#''where did it go‚ did i leave it in the cold?''

[syggwolf]

Not to hijack this post or anything, and I'm gonna share some seriously depressing stuff here, along with talk of injuries and blood, just as a warning, but I can easily pinpoint the (And I cannot stress this enough.) SINGLE most traumatic thing that ever happened to me in a long, long, long line of catastrophically traumatic things: It was a very specific incident of being told not to cry. And it wasn't like I wasn't already told not to cry already or anything because, you know, you have a dick, you're not allowed to cry past the age of six and all that. And I was about thirteen so, way beyond that point. But this time, I mean, it was sort of a big deal. You see, unfortunately for me, a very heavy falling object had split my forehead open, and the amount of blood pouring down my face had convinced me that I was pretty for sure probably maybe going to die. Also it really hurt. But because I went into shock, I started laughing instead. I want to stress: the laughing was a panic reaction, not conscious, nor on purpose. Then I proceeded to leave an unbroken trail of blood all the way up to the front door of my house, about a half a block away. All the other kids fled as soon as it happened, except for one; another boy who was a friend of mine, only slightly older than me, who walked with me up to my house and came inside. Well, my mom shrieked and put an icepack on it, which, if you've never had burning cold shoved against exposed skull, it kinda really hurts even more than getting your skull exposed in the first place. And so I'm sitting there on the couch next to my friend, who's still staring in horror at my head and the blood all over my face. By this point I have definitely stopped laughing or doing much of anything, and the sheer amount of "I am so fucked." is starting to sink in because they are calling a fucking ambulance. My dad is sitting there, yelling at my friend to explain what the fuck happened and my friend gets to the part where I started laughing and my dad looks at me, and no bullshit, at this exact moment, there's a spike of pain from my head, and I'm miserable and it's sinking in that I'm going to the fucking HOSPITAL in an AMBULANCE and I am definitely in trouble. (Which is another fun thing that happens in an abusive household. Imagine thinking you're in trouble for getting hurt. Spoilers, I did in fact get yelled at, excessively. My intelligence, character, moral fiber, strength, and foresight were all called into question.) So right there, with all of that hitting at once and my father staring straight at me, my chest hitches and I fuck up and I let out a voice cracking little whimper. My father looked at me with an absolutely haunting combination of anger, disappointment, and some kind of disgust, and he said in this very rough, clipped tone that was more threat than anything else, "Don't you dare. You will NOT cry." And that broke something inside of me that to this day I've never been able to fix. If the role of a "man" was not to cry even under circumstances as extreme as that, than I clearly was broken in some way and I would endeavor to never cry again. And even Now? I simply cannot cry until I fully and completely lose control of every aspect of myself and snap, and even then it never lasts longer than a few moments. I can't make noise while I'm doing it either. It's a silent affair that can only happen in the most extreme circumstances when I am alone. His reasoning for saying that to me? For looking at his wounded child, blood covered face and pain and misery and all, and saying those words? He wanted the story to get around the neighborhood that I laughed at having my head split open because he thought it would make me look cool and really badass. He literally told me that to my face a few hours later, and said it was for my own good because none of the kids would fuck with me if I looked manly. He also chewed me out for possibly ruining it for having the gall to break while my friend was still next to me. The patriarchy is fucking evil and must be destroyed.

Everyone is so weird about people who cry easily. Fellas, is it evil and manipulative to *checks notes* have an involuntary stress response?

[sweetshuga]

𝑴𝒂𝒕𝒕 𝑺𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐 ✰ 𝑰𝒎𝒂𝒈𝒊𝒏𝒆

───~𓆩♡𓆪~───

𝒃𝒇!𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒕! Warming his dick in you after experimenting with snow. "Fu—ck, y’feel so good, so fuckin’ warm."

𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒂. @issysh3ll... Her asks inspires me everyday. «𝑰𝒏𝒔𝒑𝒊𝒓𝒆𝒅»

𝒘𝒄. 𝟫𝟧𝟩

𝒑𝒔𝒂. English is not my first language! A little bonus since I accidentally posted Smutmas before I was supposed to<3 𝑴𝑫𝑵𝑰

Matt woke up earlier than usual, groaning softly as he stretched his limbs before carefully disentangling himself from your sleeping form. He stood up and immediately walked to the window above his bed. Lifting the curtains up slightly to see the weather and his eyes lit up, it was snowing. His mind pinged with an idea—his painfully stiff morning wood dragging his mind into the gutter.

He grumbled a complaint under his breath about his dick being too insatiable before slipping on an oversized white jumper that hid his arousal. Ready to go out and get some snow from outside to do his little experiment he just thought of.

The moment he stepped outside a shiver ran down his spine from the cool breeze, "fuck, why’s it so fucking cold outside?" He mumbled as he briskly walked towards his car where there was a thin sheet of snow covering the roof. He carefully extracted a small amount of snow into a plastic bag before walking back inside, letting out a shuddering breath.

"Hm? You’re up early, and is that snow?" Nick laughed in amusement as he walked towards Matt, "I can’t believe you went out at 5 am just to get snow in a plastic bag, what’re you even gonna do with that? Don’t tell me you’re gonna rub—" Matt punched Nick’s arm, making him let out a loud noise.

"Ow motherfucker! What was that for?" "Why are you awake?" Nick raised his eyebrows, "why am I awake? Well, someone has to edit the fucking videos, and I didn’t wake up, I just didn’t sleep." Matt shook his head slightly, a laugh escaping him despite himself, making Nick’s annoyed expression falter and morph into a grin.

𓆩♡𓆪

Matt finally managed to get back to his room, exhaling softly as he closed the door behind himself. He walked away from the door and towards the bed, checking if you were still sleeping before he walked to his gaming chair. Plopping down on it, he looked at the bag of snow that still somehow hadn’t melted yet—much to his excitement. He quickly pulled down his pants, letting out a low groan as he palmed his painfully hard erection.

He tugged his jumper over his head and shrugged it off, leaving him in a black tank top, and his pj flannel pants down mid-thigh. His red briefs had a blotch of precum soaking the front, and he was quick to pull his briefs down slightly, letting his hefty length spring free. "Fuck," he rasped as he swiped his thumb over his tip, collecting the steadily leaking precum before spreading some of it around his shaft.

Matt couldn’t resist giving himself a few pumps, letting out a series of muffled moans as he did so. He reluctantly let go of himself – his length twitching from the loss of friction – and took the bag of snow. He knew it was nearly impossible to put the snow flake by flake on his tip, but he wanted to try anyway—his curiosity clouding his common sense.

𓆩♡𓆪

"Fuck this," he groaned aloud, tossing the bag of slushy of snow onto his desk. His tip was cold, slightly red and swollen from not getting relief, and he could feel himself shuddering. Suddenly, he felt a gentle hand carding through his hair. "What’re you doing baby..." Your voice trailed off when you looked down at his lap – his cock standing at attention – before taking your gaze back to his face which now had a pink-ish hue to it. All sleep, that lingered, vanished into thin air, an undeniable heat pooling in your panties from the erotic scene.

"Matt, what—" he cut you off with a quick mumble that sounded something like "It’s fine, i’ll deal with it myself". You chuckled softly, "you sure?" He gulped audibly, his resolve crumbling bit by bit. "I mean... I don’t wanna burden you, you don’t have to—" he paused and sighed—knowing his hands couldn’t compare to your warm pussy. "I take it back, please, sweetheart?" You smiled and pulled him up and towards the bed.

He stumbled slightly due to his pants and briefs around his thighs, but made it to the bed nonetheless and plopped on it, his erection bobbing obscenely. You chuckled before tapping his thighs, "c’mon, up." He immediately lifted himself up just enough for you to pull his pants and briefs further down, letting it pool at his ankles and shimmied out of your own underwear before straddling his lap.

He hissed in a breath when he felt your warmth on his much cooler skin. "Fuck, baby, hold on—" he let out a shaky moan when you teased his tip against your already slippery slit. He felt his need increase tenfold, the sensation of your warm and wet pussy against his poor sensitive tip proving to be too much for him, and in an instant you were laying under him with wide eyes from the sudden change in positions.

His tongue darted out to wet his lips, gripping your hips tightly before suddenly plunging deep inside without any warning. The coolness of the head of his cock against your much warmer insides sent tingles down your spine. "Oh fuck, Matt," you moaned, your head thrown back against the pillow and eyes shut tightly to prevent it from rolling back. Your hands flew out to clutch onto his forearms when he started to move.

"Fu—ck, y’feel so good, so fuckin’ warm." He groaned, his hand coming up to cover your mouth, "shh—sweets, we’re not alone—mffh, you know." He didn’t wait for a reply and instead started to increase his pace. Making sure to hit all the right spots. He knew everything about you—and your pretty little cunt, after all.

𓆩♡𓆪

𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕: @strnilolover @mattsfavoritestar @sophand4n4 @tpwktahlz @lilyyliloo @slut4angstt @pvssychicken @poolover123 @loud-sturniolos @inlovewchrissturniolo @sagesturns @chrisstopherfilmed @billiesbabya @h3arts4nat @moosegirl96 @sofiaaguilaxx @sturniolo-fann @goingtojohnkramershouseee @sturniolosluttt @chrislilcumslvt @mattsninja @bilssturns @sturnioloszn @slvtf0rchr1s @knowingnothingnoel @shadowthesim @brookheartsmatt @starstrucktyrantinfluencer @m00nl1ghts1vt @strnlslut @ribread03 @hearts4werka @larallott @ivysturnss @chrisfavoritewhore @peiivnao @sturniolokaulitz @diasturnsth

© sweetshuga

[florestalio]

DAYDREAM — L.HS

GENRE: pwp. i would say more, but i wanna keep the plot (or lack thereof) a secret

SYNOPSIS: where heeseung gets the best head of his life... or does he?

WARNINGS: (1.6k words) 18+, oral (m! rec), hair pulling, throat fucking, throat bulging, cum eating, let me know if I missed any!

NOTE, daydream — "sip, sip, sip, make me empty". yep. that's it.

HEESEUNG LOOKED DOWN AT YOU WITH A SMIRK. God, you looked so fucking pretty right now, on your knees.

All for him.

His eyes raked over your pliant body shamelessly, licking his lips at the sight of one of the spaghetti straps of your cute white tank top having slid down your shoulder. Your tits were practically on display for him, since you chose not to wear a bra, your nipples having hardened, peaking through the thin material of your top. Your top was, to his perverse enjoyment, a low cut one, allowing him to see the top half of your tits.

Fuck, they were perfect. Just like the rest of you.

The way he was leaning back on the couch, his legs spread wide apart, one arm looped over the top of the couch, an extremely sexy smirk on his face — safe to say, he wasn't the only one turned on right now.

While he was sporting a rock hard boner, you yourself were rubbing your thighs together, your panties sticking uncomfortably to your folds. Your hands were clenching the material of his jeans on his thighs, an unintentional pout on your face.

Heeseung noticed, of course, cooing at you mockingly, at the sight of your pout. “Aw, are you feeling impatient? Want my dick down your throat that bad?”

Normally, you would be embarrassed by such vulgar words. But right now? Right now you were too horny to give a fuck about the language.

You nodded your head in a lust-driven frenzy, more slick gushing out of you. You needed him in you, anyway, anywhere — you just needed him.

His smirk widened at your answer. He didn't do anything yet, but you were already so pliant for him? What would happen when he actually did something?

He relaxed further into the couch, raising his eyebrows at you, the ever so cocky smirk not leaving his face. “Well? What are you waiting for then? Get on with it.”

Your eyes lit up at that, your hands flying to his zipper at lightning speed, clumsily trying to get rid of the barriers. You pulled down his waistband, the imprint of his cock very much visible through his boxers, a wet patch of precum accompanying it. As if in a trance, you started tracing its shape over the thin material.

