reaches over for your hand and brings it to his lips. He kisses the back a few times, before lowering your joined hands. “Want you by my side for all these kinds of things. Big decisions and shit, ya know?”

“Like a partner?”

“Exactly.”

Partner. The word sends a tingle down your tummy. Yeah, you’ve had boyfriends before. But that’s all they really were. Just someone to spend time with while you’re going to school, not really taking on actual life with one another, just having fun. But this with Eddie? It’s the first real partnership you’ve ever had. It might take a little getting used to since you’ve never been part of a team like this before. But it sounds wonderful to you. 

“What’s the address of the next place?” Eddie asks, breaking you out of your head. You scramble through your purse to find the scrap of paper. 

“1007 Crane Street,” you read. “I think that’s pretty close to Starcourt, yeah?”

Eddie nods, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. “Maybe after we check this one out, I can take you to the lingerie store they have there. Treat you to something pretty,” he adds, salaciousness dripping from his tongue. 

“Can we focus on finding you a place to live? Jess is gonna burn out those headphones if you stay with us any longer.”

“It’s still early in the day. We can do both,” he reasons. “I think I turn right at this light, yeah?”

“Yes.” 

Eddie makes the turn, and the apartment complex is only a few miles up the road. The outside looks nice, dark brown siding giving the buildings the impression of being log cabins. The thicket of trees around the area only adds to the whole campsite vibe. Eddie pulls the truck into a spot right in front of the office and you hop out. With one hand, Eddie pushes the door open for you, with the other, he laces his fingers with yours.

The property manager is a younger man in his late twenties, well-dressed and well-spoken. Even though you’ve both made it abundantly clear that Eddie is the one renting the place, the manager mostly addresses you. 

“I’ll let you take a look around,” he says as he leads you to unit 129. “And if you need anything, give me a call.” He slips you his business card and leaves without even shaking Eddie’s hand. 

“This place looks perfect,” you muse, waiting for your boyfriend’s response. When you don’t hear anything, you look over to find him with a bemused look on his face. “What?”

“Babe, what do you mean ‘what?’’ Eddie laughs. “He was totally hitting on you!” He wraps his arms around your waist, pressing kisses to the nape of your neck. “Can’t blame him, though. You’re a hot piece of ass.”

You turn around, leaning into him as you hook your fingers through his belt loops. “What do you think, Munson? Can you picture yourself living here?”

“Mhm,” he nods. “I can picture me fucking you on the kitchen counter, and in the bedroom, and in the shower…” He jogs to the door, glancing around the hallway. “How long do you think we have until your secret admirer returns?”

You roll your eyes. “C’mon. Let’s go put a deposit on this place so you can take me to the mall.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

When you step into the lingerie store, your eyes widen at the variety in front of you. Lace, velvet, silk. Bras, panties, teddies, corsets. And all available in an array of colors. 

“Holy shit,” you say under your breath. But not quiet enough so that your boyfriend doesn’t hear you. 

“What, baby?”

“There’s so much,” you say, gesturing to all the garments around you. “I don’t even know where to start.”

Eddie slips his arm around your waist and presses a kiss to your head as you look over a selection of panties. “Sweetheart, have you never had lingerie before?”

You shake your head as you pick up a pair of black lace panties. “Some sexy bras and underwear, but that’s it. Nothing like…” you trail off as you walk over to a mannequin who looked strapped into some type of bustier. “I wouldn’t even know how to put some of this stuff on.”

“Do you wanna go?” Eddie asks, brow pinching in concern.

“No! I wanna get something. I’m just not sure what. Here, you tell me what you wanna see me in.”

“Anything as long as it’s black. You look so sexy in black. And if you haven’t noticed, I’m partial to the color.” He gestures down to his black t-shirt, black jeans, and black leather jacket. 

“Want me to model some stuff for you?” you ask, gazing up at him from underneath your eyelashes and biting on your lower lip. 

“Very much so,” he says with a chuckle. 

“Okay. Um…you go sit over there, near the dressing rooms, I’ll grab a few things, then we’ll see how they look.” 

“Ooh, I love a good surprise,” he murmurs, hooking his fingers through your belt loops and pulling you to his chest. He brushes the pad of his thumb across your lower lip. “Fuck, already getting myself worked up. Go pick something out before I carry you outta here empty-handed.”

You giggle, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips. “Yes, sir,” you tease, but when you watch the color drain from his face, you realize you’ll have to explore that more in the future. 

Perusing through the racks of flimsy bras and lace teddies is more overwhelming than you’d imagined. Each time you try to choose one, doubts flood your mind. Will I look good in this? Will Eddie like it? What if he hates it but is too nice to tell me? What if I don’t turn him on? You try to shake the thoughts away, bringing your attention back to the lingerie. After a few moments, you settle on a cupless bra with a matching black thong, a black Spandex bodysuit, and a light pink babydoll piece. The last item isn’t Eddie’s favorite color, but it’ll make you look innocent and corruptible, so you don’t think he’ll mind. 

As you head back towards where Eddie’s waiting near the fitting rooms, you hear a tinny giggle coming from a petite blonde woman. She’s got her hand pressed to Eddie’s chest as she says, “Eddie Munson, you’ve still got your charm after all these years.” 

Despite your best efforts, you can feel the jealousy swirling inside you. Who the hell is she? And why is she talking to—no, why is she FLIRTING with my boyfriend?!

Eddie shoves his hands deep in his pockets and grins bashfully. “Yeah, that’s what my girl tells me.”

The blonde woman purses her lips, puzzled. “I thought you said that you and Brittany—”

“Oh, we’re completely done,” Eddie tells her. “But I, uh, got myself a girlfriend now.”

“Um, hi,” you pipe up, giving an awkward wave. “I’m the girlfriend.”

The woman puts on a tight smile. “Chrissy,” she introduces herself, hugging a corset to her abdomen. “Well, it was great seeing you again, Eddie. And, uh, nice to meet you,” she offers, scampering off towards the cashier. 

“Who was that?” you ask, brow furrowing as your eyes follow the woman’s steps across the store. 

“Chrissy Cunningham,” Eddie says, wrapping an arm around your waist. “We went to high school together.”

A quip about that being in the Stone Age dies on your lips as you turn back to face him. The way Eddie’s looking at you has you raising an eyebrow at him. A fond smile is carved on his mouth and his eyes are so soft and gentle that you feel like they could be made of actual chocolate. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“I can’t just look at you?” he asks. “You’re beautiful.”

Narrowing your eyes at him, you lean forward, in towards his face. “Okay, what do you want?”

Eddie lets out a loud clap of laughter before burying his head in your neck. He presses a few kisses there before remembering what you’ve got in your arms.

“All right, all right, enough wasted time. Get in that dressing room and show me what you’ve got.” He gives your ass a playful swat as you go to move behind the red velvet curtain of the dressing room. 

You realize that you were right before. You’re not sure how to properly put some of it on. A cupless bra is exactly what it sounds like; a bra without cups. So why does it feel so odd fitting it right on your body? Part of you is frustrated, but when you catch sight of yourself fumbling with the material in the mirror, you can’t help but let out a little giggle. If you had been told six months ago that you’d be trying on your first real pieces of lingerie for Eddie Munson, you would’ve punched the person for fucking with you. But here you are. And there he is, waiting for you on the other side of the curtain. 

Making a few last adjustments to some strategically placed straps, you’re satisfied with how the garment looks on your body. You just hope Eddie feels the same. “Uh, Eds? You can come in now.”

You poke your head out of the curtain and see his face lit up like Time Square on New Years. And he hasn’t even seen your body yet. Stepping back to allow room for your boyfriend, you hold your breath as he breaches the curtain, and his eyes immediately scan over your body. His jaw drops open, making an audible popping noise as his lips part. Large hands come out as if they’re going to grip you, but they freeze halfway between your bodies. 

“Holy fucking shit, baby. I mean…holy shit.”

“Very articulate,” you say with a giggle, but his words—or lack thereof—have you blushing. “Okay, let me try on the other ones.”

Eddie’s shaking his head. “Can’t wait that long,” he mutters, glancing down as he stiffens against the zipper of his jeans. “I’ll just buy ‘em all f’you.”

“Are you sure?”

“So fuckin’ sure,” he assures you, eyes never leaving your body as you change back into your clothes. “‘Bout to bust in my shorts like a goddamn teenager.”

You pull your shirt back over your head, bringing your arms through the sleeves. “Can you make it to the car? I can help you out there.” You giggle as he mumbles a Jesus H. Christ, grabbing your selections and bringing them to the register in record time. 

Eddie’s practically an Olympic sprinter as he drags you to the car. His long legs leave you tripping over your own feet as he tries to rush you along at his speed. Unlocking the car, he holds your shopping bags in the other hand, and wastes no time tossing them in the back seat. He goes to climb in as well, when you tut and shake your head at him.

“Uh uh,” you say. “Front seat, Mr. Munson.” The name was only intended to be a joke, but when you see him react the second time today to addressing him formally, you’re pretty sure you’ve struck gold. 

Eddie quickly slides into the driver’s seat and his fingers fumble over his belt buckle. Cool as a cucumber, you take your time getting in the passenger’s side. Dark brown eyes keep glancing at you when he notices that you’re not undressing.

“Gonna ride me, babe?” he asks. “Cause then you should at least take the jeans off. Kinda hard to fuck you through those.”

“Nope,” you say, popping the “p” sound. “Just start driving.” Eddie looks at you, confusion coloring his face. His jeans are pushed down his hips enough that you can see his cock straining against his green and white boxers. “Just start driving,” you repeat. 

The look of confusion only growing on his face, he does as you say. He places his hand on the back of your headrest and turns his body so he can see out the back window as he begins to back the car out of the parking space. His tongue pokes out of his kissable lips in that adorable way he does when he’s focused on something. Which gives you the perfect opportunity. The car is still moving slow enough that you’re sure Eddie won’t cause a wreck while you lean in and pull his cock out of his boxers. The car comes to an abrupt halt as Eddie stomps on the breaks halfway out of the parking spot. Giggling to yourself because you were prepared for the jolt, you don’t lose focus and you move to hover as best you can over his cock. Letting your spit dribble down on to it, you take Eddie’s long, thick cock in your hand and begin to jerk it just the way he likes.

“Fuck, baby. Am I getting road head?” Eddie asks as he manages to get the car going again. The car picks up speed so you know he must be getting ready to exit the parking lot. The car crawls to a stop—presumably at a stop sign—so you lean forward and give the smallest of kitten licks over the head. “Jesus.”

Smiling to yourself, you lean back in and wrap your lips around the reddened head. Swirling your tongue around, the salty taste of his precum stains your tastebuds. You can hear Eddie’s hands sliding over the leather of the steering wheel, and you’re pretty sure it’s from him gripping it even tighter than he was before. His cock grows even harder in your mouth, and you hollow out your cheeks in a feeble attempt to take him all. 

“Shit,” he breathes out, feeling your fingers grasp at his base. Despite your best efforts, the angle makes it impossible to get all of his length. “Baby, baby, baby, please.” His leg trembles beneath you, and you bring your head up to speak.

“Stay focused on the road, okay?” 

“Easy for you to say,” Eddie grumbles, “you’re not the one getting your dick sucked while trying to drive.”

“Don’t worry, you can suck mine after,” you tease before licking a stripe up his cock. He hisses at the sudden contact. He twitches, signaling that he’s about to finish.

“Can’t–fuck–can’t hold back,” he grunts, bucking his hips up slightly. His foot accidentally presses harder against the gas pedal, propelling him through a red light. You don’t notice that anything’s awry until you hear the sound of a horn blaring just as Eddie starts to come. Thick, hot ropes spurt onto your tongue, and you swallow it just as a police siren whoops loudly.

Eddie groans, using one hand to tuck himself back into his pants. “Baby, sit up,” he nudges you. “Act normal.” Act like you didn’t just have my dick in your mouth, he wants to say, but he keeps it to himself.

“Wh-What’s going on?” you ask, grimacing as you take note of him starting to pull over, the sheriff’s car trailing right behind the truck. “Eddie, what did you do?”

“Me?” he sputters, combing his fingers through his tousled curls. 

“Well, you’re the one driving,” you point out unhelpfully.

Chief Hopper steps out of the car, mumbling to himself as he makes his way over to your driver’s side door. Eddie rolls down his window, flashing an apologetic grin at the older man.

“For fuck’s sake,” Hopper grumbles. “I’ve been pulling you over since you were sixteen, Munson. And me pulling you over were some of our better interactions.”

“You still haven’t retired?” Eddie asks, raising his eyebrows and a playful smile dancing on his lips. 

“Listen, kid.” Hop places one hand on the roof of the car and bends down to be on the same level as Eddie. That’s when Hopper’s eyes are drawn to you, sitting in the passenger seat. 

“Hi, Chief,” you say, giving him a small wave when all he does is keep looking at you. His eyes dart from you, to Eddie, then back to you. The question “how the fuck do you two know each other?” is basically written across his face in big bold letters. 

“What was all that light running business about, huh?” Hopper finally asks, eyes finding Eddie’s face and staying there.

“I hit the wrong pedal,” Eddie says, dropping his hands into his lap. “My foot must’ve slipped or something. I’m sorry, Hop.” 

Hopper sighs and rubs across his graying, bushy eyebrows. “Any other day I’d slap you with a ticket. But, uh, I’ve actually got something else for you.”

“Yeah?” Eddie asks. “Will send over some more of those specialized dice he found?”

“No,” Hop says, but this time he’s avoiding Eddie’s eyes. “Stay here, I’m going to grab it from my truck.”

“Who’s Will? Oh, is the one you were telling me about from your Hellfire Club? The artistic one out in California?” you ask.

“Yeah, he’s Hop’s stepson.”

When Hopper comes back over to the truck, his shoulders look a little more slumped and he sighs as he fiddles with a Manila envelope in his hands. The older man clears his throat before speaking again. “I was actually headed to your place—or the address I was given for where you’re staying right now.”

“Oh, uh, yeah,” Eddie says, a little confused about the shift in tone coming from Hopper. “I’m staying with my girl here.” Eddie pats your thigh a few times, and when leaves his hand there, you lace your fingers with his. 

Hopper nods his head a few times. “I’m real sorry to have to do this, Eddie.” That shocks Eddie most of all, because in the fifteen plus years that Hop and Eddie have had their run-ins with one another, he’s never heard the police chief say that. Or even so much address him as simply “Eddie” and not “Munson.” As if he’s doing it against his will, Hopper forces himself to extend the arm of the hand that’s holding the envelope. Eddie’s brow furrows as he takes it from him. “You’re, um, being served. The custody documents.”