His reaction was almost immediate. He let out a loud groan, throwing his head back on the sofa, his hips bucking into your hand. Encouraged by his reaction, you pressed your hand completely on him, starting to slowly palm him.

Heeseung had to bite down on his lip to muffle his sounds, his eyes hooded, as he watched you further rile him up. It was infuriating and hot at the same time. Unfortunately, he was starting to grow impatient from your teasing, causing him to push away your hand and grab a fistful of your hair instead, pulling your hair back. He sneered at you. “Have you had your fun yet? Get to work darling, or you might get into a lot of trouble. Trust me, I wouldn't be gentle about it.”

You gulped, nodding slowly, the sting from where your hair was being pulled causing your eyes to water. He let go of your hair, leaning back again. You grabbed the waistband of his boxers, slowly pulling them down. His cock sprang out, tall and proud. He let out a hiss as the cold air touched it, his mushroom tip an angry red colour, leaking a generous amount of precum.

You grabbed the base of his cock, using your other hand to grab the tip, spreading his precum around it with your thumb. His eyes rolled back in his head at the feeling, his bottom lip pulled in between his teeth to stop his moans from spilling out.

You had started to almost salivate the moment you saw his dick in all its glory, the urge to wrap your lips around it going through the roof. But you wanted to take your time with him. That's what you were here for, after all — to worship him.

You gave his tip a tentative lick, feeling it twitch in your hands, a muffled groan falling from his lips. Encouraged by his reaction, you started to give his tip kitten licks, leaving kisses along his entire length. You could see his chest rise and fall at a fast pace, his ragged breathing causing your pussy to throb with incessant need.

Unable to hold yourself back anymore, you took one hand off him, collecting a wad of spit in your mouth, before spitting it in your palm. You used your spit to rub his length, the mixture of your spit and his precum making the glide easier. You then finally wrapped your lips around his tip, swirling your tongue around it, the salty taste of his precum invading your senses, leaving you dazed.

Impatient from your teasing, he grabbed your hair into a makeshift ponytail, before pushing your head down on him completely, causing his dick to hit the back of your throat, causing you to gag. Your hands flew to his thighs, gripping them tightly, as you steadied yourself. 

You relaxed your jaw, slowly starting to bob your head up and down on his length, feeling the way he kept twitching in your mouth, despite not yet being close — although, you were more than happy to change that.

You relaxed your jaw and throat as best as possible, before taking him in deeper. His mushroom tip hit the back of your throat, causing him to choke lightly. He groaned at the feeling of your throat muscles contracting around his tip, causing him to buck his hips into your mouth — a huge mistake on his part, his cock having lodged itself further into your throat, the warm feeling causing him to let out a loud guttural moan.

He grabbed the back of your head again, quickly mumbling an apology to you. “‘M so sorry baby — but I need to fuck your mouth — will literally die if I don't–”

Before you could even register what was happening, you felt a sting at the back of your head, as his grip tightened on your hair. Suddenly, the air was completely knocked out of your lungs, as he started to harshly thrust into your mouth, fucking it as if it were your pussy.

Your nails dug into his thighs, drawing blood, although it did nothing to deter him. You could feel your eyes watering, tears falling in a steady stream from both of your eyes, drool falling from the corner of your lips. Heeseung noticed all of it in his lust driven haze, cooing at your pathetic appearance.

There was a bulge in your throat everytime he abused it, something you were glad that he was yet to notice. You could feel the vein on the underside of his cock pulsing, the pace of his thrusts increasing substantially as he chased his pleasure.

He grabbed your jaw in his other hand, squishing your cheeks together to make them hollow out further. His thrusts became erratic, his head falling back with a loud moan. “C-Cumming!–”

Suddenly, he pushed your head all the way down on him, your nose touching his pelvis. His eyes rolled into the back of his head, his jaw going slack. He shot rope after rope of cum straight into your mouth, your mouth helping him ride out his mind-blowing orgasm.

You finally pulled off his softening length, once he started squirming lightly from the overstimulation, swallowing every drop, careful to not spill anything. You opened your mouth wide, sticking out your tongue for him to check, getting a tired nod of approval.

He leaned back on the couch, breathing heavily, his mind reeling from the feeling of your amazing mouth. Without even realising, his eyes started closing, lulling him into a deep, much needed, sleep.

“OH, FOR FUCK’S SAKE, WAKE UP!”

Heeseung woke up with a start, wide eyes staring into your own angry ones in shock. Your hands were on your hips, your jaw clenched, eyes narrowed, as you glared at him. “Do you know how long I have been trying to wake you up for now? An hour! You hear me? An entire fucking hour! The party starts in half an hour, and neither of us have prepared any dresses to wear! What are we going to–”

He tuned you out. He wasn't particularly interested in what you were talking about either, too busy feeling hot all over, at the fact that he just had a dream. A wet dream. A wet dream about his best friend.

You scoffed, rolling your eyes, realising they had zoned out. You turned around on your heel. “Why do I even bother…”

You suddenly noticed a plushie having fallen down on the floor, causing you to roll your eyes. He must have thrown it while moving around in his sleep. You bent down to pick it up.

Heeseung noticed it. Or course he did. He always noticed everything, especially if it involved you. How could you be so oblivious to his attraction towards you?

His eyes darkened as he caught a flash of your pink panties from under your skirt, just before you stood up straight again. It made him realise something.

He was going to change your indifferent attitude towards him. He was going to make you notice him — properly. Even if he needed to use some… interesting methods for it.

[rafesangelita]

₊˚⊹˚ 𐙚 HONEYMOON

a series by rafesangelita ©

‘honeymoon’ is a series based on the songs off of lana del rey’s ‘honeymoon’ album. all fics released in this series can be read as standalones since none of theme correlate with one another. each fic has a line from each song in which it’s titled from. read each ‘warnings’ tab accordingly <3

all rights reserved. i do not allow any of my work to be copied, translated, or reposted on any third party site such as wattpad and/or ao3. violating this will result in you being blocked and restricted from my blog, along with a plagiarism submission.

this is a reuploaded series masterlist.

₊˚⊹♡ HONEYMOON

WORD COUNT: 1.2k

SUMMARY: ❝but you don’t go cause truly there’s nobody for you but me.❞ — not only did rafe catch you in a lie, he also saw jj making moves on you, and you allowing it to happen.

₊˚⊹♡ MUSIC TO WATCH BOYS TO

WORD COUNT: 3.8k

SUMMARY: ❝i like you a lot, putting on my music while i’m watching the boys.❞ — there’s no denying the attraction you and rafe share when you two meet each other. the only problem? he does business with barry, your older brother.

₊˚⊹♡ TERRENCE LOVES YOU

WORD COUNT: 1.4k

SUMMARY: ❝i lost myself and i lost you too.❞ — after a heated exchange, you leave rafe at the height of his addiction. fast forward two years later, and you have everything rafe couldn’t give you.

₊˚⊹♡ GOD KNOWS I TRIED

WORD COUNT: 3.0k

SUMMARY: ❝i feel free when i see no one, and nobody knows my name.❞ — you and rafe sneak away from an event neither of you want to be at..

₊˚⊹♡ HIGH BY THE BEACH

WORD COUNT: 1.0k

SUMMARY: ❝all i wanna do is get high by the beach.❞ — you and rafe make a small trip to your favorite smoke spot.

₊˚⊹♡ FREAK | FREAK PT.2

WORD COUNT: 3.2k | 3.0k

SUMMARY: ❝screw your anonymity, loving me is all you need to feel like i do.❞ — rafe cameron is your top donator, having been tuning into your live streams for several months now. one night of texting and spilling too much details has you and rafe running into each other at a party.

₊˚⊹♡ ART DECO

WORD COUNT: 2.6k

SUMMARY: ❝you’re so art deco, out on the floor. shining like gun metal, cold and unsure.❞ — your attempt to cut things off with rafe only fuels him to come back with a vengeance.

₊˚⊹♡ RELIGION

WORD COUNT: 1.3k

SUMMARY: ❝when i’m down on my knees, you’re how i pray.❞ — you show rafe how much you appreciate all the hard work he’s been doing.

₊˚⊹♡ SALVATORE

WORD COUNT: 2.3k

SUMMARY: ❝the summer’s hot, and i’ve been waiting for you all this time.❞ — rafe finally comes back home from his two-month long family vacation, surprising you in the middle of the night.

₊˚⊹♡ THE BLACKEST DAY

WORD COUNT: 2.7k

SUMMARY: ❝i got you where i want you, you’re deader than ever, and falling for forever.❞ — a deal gone wrong leads to you and rafe being stuck in the same room together.

₊˚⊹♡ 24

WORD COUNT: 3.1k

SUMMARY: ❝there’s only 24 hours in a day, and half of those you lay awake with thoughts of murder and carnage.❞ — when you accidentally witness rafe commit a murder, he’s willing to do everything he has to do in order to make sure there’s no loose ends. even if that means tracking you down and killing you himself.

[indecisive-gm]

Well, I need to get myself to do some kind of writing. This one'll be in English, the next one in German

Deutsche Übersetzung: Nun, ich muss dazu bringen, ein bisschen zu schreiben. Dieses wird auf Englisch, das Nächste wird auf Deutsch.

Jamie woke up and looked around. The room was dark enough that she couldn't see anything. Her legs were asleep, but she could feel the cold metal of the chair on her arms and the rope tied around her wrists. What had happened? The last thing Jamie could remember, she had been on her way home from a trip to the store. Someone must have snuck up on her and abducted her. Maybe Ryla's advice about walking with other people at night in the city wasn't such a bad idea.

The lights turned on, blinding Jamie for a moment as her eyes adjusted. When she could see again, she recognized the face of the person coming in from the door.

"Roger!" she sighed. "It's you! How did you find me?"

Roger didn't speak. Not too unusual for him. He was polite--even pretty friendly once you got to know him--but he was quieter and often focused on getting to business. He immediately walked around behind Jamie's chair and started fiddling with the rope.

"Sooo, which one of them sent you to come get me?" Jamie jested. Roger glared in response. "Oh, I know you care. I was just messing with you!"

The knot in the rope tightened, and Roger took a step back. This wasn't right. Jamie knew Roger could tie and untie knots; he'd helped her tie her bike with a chain when she forgot the lock for it. It wasn't likely a joke either. Roger never had much of a sense of humor.

That's when another figure entered the room. Jamie didn't know him, and he didn't look friendly. He was followed by two other men, each with a gun visibly holstered. The man looked at Jamie and grinned. "You still got it in ya after all, Tim."

Roger grumbled, "Yes. did you think I didn't?"

"We had to be sure," the man in the suite responded. "What, with this running off and taking on a new name. We needed to be sure you were still part of the family." He stepped forward and put a hand of Roger's cheek. "We are, aren't we?"

Roger met eyes with Jamie. What was he going to do? Jamie had thought he was a nice person--even a good friend--up until now. When Ash's phone got a virus, it was Roger who fixed it and recovered the files. When Jackson fell down the stairs and broke her leg, it was Roger who had made a splint on the spot and instructed everyone on what to do to help her. When boys from one of the fraternities made lewd comments at Ryla, it was Roger who scared them off before things escalated. And when Jamie first came to the city, it was Roger who helped her get settled in in the group's shared apartment. After all this, was this really who he was?

Roger looked back to the man in the suit. "Of course."

The man chuckled and slapped Roger on the back. "Good to hear, my boy. I knew you were a smart one. Let's clean up here and go back home."

The men started to leave, and Roger followed. As the door was closing, Jamie heard the man speak again. "Timmy, you know better than to leave loose ends like this." The door shut, and Jamie couldn't clearly hear the rest of the conversation.

BANG! Gunshots erupted from the other side of the door. Jamie was too scared to scream. Silence followed, and blood pooled under the door.

After a minute or so, the door started to open again. Jamie closed her eyes and prepared herself for it to be over. Maybe Roger had held true for a final standoff, but that was over. And now her life would be over too.

She felt something tug at the rope on her wrists. "They shot my right arm. I'll need you to listen to my instructions to help get this rope off of you." It was Roger's voice!

"Roger! You're-"

"Alive, yes. Let's... not speak of this, ok?"

"But..." Jamie took a moment to think about what had happened. Roger's association with the mob would explain some of his skills, but it opened more questions. Where to even start?

Roger answered, "Ash and Jackson would just be scared if they found out, and Ryla has enough on her plate already. Besides," he gestured to the dead bodies just outside the door. "These guys won't be waking up any time soon, and the rest of the gang will be too shaken by the incident to come after me. There, now pull your left hand out."

Shaking the slight numbness from her left hand from where the ropes had decreased circulation, Jamie shook her head. "Fine, I'll try not to let them know." Looking over at the dead gunmen, Jamie said to Roger, "You're sure we shouldn't at least call the police?"

"And get myself arrested too? I'd rather not. Pull on that loop now. No, the other one."

The rope around Jamie's right hand fell loose to the ground, and she stood up. And immediately fell over. "Ow!"

"Yeah, careful. You've been sitting down for a while, and you took a pretty bad scrape when I knocked you out before."

Waiting a moment as she rubbed her legs and felt the prickle of feeling returning to them, Jamie thought about the situation. "Why wait until now?"

"What?"

"Why wait until now to kill those guys if you knew it was going to happen anyway? You didn't need to kidnap me like that!"

"I... wasn't sure what to do." Roger looked down in shame. "I thought I was free, so I was caught by surprise when they found me. I followed their orders up until now, hoping to avoid the worst." He looked up at Jamie. "But I'm not willing to do the worst to avoid the worst. I want to help people, and I want to be a good friend." They both stood in silence for a moment. "I'm sorry for what happened. It won't happen again."

Jamie looked around the room one last time. With the light and not having to fear for her life about the people in front of her, she could actually get a good look at everything, not that there was much to see. It was a small cellar room, almost like a closet. Just outside the door, she could see a water heater and a washer and drier. Fortunately, this wouldn't be the last room she would see. Roger almost killed her here, but things could have ended worse. Looking back at Roger, no longer entirely sure what to think of him, she offered, "Well, I guess we can go home now?"

"Ah, not just yet." He gestured to his right arm which had been shot and to the blood all over his jacket and pants. He walked past Jamie to the drying machine and took out a clean pair of pants. "If I could borrow that closet for a second."

Jamie waited a moment in the laundry room while Roger changed pants in the cellar closet. This wasn't what she had expected, but how much could she really blame Roger? He was in a bad situation and did what he could. He had been one of the kindest and most helpful people she had known up to now. Was she ready to throw that away?

Roger came out of the cellar closet in a fresh pair of pants and without his jacket. "I found this old gym bag in the corner of the room. It looks like it hasn't been used in a while, so I don't think the owner will miss it too much. It'll help hide the bloody clothes." With a t-shirt and fresh sweat pants, he looked more like himself--though the slightly bloody torn cloth wrapped around his arm was new.

No, Roger had helped everyone else when they needed it, Jamie wouldn't be giving up on her friend now. Roger had clearly been through a lot. He had definitely hurt people, but he was trying so hard to do better, and had become a reliable figure to look up to for others. This was a horrible day, but Roger had done what he could in the end, and Jamie couldn't fault him for that.

"Let's get you to a hospital for your arm."

"No," Roger replied. "I've dealt with this before. I'll survive."

"You've helped us, it's time I do something to return the favor. We can stop at home first to drop off your jacket and pants."

Today you just found out your roommate with strange hobbies, like knowing how to pick a lock, knows how every puzzle and cipher by heart, or how to commit tax fraud, and so many other things, wasn't a guy with ADHD, he was an ex-assassin and now you have a gun pointed at your face

[infamous-light]

Their Eyes, Your Chains

Yandere Agatha & Rio Headcanons

Agatha Harkness x Rio Vidal x Gender Neutral Reader

AO3: Their Eyes, Your Chains

Word Count: 1K

Warnings: Possessive/obsessive behavior, yandere, manipulation, threats, stalking, jealousy

| Agatha

Agatha first discovered you on the outskirts of Westview. The instant her eyes landed on you, something primal stirred deep within her – an insatiable hunger that she couldn’t quite place. You looked so fragile, so misplaced in a world that would sooner consume you than offer kindness. At that moment, she knew she had to have you. You were perfect.

To ensure your safety – and her claim on you – Agatha placed a magical sigil on you, visible only to her. It would flare up if you strayed too far from her or if someone with ill intent approached you. You were hers and she would not tolerate anyone or anything that dared to threaten that bond.

Agatha controlled every aspect of your life – where you went, who you spoke to, and how long you stayed away from her. She masked her actions as “protection,” but the truth was clear: her obsessive need to keep you close drove her every move.

She was territorial. To Agatha, you belonged to her, and she allowed no one else to get too close to you.

Despite her possessive nature, Agatha showered you with attention, gifts, and affection, but her love still felt suffocating.

When you pushed back against her control, she alternated between cold fury and honeyed words, making you feel guilty for wanting freedom. “You don’t understand, darling. I do this because I love you. No one else will protect you the way I can.”

If you ever did manage to leave her, Agatha would go to terrifying lengths to bring you back. She would track you across the ends of the earth, twisting reality itself to prevent your escape. She might even cast a powerful spell to trap you in a dreamlike illusion, where you were blissfully happy and unaware of her manipulations, ensuring you would never wish to leave her side again.

Agatha’s most severe threat was to bind you to her permanently with a soul-link spell, tethering your life force to hers so escape would be impossible. “You are mine.” Yet, unbeknownst to you, she had already decided to cast it the moment she met you.

She frequently called you terms of endearment like “darling,” “my love,” or “pet.”

Agatha wanted you, and she would stop at nothing to ensure that you were entirely, irrevocably hers.

| Rio

As the personification of death, Rio saw you as someone destined to be hers. All living things would inevitably belong to her in the end, but she didn’t want to wait for that – she wanted you now and forever. Her obsession with you felt timeless, as if it had always existed, lying dormant until the moment it could finally flourish.

Rio preyed on your fear of mortality to keep you dependent on her, constantly reminding you how fleeting your life was and how frail you were compared to her eternal nature. “They’ll all leave you eventually. But me? I’ll always be here. Isn’t that what you want – someone who’ll always be here for you?” Her words burrowed into your mind, twisting your emotions until you could no longer tell if remaining by her side was truly your choice or hers.

When she was in a particularly indulgent mood, Rio could be achingly sweet with you, though her sweetness was always laced with a dangerous possessiveness. She would hold you as if you were the most fragile thing in the world, her hands cold but her touch inexplicably soothing. Yet in the same breath, she would whisper unsettling things like, “You're mine, sweetheart... forever and always. No one else can ever have you.”

Rio doesn’t tolerate anyone getting too close to you. She was convinced that she alone was worthy of being by your side. After all, she was inevitable, eternal – the one destined to claim your soul in the end.

If she perceived anyone as a threat to her claim over you, they had simply disappeared. When you confronted her about it, Rio’s dark eyes narrowed, and her voice carried a chilling warning: “I don’t like sharing. Do I need to remind you what happens when people overstep?”

If you dared to defy her, Rio would turn volatile. She would threaten to bring death to those you love or cause harm to innocent people, showing you the lengths she would go to keep you bound to her. She would make you feel like you were the one in the wrong, insisting that only you could “end her loneliness” or that no one else could ever understand her the way you do.

In extreme circumstances, Rio would remind you in a low, bone-chilling voice that no mortal can escape death – and by extension, her.

No matter how far you fled, no matter how cleverly you tried to hide, Rio would always find you. 

She didn’t just crave your love – it was deeper, darker than that. Rio demanded every piece of you, body and soul.

To her, you were the flickering light in an eternal void. You were her meaning, her obsession, her undoing.

| Agatha & Rio

God help you.

Agatha and Rio had both claimed you as their own. Neither of them could imagine a reality where you belonged to anyone but them, and each had made it clear that you were theirs and theirs alone. “You belong to me, just as you belong to her.” They would whisper, almost in sync.

Agatha’s possessiveness was passionate and fiery. She would often press herself against you, her hands grazing your arms or waist to remind you of her presence. Rio, on the other hand, had a more subtle approach – she would lean in close, her breath warm against your ear as she murmured soft, possessory words or let her fingers lightly trace the back of your neck.

Both Agatha and Rio were quick to notice any tiny change in your behavior. If you were quieter than usual, Agatha’s gaze sharpened, and she would press you for answers, “What’s wrong? Tell me.” Rio, however, will casually drape an arm around your shoulder, murmuring, “Who upset you? Just say the word.” Neither will rest until they know what’s troubling you and how to make it right.

Together, Agatha and Rio were a constant reminder that no matter where you go or what you do, you belonged to them and they’ll ensure that it stayed that way, forever.

[le-fruit-de-la-passion]

The Prophet spoke, and the faithful knelt - Viktor x Reader (Explicit)

You would never be a hero for Zaun, a revolutionary, a leader. But you would care for your prophet with every single breath your body would allow.

***

You couldn't remember the last time someone had looked at you with something other than disgust.

The bumps on your skin were large and deformed, like warts on a toad's back. Dark, unnatural purple spots had consumed most of your body, your veins glowing faintly inside your flesh. Staring at them, pulsating like worms making their way through your organs, still gave you unparalleled nausea. You were the kind of monster little children of Piltover feared in the shadowy corners of their bedroom, and you couldn't remember a time when it had been otherwise

The others like you all lived in small, crummy camps, where the warmth of a teared-up blanket was something worth killing your neighbour for. If the value of human life was close to none in Zaun, here, it was worth absolutely nothing.

A wasteland inside a wasteland.

Most lived off scraps left by bars; there were few other ways to get food. The familiar feeling of hunger digging its sharp claws into your stomach had never lessened. For water, there were only the thick metal pipes, going above to supply the golden city, which sometimes leaked drinkable but rusty liquid.

The best days, the only bearable days, were those where you found half-used needles of shimmer in the trash. For a few blissful hours, you were someone else, somewhere else, and nothing in the world could hurt you. Then it was back to being cold, hungry, and alone.

You had tried to live a semblance of a life, once, when the craving for shimmer hadn't been so all-consuming. But addicts were bad for business: customers didn't like seeing them, with their empty eyes and malformed bodies, and they were a very poor investment for an employer. How many months, or days, before they would abandon their job in favour of chasing their never-ending high?

Then there were the whore houses. One could get a few pieces of copper, if their body wasn't too ravaged by the drug. Damaged goods still sell, but for a fraction of the price. And yet there it was no better either: patrons would come in, use you, and leave, without ever looking you in the eye. Like you were less than human.

But not him.

He looked at you without ever flinching, without ever shying away. There was no sign of disgust or pity in those strange eyes of his, but an endless compassion, something that went beyond your comprehension. As if a simple glance at you had allowed him to read every corner of your soul.

You could have sworn time had stopped the second he locked eyes with you. In the warm amber of his pupils swayed a reflection of pale blue, like sunset on the ocean.

You had fallen to your knees without ever willing your body to do so, pressing your forehead against the cold gravel. It feels natural, almost instinctive, to bow in the presence of a god. For what other word could describe him, his presence, his aura?