The color drains from Eddie’s face. Begrudgingly, Eddie takes his hand from yours so he can open the envelope and peer in at the court papers. One of the first things that catches his eye on a form is the name Brittany Munson written in bold lettering. The side of Eddie’s mouth curls up in a sneer as he looks at it. He winces at the painful reminder of their shared last name, their shared life. God, I hope she goes back to her maiden name. Eddie thinks. Fuck her. Fuck her for thinking she can take my kids away from me. Fuck her for thinking they’d even want to be with her at all. Fuck her for all the shit she put me through and is now going to act like the victim. 

“You okay, baby?” 

Your voice breaks him out of his own head. He sniffs as he slides the documents back down and closes the envelope. “M’alright.” All three of you know that’s a lie, though.

“Really wish I’d only given you a ticket,” Hop says, voice full of a grim understanding of Eddie’s circumstance. “If you need anything, you let me know. I may not be able to pull strings with any judges, but I know damn well they’ll take into account what I tell him. And those boys think the world of you. We all know that.”

“Thanks, Hop,” Eddie says, nodding his head at the police chief. 

“You take care. Both of you,” Hop says. You give the older man a wave before he’s headed back to his truck. Slowly, you take the envelope from Eddie and lay it in your lap. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” you ask softly. Eddie shakes his head and wipes his nose on the sleeve of his jacket. 

“Wanna get home, first. Then I’m gonna fucking lose it.” He puts the truck into gear and pulls back on the road. The speedometer shows you going way past the limit, but you don’t think Hop’s going to particularly care right now. 

Eddie barrels into your apartment, throwing the envelope onto the table haphazardly before sinking into the sofa. He covers his face with his hands, but it does nothing to muffle his sobs. 

“Worthless piece of shit!” he cries out, slamming a fist into his knee. “Fuck!”

You sit down next to him, letting your thigh brush against his. “Baby, she’s not gonna take the kids from you.”

Eddie looks up at you with red eyes and a tear-stained face. “Not her,” he shakes his head. “Me. I’m a worthless piece of shit.”

You reach out to rub his back, flinching as he pulls away. “What? No, Eddie, you’re not—”

“I am.” His tone is harsh, angry. “I promised myself I’d do better than my old man. Keep my family together no matter what. And now I’m following in his goddamn footsteps!” He stands up suddenly, pacing around the tiny living room. “All I wanted was a family. Mom, dad, kids all under one roof. House with the white picket fence. And I had it; I finally got it. And then I fuckin’ threw it all away.” 

“Eddie—”

“My boys,” he continues, “those boys are my life. Everything I’ve ever done has been for them. So that they don’t have to struggle like I did.” His gaze meets yours, and he catches the puzzled expression on your face. “What, did you think I was some kinda trust fund baby like Steve?”

“No,” you murmur. “I mean, I knew you didn’t grow up rich or anything…”

Eddie barks out a laugh. “Yeah, that’s the understatement of the century.” He rubs his nose with the palm of his hand; it’s one of his nervous habits. “I didn’t just grow up not rich, baby. I grew up poor. Food stamps, trailer park, deciding whether to pay the electric or water bill poor.” He gnaws on his lower lip. “And living with my uncle Wayne wasn’t by choice. I mean, I love the guy; he’s the reason I’m not a total scumbag, but he took me in so I wouldn’t become a ward of the state.”

You nod patiently. “Do…do you wanna talk about your parents?”

“Not really,” he replies tersely, “but since I’m spilling my guts, why fuckin’ not.” He inhales, trying to control the vitriol that seeps through his pores. “Addicts. Both of them. Wayne claims my mom was clean before she met my dad, but I have my doubts. I mean, you don’t start shackin’ up with a dopehead if you’re trying to stay on the straight and narrow. 

“When I was a kid, my dad was barely around. And if he was, he and my mom were fighting. And not like normal people argue; they’d beat the shit outta each other. I tried to break it up once, when I was six or seven, and my dad threw me to the ground. And when I looked to my mom to help me, you know what she did?”

Your stomach lurches. You know what he’s going to say next, but you can’t seem to brace yourself for the impact. 

“Nothing. She did absolutely fucking nothing, because without him, she wouldn’t know where to get her next fix.” Eddie plops back down to the sofa. “One night, they were so high that they put some TV dinners in the oven and left to get more dope. Completely forgot about the food. And me, I guess. Just up and left without a word. 

“I was in my room, drawing, when I smelled smoke. Came out to find the kitchen on fire.” He shakes his head at the memory. “I ran outta the house and a neighbor called the fire department. When the cops came and saw that a seven-year-old was home alone—not to mention the needles and burnt spoons strewn around the house—they tracked down my folks and arrested them. Dropped me off at Wayne’s that night.”

You can feel your heart breaking with each word he utters. You’ve never experienced what he has, but you try your best to be comforting. “You’re not your parents, Eddie. You’re not an addict, you’re not negligent, you’re a great father.”

But it’s like he can’t even hear you. “That woman you met at the lingerie store? Chrissy?”

“…yeah?”

“You know how I know her?” He crosses his arms over his chest. 

“Did you two date?” you guess, but he just laughs in response. 

“Nah.” He waves off the idea as an impossibility, like he isn’t the most handsome man you’ve ever seen. “She used to buy from me.”

“Buy?”

“Drugs,” he fills in. “I sold drugs in high school to make ends meet. Not the real hard shit like my parents used, but weed and E and K.” His wet brown eyes bore holes through yours. “I saw my parents struggle every goddamn day with addiction, and I still went and sold drugs.”

“You were just trying to survive,” you protest. 

“Yeah, well, I could’ve been a cashier at Melvald’s and survived there,” he rebuts, and you don’t have a response to that. “Brittany was on the cheerleading squad with Chrissy, and she tagged along during a deal. That’s, uh, how we met.”

Brittany obviously isn’t your favorite subject to discuss, but Eddie clearly needs to get this off of his chest, so you nod and wait for him to continue. 

“She was the first girl I ever loved. First girl I’d ever been with.” A tinge of pink creeps across his cheeks. “I thought love was two people who tolerate each other’s flaws. And we never raised a hand to each other, so that was a step up.” The joke falls flat, and he clears his throat awkwardly. “You probably don’t wanna hear about this.”

“‘S’okay,” you murmur, placing your palm over his fingers, which are anxiously toying with the tears in his jeans. 

“No, it’s not.” He stands up suddenly, walking towards your room. “I always fuckin’ do this!”

“Do what?” you ask, trailing behind him. “Babe, what are you talking about?”

“I should go,” he mumbles, shoving his clothes into the duffel bag. “This is…this is a lot, and you don’t need to be wrapped up in my bullshit…”

You grab his hands in your own. “Hey. Look at me.” Your tone is kind but fierce, and it works. You can feel his breathing start to slow to a normal rhythm, rather than the frantic panting he was getting worked up to. “I love you, Eddie. I love everything about you. I get…I get not being proud of your past. But you’re Eddie now. Incredible dad to the sweetest boys, amazing friend, and the best boyfriend in the entire world.”

“You’re just saying that,” he mutters, but you can see the hint of a smile tugging on his lips. 

“I mean every word.”

Eddie blinks back more tears. “I never want Ryan or Luke to do what I did. Never want them to even be in that position.”

“They won’t,” you assure him. “We’re gonna do everything we can to get them in your custody, okay?”

“What if…” his voice catches in his throat. “What if they’re better off with her?”

“Eddie,” you say, a huff of unamused laughter catching you off guard. “Did you hear what you just said? You really think they’d be better with Brittany? Who doesn’t even know the name of their school? Who doesn’t care about them one fraction of the amount that you do?” 

“I know,” Eddie groans, rubbing his hands over his face. The sigh he lets out sounds so tired and worn out. 

“The best place in the world for those boys is with you. I don’t have a single doubt in my mind about that. And deep down, you know it, too.” You rest your hands against his chest and make sure he’s looking you in the eye before you continue. “Everybody who knows you and who knows those boys can advocate that you are who they should be with. That you should get full custody. Who’ll be on Brittany’s side, her sister? The kids have told me she’s crazy, anyway.”

Eddie can’t help but chuckle at that as he nods his head. “Yeah, we never liked her.”

“They belong with you. And tonight, you belong with me. You’re not going anywhere. Okay?”

Releasing a long sigh, Eddie leans forward and rests his forehead against yours. “Okay.” 

“Think of the good things that are happening. You found a new apartment today. That you can decorate however you want. With minimal input from your girlfriend.” You give him a wink to let him know you’re teasing him. “And the boys are going to be so excited to make their rooms look cool. Imagine their little faces when their dad helps them create their dream rooms.

“Oh, and where else did we go today? Wasn’t there this store we went to where you bought something for me?” You tap a finger against your chin, playfully scrunching up your face as if you’re in deep thought. “Ah, that’s right. My boyfriend bought me some sexy lingerie to wear for him. I’m excited. I’ve never worn lingerie for a guy before. I wanna get fucked in it.”

“Believe me, you will,” Eddie says, the small smile growing a little wider on his face. 

“And, hey,” you say, reaching up to cup his tear-stained face in your hands. “You can talk to me about anything, okay? We’re partners now, baby. That’s the deal. Your parents, Brittany, all of it.” You slide your hands from his face to wrap around his neck. “Like, I didn’t know that Brittany was the only girl you’d been with before me. Thought sexy teenage Eddie Munson would’ve had to beat the girls away with a stick. Guitar player? Mmm, how did you not have a line of girls vying for your attention.”

Eddie lets out a bark of self-deprecating laughter. “Oh, sweetheart. You could not be farther from the truth.” 

“Their loss,” you say with a shrug. “How about Chrissy? You ever have a thing for her?”

“Really, babe?” Eddie asks with a chuckle, raising an eyebrow at you. 

“What? I’ll tell you about the very small number of guys that have been in my life before you. Get you all worked up and jealous,” you say with a giggle. “Then put on that babydoll I picked out—that only you ever get to see me in.”

“I may have had a small crush on Chrissy at one time, yes,” Eddie admits, his hands settling on your hips. “She was with this douche Jason who liked to give me shit. They got married, actually. Ha! And just got divorced, she told me in the store this afternoon. Hope she takes all of his clothes and money and shit.”

“She didn’t seem too pleased that I’m your girlfriend,” you say, tilting your head to the side. 

“I don’t give a fuck what she thinks about you being my girlfriend. I don’t give a fuck what anyone thinks about you being my girlfriend. You make me happier than I ever thought I could be.”

“Is it because I gave you road head?” you ask with a smirk.

“Yes,” Eddie says with a laugh. “It’s because you gave me road head. Do you care what people will think about you being my girlfriend?” 

“I do,” you say. “I care about what two wonderful little boys will think about it. I know they like me. I just hope they’ll like me as their daddy’s girlfriend.”

“If they still like you after you made them eat Brussels sprouts that one time, I think it’s safe to say they’ll always adore you.”

“Good. Because I love them,” you say. 

“Now,” Eddie says, pulling your body flush up against his. “About these guys you’ve been with before me…”

Giggling, you roll your eyes at him. “Okay, come on. If we’re having this discussion and subsequent lingerie fuck fest, we better get going so we don’t traumatize Jess too much when she gets home.”

You push Eddie in the direction of your bed before going over to your bedroom door. Peeking out into the living room, you see the Manila envelope with the custody documents still on the table. Closing the door, you officially put it out of your sight. Let it stay there for the night. That can be dealt with tomorrow. Tonight—after a brief period of telling Eddie about your previous trysts—you’re going to make your boyfriend forget everything except for how to scream out your name. 

Climbing on top of him, you trail kisses down his neck, feeling his body relax beneath yours. His hand lays on the small of your back.

“Baby?” His voice is so small that you can barely hear it. “Could we just…would it be okay if I just held you for a bit?”

“Of course.” You slither off of him and onto the bed, resting your head on his chest. He hiccups softly, and you feel a tear drip off of his chin and onto your face. 

“‘M sorry,” he murmurs, sniffling as he tries to stop crying, but you just stretch up and kiss the tears away.

“Don’t apologize,” you tell him, giving his waist a tight squeeze. “I’m not going anywhere. We can stay like this all day if you want.”

He nods, stubble scratching at your forehead. “I love you so fucking much.” He presses his lips to your scalp, intending to hold you to your promise of holding each other forever.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #older!eddie #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson fic #AYW #AYWS

[tarjapearce]

Mi Dulce Cereza (Pt. 8)

Ranchero! Miguel O'Hara x Reader

WARNINGS: Telenovela coded drama towards the end, Not so subtle hints of jealousy, fluff.

Summary: New truths are revealed, while you and Miguel’s bond strengthens.

Previous

Intro:

As the days advanced in Hacienda O'Hara, so did the renovations. He main house, Miguel and your sanctuary, had the windows and water system installed, the floors freshly done and ready to be moped in. There was little details that could be added within the following days.

Such as the stair's handles, and the hot tub in the main bedroom. An initial petition of Miguel that proved to be useful and perfect for you. He knew pregnancy would get more difficult as it grew on you.

Today's day was dedicated to the fencing around the property. A step closer to increase the security, which got him thinking.

Your parents had been quiet enough, and that meant no good. However, his mind focused on the now and how good things had advanced.

He got new contacts through town, a new cattle and horses supplier, some seeds and orchard expert, a veterinary specialized in livestock, a coffee supplier and a security company that would install the cameras once the place was fenced.

Your pregnancy was going great, twelve weeks and counting. The first trimester and a bit more were the most delicate months during the gestation, and you were almost out of danger. Baby bump was prominent enough for people realize your condition.

Many or most women would have a smaller and barely noticeable bump, but it was Miguel’s child you were growing within. He was a big man, so it was obvious for his child to be big and take a bit more of room.

It concerned him you'd have a c section or any sort of complication that would prove Vicky a bit too much for her knowledge. But things were too soon to be flooded with negative thinking.

You were alright, and that's all that he needed to know.

Miguel would often find himself stroking your belly to sleep, smiling in his sleep, happy to witness first hand the miracle of life growing alongside with you. Even though he had no idea of parenting, he knew Victoria would help him and you. Guiding you both towards the ABC's of parenthood.

He'd often fantasized with a girl. He always wanted one, to call her his little princess. He already had a queen. His queen.

The owner of his heart that was unable to sleep if he wasn't around. His one and only that curled in his chest every night and played with his hair if he wasn't feeling good. His beloved and caring wife that always asked him about the favorite part of his day, his meal, his fears to ease them later, and if he was drinking enough water cause you had caught him drinking around six cups of coffee.

His sex drive had taken a better turn, he  felt younger and happier. But there was always a little hair in his soup to ruin his mood.

---

Paco was in charge to measure some of the fence and the height of the cameras.

"No te vayas a caer, hold on tight! " (Watch your fall)

"I've got this, tío! Just gotta measure that post lamp."

"I'm telling you to hold on! you're not gonna reach that-"

Miguel's eyes widened as Paco fell on the floor with a loud thud. His nephew's arm split at the forearm and held tightly by a sobbing and groaning Paco.

"Puta madre, Paco!"

Miguel rushed to him and helped him, the younger man clenched his teeth upon the pained waves that ran deep through his body.

Vicky received them with a horrified gasp. Miguel reprimanded him.

"I told you to listen! Why didn't you listen?!"

"Miguel, cálmate! Yelling him won't resolve anything. He needs a doctor!"

He gave a deep sigh and held his hands up, trying to appease Victoria.

"Joseph!" Miguel called and the young man came.

"Take him to town, go to the doctor."

Joseph nodded but cringed at the way Paco's arm was broken.

You arrived after the initial fight. Miguel told you everything and you squeezed his hands trying to reassure him.

"He didn't listen and look what happened."

"He's young, Miguel. You know how young people is. He'll be fine."

You had to pull him down to kiss his cheek.

"I'll be doing some errands today. Gotta go to the bank to check up some stuff."

"Want me to go with you?"

"Ah don't worry, it's a quick thing. Gotta make sure I've got a separate account from my parents."

He nodded with a little smile.

"Should I send Vicky with you?"

"I appreciate your concern, sweetie but I'll be fine. Can I take the truck with me?"

"Of course. Just wait until Paco returns."

He twirled you and pushed you closer to his chest, his lips delivered kisses ontop of your head, in the meantime Joseph and Paco returned.

And once they did, you left for the bank.

You gotta thank Miguel for the pregnancy glow. Cheeks didn't need any more blush, neither the lips, skin took a day off from breaking out and be radiant as if making you the prettiest pregnant woman in the bank.

Rural life had started to rub on you and your fashion choices, since you now wore a pair of black jeans, leather boots, a tank top and a flannel, and a staple, your own Stetson hat.

As you arrived to the bank, you waited in line, there wasn't much people around, a couple of elderly ladies, and around six people in line. three women including you, and three men.

Knowing that the elder would take their time, you waited in the regular line. A man, a gorgeous looking one waited right behind you. He was tall, fair skinned, well kept beard and someone that overall screamed I breath money.

Yet had decided to await his turn in like like the rest of you. Hazel eyes met with yours before diverting his eyes discretely towards your body.

He smiled at the sight of the plump ass, but his smile faltered upon seeing the golden band around your ring finger and the baby bump that made you look so radiant and beautiful.

Your name was called by the lady in the window. Hazel eyes followed you.

Transaction was completed within some minutes, thankfully way before Miguel showed up in your life you had saved a good chunk of money through the years without your parents knowing, and it had paid off.

You then made a new account with Miguel's last name. A little victory for you. You then went to the customer service section to finish the whole thing.

The same man from before sat a few steps from you.

"Glad to see you're back, Mr. Kravinoff."

He smirked upon your eyes resting on him, studying and taking in his features. Learning his face.

Sergei Kravinoff, owner of the biggest exotic animal collection in town, millionaire, avid hunter and a businessman. He was always up to invest.

You were dispatched at the same time. Boots clicked after him. Jame's words of him being the one that Agustín was sold off to, rang in your head.

"Mr. Kravinoff?" You called and he turned to face you. Even though he was even more handsome up close, your mind was set into getting Agustín back.

You introduced yourself, and his pupils were blown for a second. Hand warm and delicate against his. Touch was just as he had imagined, the picture Rosaura had shown him didn't made you justice.

"Could we have a word?"

He nodded with enthusiasm. He gestured to one of the vacant near tables and sat across you.

"Thanks. I was told that you are familiar with Pastor William's business."

"Yes, I am. Why?"

"I'm aware that you had recently bought a horse from them."

Sergei's eyes widened softly at your words. Gossip sure spread fast. But what truly amused him, was you knowing the punctual details.

Little little town.

"I did, yes." His accent heavy as he leaned on to you.

"I'd like to buy that horse from you."

His mouth gaped softly at your words while blinking.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"I'd like to buy Agustín back from you, Mr. Kravinoff."

The way his name rolled off your tongue sent shivers down his spine.

"Oh? The horse had a name?"

"And an owner. Well, more like someone that rescued him."

"Ah, the friesian horse. May I know who this person was?"

"My husband, sir. Agustín was quite neglected and aggressive, he nearly injured the other horses. But my husband rehabilitated him."

"I see."

"Is... the horse sick?"

"No, I've kept him fed and groomed."

You smiled at his words. It sent a little jolt in his heart. You were married. And were set into buying an expensive horse from him as a gift. He wanted to put your patience and love to test.

"You must understand, Mrs...?"

"O'Hara."

A mental note to search him up later popped in Sergei's mind.

"Right. Mrs. O'Hara, you must understand that a friesian purebred is everything but cheap. I could sell a different and cheaper horse if you wish to-."

"No. I want Agustín."

Your spoiled side was slowly coming out, but it made him smile and his heart to beat at such determination.

"Whoever your husband is, must be a lucky man."

"I'm the lucky one. But, let's talk business."

"Twenty five grand. That's my price. I've had to invest in vitamins, a new trainer and new hooves."

"I see"

"If the price is too much I could-"

"No, no. Its fine. Could you send it over to our estate?"

Sergei chuckled, you didn't back down. In fact, you seemed thrilled. But he'd also have the chance to see what kind of husband you had married, that had you writing him a check for twenty five thousand. You were either too inlove or too spoiled to let that sum of money go without much thought.

"Of course."

You gave him a check, his fingers brushed on yours.

"Thanks." He tucked the check in and you stood. Baby bump in full display on him.

"How far are you?"

"Hm? Uh, I'm twelve weeks now."

"Are you excited?"

"Very."

You nodded with a beam.

"Mrs. O'Hara?"

"Yes?"

"The address. For the delivery."

"Oh! right. Sorry."

You scribbled your address in a piece of paper, his eyes didn't leave you. You were excited, happily married to another man he'd have the experience to meet.

He wanted to see who was the man that had snatched you from him. He'd definitely talk to Rosaura later. He wasn't one to be fooled, nor one to leave with empty hands after being promised something.

"There. Thanks for your time."

"Thanks to you, Mrs. O'Hara. "

He nodded with a smile to then watch you leave.

You were over the moon, your luck was on a hight tab today. Things had been rough back at home, and Miguel had been stressing over the littlest things. And to have the chance of getting Agustín back to make him smile, was a chance you weren't letting escape.

You returned to the estate. Marveling at what you were building alongside Miguel. Susprises didn't sit too well in your mouth cause as soon as you saw Miguel, you hugged him from behind and squealed.

"Mind to share what's gotten you like this?"

"I've got you a surprise."

"Do you?"

"Yes. But you will have to wait until tomorrow."

"Alright."

His arms secured around you. Nose tickled with a foreign smell. A man's cologne. His brows furrowed.

"Have I told you how much I'd love to take you right now? With that hat on?"

Your cheeks flushed deeply as you snorted.

"Like, right now now?"

"Missed you."

"I was gone for just a few hours."

"So? Am I not allowed to miss my wife?"

He carried you in his arms like your weight was nothing. In other times he'd throw you over his shoulder and walk away, but since his child was now growing inside, he was careful while carried you bridal style to your bedroom. Vicky only rolled her eyes with a tired smile.

"There is so much to do still, Miguel!"

"Ya regreso." (I'll be back)

His smile was childish, relaxed, and only you could provoke it.

"You haven't even got one kid yet and are already trying for more."

"You'll love them anyways, Ma."

Miguel mumbled with a chuckle before closing the door. He was set into making that scent to go away from you. The only smell he wanted to feel on you was your perfume, his, your sweat or his. To have another besides those, irked him.

Dinner came in a blur. Mary and Susan helped Vicky, her guard towards her was still up but less obvious. She showed them their duties. Susan would remain in the cleaning and crop area, Mary would help in the kitchen and with the animals feeding. Everyone had their new schedules, as everyone participated in different activities.

"Miss Rosaura always arranged dates for la patrona."

Mary attempted her best into not butchering the word, it was a catchy one. Cerecita was reserved only for Miguel and Vicky.

"But the horses always went crazy and they eventually stopped."

Susan giggled upon remembering the last date your mother made you go through. And how Luis ended up chasing away the man.

"That's sounds like Miguel's doing"

"It was."

You joined the conversation with a impish smile. Hair damp, freshly out the shower, just like Miguel that went to supervise the fence. The foreign smell no longer lingered in you.

"He told me that he had trained the horses to not allow anyone but him to ride them."

Vicky couldn't help but shake her head with a smile.

"Ese muchacho..." (That boy)

"Let's serve up."

You and nauseas had a rocky relationship, sometimes they were good and let you have a normal day, other times they were there to make sure you were annoyed enough to sour your mood, ending up in tears over the dumbest things.

Miguel sometimes was truly at lost on how to calm you or make you feel less uncomfortable. But Vicky always helped him out. Without her he'd be at lost on what to do regarding you.

So far she kept you and his baby healthy, even though thanking her was unavoidable, Vicky batted him away. She was as excited as you both were. Sometimes Miguel would talk through the day with Vicky, looking for names.

Only to end up laughing at the ridiculous names some people named their babies. You on the other hand seemed at ease.

"I wanna know what is it gonna be before breaking my head in looking for names."

You've told him, he couldn't wait to have his baby in his arms. Have his family complete, and his dream fulfilled at last.

Sometimes he felt the train of getting a family left him, the thirties were hard enough since he got people reminding him of getting himself one.

Unlike Gabriel, his mind was to settle down and have something he called his, instead of juggling between deciding or not to settle down. But what to do, Gabriel was still young barely passing the twenty seven. You were a year younger than him.

Your tears however made him snap his attention towards you.

"You okay, mi amor?"

"I can't tie my shoes."

He couldn't help but snort at your words while kissing your forehead.

"Let me help you with that."

He put your boots and laced them up to then kiss you and wipe your eyes.

"Better?"

You nodded in between hiccups.

"Let's get you some food."

Morning wasn't as hectic as it used to be, ever since Susan, Mary and James arrived the work load had been evenly distributed. Mostly to be a bit more lenient on you.

The orchard was flourishing, the first herbs were sprouting, and the cattle was on the weekly checkup.

You went to greet Miguel, and Paco called you to the entrance.

"Miss? There is a man looking for you."

"A man? Oh! Right! Let him in."

Paco looked at Miguel that nodded at him, he was already crossing his arms.

"Cerecita?"

"Yes?" Your smile turned wider upon seeing the horse car, passing through the luxurious car leading the small caravan.

"What did you do?"

You giggled and kissed his cheek.

"Your surprise."

"My... My surprise?"

You nodded and pulled him by the hand towards the car. Sergei stepped out, just as his helpers, eyes scrutinizing the place, it'd make a perfect hidden spot he'd use to get away from everything. His attention focused on you once more. The same cologne his nose detected on you, was now impregnated on him.

But Miguel’s eyes forced his eyes to focus on him. Sergei couldn't hide the surprise on his face, he was tall, but your husband taller, beefier and meaner looking.

And for you to handle him like putty made him chuckle. But what man wouldn't fall under your sweetness? Or at least be tempted enough to fall?

Miguel loomed behind you, like a shadow, hands on both of your shoulders, his golden ring shining a bit too bright for Sergei's likings. But this was not his territory, and the man behind you wouldn't hesitate to put him in his place if needed.

"Mrs. O'Hara."

He greeted with a brief and polite nod, along a smile that didn't set right in Miguel's eyes.

"Mr. Kravinoff."

"Please, call me Sergei."

"Right. This is my husband, Miguel."

The handshake was a terrible display of subtleness between both. Miguel had to give the man credit for squeezing as hard as he was. Eyes locked on eachother for a second, devoid of emotion, even though Sergei understood he wasn't the boss, he didn't let Miguel intimidate him.

"A pleasure to meet you at last, Mr. O'Hara."

Miguel nodded and let his hand go.

"I must say, your wife and her offer took me by surprise. But now, I understand the why."

Sergei smiled, a bit of defeat etched in his face but he quickly turned away and motioned both to follow him. Once more you pulled Miguel closer and guided him to face his surprise.

Sergei's helpers pulled with utmost care the ever familiar horse. The reason why you both had met in the first place. Agustín.

Sergei watched you and Miguel from the shadow the car offered and so far he hadn't find anything that dictated you were unhappy. All the opposite, your moonstruck look over the gigantic man just deepened until it morphed into a dashing beam upon seeing his reaction.

Miguel's expression was something he couldn't compete with. He looked genuinely surprised, and he was unable to resist the urge to kiss you, nearly knocking your hat off your pretty head.

And your laugh at seeing your husband happy, had the millionaire casting his eyes down. He was no match for the man right next to you. Even the horse seemed to like him a bit too much. While Agustín had given him cooperation, he didn't go past that. But with Miguel, there was a bond. A precedent, and it showed as the stallion flared and pawed at the floor as soon as Miguel touched him.

All thanks to you. His wife.

Big arms held you so gently and lovingly as he kissed your temple and your heart was melting. You loved eachother, only fools would think otherwise.

Sergei delivered a little presentation card to you, which Miguel took a peek from.

"Are you satisfied, Mrs. O'Hara?"

"Pretty much. Thanks. Thanks for keeping Agustín in great conditions."

"Any animal that goes under my care is treated with respect. As it should."

You smiled at Sergei's words.

"If it's alright, I'd like to give you something."

His eyes looked at Miguel, asking for permission to grant you something else.

"What is it?"

Miguel spoke. His voice deep and borderline raspy.

"Relax, husband." He chuckled while another horse was pulled away from the carriage. A pinto friesian mare.

"You see, since Agustín came under my wing, he took a like to Nina."

The mare immediately trotted over Agustín's side giving a little neigh.

"Oh, but... I only paid for Agustín, Sergei."

Miguel couldn't help but harden his features over his name and the underlying intentions behind his actions.

"I know. But it's a gift. You see, Agustín had been under alot of stress, new place, new routine, and having him separated from Nina would definitely cause a setback into his progress."

"You seem to know alot about animal behaviors, Mr. Kravinoff."

Miguel's tone wasn't mocking or derisive, a bit jealous perhaps but also curious and cautious.

"I'm a collector, sir. And a hunter. Understanding them must be a must for me. Besides, Nina is foaling."

"I see."

"And also, a potential investor if you're willing."

"Property is not on sale."

"Sorry if my words have offended you, but no. Even though is tempting, I can tell it holds unmeasurable value for you.   I respect that."

You hand rubbed on Miguel's lower back, appeasing his rising temper.

"I'm always for the look in business, cattle and horses are my specialty. I will recommend your training services to my friends, if you allow me."

"That would be great, new contacts are always welcomed."

Your chirped as the mare nuzzled your hand. Joseph and James took the horses to the stable.