Did someone like you, ugly, broken, filthy, deserve to see beauty like this?

A gentle hand brought your face back up towards the sky, lithe fingers tucked under your chin. Soft, so soft.

His eyes were back into yours, the sunset having morphed into a pool of liquid gold. Tears had begun to fall from your eyes, rolling down your scarred cheeks and onto his delicate hands. He shushed you before you attempted to speak, like he already knew whatever words you would tell him.

“It's alright. I will take care of you.”

The digits slid slowly across your face, impossibly smooth, and you couldn't help but nuzzle into the touch, revelling in the feeling of a sensation you had all but forgotten. He softly pushed the dirty hood off your face, hand settling on top of your matted hair. You closed your eyes; whatever this man was willing to give you, be it salvation or judgement, you simply knew you were ready to accept it.

And then, everything became light.

—

You saw him perform miracle after miracle following that day. He brought people back from the depths of hell, which they'd lived in for so long, with the simple touch of a hand. He brought back the smiles, the joy, and the hope all of you had given up on.

To your community, he was everything.

The familiar presence of his voice called for you inside your mind. It was so comforting, having him there, feeling him as a part of you. Knowing he would never leave you, that he would never let you be alone again.

He looked like a statue when you found him, seated in his cave, still and ethereal beyond your mortal comprehension. The gods had crafted his face from porcelain; his body from the world's most precious metals; his eyes from the sun and the sea; and his smile with the very essence of magic.

“Here you are. I was beginning to worry.”

That was not true; both of you knew very well you had heard his voice and were rushing to come to his side. Yet, the idea that a being such as him would worry about someone like you made butterflies flutter in your stomach.

“Herald?”

“Mm?”

He blinked, calmly, peacefully, as his eyes met yours once more. No other feeling compared. His pupils glowed inside the barely lit cave, a gentle and divine light emanating from his face.

The words were hard to get out, and you found yourself fidgeting with your hands, looking away from his perfect gaze.

Get a hold of yourself, you admonished your brain. You had practiced this moment more than once.

You were certain he knew exactly what you were about to ask him; he knew every thought going through your mind, after all. Which meant he knew of the nights you spent dreaming of him, of his body, and of the hundreds of ways you craved the touch of your messiah.

But he simply looked at you, calm and composed, the hint of a smile barely on his lips.

Briefly, you wondered if he was teasing you by letting you stew in your anxiety.

“I have come to realize,” you began unsurely, voice almost breaking, “that you always take care of others, Herald. Always take care of people like me.”

He observed you with that indecipherable ****gaze, still not moving an inch. You gathered all your courage to stare back at him as you pronounced your next words decidedly:

“But does nobody take care of you, Herald?”

He smiled, properly this time, yet still calm and moderate. It was beyond beautiful, his delicate features marked by soft dimples, the hint of a mole over his lips. You would have given your life in a heartbeat if it meant he would have smiled at you like this once more.

“I don't require such things anymore,” he explained serenely, fingers absentmindedly tracing the complex patterns of his arm. “This body doesn't feel cold, or hunger, or want. It is pure of all the desires the man I once was might have had.”

You swallowed with difficulty; was he rejecting your advances? You could not bear living without knowing you had done everything for him, given him every inch of your being.

“But that man,” you tried once more, moving a timid step forward, “he is still part of you, isn't he? Wouldn't it only be fair to take care of him too?’

There was not a hint of confusion in his expression; he understood exactly what you meant. Yet one of his eyebrows had slightly risen, perhaps of amusement or appreciation for your boldness.

“If you have something in mind,” he simply replied, his thick accent hypnotic, “you should show me.”

Your heart skipped a beat.

You would show him what his gift had meant to you.

Gradually, reverently, you approached the frugal throne where he sat, a simple rock formation at the back of the cave. You kneeled at his feet and gazed up, unsure if you were allowed to touch him. He gave you a light nod, a glim of endearment in his eyes.

With deference, you slid the fabric of his tunic to the side, parting his knees to give you access. You felt your cheeks heat at the realization he had no underwear, trepidation bubbling in your lower stomach. Then you stopped right in your tracks.

Where there should have been… something, there was nothing.

Your mouth opened in surprise, but no words managed to find their way out. You spluttered, confused, gaping at the being above you.

A low, small chuckle.

His luminous eyes were teasing, barely enough so that someone else would not have recognized it; but you did.

“I could not resist to watch your reaction,” he admitted, “My apologies.”

His delicate hand covered the area of his groan, and a faint light shone between the cracks of his fingers. The sound of metal forming, pieces sliding with one another, echoed inside the empty cave. When he removed his hand, it was as if the member had always been there.

As you had always pictured in your dreams, the Herald was well endowed, even in a softened state. It was without question like a regular human’s, but devoid of any veins, marks, and bumps. Not a single hair adorned the base. It was all perfectly smooth, the head only distinct from the rest of the length with its thickness.

He was art, in the most primordial sense of the term, and you could do nothing but admire him.

“This body shapes to my will,” the Herald explained at your look of awe, “It had no need for genitalia, so it did not have any. At least… before now.”

Your fingertips slid timidly on the indigo skin, feeling the polished texture. The contact felt pleasantly electric, like his body brimmed with untapped energy. The first small lick was somehow nostalgic, the feel of popping candies bursting pleasantly on your tongue.

When you wrapped your lips around him, you could immediately tell his taste was unlike anything you'd ever had before. The coppery flavour of metal mixed with something so enticingly sweet it could not be anything other than the taste of the arcane itself. An encouraging hand petted your head softly, fingers threading through strands of your hair. You moaned with your mouth still full of him; a single touch from him was enough to have your core burnt with want. You sped up your pace, taking as much of him in your mouth as you possibly could. The energy pulsated against your tongue, his cock hardening to your rhythmic pace. The thickness of his tip kept hitting the back of your throat, cutting oxygen for a few blissful milliseconds at a time and making you see stars.

It was perfect.

And yet, after a few minutes, you realized something was wrong.

You'd been with your fair share of men and women before. The twitching, the moaning, the cramping of the thighs from the building pleasure and the coming release- it was all absent.

You pulled back with a soft ‘pop’, looking up at your prophet once more for guidance. The same all-knowing visage stared back at you, that boundless compassion he had for all mankind. You understood what was happening, now.

“Herald,” you said slowly, voice horse from taking him, “why have you called me today?”

Silence. It looked as though he was thinking over his next words, choosing how best to explain things to you.

“I could sense you needed guidance,” he finally answered, “Support. I merely wanted to help in the way you needed me.”

Helping you. He was helping you once again. Even now, when you begged him to let you help him, he was still only thinking of others.

“You're not satisfied,” the Herald deduced from your crestfallen expression, “Why?”

Tears of frustrated devotion prickled the corner of your eyes, and you felt like a pathetically pouting child:

“My goal was not to satisfy myself. It was to please you.”

Perhaps you had dreamed it, but a glimmer of surprise flashed in his sunset gaze, gone too soon for you to ever be certain.

“Allow me to try once again, please. I will do better,” you requested, resting your head against his inner thigh, his cock still perfectly hard against your cheek. Looking up at him from under your eyelashes, you whispered your next words like a prayer, hoping it would reach him: “It is all I want to do from the deepest part of my heart.”

The smile again, so slight and yet so luminous. Perhaps he hadn't cured your addiction to shimmer, and had simply replaced it with the profound need of him. A drug you never wanted to be freed from.

“Very well,” he acquiesced, voice low, “you may do it again.”

This time, you could tell there was a genuine look of surprise in his neutral expression when you stood. ‘So he can't tell my thoughts immediately as I have them,’ you reflected silently. ‘I can use that.’

It was without asking that you made your way onto his lap, legs bent on both sides of his thighs. The position wasn't very comfortable, rocks digging into your knees; but he was so close to you that you felt the warmth of the arcane emanating from every pore of his body. The pleased look he gave you at your initiative made you feel emboldened, and you guided his cock to your entrance, lining yourself to slowly slide down on his length.

“I do not wish to interrupt,” the Herald made you pause, thick eyebrows furrowed in slight worry, “or to appear to stroke my ego, either. But I believe it would be wise to… prepare yourself, prior to taking me.”

You looked away in embarrassment, confidence fading, not wanting to reply directly. To explain how you had prepared yourself for him in your tent, in the slim hopes this moment might happen, would certainly be the death of you.

His eyebrows rose back up, the ghost of a smirk on his lips. He understood.

“I almost forgot how prepared you always are. Clever girl.”

You felt yourself tighten at the compliment. You committed the words to memory, engraving them in your mind forever. You would never forget when your Herald had praised you.

You patiently lowered yourself onto him, inch by inch, getting accustomed to him. A little shamefully, there was an undeniable selfishness of wanting this moment to last as long as possible.

When you took him whole, it was almost too overwhelming to bear.

His size was an undeniable component, both in length and girth. You had to wonder: had he been so big when he was but a regular man?

‘Yes’, a familiar voice supplied in your head. Had you not known better, you could have sworn his tone was slightly cocky.

But it wasn't just his dick, either. The flow of energy running through you from the point of your connection was dizzyingly intense, coherent thoughts barely stringing together. It felt like the high of shimmer but unbelievably more potent, simultaneously cutting you open and putting your body back together. This was being alive*.*

“Breathe,” he reminded you, a guiding hand sliding to the small of your back. Even now, he still took such good care of you. Overwhelmed tears had begun to fall down your eyes without you sensing their presence, and you tried to regain some semblance of your senses.

For a while, minutes, maybe hours, only the sound of your panting resonated through the cave. You gripped the Herald's shoulders tightly, scrunching the fabric of his tunic in your fists. His impartial expression never changed, but neither did the way his hand held you in place and comforted you. Once it felt as though your lungs were getting air again, you began moving.

All of it seemed like a dream; the feeling of fullness between your legs, the slow drag of his cock inside you, the warm wetness of your juices slipping out with each trust. If there was no heaven for sinners, then you had found your own right here. You picked up the pace, settling into a fast and wild rhythm. You scanned his features for any sign of disturbance; the slightest hint of red coloured his pale cheeks, the faintest laboured breath coming from his lips.

So he was still a bit human, after all.

You kept moving with renewed vigour, not able to contain wanton moans of pleasure.

“May I try something?” he asked, voice low, deeper than you had ever heard him speak.

You let out a sound of approval that dissolved into nonsense when the tip of his cock hit the spot you had carefully been avoiding. This time, he moved, ramming over and over against your cervix, too deep for comfort, shaping you to him and only him. You were so close, right on the edge, begging him for release with gibberish.

He had undeniably felt your incoming demise, and with one last push inside your core, he leaned his head forward, bringing both of your foreheads together.

In that moment, you were him as much as he was you, a single mind in perfect balance. You saw everything he saw, felt everything he felt. The weight and lightness of the cosmos, the thousands of strings connecting him to his followers, the understanding of the final step for humanity.

The Glorious Evolution.

And with that, you came, body spasming uncontrollably against his. You fell into the crook of his neck in exhaustion, sobbing, wondering if you had just died in your prophet's arms. Far away, as if he was in another room, you heard his comforting voice shushing your whines, his long fingers caressing your cheek. He looked at you as if you were the one to be admired. Too much, it was all too much.

Perhaps an eternity had passed as you came back to your senses. Things felt tangible once more, corporal, the now cold feeling of your wetness drying on your inner thighs. There was a feeling of awkwardness, of embarrassment, and you hesitated between staying still or pulling him out of you. Were there proper steps to follow after something like this, or any steps at all?

“You didn't…” you commented, unsure what proper term to use to not seem crass.

You didn't cum. You didn't fill me.