Sergei shook hands with you and Miguel, and once he left he cupped your cheeks to give you a breathtaking kiss that had you panting and gasping for air.

"You..."

"Me?"

You giggled and kissed again.

"How... much you paid for Agustín, Cerecita?"

"I won't tell. Just needed to get him back for you."

"It's not that I'm not being grateful, but-"

"I know they're not cheap, Miguel. But I wanted to, ok?"

"Don't splurge your money on me, Mi reina."

"You kidding, right?, I know you aren't that comfortable in me splurging. I know things have changed. But I wanted to."

"I'm not mad, ok? I am not angry, just-"

"What?"

"How come you approached him first?"

You couldn't help but giggle, he frowned even though you kissed his cheek.

"Are you jealous?"

"No"

"You're a terrible liar, Miguel."

You smooched him

"I could smell him on you."

"Ah yeah, his cologne was killing me. Had to retch as soon as I saw a bathroom"

He chuckled and fixed the hat on your head.

"I approached him cause James told us his name, and of course I wouldn't let a chance to get Agustín back go. He's your horse."

"An expensive horse, that is"

"But yours again, completely. It's my wedding gift."

He squeezed you in his arms and showered your face with kisses.

"Canija. No sabes cuanto te amo." (You imp, you don't know how much I love you.)

"I think I do have an idea."

"Let me show you."

Sergei steps were heavy the more he ventured in your parent's home. Rosaura's smile faded upon watching his sour expression.

"You never told me your daughter was already married and pregnant, Mrs. Anderton."

Rosaura's eyes widened in discomfort, unable to hold the lie anymore.

"W-What do you mean. She's-"

"I don't like liars."

"Where did you see her?"

"At the bank. Bought me the horse you sold me."

"That brat."

"Brat?" His brows raised on the term, "I saw nothing but a happy couple back there."

"You went to their home?!"

"Why do I feel you're not giving me a true complete picture of what is going on?"

"Sergei, son. Look. That man she is married to used to work here. He was the stable boy. He seduced my daughter and stole her away from-"

Sergei's hand halted her from speaking further.

"I think I will do business elsewhere, Mrs. Anderton. I like my business partners to be sincere in all sense of the word."

"Just give me time, Sergei , I promise to bring her back-"

"It's Mr. Kravinoff for you, madam. And my decision is final. Will communicate with your husband later. Have a good day."

Despite Rosaura's protest, Sergei left. Leaving a fuming and fearful mother behind. She was in trouble with Pastor William. Business were to not messed up, yet she had. Their best client gone.

But you, oh how you infuriated her and made her blood boil.

You had splurged on Miguel. A man you had called your husband. A man that belonged to a family that forced hers to move out from their rightful home a long time ago back in the outskirts of Nueva York.

A family that had stripped her from everything she held dear. Everything under the influence of George O'Hara.

And now his step son had taken you away.

If George was no longer alive to withstand her revenge, someone had to pay. And she decided that Miguel would.

He would pay for the sins of his father. Whether he like it or not.

#miguel o'hara #t writes✨ #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #atsv miguel #miguel o'hara fluff #Ranchero! Miguel #miguel spiderman #spider man 2099 x reader #spiderman 2099 fanfiction #Mi Dulce Cereza #Ranch girl! reader #Spotify

[darkest-depravity]

Two Forms of Desperation

I'd love to keep you in a chastity cage for weeks, and tease you every single day. You're a kept woman, of course, but that doesn't mean the teasing needs to stop when I go to work. I'll leave you with a remote vibe inside your cage and a plug in your ass and steadily edge you all day, every day. You'd better not fucking fall behind on your housework because of this. But you're such a good girl, and I know that you fear me even more than you want me, so you don't.

I'll watch you deteriorate as a human being. Watch you debase yourself, so frantically desperate for any kind of release. Watch you devolve into wrenching sobs as you cling to my feet, not daring to glance up at me for fear of meeting my cold eyes, indifferent to your suffering.

Then, one day, you're doing dishes. Your whole face feels puffy and tight from crying, but still, the tears flow down your cheeks as the pain in your cage remains unbearable. You look so broken. That's when I decide to take you. I grab a fistful of your hair and drag you to the living room, throwing your body to the ground and your face into the carpet. You feel an overwhelming surge of relief as I unlock the cage, and all you can do is whimper, "Thank you, Goddess" over and over in a frail, choked little voice. I don't start slow. I fuck you harder than I've ever fucked you before. I keep the vibe on you and turn up the intensity to its maximum. The effect is instantaneous. The most incredible orgasm you've ever experienced in your worthless little life and fresh tears of joy stream down your face as you're completely overcome with pleasure the likes of which you never could have even imagined.

But then I don't stop. I slow down and lower the vibration just enough for your body to recover between orgasms, then ramp it up to maximum again. Over and over, shuddering tidal waves of pleasure burst through your entire being. Your body convulses and you feel like every single one of your muscles is spasming out of control. It's too much. It's too much. Soon, each wave begins to decline in pleasure and the sensation shifts to pain. It hurts now. Every thrust sends a stabbing pain through your body, and every orgasm depletes you more and more of energy you didn't even think you had left. You beg me to stop. I ignore you. You scream and wail and cry and beg and feel as though your body is being torn apart. All of your senses seem to blacken and some instinct drives you to get away, to please make it stop, but I'm just so much stronger than you and I've already left you so weak. I hold you down and push your face into the floor, then fuck you even harder. Somewhere in the only minute rational corner of your mind you have left, you wonder how I could possibly be fucking you harder than I was before.

This goes on for what feels like hours. What began as heaven has twisted into hell. Eventually, your screaming ceases and you become silent, accepting the piercing pain that rips through your body with each thrust. This is what penetration feels like. You forget who you are. You become an unthinking husk.

Finally, I stop.

I collapse on the floor next to you, pulling your small, violently trembling body into mine, and kiss your neck so softly. I stroke your nipples and caress every inch of your round softness so gently. I tell you over and over how perfect you are, how wonderfully you did, and how much I love you. I know you're not strong enough to stand, so I lift you up in a bridal carry and take you to the bed. I make you drink water and I cook you your favorite meal. We watch one of your comfort movies as you melt into my arms and freshly sob. I coo reassurances and stroke your hair, and you cling to me so tight that your knuckles turn pale. Finally, mercifully, the emotion slowly subsides and you drift off into the heaviest and most restful sleep you've ever had.

When you wake up the next morning, you find two things: a plate of breakfast and a hot cup of coffee on the nightstand made just how you like it, and the chastity belt locked around your waist.

#lesbian dom #bd/sm slave #degredation kink #humiliation kink #bd/sm dom #rough cnc #lesbian cnc #cnc free use #cnc k!nk #cnc cw #denial kink #overstimulation kink #use me use me use me #bd/sm relationship #lesbian bd/sm #lesbian nsft

[uhohdad]

Just thinking about how Konig would be so helpful around the house.

I just know his love language is acts of service, he’d never let you get your hands dirty.

Your car needs work? Don’t even think about taking it to a shop because he’s got it. He’ll come in after all sweaty and covered in oil and you’d get the urge to repay your mechanic. 😏

If anything breaks in the house don’t worry, he’s on it. He’s got all the tools he needs, always a prepared man. The roof starts leaking? No problem. Water heater explodes? New one installed same day. A/C blows a fuse? You won’t be hot for long, liebe. Very Sam from Holes vibes “I can fix that, ja?”

In the winter months he’ll put your favorite blanket in the dryer with the rest of your laundry, and in between folding he’ll visit you with the warmed blanket and wrap you up in it 🥹

In the summer months he mows the lawn with his shirt off, muscles glistening with sweat while he works under the hot sun. You always offer to just pay the kid down the street to do it, but Konig insists.

He’s also in charge of dusting because he’s the only one tall enough to reach the top of your bookshelves

Mmm Konig watering the house plants.

Konig being a king of the kitchen too? He’s constantly offering to feed you, he’d never let you go hungry. very Italian grandmother vibes. loves to make you some of his favorite meals from home. even has an apron that barely covers his massive torso.

Konig bringing you cups of coffee/tea on rainy lazy days. 💕

#konig #konig cod #konig call of duty #könig #könig cod #konig mw2 #mw2 #call of duty #x reader #konig x reader #reader x konig #modern warefare 2 #modern warefare ii #uhohwriting

[hiding-in-my-blanket-fort]

Some fluffy, fluffy thoughts for Captain John Price and Reader (gender neutral and SFW):

John is comfort personified.

He loves spending a night in with you, lounging in the backyard with a bottle of wine or tea after dinner. As the night gets chillier, he will spread his arm out to you and beckon you closer.

He’s sitting there looking so comfortable and laidback. Sprawled lazily in a lounger, knees spread wide (this is Barry Sloane’s fault, he always sits like a whore and it gives me problems 😩). Maybe he’ll slowly puff away on a cigar, too.

You can’t resist curling up into his side and he’ll drape a blanket over both of you. Absolutely will manhandle you closer, tucking you under his chin. Draping an arm around you, heavy and warm.

It’s like cuddling a teddy bear. He’s big and comfy and he runs HOT. Blanket won’t be needed in five minutes flat.

He’ll nuzzle against your cheek with little kisses and a deep, contented hum and probably murmurs how much he loves you.

In the morning, since he’s usually awake before you are, he’ll bring you a cup of your favorite morning beverage (tea, coffee, etc), and leave it on the bedside table as he rubs your back and softly speaks to you until you wake up.

Did I mention bathtime intimacy???

Because John is a champion at this. Taking a bath with you, lazily cuddling in the warm, soapy water.

Kisses your bare shoulders and washes your back. His hands roam every inch of you with appreciative little noises. LOVES to wash your hair, massaging your scalp, fingercombing out any tangles.

He’s very, very thorough when it comes to rubbing your lotion in. Moments like this are his sanctuary.

After working in a high stress, high danger job, where he’s tense, alert, and on edge, making impossible split second decisions, John really loves to take his time with you. Savoring the feel of your skin beneath his hands. He’s not necessarily leading to sex. He just wants time with you - his favorite human being - in a way that doesn’t involve analyzing threats.

AMAZING cook, especially when it comes to comfort meals. Mac and cheese? His secret recipe is THE BEST you’ve ever had. Flavors are warm, full, hearty, and his meals always leave you feeling sleepy and cozy.

When the two of you are out in public, John has a hand on you in some way at all times.

At dinner? He has his hand resting on your thigh under the table.

In the car? He’s playing with your fingers like a fidget toy.

Most of the time, he’s not aware he’s doing this. It comforts him to be in contact with you, especially when he’s finally home after a long mission.

BIG SPOON.

He loves to completely envelop you. Wrap you up in his arms with his face buried in your neck and he won’t let you go all night long.

On a few rare occasions, you’ve managed to turn John into the little spoon when you wanted someone solid to cling to. Maybe you were just feeling randomly lonely or had a bad day, but it felt good to hug him like a pillow.

He’s very proud when you hug him from behind. It makes him feel like a shield - like he can protect you from the world and cuddle you at the same time. It’s a win-win.

Masterlist

#cod #cod imagines #john price #john price imagines #john price x reader #writing tag

[workwithmeman]

Pairing - Mountain x Phantom, 1.4k words, mature/explicit

Tags: body worship, phantummy, phantom being a little shit, mountain being desperate, mountain finishing in like 9 seconds oops, first time writing smut sorry, not beta read

Mountain was going to lose his fucking mind.

He knew Phantom had always been pretty - from the moment he had tumbled out of the summoning circle, he was all pouty lips, angled face, and doe eyes. A little gangly and underfed, sure, but nothing that a little love and home cooked meals couldn’t fix. And he was sweet - Lord Below was he sweet. An adorable nativity paired with a penchant to please that drove Mountain insane with a need to fawn, dote on, and love the little ghoul. 

But now that they had gotten back from tour, things had only gotten worse for Mountain. Without the constant exercise of tour and the increase in lovingly prepared rich comfort foods of winter, Phantom had started to grow a little soft around the edges. What once was all prominent bones and sharp edges became gently curvy and cherubic, with softer thighs and arms and an ass that Mountain would love to bury his face in. 

But the kicker, the absolute killing blow to Mountain’s sanity, was Phantom’s fucking tummy. As he had softened, a little bit of that fat had migrated to his chest and stomach, creating the most adorable little pooch that Mountain wanted to kiss, lick, suck - anything that Phantom would allow him to. 

Sweet Satan, he was screwed. 

—-

Mountain’s day started like normal, with him gently untangling himself from Phantom’s death grip on his body and shuffling to the kitchen to make a cup of tea. In the kitchen he found Dewdrop, holding a scalding cup of coffee and heating up the water for Mountain. He offered Mountain a sleepy smile.

“Hey big guy. Sleep alright?”

Mountain grunted in response, holding his cup out to Dew wordlessly.

“Understood,” Dew chuckled, pouring hot water in to Mountain’s teacup. “Phantom keep you up last night?”

“You could say that. Little bug is driving me crazy.” Mountain gently blew on his tea.

“Oh? What did he do now?” Dew leaned back against the counter, sipping his coffee. “More video games? Another documentary?”

“Satan, I wish. It’s just fucking him, Dew, I’m losing my mind. I just want to hold him and never let go.”

Dew laughed again. “Wow Mount, never thought I’d see the day someone made an honest woman out of you. It’s a good look.”

“Who’s making an honest woman out of Mountain?” Phantom’s sleepy voice called from down the hall. “I want to help.”

As Phantom appeared in the doorway, Mountain’s mouth went completely dry. In his bat boxer briefs and bat wing hoodie, Phantom looked good enough to eat. Mountain wanted to mark him, claim him, fuck him, break him, and then put him back together again. He wanted to grab him and steal him back to their room and spend hours eating the poor boy out until he cried. Fuck. Mountain needed to get his shit together. 

“Oh, um, hi bug. H-how did you sleep?” Mountain stammered. Phantom chuckled and walked over to him, tucking himself against Mountain’s chest and kicking up a gentle purr. 

“Like a rock. Your cuddles and your tea always make me go out like a light.” Phantom nuzzled against Mountain’s neck before pulling away to the cabinet where the tea was kept. 

As he stood on his tiptoes to reach his favorite box of tea, his hoodie rode up a little, revealing a sliver of dark purple belly, just sticking out a bit over his boxers. Mountain looked up from his sip of tea, only to spit it out all over Dew, coughing heavily.

“What the fuck, Mount, are you trying to infect me with your earth ghoul cooties? Fuck off with that shit,” Dew yelped. He looked down at himself, now covered with a healthy spray of earl grey. “Ah, shit. Now I have to change my fucking shirt.”

Dew walked out of the kitchen past a sheepish Mountain and a bewildered Phantom, yanking off his shirt as he went. 

“You alright there, Mounty? Everything OK?” Phantoms big purple eyes stared up at him, taking his breath away.

Mountain flushed up to his horns. “U-uh yeah, bug. Just choked a little bit. Sorry if I scared you.” Phantom rolled his eyes.

“Just glad you’re not dying, you big dummy. I love you too much to watch you choke to death on leaf water.”

Mountain smiled, tugging Phantom back into his chest. “I love you too, bug. I love you too.”

——

As their day progressed, Mountain slowly became more sure that Phantom was intentionally trying to drive him insane. The way he’d slowly bend over a laundry basket in front of Mountain and turn around and smile teasingly, the way he’d lift his sweater up over his head and make sure his t-shirt was stuck to it, the way he’d brush up against Mountain when they were working side by side. Mountain was ready to grab the little quint by the scruff of his neck and drag him back to their room to not be seen for at least a few days.

It all came to a head at movie night. The ghouls were all gathered in the common room watching some movie Dew and Aether liked, something with bombs and explosions and good special effects. Something Mountain could ignore for something sweeter. Namely, his lapful of quintessence ghoul.

Phantom was lounging against the earth ghoul’s torso, sitting between his legs. Every few minutes he’d shift ever so slightly, pressing back directly into Mountain’s dick. He stretched backwards, bringing his arms around Mountain’s shoulders and allowing his shirt to ride up as he nuzzled into Mountain’s neck.

Come on Mounty, hold me. I’m so cold. 

Mountain could hear Phantom’s voice echoing around his brain.

I know you’ve been staring. Come on, wrap those big arms around me. I can feel you, I can feel you’re hard. I know you want me, Mounty.

Mountain growled slightly into Phantom’s neck.

Don’t start something you can’t finish, little bug. I hope you know what you’re doing.

Phantom only chirped and ground harder back into the earth ghoul. He brought his mouth right up to Mountain’s ear.

“Please, Mounty. Take me back to our room, come on.”

Mountain growled, picking Phantom up and throwing him over his shoulder as Phantom squealed happily. As they walked out of the common room, a there were a few chuckles and groans from various members of the pack, but they mostly ignored the scene happening in front of them. 

Once they reached their shared room, Mountain tossed Phantom into the nest, yanking his shirt over his head. 

“You fucking tease. Whatever am I to do with you?” He crawled forwards, caging Phantom in on all sides. “Hope you don’t like this shirt too much, bug. You’re not getting it back.” 

In one swift motion, Mountain slashed the center of Phantom’s shirt open, revealing his delicate, plush purple skin. Mountain immediately latched onto Phantom’s neck, kissing, sucking and licking his way down the quint’s body until he reached his tummy. 

“Fucking harassing me all day, showing this cute little tummy off when you know I can’t handle it. Fucking drives me insane, bug, madness how gorgeous you are. Could stare for hours and never have enough.”

Phantom whined, squirming against the sheets. “Then why don’t yo-hah-do something more than just stare? Please Mounty, I need it. Touch me, please.”

“Oh princess, you’ve had more than enough touches for today. You always get what you want, hmm? It’s time for me to get something back.”

Mountain straddled Phantom’s calf, slowly starting to grind as he shoved his face back into his soft purple tummy.

“Fuck, bug, you’re perfect. Love how soft you are, how soft you’ve gotten. Love that you’re so strong now, so pretty. Such a pretty ghoul.” Mountain gasped, staring to hump Phantom’s leg more aggressively. He brought a hand down to Phantom’s straining cock, slowly beginning to jerk it. 

“You drive me crazy, baby, your cute little ass and your fucking thighs, love, wanna cover em with my marks. Wanna make sure everyone knows you’re mine. Wanna - ah! Wanna mate you, mark you, show everyone how much I fucking love you, need you, want you, ah-!”

Mountain finishes with a cry, spilling all over Phantom’s leg. Phantom follows shortly after, enamored with the scene of the earth ghoul falling apart. They lay together, panting, for a minute until Mountain crawls up Phantom’s body to kiss him. A comfortable silence falls over the pair.

“H-hey Mounty? Did you mean what you said? Do you want to be my mate?” Phantom asked nervously, tilting his chin up to look in to the earth ghouls eyes.

“With my whole heart, body, and soul, bug. If you want, whenever you want, wherever you want, I’m yours.”

#the band ghost #phantom ghoul #aeon ghoul #ghost ghouls #dewdrop ghoul #mountain ghoul #aeon x mountain #phantom x mountain #nameless ghouls #estel writes #uhhh ghoul smutish ig

[nohoney]

bae now you're LEGALLY required to write something about c&c touya and reader taking care of their newborn. my heart ACHES

legally required you say (￢‿￢ )

Touya remembers the days of rolling out of bed from being out late at night, his body still exhausted and his head pounding with a hangover, needing more sleep, needing food in his stomach, and needing coffee and a smoke after a tiring night.

He’d go out to the balcony, light up a cigarette and inhale nicotine in between sips warm coffee.

The pairing he still believes is the best and can’t be topped.

He still drinks coffee but he’s given up the smoking, and instead of looking out at the balcony, now he looks out into the small backyard of the house you and him bought together. His body is exhausted after the long nights he’s had, but instead of being disgruntled by it, Touya holds no resentment.

Not with his newborn son being the reason why he’s tired.

“What���s with the face? You grumpy, hm? Got a bad attitude in the morning just like your mum?” Touya speaks to his son in his arms, fascinated with how his baby looks so curious but sometimes scrunching his little face like he doesn’t understand something. “Or maybe you’re making that face because you want her instead?”

Speaking of which, you shuffle out into the living room, pulling your arms through a cardigan and stifling a yawn. “There’s my boys,” you announce with a tired smile, “whatcha doing?”

“Nothing much, I was talking to him about his face. He was looking kinda pissed for a little.” Touya walks away from the sliding doors, carefully transferring his son into your arms and helping you sit down on the couch. His son makes a squirmy little sound but recognizes that he’s with his mother, turning his head when you coo over him.

It makes Touya feel sappy to see this before him, but he knows that once there’s crying or a soiled nappy, the feeling will momentarily leave until the baby is all settled.

“Gonna brew some coffee. You want your tea?” Touya offers and is given a little affirming hum from you, “You want breakfast too?”

“Yeah, I’m hungry.”

There’s been very little energy to cook since bringing the baby home. Touya remembers the second day wanting to make eggs but his body was too exhausted from staying up with you as you breastfed your baby in the early hours of the morning and then falling asleep when his son was full. Your mom was right to suggest prepping meals ahead of time and freezing them.

While the coffee brews, Touya is warming a frozen meal into a pot. He smells the coffee in the air and he sighs a little wistfully; he misses the cigarettes. Not even the little vape that he used as a substitute was touched after you reached your third trimester. The routine of stepping outside for a smoke was dearly missed.

He’s got your favorite mug filled with hot tea as he approaches you in the living room, only to find you sniffling and weeping a little. He was told that baby blues are normal and has been keeping vigilant whenever you have these moments.

“Doll? What’s wrong?” He asks you gently, putting the cup on a coaster first. Three days after bringing the baby home, you had burst into tears when Touya had put your cup of water down on the coffee table without a coaster, unreasonably lamenting about water rings on the wood.

You wipe at your tears and sniffle first, letting out an embarrassed laugh before telling him, “I don’t know. I told you I was hungry and then all of a sudden I felt like I wasn’t hungry, but I could already hear you warming up the food in the kitchen. And then I just started spiraling about how I was wasting your time making breakfast that I’m not even sure I wanted anymore.”

He leans over to kiss your forehead, murmuring that it’s okay but most like you are hungry and that he’ll take the baby so that you could eat in peace.

By the time you’re finished eating, you do feel better and your son starts getting a little squirmy to indicate that it’s his turn. You make yourself comfortable in the armchair and unfasten the strap to your top, sighing when your son latches at your nipple and talking softly as he’s fed. “Hey, no nodding off just yet. Gotta make sure your tummy’s full so that you can sleep.”

It’s been about nine days since the baby has been home, and it almost feels surreal to Touya that almost every conversation you and him have had together centers around the baby boy. Talking about things like the little hairs on his head, how he blinks, the way he seems to recognize Touya’s music when it’s played, and having whole conversations about what’s considered normal inside of a nappy. When your sister and her husband spoke of their own daughter when she was a newborn, Touya couldn’t really understand the fascination that they had.

Now he gets it.

#dabi x reader #todoroki touya x reader #dabi fluff

[kalims]

‎˃ ᵕ ˂ . . "I hope you know that the things I do for you are all in the name of love."

simple acts of love,

guess what I found DEEP, DEEP in my drafts.

characters. dorm leaders

includes. gn reader.

cw. short scenarios, bruh this was literally so deep like i was still rosestadt when I made this.. not proofread or changed at all since I made it.

note. no use of any names, only titles to fit in more with the gender neutral theme, since I know some people may know yn or name as an entirely different character.

riddle rosehearts — making their favorite kind of tea / coffee.

a clink makes riddle tear his eyes away from the history book he was previously skimming over. the action of his jaw chewing immediately ceased at the sound, leaving the taste of his favorite tart lingering inside his mouth.

dessert. it was always his favorite part of a meal, even if he didn't have much freedom to actually consume them in his childhood.

riddle finds himself looking at the prefect of ramshackle wearing a calm expression on their face, they present a relaxed exterior—and in their hand, is a cup of steaming, hot, lemon tea.

"prefect, what's this?" he blinks, slowly, and innocently. riddle leans over to let the aroma of the tea enter his senses. and when he does, there's only two cubes floating around the liquid.

and then there's a realization. "wait.. this is.." #339 your after-meal tea must be lemon tea with 2 sugar cubes.

you smile. "for you. your after meal tea should be lemon tea, right?" there's a moment of silence that ensures, before riddle answers slowly.

"ah... yes, I'm suprised you remember." he clears his throat. gladly lifting the cup up with the use of his fingers, and of course. leaving his pinky sticking out, it's the only proper way to drink tea after all.

the laugh that you release makes his face a little warmer, he isn't sure if it's because of you or the hot gas the tea emits. "well.. I don't really remember all the rules, I just happened to remember you mentioning it. that's all."

riddle presses his lips together. gripping the handle a little tighter. you were actually listening to him? what a joy, you should have been sorted to heartslabyul! he must make an appeal to crowley after this. "hm.. this is most appreciated, thank you prefect."

but for now..

you walk around the table until you're near enough to be able to lean and see what he's reading. "what are you reading?"

his answer is immediate. "I'm going over topics for the upcoming exam—" riddle pauses, and looks over at you. "—would you like to join me?

ㅤ

leona kingscholar — covering them with a blanket whenever alseep.

"ah.. he fell asleep again." you mumbled, trailing off for a second to admire leona's features. he probably was a pretty popular guy back in his home if he wasn't scowling so much.

you wrack your mind for the item you've misplaced. didn't you leave the blanket folded on the bed? you wonder. carefully sliding off the sleeping lion's head off your lap and into the couch, watching him grumble and stir.

please don't wake up.. you internally pray. sighing in relief when you finally slip away without disturbing his slumber. (which you'd like to differ.)

after making sure your legs weren't as numb as before, courtesy of leona laying on it for hours. only letting you leave when you needed to pee, trying to tell you to hold it in so he can 'sleep better.'

you peer inside your bedroom and marvel at the horrible generosity crowley gave you, you aren't really in the position to complain since you'd be homeless if it weren't for him. but now you wonder if leona would let that even happen.

the door would probably fly off its hinges if you pulled any harder, a few cobwebs around the corners you couldn't reach and there's rust forming around the metal surfaces of the room. barely noticeable but if you come closer it's definitely there, the room looks relatively okay compared to the other rooms of ramshackle.

you quickly grab the blanket atop your bed, snuggling closer to the cloth gently tickling your face. it's soft and comfortable, perfect for a nap.

leona's sleeping figure comes to view after passing by a few rooms, ramshackle was bigger than you'd thought when you first gazed upon it from the outside. his position still stayed the same as it did the last time you saw him a few minutes ago, probably too tired to even move.

creeping closer to the unsuspecting man, you switch off the lights. humming softly at the way the darkness wrapped around you like a veil, casting a soft atmosphere across the room. and then finally, draping the blanket across his body, stretching it all the way just below his ankles. since you knew he didn't like both of his feet absorbed in the whole thing cause it might get too hot.

in fact he didn't bother with blankets much so you figured that you'd bring him one anyway from how cold it was in the winter. even when there's a fireplace just a few distances from you, the frost still somehow paves its way.

winter in this world was kind of a hassle since you had to shovel your way through patches of snow unless you wanted to get stuck inside the building. you found out the hard way after you got buried in a mountain of snow after opening the front door.

you sigh and shake your head, scratching your head from the memory. as you stand up you're suddenly bounding towards the couch at an alarming speed, so fast that everything actually blurred.

you took a few moments to register that you're laying down, cocooned in leona's arms. his breath tickles your neck as he nuzzles further in, providing you with the warmth to finally relax.

as some kind of bonus you aren't sure he's even aware of; his tail, usually swaying comfortably behind him is now wrapped around your leg as some kind of unconscious affection.

how do you get out of this? well it seems like he was aware and read your mind. "you don't."

ㅤ

azul ashengrotto — popping into each other's zoom calls.

monstro lounge is pretty chilly. you think, he was pretty picky about his circumstances. you slide a finger over a surface and finding not a single dirt in it. but its expected when he's a merman.

you look up. marveling at the various fishes swimming around the ocean, of course. taking a second to admire the many coral reefs, all different in shape and color.

the lounge was pretty quiet. given when it's so early, the only reason you're only actually in here in the first place. was because you'd fallen asleep, waking up in azul's bed. the man himself sleeping on his side of the bed, leaving a big space between the two of you as if he was nervous to be in the same space as you.

leaving out the sounds of water flowing. there's also the eery laughter of two twin eels, that signals nothing good is ever gonna come out of it. and of course:

azul's voice, loud but oozing with easy confidence. which you're not even sure if it actually is after the whole overblot thing.

you curiously stare at the hall where you know leads to his room. if you focus you could hear.. "headmaster, with all due respect...." and then you bleurgh, is he talking to crowley? well it wasn't your business anyways..

so you let the intrusive thoughts win as you creep closer to the door of his room, there's a small opening as if it was begging for you to peek through, and you do.

you see azul seated on his chair, wearing his dorm uniform when it isn't even a school day as he talks actively to his monitor, and on his screen is a layout of all the dorm leaders you've come to know.

riddle is nodding attentively, speaking when necessary. leona is laid down on his bed, looking just about ready to drift off. kalim is showing the camera a bright smile as jalim urges him to listen in the backround.

vil looks like he's looking at himself in the camera more despite looking at the screen. idia's camera, of course being off. and malleus not even being present.. he probably got excluded in the invitation as usual, but you aren't even sure if he owns a phone, much well know how to use it.

crowley is also there but whatever.

you quietly slide inside. hastily passing behind him, praying you didn't appear. the meeting does go on, until kalim speaks. "wahh!! was that the prefect?"

azul blinks and turns in confusion. counting in his head that all prefect were in the call. when he sees you, his mind just blanks for a second so he just dumbly stares.

you wave awkwardly. "hi.." kalim returns the favor tenfold. "hi prefect!!"