“I am not certain that would still be biologically possible for me,” he answered with little emotion, seemingly neither bothered nor frustrated by that fact.

Even if he hadn't been linked to your mind, your disappointment would have been palpable. You had wanted him to experience some of the relief he had given you, to release all that could have troubled him inside you. You wanted to care for him.

Selfishly, perhaps, there had also been the want to carry your prophet's seed so no one would ever question who you belonged to.

“However, to the extent this body can still feel pleasure…” he continued, not missing a beat, otherworldly gaze deep in yours, “you took great care of me. Thank you.”

This time, you smiled.

You would never be a hero for Zaun, a revolutionary, a leader. But you would care for your prophet with every single breath your body would allow.

And there was nothing more important to you than that.

[r-1-der]

warnings: i love her boobs, banter, a little dirty talk, cum eating, ab riding. might re-visit this later.

you nuzzled your face against her stomach, holding onto her sides, your tongue peeking out to lick over her toned midsection.

her hand found its way to your hair, using it to pull you up, but you swatted her away.

"quit that, let me admire you."

"i dont come to you to be 'admired'." she pulls you harsher, forcing you up. with a huff and a wince you straddle her stomach instead, underwear separating the two of you.

"i dont care what you come to me for," you say placing your hands down on her tits to squeeze them while you lioked down on her. her hair astray, long out of her old weak hairtie, her cheeks healthily flushed, and that dark lipstick smeared across her mouth and jaw.

"fuck... look at you, pretty."

sevika rolled her eyes at the name, not one for sweet-talk, though her warm hand pushed up against your stomach, gliding towards your chest, not an ounce of shame in her as she ogled you.

you smirked to yourself and pushed her hand away, earning yourself a raised eyebrow.

"really?"

"really. no touching."

"why do i bother coming here? remind me."

"your wallet is running dry, thats why. your girls at babettes might be pretty, but so are the pennies theyre worth."

she only closed her eyes as you continued playing with her chest, leaning down to lick and suck across her dark nipples, truly believing you were enjoying the sensation more than she was, even with her breathy sounds.

scratching your nails down her stomach you ground your hips down against her strong abdomen, letting her nipple go, leaving it wet and cold for sevika to, probably, grimace at.

you bit your lip as you looked down at her, even with her endless complaining she did look very content every time she landed herself in your old bed.

"...what are you doing?" she asks with furrowed brows.

"enjoying you," you say, your hips moving back and forth with languid movements over her muscles, sighing as your shoulders slump at the feeling.

"thats enjoyable to you?" she moved her hands again to drag them up your working thighs.

"its hot."

"it is?" they settled onto your hips with her question, her voice low as she spoke. she pushed and pulled against your motions, drawing you down tighter onto her abs, causing your mouth to fall open. "you going to cum like that?"

"mhm... yeah, mh, it was the plan," you say grinding against her stomach, eyes closed in concentration over the new sensation. it was different than her thigh, or her hand, or her face, or most importantly, her pussy. but still her and impossibly good as your hands gripped onto her.

"yeah? take your panties off." sevika tells you, slipping her fingers under the waistband. you didnt even brother to get off her to work them down your legs, the maneuvering was awkward at best, and you pretending you didnt notice it when you kicked her. eagerly you settled down against her again with a moan.

"good girl... so desperate to cum on me," she guided your movements.

"hah.. you want to talk about 'good girl'? always so eager to take my cum. just love to be covered in it, dont you?" you taunted with your ragged voice, it was too easy to get off with this woman, on this woman.

"its charity." a slap landed on your ass where she harshly grabbing it to pull you down harder onto her stupidly sculpted body, her tight stomach.

"oh fuck..."

you tipped your head back with a moan. it didnt take much work to have you cumming across the planes of her stomach, trembling on top of her as her already wet skin soaked in your cum.

she pulled you down to kiss across your cheek and down to your jaw, smearing her lipstick further onto you too. you slowly caught your breath laying on her as she kissed and sucked lightly onto your neck and jaw. it was an oddly intimate moment.

"you made a mess," she murmurs below your ear.

"you liked it," you murmur back.

"lick it up, since you want to hump me like a dog."

you bit your lip at her low command being delivered straight into your ear. the way down wasnt long by any means, though you took your time kissing a trail down her form. you faced the wet pool on her abs, smelling yourself.

"good..." she mumbles to the feeling of your warm tongue lapping up your own cum, knowing youd have your fill of hers later.

[kurokawaia]

DAY ONE - GUNPLAY 彡 Dazai Osamu

WARNINGS :: Port Mafia Boss Dazai!, x fem!reader, afab, yandere? dazai, controlling, Forced confinement, psychological manipulation, power imbalance, dark themes, dubious consent, overstimulation, gunplay, getting fucked by a gun on a desk, mean!dazai, slight choking, sucking the gun + more

| WC :: 2k+ | MDNI | 18+ | kinkmas m.list

You are afraid.

You are anticipating Dazai's reaction to your plea, but you presume it will always be the same answer. You can hear his cold voice in your ear, but only just barely. His straightforward response was, "No, Belladonna."

You hesitate, then raise your fist to knock softly on his large office doors. One idea kept coming up in your mind: you wouldn't want to disturb Dazai if he was working on anything significant. You wouldn't want him to treat you badly again if you were interrupting him when he was busy.

You were unaware that papers were spread all over his desk in that room as Dazai wrote on them, making a faint tapping sound as he did so. He was not in the mood for any shenanigans today, which was bad for you. His eyes were as cold as ever as he moved between the piles of paper.

To avoid disturbing him, you enter cautiously, quietly, and slowly. You had to take a deep breath and pause before you could approach any closer since the room was so quiet. The air of Dazai made you question everything. 

He had been leaving early in the morning and coming home later at night, this has been happening for days. Ever since the workload had upped, Dazai wasn't even acknowledging your presence anymore. 

You can't stand how isolated you feel. You need a break from being alone, only if he would come back home earlier, or even stay just five minutes longer so you could see him before he left. You need Dazai, despite everything he has done and is doing to you.

"Osamu," you say gently as you go up to him.

His eyes briefly meet yours before returning to the papers because he doesn't want to be bothered.

You bite your lower lip as he gives you a quick look, but you can't tell if he was upset with you or his job, so you try again. "Since you've spent the entire day here, how about we spend some time outside? Just for a walk?" you ask again in a quieter, more tender voice.

His pen pauses in the middle of a stroke, and as you watch his tongue run over his teeth within his mouth, a soft breath escapes your lips.

He asks again, "You... want to go outside?" "Um...Yes," you respond, fiddling with your fingers all while staring at the floor. "J-Just for a short while. It's not easy being locked up here."

You recoil when Dazai drops his pen against the wooden desk. His eyes lift to meet yours as he relaxes in his chair, as the intensity causes your heart to leap. You hated that you couldn't read his eyes because you never knew if what you said would be well received by him.

However, you thought... at that very moment... that he-

"What did I tell you about asking such things?" he asks you, his voice so rasping that it sends chills through your body.

Your heart skips a beat as you blink. "Osamu, I only thought-"

"You thought?" Dazai responds with a wicked smirk that lacks any warmth. "You thought that it would be alright to rebel against me?"

In a single motion, he gets up from his chair, as you notice how he grabs his weapon that is lying on his desk. As you watch his thin fingers wrap effortlessly around the metal, your breath stops in your throat.

You're afraid.

You quickly revolt, your voice shaking, "I wasn't going against you," as you back off a step while he slowly walks around the desk towards you.  

"You are questioning my authority. You want to go outside while you are not allowed. That, Belladonna, is disobedience," he says, his brown eyes narrowing on you as he gets closer and his proximity becomes restrictive. "You know what happens when you disobey me, don't you?"

Your breath catches when he grabs your wrist and jerks you forward to where you are pushed against his chest. His fingers dig into your skin, firm but not painful... yet.

"I told you before, didn't I?" he breathes quietly into your ear. "You do not have to think. You only need to listen." His body clashes against yours, as your heartbeat accelerates rapidly. His grip is just strong enough to make you wince. "I-I'm sorry, Osamu..."

"Sorry isn't enough." He turns you around and sets your back against the edge of the desk. His hand reaches up to wrap around your neck; it’s not a tight grasp, but it’s enough to keep you from moving as his hot breath hits your ear. "You need to learn that you’re not allowed to leave. And I’ll make sure you remember this lesson." His presence is overwhelming, and it causes your heart to pound. "I do this to protect you, Bella," he murmurs quietly, pressing his lips against the shell of your ear. "So don't make me punish you again after this."

His fingertips brush your cheek, seductively light, as he pulls away to look at you. "Now, let's get one thing straight." His gaze burns into yours. "You will never question me again. If you want to be safe, you will do what I say. Okay?"

"Yes," you say softly.

"Good," he purrs. "So..."

When the gun's head presses against your chest, your breath shortens. "O-Osamu..." you moan, your body shivering with every breath.

"Shhhh," Dazai whispers, his free hand holding the back of your head as he buries his face into your hair, inhaling your sweet cherry shampoo. "I'm not going to hurt you, just going to teach you a lesson."

You stand there for a minute more, your pulse beating and your thoughts racing as the gun travels down your breasts, eventually ending at your lower belly. Immediately, your hands grab Dazai's shoulders and crush your head into his chest.

"I am sorry, Osamu. "P-Please, I am so sorry," you sob into his chest.

A giggle escapes his lips, as the hand caressing your head now combs your hair in an almost relaxed manner. "I'm not going to hurt you," Dazai says, drawing back and kissing the top of your head. "Trust me, Bella."

His hand travels down to your skirt, tugging the zip, causing the pencil skirt to tumble down your waist and to the floor. Dazai's fingers pull beneath your G-strong, his middle fingers moving up your folds, and you helplessly cry, burying your face in his chest once more.

"See, darling, I'm not hurting you," he coos, surprised at how submissive you were to him.

"Feels good," you say breathlessly. "M-more." 

Dazai shoved the gun deeper into your flesh, but it traveled lower, to your pelvis, but you couldn't think about it; the pleasure was too intense to bear. He tugs your G-string to the side, taking in the lust that glistened everywhere, practically flowing down your thigh. "Of course...Oh, Bella... you're soaked."

You bit down hard on your bottom lip; you were experiencing too many sensations at once, and your legs were about to give out. Then you feel him pull your underwear down your legs, the black fabric slapping your ankles as you slide out of them. 

"Take your shirt... off," Dazai says gently, his breath burning on your ear.

He raises his free hand to gently grab your throat, pressing lightly and feeling your heartbeat against his palm. Dazai swallows the knot in his throat. God, he loves to feel your heartbeat throb against any part of her body. You are so simple to manipulate, and he adores you. You're great for him.

You unbutton the simple white blouse as softly as possible, feeling Dazai's smile on your lips. Then he gently drags the gun up to your chest, between your breasts, pulling his hand away from your mouth and tracking the cold metal up your throat till it brushes against your lips.

Your breath catches in your throat. Dazai smirks.

"Suck, Darling," he adds, pleased by your reaction; he could tell you were scared of what he intended to do.  

Little did you know that the gun's safety was turned on, and even if it wasn't, he'd make sure not to pull the trigger. He needs you in his life more than he lets on.

You reluctantly open your lips, allowing Dazai to carefully put the metal inside it. "Good girl," he compliments, seeing the tears well up in your eyes once more. 

The praise causes your cunt to throb and your heart to swell. You swirl your tongue over the gun tip to ensure that the barrel is soaked. Surprisingly, it wasn't as unpleasant as you expected; instead, you noticed that it was quite cold and that the flavor was clearly metallic, something you were unfamiliar with.