"what's the prefect doing there so early?" riddle's voice fades into the room and azul forgot how to lie for a few seconds.

"hm? oh ah... well.."

somehow the dorm meeting whose main topic was originally planned to be for school. ended up with you being the topic.

ㅤ

kalim al asim — running to them, picking them up, and spinning them in a circle.

in a hallway, kalim can be seen walking. there's a content smile on his face, a little duller than his usual bright one but a smile regardless. all in vicinity of the boy openly stare at his obvious upset mood.

there wasn't a jamil in sight which is strange since the classes of second years usually end at the same time, unless one of the professors had something to say.

ah... what do I do? I haven't received a letter from my family as usual.. kalim sighs solemnly, his shoulders further drooping. just the thought of his siblings makes him a little lonely.

if jamil was here he'd probably say. "kalim. you received a letter from your family three days ago." ah, he could almost hear his voice!

your head pops out from a pillar, grim following right after and as if some kind of butterfly effect, ace and deuce's heads pop up a second later. you all whisper vigorously.

"that's dorm leader kalim.. he looks upset!" deuce mumbles. ace just rolls his eyes and snorts. "yeah? way to point out the obvious genius."

they start bickering.

"why are we here? there's a lotta' food in the cafeteria and we're missing out.." grim says, then he looks at the pair. "oi! you two, you're gonna expose us!"

grim joins the bickering and you facepalm. it's a wonder kalim doesn't notice the chaos a few distances away from him..

you beam. "guys! I have an idea!" at your statement they both pause and look at you skeptically. "what?"

"sorry not sorry to say this but your ideas aren't exactly the best."

"who saved us from that one time in the mines?"

you join the bickering for a few.

that's how you ended up sprinting across the halls at a speed you didn't know you possessed. eyes locked in on the turban wearing man, kalim continues to trudge towards his next class unknowing of the chaos as usual.

"kalim!" the boy stops and turns around in confusion. nonetheless there's still a freindly look on his face, which soon turns into more confusion when he spots you making a beeline for him.

the next second he feels you collide into him, the air is knocked out of his lungs briefly and he feels himself hoisted up in the air and spun around while being hyper aware of your close, discret snuggling.

when his feet touch the ground there's an obvious lift to his mood. "that was fun!! let's do it again!!"

"wait I haven't worked out muc--"

you're both on the ground now.

ㅤ

vil schoenheit — doing your makeup together.

there was always a saying. beauty is pain and you wholeheartedly believed it when you witnessed the whole backstory to vil's overblot. but now..

now you start to regret believing it because why does your brows even need to be perfect!? you side eye the mirror. it looks perfectly fine!

in his fingers lay a tweezer, and in between the tweezer is the sacrifice from your brows. "stop jumping around so much, I wouldn't wanna mess this up." vil scolds. choosing to not comment on the fact that you scooted away from him.

"ouch.." you're trying to resist to tear up. immediately scooting away from vil once you feel the awful, stinging pain from your eyebrow. he casts you a half hearted glare.

you narrow your eyes at him. "is this really necessary?" you question seriously. vil raises a brow, somehow making him look more sassy. "there isn't beauty without pain, this is a necessity."

you both stare in silence, neither giving up before he eventually sighs and rolls his eyes. "hmph. fine, we were done with that anyways." vil softens up. giving you a taste of mercy before grabbing a tube of eyeliner and beckoning you to come closer.

you oblige cautiously and place your hands on your lap, sitting idly as the pleasing sensation of the brush is felt ok your eyelids. from your unoccupied eye, you give a moment to admire his concentration.

wow he's.. "beautiful, hmm?" a look of confidence is paired with the air vibrating around vil. you nod mutely, not sure if he's talking about himself.. or you, most probably the first one.

vil stands up and grabs your wrist in a firm, tender grip. he leads you in front of a mirror, wearing a triumphant smile as he admires his work. "now you've grown, potato."

"are you gonna harvest me now?" you joke and his face drops. "...what? no."

idia shroud — bailing them out of awkward social situations with a specially-designed system of code words and hand motions.

anyone has the one time, sight of a lifetime of they catch eye of the ignihyde dorm leader. more looking like wanting no more than to just melt into the wall itself as idia presses himself further to the corner.

his fiery hair shrinks the more the random student—too enthusiastic for his taste, talks animatedly in a way that even he struggles to keep up. usually idia thinks he's good at multitasking since he could read subtitles while taking note of a particular fight scene.

but this was way too hard..

"hello!" idia flinched at the uncharacteristically loud tone you spoke it. the student however, blinks and turns to you with a raised brow. their attitude does a complete 180° but you admit you'd grown used to it.

this is a school for villians after all. they probably didn't want to talk to a nobody like you.

since the student seemed lenient on giving you the lesser treatment you just opted to ignore their existence and look straight into the anxious eyes of idia.

you beam a forced smile. "idia!—" but then the student interrupts you again, with a slight chilling persona. "excuse me. would you mind?" then they turn to him again.

contrary to their previous attitude they switch their personality again..

idia stares right into your soul. a silent plead. help me.

you cringe, hand switching into various hand motions when the student turns their back to you. idia's eyes widen in astonishment and understanding, his flames seemed a bit brighter. if you ignore the slight tinge of pink.

he nods at the student who seems ecstatic by his non-verbal response nonetheless. "i-...um... I have to go attend... a, b-birthday party for the reindeer? " idia mumbles out through clattering teeth.

"huh?"

it seemed like a question rather than an excuse so you started wildly gesturing—the student still unknowing of you. be more confident, relax. "I-I'm going to a birthday party!"

he adds after a long silence. "...for the reindeer!"

now he seemed way too excited.. you facepalm, opting to just leave him alone and gesture for him to take a leap of fate and start running towards you.

the student blinks and suddenly they're the only one alone in the hallway.

"wait... that was the prefect of ramshackle?!" a scream of despair.

ㅤ

malleus draconia — tracing the veins on the insides of their wrists.

his hands are humongous. you muse. absent-mindedly toying with his fingers as you stifle a yawn. malleus hums, using the hand that you weren't occupied with to wipe away the tears that formed after your yawn.

affectionately of course.

but then again. you presume that since he's a dragon and all its expected, given his height was already quite abnormal from the start. up close, he's larger than expected.

it's funny. the literal guy feared by the whole school is letting you toy with his hands..contrary to the rumours he was a pretty nice guy! if you look past his intimidating persona atleast.

but you do get their fear of him. weird as it sounds.. malleus really is quite scary. even worse when he's somehow angry. with his tall exterior, emerald eyes that usually seems so dark, and the horns. it makes him look..

so beautifully dangerous.

you turn malleus' hand. immediately catching eye of the prominent veins, kind of flexing under the weight of your grip. you can feel the thrum of his pulse through your fingers.

"do you feel that?"

"..I believe so?" he looks more entertained than you.

you mumble. "why is it so.. long?" you gingerly rub the vein, you can almost feel malleus vibrate, seemingly pleased.

"because—"

"hUumaaAAANN! WHAT ARE YOU DOING WITH WAKA-SAMA?!"

note. i just saw it when I was cleansing my drafts.. actually say thank you to ellie since they are wholly the reason why it gets published in the first place. again, NOT CHANGED AT ALL since I wrote it months ago

#ㅤ◜◡◝ . . signed ! #twst #twst x reader #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland scenarios #twisted wonderland headcanons #riddle rosehearts x reader #riddle rosehearts #azul ashengrotto #azul ashengrotto x reader #leona kingscholar x reader #leona kingscholar #kalim al asim x reader #kalim al asim #vil schoenheit #vil schoenheit x reader #idia shroud x reader #idia shroud #malleus draconia x reader #malleus draconia #x gn reader #x reader

[girlactionfigure]

Ten Tips for an Easy Yom Kippur Fast

Fasting doesn’t necessarily mean suffering. There’s quite a bit we can do to alleviate the bodily and mental stress that normally accompanies a fast. The day before the fast, follow the following guidelines:

1. Cut down your caffeine intake to minimize headaches. That means stop drinking coffee, tea, and cola at least eight hours before the fast, and preferably twenty-four hours before the fast.

2. Avoid salty, spicey, and fried foods on the day before the fast.

3. Avoid white sugar, white flour, and white rice. Eat whole-grained foods such as brown rice and whole-wheat bread or challa.

4. Drink a lot of water all day long.

5. Eat a good breakfast that includes fruits, veggies, eggs or sardines, and whole grains.

6. The pre-Yom Kippur meal (se’uda mafseket) should include baked or broiled fish, a veggy salad, consomme, a small portion of chicken or turkey, and a side dish of complex carbohydrates. Substitute sweet deserts with watermelon or other water-retaining fresh fruit, and a cup of herb tea with a whole-grain cookie.

On Yom Kippur:

7. The more you immerse yourself in prayer, the less you’ll think about food.

8. Rest between prayers. Don’t run around outside, especially in the hot sun. Save your voice for prayers. Idle talking will make you thirstier, and will detract from the holiness of the day.

After the fast:

9. Drink two glasses of water, and then eat solids gradually, so as not to shock the digestive system. Begin with fruit, like plums or grapes. The worst thing people do is to consume pastries and soft drinks, or “lekach un bronfan” (cake and liquor) right after the fast (these are unhealthy anytime, all the more so right after the fast when they give your body a shock of glucose).

10. Forty-five minutes to an hour afterwards, one can eat a balanced meal with protein, carbohydrates, and vegetables. After eating, relax for an hour with your favorite book (preferably Gemara of the laws of Succoth from Shulchan Oruch) and your favorite beverage, then begin constructing your Succa.

Attention diabetics, heart patients, folks with high blood pressure, and people whose health depends on regular medication - you must be especially careful to ask your doctor if you are capable of fasting, and then consult with your local rabbi, giving him the doctor’s exact opinion. For many such people, it is a mitzva not to fast on Yom Kippur.

#Yom Kippur #Fast #Judaism #Jewish

[fatehbaz]

Americans [...] would sip the rich cocoa as a hot drink. Cocoa made its way to North America on the same ships that transported rum and sugar from the Caribbean and South America [...] and was heavily reliant on the labor of enslaved Africans throughout the diaspora. [...] [B]y the early 1700s, Boston, Newport, New York and Philadelphia were processing cocoa into chocolate to export and to sell domestically. Chocolate was popular in the coffeehouse culture and was processed for sale and consumption by enslaved laborers in the North. Farther south, in Virginia, cocoa was becoming [...] so popular that it is estimated that approximately one-third of Virginia’s elite was consuming cocoa in some form or another. For the wealthy, this treat was sipped multiple times a week; for others it was out of reach. [...]

The art of chocolate-making – roasting beans, grinding pods onto a stone over a small flame – was a labor-intensive task. An enslaved cook would have had to roast the cocoa beans on the open hearth, shell them by hand, grind the nibs on a heated chocolate stone, and then scrape the raw cocoa, add milk or water, cinnamon, nutmeg or vanilla, and serve it piping hot.

---

One of the first chocolatiers in the Colonies was an enslaved cook named Caesar.

Born in 1732, Caesar was the chef at Stratford Hall, the home of the Lees of Virginia, and in his kitchen sat one of only three chocolate stones in the Colony. The other two were located at the governor’s palace and at the Carter family estate, belonging to one of the wealthiest families in Virginia. Caesar was responsible for cooking multiple meals a day for the Lees and any free person who came to visit. [...]

---

The work was oppressive in the plantation kitchens at Christmas time. [...]

[T]hose working in the big house kitchen and as domestic laborers were expected to work around the clock to ensure a perfect holiday for the white family. The biggest task at hand was to cook and serve Christmas dinner, and chocolate was a favorite addition to the three-course formal dinner. [...] Oyster stew, meat pies, roasted pheasant, puddings, roasted suckling pig and Virginia ham are some of the many dishes that would be served in just one course. The night would finish with the sipping of chocolate: toasted, ground and spiced [...] and served in sipping-cups made specifically for drinking chocolate. [...]

---

Decades before the two well-known enslaved chefs, Monticello’s James Hemings and George Washington’s Chef Hercules, [...] Caesar was running one of the Colonies’ most prestigious kitchens inside of Stratford Hall, and making chocolate for the Lees and their guests. [...] [H]is son, Caesar Jr., lived nearby and was the postillion [...].

The stress of cooking the most important dinner of the year was combined with the fear of what was to come on Jan. 1. New Year’s Day was commonly known as heartbreak day, when enslaved folks would be sold to pay off debts or rented out to a different plantation. Jan. 1 represented an impending doom, and the separation of families and loved ones. [...] Caesar disappeared from the records by the end of the 18th century. By 1800, his son Caesar Jr. was still owned by the Lees, but as that year ended, Christmas came and went, and Caesar Jr. was put up for collateral by Henry Lee for payment of his debts.

---

The world Caesar lived in was one fueled by the Columbian Exchange, which was built from enslaved labor [...]: pineapples, Madeira wine, port, champagne, coffee, sugar and cocoa beans. These items traveled from plantation to dining room via the Atlantic trade, and were central to securing the reputation of Virginia’s plantation elite. The more exotic and delicious the food, the more domestic fame one would reap. Having cocoa delivered directly to your home, and having a chocolatier in the kitchen, were exceptional. It was through Caesar’s culinary arts that Stratford Hall became well-known throughout Colonial Virginia as a culinary destination.

---

All text above by: Kelley Fanto Deetz. “Oppression in the kitchen, delight in the dining room: The story of Caesar, an enslaved chef and chocolatier in Colonial Virginia.” The Conversation. 21 December 2020. [Bold emphasis and some paragraph breaks/contractions added by me.]

#abolition #ecology #imperial #colonial

[fandomxpreferences]

In Sickness and In Health

Pairing: Jake “Hangman” Seresin x female!reader

Summary: You’ve got the cold from hell but Jake knows just how to make you feel better. (Based off this request)

TW:mild suggestiveness, mostly just a little sickness and tooth rotting fluff

Word Count:1.1k

A/N: this gif?!?!?! bye. also respectfully, I outdid myself with this one. If this isn't one of my top posts I really don't know wtf is going on

You're laid up on the couch feeling like death himself is calling to you when Jake walks in the door, arms full of grocery bags. He went out to get you medicine along with all your favorite foods and somehow in that timeframe, you managed to get even sicker. 