Dazai experimentally puts the pistol farther into your mouth, causing you to choke, and you grasp his blazer tighter. He was proud of you for choosing him over the air, and you made him wild.  

He takes the gun out of your mouth, and you breath quickly, savoring the way the oxygen filled your lungs before you coughed slightly. Dazai admires the stream of saliva that leads to the gun from your lips, just as if you were sucking his dick.

You gasp as you feel the point of the pistol touch up against your swollen clit, your hands tightening on Dazai. He begins to gather the excitement flowing from your cunt around the pistol, the metal rubbing across your folds as you helplessly groan at the strange feeling.

"'Samu," you hiccup. "Please.."

"Hmm? "Please what?" he responds.

When the point of the pistol pushes into your entrance, your eyes widen and your walls tighten around the metal. "M-More," you whimpered. "Please."

Of course, he agrees to your request since it is only a matter of time before you realize there is a pistol going to be shoved in and out of your cunt. Dazai starts working the gun in and out of your moist cunt, watching your excitement flow down the pistol and onto the floor.   

"You're loving this, Bella, aren't you?" Dazai hums, angling the pistol to precisely strike your sweet spot. "My gun in your cunt," he says quietly, knowing what the reaction will be.

Tears puddle at your lash line; you'd be screwed if he pulled the trigger. You wouldn't put it beyond him; he'd let you to bleed out on the floor, and he'd probably enjoy it. But... he loves his gorgeous Belladonna so much that he couldn't let you go till you died. 

"Please, don't," you sob, both with pleasure and terror of being shot.

"Please what?"

"Please don't kill me," you begged.

"I would never, Bella," he says, slipping his tongue between your lips. "Just making you feel good." 

He accelerates the pace at which he is shoving the pistol, and you groan into his lips as he puts you on his desk. You were completely overwhelmed by all of your senses: his gun within you, his kissing you, and the way his hand was around your throat.

Dazai angles the pistol so he can toy with your clit while pumping the gun in and out of you, and you can't hold it for long. The coil in your gut was tightening, and you were not going to wait.

"Please, Osamu," you begged. "N-Need to come, please."

"Wait a little longer, or maybe I will just pull the trigger," he mutters into your mouth.

"N-No," you whimpered. "Please, I just' want to come, please, 'Samu."

"Alright," Dazai responds, thrusting the pistol farther into your cunt, which has tightened even more until you rip away from the kiss and fling your head back, a loud groan exiting your mouth. Your cum poured all over his palm and desk, soaking the paper underneath. 

"You know," he says quietly, "I push you because I need you to understand... no one else can keep you safe like I can." His thumb brushed against your lower lip. "This world is far too dangerous for you to be anything less than strong."

"I know I'm rough with you sometimes," he acknowledges. "But I can't afford to lose you. Not in a world like this. You are mine, and I do not share what is mine. And the gun's safety was turned on."

"The safety was on..." you mutter in surprise.

Do not steal, copy, modify, translate or use for ai Reblogs only!

taglist :: @love-eien @enouche @dreaddful @Manjiro0sano

@yanakurokawaaa @null-zero-0 @princesstiti14 @bontensbabygirl

@mitsuyas-version @kxrfie @clobiss @berrilybibi @Tvbox_098

@lightshowerrr @fullwriterpoemp

[sweetflanfiction]

Asymmetrical Symphony - Part 2

Universe: Arcane (LOL)

Pairing: Viktor x reader

Summary: You had been on the rooftop with Jayce and the Herald and somehow you were sent to a place where things can be different with your help

Disclaimers and Warnings: If you want me to tag you on the chapters let me know! Also leave a comment with your thoughts :D Not finished, not proofread. English isn't my 1st language. All I know about LOL is from google and all I know about Arcane is taken from the show, so inacuracies will be plenty. I have a sort of idea on how to I'm gonna go with magic and runes, so bear with me. The reader will be written and GN (going by they/them) to get everyone involved, but if you see any discrepancies let me know.

A.N.: Thank you for the fav and comments!! This chapter isn't gonna have much Viktor in it, but I'm just starting to estabelish some things and get the ball rolling. I'll try and update more Vik x you as quick as possible. :D

Part 1

• ··········· • ············ •

The world was spiraling around you. Noises of the past, the present, of another version of the world, blurred and mixed into a weirdly misshapen music. You tried to stop it, pause the song to figure out what’s what. Pull a thread to focus on something, to ground yourself. You inhaled air into your lungs and then expelled it. Every time you breathed out, the sounds became less confusing, like an orchestra finding itself following the maestro. In the end, only the quick buzzing of the world around you was left, as it settled down in a place and time.

You dazedly opened your eyes to a bright ball of light right before you and someone’s hand on your forehead. The sudden memory of the Hex Angel standing on top of you, extracting your soul from your body, flooded your senses, and you had to get away.

Quickly sitting upright, you shoved the construct away, watching with dread as the angel fell and stood up with ease. Their hands up in mock surrender, the mask emotionless.

“Calm down.” It said, with the familiar accent of a friend. “You’re safe.”

“Vik-Viktor stop…” You mumbled at the thing while it tilted its head at you. “Please”

It kept coming closer, its movements slow and deliberate, palms up to you as if it were approaching a scared animal.

In the haziness of trying to get away from it as fast as possible, you felt the ground give away under you, and once more, you were snapped back to focus when you landed on something hard.

The sound that left your lips was less than elegant as your back hit the cold, hard floor. Your body is now fully awakened to every scratch, bruise, and wound.

The first thing you noticed, as you tried to will the pain away, was the hard, smooth surface under your fingertips. Ceramics, cold hard ceramics. You turned your head and opened your eyes to a wall of floor-to-ceiling tiles, arranged in soothing colors. 

You frowned at the familiar sense of the place.

Tilting your head backward, the minty-colored fold screen was unsurprisingly standing between gurneys, confirming where you were. Pilltover’s General Hospital.

And by the present company, maybe you had gone back to your time? Maybe forward? It didn’t make sense if they were here while you still looked human... something happened... Did you change anything that made the HexAngels different? 

The sound of footsteps clicking on the floor was enough to get your mind back to the situation at hand. You tried to move, but something was grabbing your extended arm.

Your gaze followed the extent of your arm until it reached a cuffed wrist. Your cuffed wrist. They had cuffed your arm to the bed. You pulled at the restraint, testing it. It rattled but didn’t open, as expected.

“It’s alright…” The Herald’s modified voice scrambled into a warm woman's tone, its footsteps coming closer and closer.

That’s new. You snapped your neck to the voice, inching as far as you could from it. 

The shape that appeared from behind the bed shifted from an abnormally beautiful construct to a tall and thin nurse. 

“What the…” You looked at her face. A smile plastered on her face, hands stretched toward you. “Where am I?”

She gave the expected answer, but she did not understand the depth of your question. 

“Why am I cuffed to the bed?” You asked, not moving from your seat on the floor, your backside becoming cold under the hospital gown.

“Officer Caitlyn wants to speak with you. You were found unconscious in the rubble of the attack.” The nurse went to grab you, and you swatted her hand as your vision layered her hand with a gold claw. She frowned.

“The rocket attack..." You mumbled, and she nodded.

“Quite the spectacle. If it had been in the Lanes, nobody would care.” She whispered, but you heard her.

“People died." You snapped, her eyes locking with yours.

“People die every day.” Her face contorted into a scowl, and you noticed a familiar accent in her speech, hidden behind the effort to sound Pilltovian. She’s from the Undercity.

You looked her in the eyes, and her indifference was palpable. She moved to grab you, but instead, she held her arm out. 

“Come on, let’s get you back in bed.”

You wrapped your free hand on the forearm and pulled yourself up, towering over her.

“There we go.” She patted the bed, and you complied, sitting on it. She stood in front of you, grabbing a tiny silver flashlight from her pocket and lifting it with one hand while the other went towards your face.

Reality shifted, and once again her hand transformed into a golden claw with white fingers. You swatted it away and moved your face out of reach.

“No touching?” She asked, and you nodded, her following your movement a second later. “Very well. But I need to check you.”

You felt the corners of your lips turn up at her sass. With the faint accent, it was like you were back at the Talis Lab.

“I’m fine.” you said, and she rolled her eyes.

“You survived a rocket hit to the head. Trust me, you are fine because we gave you drugs.”

She instructed you to pull your lower eyelids down, pull at your cheeks, and even gave you the tongue suppressor to look at the back of your throat.

"Just don’t touch the face.” 

“Very well, then you have to do it.”

“You seem very comfortable around someone in cuffs.” You told her as she gently peeled the gauze from a wound in your arm.

“People talk. From what’s been going around, you ran into the figurative building on fire. Sure, you knocked around a few enforcers, but sometimes they do need some sense knocked into them.” 

You enjoyed it as her accent became more and more pronounced the more she talked. Memories of good old times flooded your mind when another Undercity crossover would talk your ear off as you fine-tuned your instrument. You knew that accent by heart, even mocking him by mimicking it.

“How long ago did you cross the bridge?” You whispered, not wanting to divulge that information to the world. She raised an eyebrow.

“A few years back, before nursing school.” She kept choking your wounds. “How did you figure it out?”

“The way you speak. I knew…know…knew someone, a friend, a close friend who spoke like that. They were…are…from the other side as well.” You cleared your throat and gave her your best Viktor impression. “If you don’t succeed at first, you must try again, after hiding the evidence, of course."

You both fell into a comfortable silence, her checking your wounds and you reminiscing about the old days.

“That’s pretty good, actually. People here judge on sound alone. I’ve been hiding it for years, and you caught it in minutes.” She grinned.

“It does take practice and a good ear.” 

“You.” She grinned. “Councilor Medarda, Councillor Talis, Councillor Shoola, and Councillor Salo.”

“When was the attack?” You asked suddenly, and she looked up from examining your ankle.

“Two nights.”

“What time is it now?” 

“7 AM.”

“Who survived?”

Your ears drowned with the sound of your heartbeat. Did you go through all of this for this to end up the same way? Were you going to lose your friend again?

"Ah, yes, someone else was found in the rubble.” Your eyes snapped open as she got up from her crouched position. “The other Hextech founder... What’s his face? Lanky, tall, always standing behind Councilor Talis.

"Viktor?” You whispered, and she nodded.

“Yes, that one.”

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. He is alive. For now. The calmness you had from the news was quickly replaced by another violent attack soon.

“Did they announce the remembrance speech day?” You asked quickly.

“I don’t think they even announced the public funeral dates, let alone announce the speech day.” She scribbled something on the board at the foot of your bed. “Well, my job here is done. I hope they go easy on you.”

She nodded, and you nodded back, turning to lay back down on the bed.

You had to figure out a way to stop that speech day. Or stop Mel, Jayce, and Viktor from attending, which would be impossible since Mel would be the one giving out the speech and Jayce was going to follow Mel and Viktor was going to follow Jayce. Or be made to, since these types of events were far from his favorite thing.

Time traveling is complicated, especially when nobody seems to know you.

You frowned. Why did nobody know you? I mean, the enforcers at the hexgate sure, but the ones in the Academy? You were practically a light fixture there, with the amount of time you spent inside.

And then it hit you like a rocket. They didn’t know you because you either didn’t exist or had a completely other life. So there was another possibility to your whole existence in this place. You could have time traveled, yes, but what was stopping whatever did this to you from making you jump through time and space?

What if this was another dimension, another universe, another timeline? What if the gods or whoever was trying to add variants to the timeline and see what got them the best results? 

Your head was about to explode with this new information. Being cuffed to this bed in this brightly lit room was not helping the situation either.

You needed to get out. Without knowing what was the catalyst in this universe for the rise of the Herald, you couldn't stop it. You could warn Viktor; what better way to stop him from himself if he knew the consequences? But what if warning him was exactly what made him go through with it? His magnum opus actually worked for better or worse.