He looks over at you with soft eyes and goes to set the bags down. He comes back into the room and kisses you on the forehead, eyebrows scrunching together when he feels how warm you are. "I'll be right back." He assures you and all you can muster in response is a groan. 

He's gone for a few minutes and when he comes back, he has a cup of hot chocolate and some pills. "I know you're not a fan of tea, but this will help soothe your throat." He explains gently. "How you feelin', sweet girl?"

You tear your attention away from the re-run playing and do your best to sit up and take the medicine from Jake. "Like I'm knocking on death's door." You whine, your voice thick and nasally. He hums sympathetically and runs his hand through your hair in a soothing motion. 

"What can I do for you?" He asks and you make grabby hands at him while pouting. He chuckles and slips his shirt off before climbing onto the couch with you. He situates himself behind you and you cling to him like he's your lifeline. His arms wrap around you and one of his hands comes up to massage the base of your skull.

You moan and close your eyes. Jake chuckles lightly and looks down at you. "You okay, babygirl?"

You nod your head lightly and try to snuggle in even further. "Feels good." You hum and Jake kisses your temple. 

"When's the last time you ate?" He inquires and you shrug your shoulders. He tsks and shakes his head in disapproval. He moves to stand up slowly, careful not to jostle you around. You're cold all of a sudden and you whimper at the loss of contact.

"You need to eat, darlin'. What can I make you?" It's phrased as a question but you know it's not a suggestion. 

"Nothing sounds good." You say dismissively but Jake doesn't accept that answer. 

"Well, then I'm making all of your favorite foods until you eat something." He says it like it's the simplest solution in the world and it warms your heart. You don't know what you did to deserve such a caring man, but you're not going to question your good fortune. 

"You don't have to do that. I'll eat whatever you make." You tell him, peeking one eye open. 

He nods his head and turns to walk to the kitchen. "I'm holding you to that."

Twenty minutes later, Jake has your favorite food on the coffee table while he sits in front of you. You finished your hot chocolate while he was cooking, and feel a little better as it hits your stomach along with the meds.

Jake gets a bite of your food and brings it toward your face. "Just eat what you can, babygirl. Your body needs sustenance to get better." 

You open your mouth without protest and Jake feeds you. You close your eyes and savor the taste, almost weeping at how good it is. Jake has a smug expression when you look at him again and his eyebrows shoot up. "Good?" 

You roll your eyes and reach forward to take the plate, halfway sitting up in the process. Jake is a phenomenal cook, but the last thing this man needs is a bigger ego. "It's alright." You tease and he gasps, dramatically grabbing his chest. "You wound me."

You laugh lightly at his theatrics and his eyes light up. "There's my girl. I've missed that sound the past couple of days." He means what he says, he doesn't like how quiet the house is without your loud cackling and constant banter. 

You finish eating and feel much better by the end of the meal. Jake takes your plate and you stop him before he can go to the kitchen. "Can you bring me some water? I'm parched."

He turns to look at you and nods his head. "Sure thing, sweets." He says with a wink. 

Once you're done chugging the cold drink, Jake settles back to the way he was before. He kisses your neck lightly and goosebumps break out on your arms, causing him to smirk to himself. "Want to watch a movie?" He murmurs into your shoulder and you nod. 

"Sure. But I get to pick." You quip. He chuckles and leans forward to rest his head on top of yours. "That's a given, darlin'."

You spend a few minutes scrolling before settling on a comfort movie. The two of you cuddle closer together and you look back at Jake. Your hand reaches up to graze along his jaw and he leans into your touch. "Thank you for taking care of me and making me feel better."

He turns his head to kiss your palm and you smile. "What kind of husband would I be if I didn't take care of you? In sickness and health, right? I'm always going to do whatever I can to help you, no ask is too big."

You pucker your lips and bring a finger up to make a face as if you're deep in thought. "Well in that case," You start and Jake jokingly groans. "Oh god what have I just opened myself up to?" 

You slap his shoulder lightly before continuing. "Can you give me a massage?"

You barely finish the sentence before Jake is jumping up like a kid on Christmas morning. "Hell yeah. Let me go get the lotion." You chuckle at his sudden change of heart and watch as he sprints off to the bedroom. 

You're laid out topless in just your underwear when Jake returns and he moans quietly at the sight. He makes his way over to you and straddles your back, squeezing some lotion into his hands and rubbing them together.

"You can have this anytime you want babygirl. Just say the word." His voice is husky as he thinks about getting to rub down every inch of your skin. You move your hair off your back and wiggle your ass against him just enough to send heat through his body. 

He shakes his head and puts his hands on your back, applying the perfect amount of pressure to the sore muscles. His mouth is right next to your ear and his voice is a deep whisper. "You're going to pay for that as soon as you feel better." 

Your body explodes with tingles and you fight off a shiver at his tone and implication. Jake leans back to continue working his magic hands, satisfied with your response. If this is the treatment you get, you might just get sick more often.

Taglist:

@disturbedbeautywrites​

@drakelover78​

@manyfandomsfanvergent​

#jake seresin #Jake seresin imagine #jake seresin top gun #Jake seresin fluff #Jake seresin x reader #hangman #hangman imagine #hangman top gun #hangman x reader #jake hangman seresin #hangman fluff #top gun imagine #top gun maverick #top gun fluff

[kalibu]

Being in a relationship with Sugawara was great. He would buy you your favorite sweets, made sure you eat homemade meals everyday and overall treated you like a princess. But he was also very needy and clingy. Whenever you went out, he was whining and pouting. Even if it was just to go the corner shop for some soda. When you came back he was always sitting in the chair waiting for you, even if it was 3 in the morning.

You went out for a cup of coffee with your friends. You came back and entered the living room where Suga was already expecting you, staring at the door. You already knew what was coming. Before you could say hi, he jumped out, threw you over his shoulder and took you to the bedroom. He laid you on the bed and started kissing you roughly. He pulled away and started undressing you. Before you could properly catch your breath you were bare naked underneath him and he went back to kissing you.

He groped your breasts and gave them a light squeez. After some time he pulled away again and started to undress himself. In a blink of an eye he was also naked, but instead of giving attention to your lips again he moved lower. You felt his hot breath against your cunt before he dove in and started eating you out like a starving man. The sudden stimulation made you moan out loudly and arch your back slightly. Sugawara smirked against your cunt and started playing with your clit now. He then pushed two fingers inside you and didn't hesitate to move them at a fast pace. It was too much for you and you came on his fingers.

He pulled away and licked his fingers and lips. Your chest was heaving and you tried to pull yourself together. Without you noticing Sugawara now moved to your ear and whispered "Relax, we have a long night ahead of us"

#sugawara smut #sugawara x you #sugawara koushi #suga fanfic #sugawara drabble #haikyuu smut #haikyu x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu fanfiction #hq sugawara #fanfiction #sugawara x reader

[vivalabunbun]

History Might Have Forgotten

Summary: A new storyteller appears at Alhaitham’s favorite cafe, and you seem to like to pick his brain about reading between the lines.

Word count: 4.2k (The longest one I’ve ever written)

Tags: gn reader x alhaitham, sfw, slow burn, lore heavy (kinda), spoilers for archon quest, just alhaitham being difficult to get along with as usual. Kaveh just here for moral support. I did use in-game dialogue from their post on the cafe message board. Written before 3.4, so some things might be inaccurate later on.

Authors Note: Sorry if the fairytales are kinda wack, I tried to make my own. Also, I looked at a bunch of lore about sumeru and the scarlet king and goddess of flowers and just decided to run with it. Def not pure canon, but I hope you still enjoy!

“There once was a time when the lord of flowers had accompanied the lord of the forest into the depths of the irminsul, curious about the root of all knowledge in Teyvat. Its bright white branches stretched seemingly endlessly, throughout the realm. She was unprepared for the dull reality of waiting for her friend to finish her sacred tasks of looking after the irminsul. 

Looking around at the knowledge that flowed like a gentle sinkhole towards the tree of the world, whose white branches reflected off the calm pool, the lord of flowers felt the itch to get up and perform a dance. 

Perhaps dancing shall make the time pass by faster, and with that thought, the goddess of flowers closed her eyes letting the beat of imaginary music flow through her divine body. 

Each elegant step, each precise glide of her hands, each graceful twirl faithfully followed by the reflection in the pool of knowledge. Her dance so captivating that the lord of the forest could not help but stop and admire her friend’s dance, as an avatar of the irminsul, she could feel that the sacred tree was also pleased with this performance. 

As the lord of flowers knelt one knee to the ground in a bow, signifying the end of the show…

There was the echo of a drop hitting the waters still surface, followed by a violent rush of water as the surface tension broke, then stillness once more.

A Jinn came into existence. Its birth was witnessed by the lord of the forest and the lord of flowers whom the Jinn mirrored in beauty. 

‘It appears irminsul loved your performance so much, it wanted to create an avatar from your reflection.’ The forest lord interpreted the message from the world tree. 

‘A gift of the highest honor.’ The goddess of flowers spoke, gently caressing the locks which framed the Jinn’s gaze that looked not into her eyes, but into the depths of her heart.” 

‘What a ridiculous tall tale’, the scribe thought as he took a sip of coffee. 

Teal eyes peering over his cup, in place of where Maddah, the caffeine-addicted man, usually was, stood a fresh face. He remembers Kaveh rambling about how Maddah’s material had become so stale, the owners at Puspa Cafe had invited a wandering storyteller. 

Instead of the exaggerated legends of great battles, lost treasure, and towering monsters told by the jittery man. These stories were different, it was as if the storyteller was painting a scenery into the minds of the listener, slowly immersing them into a mental play. However, as a man of reason, Alhaitham found it hard to ignore the glaring inaccuracies in the stories. 

In the largest expanse of ancient text and scripts of kingdoms gone, there was no mention of such a Jinn. As he thought about the sources of this tale, calm applause rippled through the homely corner of the cafe. 

You had finished telling your tales for the day, a serene smile thanking your listeners as you headed towards the acting manager. A bit eager to collect your payment in the form of a warm meal and a few mora. It had only been a week since the manager approached your street performance near the Grand Bazaar, seemly desperate to invite you to perform at Puspa Cafe. 

Who were you to pass up such a cushy opportunity? A hot meal and a steady stream of mora were more than you could ever ask for. You brought forth your best stories, where one story ended, the next began. However, you would always stop after introducing the next story, ensuring that the anticipation drew your listeners back like bees to a sweet flower. 

Upon your way to settle down at a table to await your meal, the peaceful atmosphere of the cafe was shattered by two bickering voices.

“And that is exactly why I've always despised materialists like you. Art is a precious fruit of leisure. You can't compare it to production and exploitation for commercial purposes!” A blond man exclaimed.

“Leisurely people are like people walking on a spherical ground, they don't exist. Why don't you use your brain and think for a moment? Can the production of anything exist without commercial exchange?” Was the rebuttal from an ashen-haired man.

Oh, and you thought you were supposed to be the entertainment as people dined on their coffee and meals. The clash of wits playing out in front of everyone’s amused glances, something about the reactions of the other patrons told you this was a regular occurrence.

“Have you no understanding of what passion is? Passion comes within the heart, not the cold machine of commercialism!”

“Passion is like a fire, without anything to feed it. It soon will flicker weakly before burning out into ashes. How can any passion survive without mora?” 

“Ugh! I cannot bare to listen to your mangled views of art!”

“Great, shall I take that as a sign that you have found new lodging?”

“How low will you stoop, Scribe??”

“Excuse me.”

Both of their heads snapped toward you, the person who had interfered with their debate. However, your interest could not help but be peeked by the discussion of this comical scene. You had abandoned your original plans of settling down, instead, you had wandered toward this lively table.

 As a supporter of art yourself, you felt the need to come to the blond man’s defense, seeing how his lack of composure is leading him down the path of defeat.

“Apologies, if I am intruding. However, this discussion is far too interesting to not join. May I give my thoughts?”

 The blond man shifted his position at the table, opening up room for you to sit down. 

“Please be my guest, storyteller. Please educate this materialistic man about the basics of human leisure.” 

Placing yourself in front of the ashen-haired man, you made sure to keep your back straight to give yourself an air of confidence. You began your surrebutter.

“While it is true that an aspect of art is tied to commercialism, the true value cannot be fully measured. It cannot be counted like mora, nor measured by a sexton. Thus, causing many scholars to brush art off as a frivolous waste of time. But the value of art can be felt, no? From the layout of this cafe, to the spines of books, to the print of the words. It’s all art.”

The man in front of you just returned a scoff. Oh, you knew you were in for a long debate now. 

Throughout the drawn-out debate, you had gained key information about the two gentlemen that had welcomed you to their table. The blond man’s name was Kaveh, the famous architect and fellow lover of the arts. The ashen-haired man, with whom you were engaged in continuous rounds of rebuttals, was the scribe of the Akademiya, Alhaitham. A stubborn and rational man, you concluded. Unfortunately for him, you can be just as self-willed. 

“As I have stated before. Art holds more than just monetary value, dear scribe. As a graduate of Haravatat, you should know that many of the texts you translated over your studies were preserved by storytellers and artists who first pasted them down in oral tradition, followed by written script and murals.” You signed. 

“That is exactly why we students had to be wary of the inaccuracies and inconsistencies riddled all throughout those texts. Just like with the tale you told earlier, there is no record of such a Jinn existing before, such a significant creation by the sacred tree will most certainly be recorded somewhere. The history that they record is so twisted by biases and failure of human memory, it is rare to gain anything of significant value from them.”

“Oh my, dear scribe were you by chance equating the existence of a character in a folktale correlates with a physical being?” You tried to stifle your snicker.

 “I did not expect you to have such a cute side. I heard that the children in Mondstadt do the same, believing that a man in a red suit will slide down their chimney to give them wonderful little toys. Were you disappointed?” 

Alhaitham narrowed his teal eyes at you in a slight glare. “You know what I mean. There seem to not be any mention of this Jinn in other Sumerian folktales.” 

You couldn’t help the urge to tease him, but you could feel that he did not seem to want to continue the debate after hearing the cackle coming out of his roommate from your little jest. 

“Yes, yes I was just jesting, dear scribe. Please don’t be disappointed. The Jinn could be an analogy of the bond formed between the lord of the forest and the lord of the flowers.” You stood up from your seat. 

Your food had long been eaten, his coffee had long been left untouched. You were at the moment considered an employee of Puspa Cafe in a way, thus you shouldn’t be upsetting the customers now. 

“Let us conclude this debate for today. I believe I have taken enough of your time, gentlemen. How about we continue this discussion another day? Perhaps over a meal again?” You gave him a smile mixed with customer service and genuine hopefulness. 

“Another time?” Alhaitham scoffed, “you want this debate to drag out?”