Introducing a single keystroke of a sonata could change the whole tune. You had to warn him, discreetly. Which you couldn’t because you were cuffed to a bed.

Reality moved, and for the first time since it did, you focused on it. It felt like when you’d be in the lab and you could feel a spark of something in the wrong place, waiting for the right circumstance to zap. Another whisper. A soundless gasp reverberated around you. The sound of metal vibrating as it’s struck made waves around you, like a stone that hit the water. 

You managed to decipher, in between the waves, a new rune. 

Whatever powers were drip-feeding you, these runes hadn’t failed you yet. You looked around for a pen, a dusty surface. Nothing. You looked at the hand with the rune scarred into it. Nothing.

You looked at the side table. A glass of water. You tilted it on the table, but as you drew the rune, you watched as it became disfigured. The water wasn’t keeping its shape on the flat surface.

Quickly, you patted the side of your bedding down, making it as smooth as possible. When it was flat enough, you dipped your fingers in the water and drew the rune on the sheet.

Stop the attack. Flick. Nothing.

Did you need it to be broader or more detailed? You tried again.

You flailed your hands around in frustration. The rattling of the cuff on the metal side of the bed echoing around is this wrapped reality. 

Save Piltover. Flick. Nothing

Stop the Herald. Flick. Nothing

"Just unlock, you piece of—"

Growing frustrated, you punched the rune. Something clicked, and your hand was freed.

The world got back to normal, and you inspected your wrist, your gaze shifting from your wrist to the cuff. 

You shook your head to clear it and immediately made your way out of the bed, limping your way out of the six-bed infirmary. Some of the orderlies looked at you sharply, but with the attack they seemed to have their hands full, choosing to effectively ignore you. 

You grabbed someone’s jacket from the foot of a bed and put it on, thanking the gods they had kept your socks on.

The hospital was crowded, and you took that opportunity to make your way towards the exit. You kept your walk brisk and your head down, trying to walk around everything and everybody. Your heart was at your throat. Sneaking was never your forte; the last time you did, your father caught you halfway out the gates of the manor. You sighed, remembering the way he made fun of you more than argued. Footsteps light as a cannonball. You were usually the distraction for the sneaking, being the preferred go-to person for when the boys wanted to sneak a particular piece of equipment into the lab and didn’t need anyone to know. Especially Heimerdinger.

Forgetting your misadventures for a moment, you look up and see the glass doors, and beyond them the street. A couple of more steps. You quickened your pace, breaking into a small, limping run towards the doors.

The fresh air made you stop as it hit you in the face and you realized how damp and dense the air in the hospital was. You took a deep breath and started to make your way towards the sidewalk, looking up at the street, trying to map in your head the easiest way to get to the Academy, maybe even Viktor’s apartment, and if both failed, the Skyward Clinic, the topside private hospital. If any of them was hurt, that's where they would place them.

With your route mentally traced, you turned around to go down the correct route when something—or better, someone—made you stop dead in your tracks.

The Sheriff of Piltover to be, Caitlyn Kiraman, was standing right behind you. One eyebrow raised, arms crossed, eyes red and puffy. The scowl on her face contorting her pretty features.

You are about to run in the other direction, knowing that getting sent to jail would not help in your 'save-Piltover-from-the-Hextech-co-creator-genius-by-saving-said-Hextech-co-creator-genius’ plan when you feel the presence of two people behind you.

“I am not in the mood for games,” Caitlyn said, her voice matching her rigid stance. “If you are well enough to walk, you are well enough to talk. I can bring you in conscious or not. Your choice.”

“Why am I being arrested?” You asked, knowing full well that the trail of unconscious enforcers you left behind two days ago wasn’t exactly lawful.

She simply nodded to the enforcers behind you. They grabbed your arms unceremoniously and cuffed you, shoving you in the back of an Enforcer van.

············ • ············

Groaning, you rest your forehead on the table, the cool temperature of the metal helping the headache. You are sitting inside a concrete room, with your hands cuffed to the table. Caitlyn had left you there to stew.

"I'll be back... eventually." She had spat as she closed and locked the door.

With nothing but time to think, you went through your magic runes. With a limited range of motion, you started by drawing them on the dusty table without any intent for them, pushing them out with a tap of your finger.

Move. Tap. A miniscule part of the table seemed to become liquid, like you had thrown a pebble into a calm river, but nothing shifted or moved.

Unlock. Tap. Both of the cuffs and the door behind you clicked open, and you slowly looked between them.

Before you could get up and walk out, the door slammed open with a very puzzled Caitlyn standing just outside. She looked at the door and then you. Shrugging, you turned back to the table, quickly clicking your wrists together to reclose the cuffs.

“Who are you?” She asked, dismissing whatever thought she had previously.

You answer with your name. First and last.

“Adding ‘identity theft’ to your crimes isn’t going to help you. Who are you?”

Nodding your sighed content. If it’s identity theft, then there is someone with that name. Maybe you’d meet yourself and the dimension would implode. Or they could help you. 

“I would like to speak with my father, Counsellor Rainemour.”

Cailyn raised an eyebrow at your question, setting the folder down and watching you with hawk eyes.

You opened your mouth to answer but didn’t know how to. So, you repeated your name. She groaned and sat down in front of you.

“There is no Counsellor Rainemour.” She stated,coldly.

“But the Rainemours are in Piltover, yes?”

“Enough with this! Who are you? The truth! Now!”

And finally the penny dropped. The reason why it was Caitlyn who was questioning you. She had been such a normal face to talk to, to look at, to bounce ideas with, that it didn’t dawn on you why she was the one talking to you now. The daughter and soon-to-be head of the Kiraman family. She thought you had something to do with the rocket attack.

“Do you know who Jinx is?”

"No.” you lied.

“Do you have anything to do with the attack on the Council of Piltover?”

“Ah… That’s why it’s you. No…”

“Trespassing on government grounds, assaulting several officers of the law, entering a governmental space without authorization, and last but not least involvement in the rocket attack that left several of the councilors dead or injured.”

“Then what were you doing in the council room?”

“I was trying to warn the councilors about it.”

“So you knew about it,” she shot quickly.

“Knowing of a crime and being involved in it are two very different things.” You fired back. “Why am I being arrested?”

You looked at her and made sure she was looking at you, seeing the frown grow deeper as you raised an eyebrow.

Counselor Rainemour liked to argue. He was a lawyer; his whole life was about arguing. Whether it was about Piltover's government or about the ant's right to the sugar in the house. And you loved to argue back. You not only had the patience but also the stubbornness and willingness to argue with your father. You never won, but you also absorbed anything he gave you. Laws, regulations, how the system worked—you were a sponge. If for nothing else, to use it in a following discussion.

“First, I never intended to trespass. I didn't even know I was trespassing. If you don’t know who I am, then I am not in the Piltover's identification system, which means I am not from Piltover. I took a wrong turn.” You leaned back into the chair, the pride and arrogance of a Topsider dripping on every word. You hated to admit this, but sometimes you missed being this person.

“And ended up inside our most complex method of transportation?” She shot back.

“I’m a visitor; how do I know what the inside of the most complex method of transportation in Piltover looks like?”

“You are not a visitor.” She spat and sat down. “It took you 4 minutes and 45 seconds to go from the top floor of the Gate to the Council room. You took shortcuts and straight lines toward the Academy. You are not a visitor.”

You shrugged at her humorless grin. 

“Circumstantial, I may just have a very good sense of direction.” She was about to open her mouth, and you raised a finger. "Secondly, the only officer I assaulted was the one at the gate, and technically it could be considered self-defense. I was confused. He was shoving me. I got scared. He was a very intimidating figure.”

Some part of you was proud to be deflecting all of this; the other knew Caitlyn wouldn’t just forgive and forget. If you got out with even so much as a fine, she would hunt you down.

“What about the other ones?” She gritted her teeth and leaned forward.

“What other ones? I didn’t touch anybody else. Ask them. For all we know, they tripped and fell.”

“Third: "Forcibly" already indicates that it lacked authorization or consent to do whatever you are accusing me of. However...” Now the big finale. “Page 450 of the Piltover’s Government Guidelines, City Emergency chapter, 1st paragraph: any citizen of Piltover is allowed unauthorized entrance to the council chamber if the need to inform the council of a threat to the city is urgent and cannot be delayed. This entrance can be done even if the council is in session.”

You took a little pride in remembering this little snippet. Even if the reason you knew it was not because of your father. In fact, you knew it because Viktor had once made a miscalculation on a hextech concept that Jayce was about to present to the council. So he had burst into the room to try and warn their friend mid-session.

Turns out, saving your friend's face from total academic embarrassment is not a threat to the city.

“You must be really stupid.” At the insult, you narrowed your eyes. "Going on and on with your technicalities, knowing I can use it against you.”

There was one insult that had always made your blood boil. Stupid. You could be called dumb, ditzy, or unintelligent. Anything but stupid. Your Caitlyn knew that; your Caitlyn was the first to punch someone when they did it.

“My father is a lawyer, Miss Kiraman.” Your face turned cold, your tone hard. The shift was enough to make Caitlyn’s eyebrows go up for a millisecond. “He thrived on technicalities. And you can’t use shit from what I just said. You didn’t read me my rights. Nothing I said since you stepped foot in the room can or will be used against me. This…” You pointed between the two of you. “Is nothing more than two friends catching up. Your grief is clouding your judgment.”

For a second, the tension was as loud as a trumpet, and the silence was as thick as a fog. Caitlyn slammed her hands on the table and leaned into it, getting her face an inch away from yours, only to be stopped by someone shoving the door open.

“What are you doing, Miss Kiraman?” An unfamiliar female voice announced from behind you.

············ • ············

Viktor didn’t believe in luck. 

Because if he did, all his accomplishments could have been derived from it. So he just didn’t believe in it much. Sure, maybe finding some coins on the floor was luck, but not much more than that.

Everything he did and does is to make sure nothing is left to luck or chance. Every number on the blackboard, every calculation on his blueprints.

But now, standing in the middle of the destroyed council room, Viktor felt lucky. Extremely lucky.

• ··········· • ············ •

@marshy-moo @victormydarling @blueesmiski @th3stup1dcat @22carolina08 @httpstes @adithsaley @that-one-shitty-blog @disa-pointment @sseleniaa

[lovesick-desires]

A CRACK IN THE HOURGLASS

YANDERE!EKKO X SELFLESS!READER

CONTENT WARNINGS: season 2 spoilers, gender neutral reader, yandere behavior, manipulation, mentions of depression, mentions of death, murder, drugging, kidnapping, violence, guns, reader gets injured, ekko gets angry, swearing, mild dubious kissing, slightly rushed ending (sorry) WORD COUNT: 3.6k+ EKKO'S YANDERE ARCHETYPE: overprotective

Ekko is someone who has lost a lot in his life. His father figure, his friends, his childhood. Loss was something Ekko had grown accustomed to living in the Undercity as death was as common as the sun rising each day: inevitable and unremarkable, yet leaving an impact on those who bare witness to it. At a young age, he had learned that he could not prevent death as it was a cold, unforgiving force. But when it came to the people he cared for, he sure as hell tried.

Since the death of Jinx, Ekko had lost himself and fell into a bought of depression as he felt his efforts to protect those he cared for were all for naught. After all, that was the reason he started the Firelights in the first place: to keep people safe. Yet, at every turn, it feels like he has failed them all.

Until you came around.

You were one of the people Ekko and the firelights took in amidst the final battle. You tried your best to help the others unlike most who were taking refuge or advantage of the Firelight's kindness. You would assist in the soup kitchen to help feed the others. You would comfort people who had lost their homes, loved ones, and more. You were there to help and help you did.