“Of course,” you noted that he likes to scoff a lot (must be his ego). “It’s to ensure that you will come back to listen to my stories again, maybe you will learn something new. After all, I have to prove to you and the acting manager my ‘commercial value’ no?” 

The tall man simply crossed his arms over his chest, an unreadable expression on his face. However, something in his eyes gave you the hint that you needed to confidently conclude, ‘he’ll be back’. After all, no scholar in your experience would ever turn down an opportunity to gain a new piece of wisdom. 

“I shall take my leave now, I bid you all goodnight. Until the next time we meet.” 

Alhaitham’s eyes followed your figure as you ambled your way toward the acting manager to bid her goodnight, before exiting from the intricately painted door of the cafe, your features highlighted by the warm hues of the setting sun. Once your frame disappeared from his field of view, the scribe realized an error in his interaction with you.

 There was an unequal exchange of information, from Kaveh’s blabbering mouth you had gained knowledge of their names, studies, and employment. Meanwhile, Alhaitham could not recall a time during tonight when you had given him your name, all they knew was that you were a wandering storyteller. 

‘Oh well, it’s trivial at this point.’ He did not even want to imagine how ridiculous a scene would be of the grand scribe chasing down someone simply for a name.

 ‘This unequal exchange of information will be balanced out in due time.’ He finished the rest of his cold coffee, unphased by the bitter taste. As if a thought was distracting his mind from the taste. Or was it the sweet anticipation of a future meeting that had mellowed out that bitterness? 

Good refreshing debates that stimulate his mind were rare to come by, of course, he would want to take this chance to polish his knowledge and beliefs. 

The moon chased the sun away, then the sun chased the moon away from its place in the sky. Thus, a new day came forth.

 It was five o’clock sharp when Alhaitham placed his pen down, the report in his hand half finished. However, it was no longer his responsibility for the day as dictated by the hands of the grandfather clock in his office. Tidying up his desk and taking his cape off the back of his chair, he knew he had to be quick so as to not run into an Akademiya intern with another mountain of paperwork to place on his oak desk. 

Since the removal of Azar and his group of corrupted sages, as well as the reinstitution of their archon, the piles of paperwork that ended up on his desk only grew exponentially. But, Alhaitham made sure that the paperwork trail will not follow him once he step foot outside his office doors. He made sure to clearly post his working hours right outside his door, it was not his fault that esteemed scholars seem to not be able to read his posting.

 He had arrived at his office at nine o’clock in the morning, worked a full day at his desk reading new research proposals, applications for open positions, and signing off on new amendments issued by the lesser lord. Now that the clock now reads a minute past five, he had concluded that it was enough work for the day. It was not like the entire Akademiya would collapse without their acting grand sage for the night, though he preferred to not have that title. 

Taking long strides across the marble floors of the Akademiya floors, Alhaitham made sure to avoid the searching eyes of others, especially if they happened to be carrying a stack of paper. Exiting out of the grand doors of the building and continuing down the winding path, allowing his skin to get used to the sudden change from the cool crisp air of his office, to the warm afternoon breeze typical of Sumeru. Thus, he began his routine journey toward a certain cafe. 

The moment he pushed open the door to the cafe, he could see the staff take one look at him, then start to prepare his order. There was no need for him to speak a word to any of them as he made his way to his preferred table. The familiar faces of other patrons were all around, more to join as they were still making their way from work to the cafe, the same smell of coffee and samosas wafting through the air. The only change seemed to be that Maddah was not standing in the center of the collection of tables.

In that spot stood you, the nameless storyteller who recently had just arrived, and the person patient (willing) enough to want to continue a debate with him.  

“Thank you all for coming back to hear my stories tonight, “ you began as soon as the last table was occupied. 

“The tale I wish to tell tonight may be a bit different, as I believe it holds a small mystery. Will you be able to decipher it?” 

Alhaitham could feel the weight of your gaze upon him as you questioned the audience. He simply decided to blow off the steam from the coffee that had just been placed on his table, the white vapors bending and warping his view of you. 

“There once was a dove, young and as soft as padisarah petals. It had a lovely coo, which earned the dove the favor of the goddess of flowers. 

‘What a lovely thing you are, just as the same as I. Oh, my little dove will you coo for me?’ The goddess stroked its down feathers.” 

Taking sips of his dark coffee in intervals as he watched you perform, Alhaitham could not help but find the story childish. Certainly not befitting of a cafe frequented by working adults, and yet here you were captivating a room full of weary grown-ups with a children’s tale. It must be your gestures and facial expressions that drew the audience in. 

At this point in the story, it seems to have been established that the dove would only coo about the events of the goddess’s day truthfully. One day, the lord of flowers must have grown tired of its cooing and left the dove on a branch, promising to come back for it. Then came a group of children.

“‘Little dove, little dove, sing us a tale!’ They cheered. 

So the dove, chest puffed with a sense of being wanted, sang the details of the day lived by its goddess. However, halfway through the children began to walk away. 

‘Wait, wait!’ The dove cried. ‘I have not finished.’ 

‘No more! Your tales are far too boring.’ 

‘Boring?’ Thought the dove, ‘but it’s the truth.’

Alone once more the dove gaze longingly at the marketplace in front of it. Eyes peeled for the goddess that promised to return. 

It watched a child drop a piece of flatbread which was then swiftly picked up by a mouse. A cat ran away from a dog that yapped nonstop. Merchants calling people over to their stalls, blacksmiths wiping the sweat from their eyes, and a sumpter beast resting near the edge.

 An idea strung into the mind of the dove, as it used its wings to find the children. 

‘Children! I have a new tale to tell, oh will you please listen to it?’

Resting on the lap of one of the children, the dove began.

‘There once was a mouse who followed the crumbs of bread left by a small child, straight into the watchful eyes of a cat! With a squeak, the mouse ran from the cat as the feline gave chase. 

Only for the cat to step upon the tail of a dog, who howled in pain, then began running after the cat who ran after the mouse. The dog’s clumsy body knocked over a basket of spices that belonged to a merchant, causing the man to let out a cry of despair at his lost profits as he began to chase the dog who ran after the cat who was still running after the mouse. 

The merchant in his rage failed to see the blacksmith, bumping into his arm causing the large man to brand himself with hot iron. The large man roared in pain, then began chasing the merchant who pursued the dog, who ran after the cat, who was hunting the mouse. 

The blacksmith, still nursing his wound, stepped on the head of a sumptering beast, who raged after being awoken from its nap and began charging at the blacksmith, who ran as quickly as he could, causing the merchant to run faster. When the dog saw that the merchant was getting closer, he began to prance faster toward the cat, who let out a hiss as she ran after the mouse who still had the crumb in its mouth.’ 

Finishing the tale, the dove heard laughter ring out from the children. 

‘What a wondrous tale,’ a familiar voice called out. 

It was the goddess, who had returned to search for the little dove and wound up hearing the tale as well. 

‘My little dove, will you coo more tales like this for me?’

Thus, from that day onwards the little dove would coo tales that brought new curiosity to the court where three friends met.” 

You brought your hands in front of your torso, signaling the end of the story. Giving a slight bow as the patrons began to clap. 

“So, can anyone guess what this story was trying to explain?” You finally revealed the question to the audience. 

A chorus of answers began to ring out from eager scholars and nonscholars alike wanting to test their wisdom.

“Is it an analogy for how lies are more beautiful than truth?”

“No, it must be symbolizing the corruption of truth due to pressure!”

“Was it a warning to entertainers that if their patron gets tired of their ‘coo’, they’ll be abandoned?”

“No, mmm not quite, my that is a dark interpretation. Are you by chance okay, sir Maddah?”

As the ensemble of interpretations dragged on, you could tell the crowd was slowly moving toward the answer you were looking for. 

“Oh! I know it! The story seeks to depict the origin of storytelling!” Kaveh exclaimed, one can only wonder when he had sat down at Alhaitham’s table and began ordering meals and drinks on the former scribe’s tab. 

“Yes! Excellent! I knew a fellow aesthete would get the unwritten meaning!” You clapped and looked toward the blond man with a smile. 

Great, you just inflated his roommate’s already overbearing ego. He could already see that baseless confidence travel its way up Kaveh’s face as he proudly huffed. After you had thanked the audience for being wonder listeners and for participating in your little mystery, you made your way to their table.  

“So, what did you think of the story? Did you find its hidden meaning?” You sat down right in front of him, in the same spot as yesterday. 

“Oh? Like what, how oral recordings of history become so marred and twisted throughout the years by many tongues to the point it is reduced to a mere story for a child?” Alhaitham picked right the debate right there, skipping the pleasantries. You let out a sigh, lips pouting a bit as you rested your head on one hand. 

“My, not even a hello? None the else. Your claim from yesterday just got challenged.” 

“How so?” He placed his cup down, attention solely focused on you now. 

“That same Jinn created from a goddess’s reflection from yesterday’s tale made an appearance in this tale.” You remarked. 

“Nonsense, these stories are not related, there was no mention of a Jinn. Plus, how can I be sure that you did not just craft this tale overnight when this debate was put on hold?” He crossed his arms, the wire of his headphones shifting slightly. 

“It is quite the popular folktale among some of the desert settlements I have visited, the tale of the goddess of flower’s beloved dove, and if you were willing to look past the superficial surface you would have seen the clear indicator. Tell me scribe, what does the line ‘what a lovely thing you are, just as the same as I’, remind you of?” 

Bringing one hand to tuck under his chin as he replayed that line in his head for approximately 5 seconds. 

“It’s what one would say if they were complimenting themselves in front of a mirror.” 

He saw you lift your head up a bit as the beginnings of a smile began to form on your lips. 

“However,” he added, “it’s such a jump to an interpretation from a minuscule detail. Such things do not hold much merit. Ever heard of confirmation bias, the tendency to interpret things to align your preconceived beliefs? ”    

“In the space where truths are recorded, there lies the space for truths not recorded. To interpret this space, one must naturally make some leaps of faith, often by relating the spaces between two written truths, one can find hidden knowledge take shape in that space.” 

“So you are admitting that the interpretation is made up?” 

“No, I’m simply saying that there is a hidden truth. I shall tell you the deeper meaning of this tale since you can’t seem to want to read between the lines. The story acknowledges that history passed through tales gets warped, evidenced by the tall tale spun by the dove about the mouse. However, the key events and characters remained immortalized in the dove’s story.” 

Your food had arrived in front of you, but your eyes never left his. Even as the enticing scent of tahchin beckoned.  

“The mouse was there, as was the cat, as was the merchant, and so on. As this tale continues to be passed down and hear, these events shall always be there. Through war, oppression, and persecution, that snapshot of time can still live through it all. Just waiting for someone to look past the surface and discover the past carefully encased by the cushion of folklore.”        

“What a poetic view of children’s bedtime story of a dove that can talk.” Alhaitham went to pour himself another cup of coffee, just to enjoy the aroma as he would like to have a restful night of sleep. 

“In the spaces where truths are left unrecorded each time one truth is, those truths are just forever lost to time. The question they raise is left unanswered. I have experienced this more than my fair share of times.” The scribe commented. 

“What if stories and art serve to lead you to those answers?”

“What if they lead you further astray?”

And with that, the second act of this debate seems to have drawn to a close. Alhaitham pulled out a book, enjoying the peace that had washed over the table as you shifted your attention to the tahchin. Kaveh had long joined another table for a round of TCG. 

“Dear scribe, can you answer me this? Have you read all text related to the history of Sumeru and its desert?”

Looking up from his book a bit peeved, he answers honestly. “I have not, but I have studied most.”

“So, your previous statement about how there is no record of the Jinn is incorrect. There is no record that you have read.”

“I have already read most.”

“But not all.”

He resisted the urge to press his lips into a thin line at the sight of you eating a spoonful of tahchin, a hint of smugness twinkled in your eyes. As if you had leveled out the rebuttals once more. It seems like this debate might drag on longer than he had anticipated. 

Authors Note 2: Okay so this story is heavily based on an oc of mine, but I thought it would be more interesting to have it to make it about the reader. But if I feel like it (or if enough people are curious enough) I might post my oc, but this series and blog will stay as a reader insert bc it’s more fun that way no?

#alhaitham x you #genshin x you #genshin x reader #alhaitham x reader #genshin impact x reader #alhaitham x yn #alhaitham x y/n #genshin impact x you #al-haitham x reader #al haitham x you #al haitham x reader #al-haitham x you #vivalabunbunfics

[sundays-wing-piercing]

Moon-non, or as you may call me, "Mon", here.

I understand, tbh food prompts probably arent that creative unless there are actual scenes with it, probably something like making breakfast with someone in the kitchen or something.

Sunday seems like the kind who would enjoy his time eating breakfast before setting off with his workload, considering he probably doesn't get much time to himself. I imagine instead of helping you or you helping him with breakfast, he would more thoroughly and slowly enjoy a conversation at the table, food almost going cold from how long it keeps going, (mainly because he's talking to you, but also because I also firmly believe him being temperature sensitive as you suggested, so.. bonus?). He seems like he enjoys apple juice instead of orange juice.

Anyway, other than that, Sunday is definitely warm-bodied. He wears gloves and a copious amount of layers, probably because it's a character design thing but it's also quite cute to imagine. Although his hands are probably always colder even though he wears gloves.

He would most definitely take his gloves off to hold your hand. Its cold, but a refreshing kind. Like drinking cool water on a hot day, kind.

Anyways, i kind of forgot what I wanted to say in the middle of recollecting the previous ask-response, so I went off on a bit of a tangent. I hope i remember again soon.

Thank you for responding and listening so far. I like discussing about my favorite characters like this.

– moon anon 🌘

aaaa monnie welcome back!!! So sorry I just really like nicknames (Ai is a nickname)

Some days he probably doesn't even have time to have a full breakfast so when he does he'll enjoy every passing second. Sitting at the table as he tells you all about the newest things he came across or found out about. On the days where he simply just has too much to do he'd probably settle for a sandwich with a cup of coffee so when he does have time he'll indulge himself in sweeter meals like waffles or pancakes or your typical bacon and eggs with either juice, tea or milk. Also him liking apple is so on point I can't think of him liking orange usually its too sour or too sweet for him.

BRO OMG LIKE DUDE him taking off his gloves to caress your cheek and feeling the cold directly on your skin gosh lean into it and press kisses on his palms. And and and cuddling with him all soft and stuff on cold nights is such a treat. The warm sensation in contrast to the cold room not to mention the way he holds you gentle enough that it's comforting but still too tight for you to escape out of. His snores are soft and breathy comparable enough to a lullaby. Why would you ever want to let go? That is until you have to go to the bathroom.

Thank you also for coming so oftenand reading my hcs!!! I wrote this in a more energized state so I hope it's more to your liking but if it's not y'know what to do

#ai rants #hsr sunday #sunday hsr #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #sunday x reader #hsr sunday x reader #– moon anon 🌘