Ekko didn't notice you at first, but when he did, he was taken aback that someone actually cared enough to lift a weight of the Firelights' shoulders and not just take advantage of the free shelter and food. It was a fresh change of pace from the usual Zaunites who would exploit anything. When spotting you sitting up against the tree, he reluctantly decided to approach you as a heart of gold like yours was very uncommon in a place like the Undercity.

"Umm, hey, aren't you the one who helped in the soup kitchen last week?" Ekko queried, shifting on his feet with his hands in his pockets. To this, you gazed over at the head of the Firelights and nodded softly, confirming his suspicions.

"Yeah, that was me. What about it?" You responded, shifting your body to face Ekko as he sits next to you.

"I guess I just wanted to thank you. Not many people helped us and I appreciate you stepping up, y'know?" The boy savior spoke, cocking his head to the side ever-so-slightly. This elicited a soft smile to spread across your lips.

"It's really no problem. It's the least I could do." You rambled, putting your hands together in your lap.

That was how you sealed your fate without even knowing it. You two talked for hours whilst being dappled by the sun's golden light through the tree canopy. The way those spots of light decorated you: your skin, your hair, your face. Everything about you seemed to draw Ekko in, making him want more.

These meetings under the tree become common place for you two where you would idly chat away about your experiences, your lives, your troubles. It was something Ekko enjoyed very much as it gave him something to look forward too after a long day or a mission.

It gave him something to live for, something to protect.

You.

One day, while the sun began to set, you two chatted under the tree as always, until you sprung something onto Ekko that would forever change the trajectory of both of your lives.

"Hey, Ekko, I was thinking and I wanted to run something by you." You explaining, grabbing his attention from the kids playing in the grass.

"Hmm? What's up?" Ekko acknowledged, looking at them with a raised brow.

"I watch the firelights come and go all the time and you tell me about how amazing your adventures are and I was thinking... How does one become a Firelight?" You questioned, making the blood in Ekko's veins run cold. He didn't want you to be in the way of danger like how he does every day. He wants you to be safe right here in his little sliver of paradise. He knew he had to sway you against it.

"No, no, absolutely not." Ekko retorted curtly, his brow furrowed as he looked back out at the children playing.

"Why not?" You shot back, adjusting your posture to look more serious.

"The job is tedious and not just fun. It comes with risk, responsibility, and danger. Danger that I would rather not put you in." Ekko addressed, putting his elbows on his knees.

"Ekko, I am not a child." You responded, bending forward to try and get him to look at you.

"I am aware of that but it takes guts to do what we do." Ekko responded, trying to push you away from the idea of being a Firelight for his own sake.

"I am willing to do whatever it takes. Please, just give me a chance." You begged, gently putting your hand over his. This immediately garnered Ekko's attention as a zephyr blew by, rustling his locks and the foliage around the two. Reluctantly, Ekko removed his hand only to place it on top of yours. He knew you wouldn't let him just blow this off and he had to give you a real chance.

"...Are you positive you want this?" Ekko muttered, rubbing his thumb over the dorsum of your hand.

"Positive. I want to help people, Ekko. I want to help you." You proclaimed with passion evident in your tone.

"Alright, but only if you promise me you won't get hurt. I couldn't imagine what I'd do if something bad happened to you." Ekko relented, looking back at you with worried eyes.

"I'll try my best, okay? I promise." You spoke softly, your lips spreading into a soft smile.

"Don't worry, I'll protect ya." Ekko joked, playfully elbowing their side.

And that was how you learned not to make promises you couldn't keep.

When you began your training, Ekko was hard on you to hope you would drop wanting to be a Firelight before getting you in any actual danger. However, you were stubborn and prevailed even his expectations of you. He was genuinely impressed and mistakenly let his guard down, thinking you'd become a great aspect to the Firelights and that you would get to spend more time with him on missions.

However, that all changed.

It was your first mission and Ekko finally gave you your mask and hoverboard, ready to let you go with him on your first mission. It was a great accomplishment to both of you until you two and the other Firelights actually got to the shimmer shipment. It was an ambush with a fake shipment to lure in the Firelights by shimmer makers down in the Lanes. Guns were blasting, punches were thrown, and blood was spilled.

In the midst of the carnage, you had noticed a comrade down with a sprained ankle and a henchman had a gun pointed at him. You didn't think, you just acted. Flying over on your board, you attempt to knock the gun out of the henchman's hand only to get a bullet to the shoulder. You cried out in pain and collapsed off the board to the grimy pavement, rolling into a brick wall with an 'umphf'.

When Ekko saw this going down, he froze. He swore to protect them and now he was going to lose someone else. No. No, he would not let this happen. Never again would he let you get hurt. He refused to even think about the possibility of having to paint your face on that mural. Soaring over, Ekko bashed in the head of the man who shot you, his rage overwhelming. A soft grunt caught his attention amidst his thoughts, only for him to see you trying to get up.

"Y/N!" Ekko cried out as he got off his board, running over to you. Seeing you laying their with your hand over your shoulder made him furious.

"Ekko..." You rasped in a groan that elicited from their throat. Ekko pried their hand from the wound, examining it. From what Ekko could see under the mess of sanguine, he knew it was bad and had to get them back to the medics.

"I'm taking you back to base." He proclaimed as he scooped you up into his arms. Too pain ridden to resist, you just let him. As Ekko gets on his board, he signals for the others to retreat before soaring back to base. For the whole ride home, Ekko is a mess, repeatedly asking you if you are okay with tears brimming his eyes. He refuses to lose you, he just can't lose you. You are all that's in his psyche. Images of you laughing, smiling and training with him flood his mind as his hands felt numb and prickly from the panic in his nerves. The feeling of your skin against his is the only thing keeping him from collapsing into sobs. He wants to be strong for you. He needs to be strong.

Once back at the Firelight base, he rushes you to the medic tent to get your bullet wound attended to. The whole time, he is praying to whatever god that is out there that you make it. He couldn't fathom losing you. You would not be joining the others on that mural.

After you were finally stabilized, Ekko felt a wave of relief course through his body. You were going to be okay. However, this was quickly followed by anger. Why did you jump in front of that goon to save someone else? Do you have any idea how badly that would hurt him to lose you? Did you really want to be a martyr and leave him behind? Ekko felt the anger boiling under his skin as he watched you get treated by a medic. Once the medic left the room, Ekko rose from his chair, looking down at you with a scowl.

"You promised me you wouldn't get hurt!" Ekko growled, crossing his arms.

"I... I couldn't help it—"

"Bullshit, you dove in front of an enemy's bullet." Ekko interjected, recounting the event that landed you in this situation.

"To save another firelight, Ek—"

"I don't give a fuck!" Ekko snapped as he interjected again, his hands trembling with anger. Noticing your fear from his sudden outburst, he took a deep breath and tried to simmer down as he ran his fingers through his hair. "Look, what you did could have killed you and I wasn't able to protect you!" He added, his voice shaking with anger.

"Did you want me to just let him die?" You asked, sitting up in the cot.

"Yes!" He proclaimed, shocking you with his statement. Realizing his crossed the line again, he sighed and sat back in the chair with a grunt, putting his head in his hands. "I'm sorry but I would have rather you let that Firelight die than let yourself get hurt. Now look at you, you have a bullet wound in your shoulder because you decided to be reckless." He continued as he rubbed his temples, trying to calm himself down.

"Ekko—"

"Y'know what? No, I can't let you risk getting hurt again. Do you have any idea how important you are to me?" Ekko spoke, rising from his seat once more as he snagged your mask off your face.

"What are you doing?" You retorted, your worried eyes meeting his.

"Undoing my mistake." He stated, putting the mask in his bag with a grunt.

"Ekko, you cannot be serious." You murmured, adjusted your sitting.

"Dead serious, I'm revoking you of your Firelight position." Ekko retorted, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"For saving a comrade's life?" You questioned, raising a brow in confusion.

"For almost getting yourself killed. Do you have any idea how close that bullet was to hitting your head? Too close." He spoke, gesturing to the bullet wound left in your shoulder. To this, you began to try and get out of bed only for Ekko to place a firm hand on your sternum, pushing you back to the bed firmly but not roughly. "No, stay in that bed, don't you dare try and get up, you're only gonna hurt yourself more." He supplemented, his anger subsiding into concern.

"I can't believe you're doing this." You uttered with a defeated tone to your voice, looking up at him.

"I am doing this to keep you safe." Ekko elaborated before removing his hand from your sternum, standing up straight.

"You told me risk is part of the job and that it takes guts." You remarked, your eyes narrowing at the Firelight leader.

"Well, I was stupid to let you risk your life. I don't need your blood on your hands. I've lost enough people in my life, I'm not going to lose you too." Ekko shot back, adjusting the bag strap on his shoulder. You looked up at him with a crestfallen expression, much to Ekko's dismay. "Look, I can't let you hurt yourself or let you get killed. You're too risky to be a Firelight. I'm sorry, but it's for your own good. I'll be back to check on you at sunrise, okay?" He added as he went to leave the room. He gave you one look back to see your saddened face before reluctantly departing, knowing what he was doing was best for them.

However, the night was restless for Ekko. He tossed and turned in his bed as the event of you being shot plays in a loop in his mind. Your cry in pain rings in his ears like nails on a chalkboard. He could not stop thinking about him holding you in his arms as he flew home on his board. The look of pain in your eyes haunted him as he laid there restless. He knew he could never let you face battle again, let alone anything that could hurt you. You were too precious to him, too precious to lose. You were reckless with your life and his heart. He knew you were an unintentional danger to yourself and he had to make sure that pain became a stranger to you. Pain was not worthy of haunting your body. It didn't deserve you.

Ekko was going to make sure you never ached again. Not if he could help it.

The sun rose through the blinds on Ekko's window, momentarily blinding him as he opened his bleary eyes. His body ached for more sleep, yet he was restless as he woke, wanting to see you.

So he did.

For the next three days, he visited you even though you were upset with him for revoking your stance in the Firelights. He did what was best for you. He knows what is best for you. You just have to trust him. Slowly, you begin to calm down over the incident and listened to him. After the next few days, you were released from the medical bay and able to go back to your day to day life. Ekko was there when you got the okay to go back home. However, Ekko had plans for you once you got discharged and it was just for the best. As you got ready to leave, Ekko placed a gentle hand on your non-wounded shoulder.

"Hey, I want to apologize for my outburst a few days ago." He spoke solemnly, seemingly ashamed of his actions and harsh words. To this, you couldn't help but smile softly.

"It's okay, Ekko. I know you were just angry." You murmured, looking back at him with soft eyes.

"Say, wanna just get something to eat back at my place? I'm sure you are sick of hospital food." Ekko offered, his thumb gently rubbing your shoulder. At the thought of not having to eat hospital food, you lit up.

"Sure, why not?" You replied, oblivious to Ekko's intentions. Ekko smiled softly at this, patting their shoulder before letting go.

"Perfect, c'mon, I'll make you your favorite." He beckoned, gesturing for them to follow him.

As you and Ekko walked to his humble abode, Ekko could not stop thinking about how he would never let them feel pain again. As he watched you talk and ramble on about something, all he could think of is how attractive you were. How the golden sun gently kissed your skin, how the soft wind played with your hair, and how your eyes looked like portals into your heart of gold. He was smitten and he swore to himself he would never let the precious person before him get hurt ever again.

Once you two made it to his humble abode, Ekko opened the door for you and watched you walk in, knowing he would never let you leave. As he walked in after you, he shut the door with a sigh, secretly locking the deadbolt when you had your back turned.

"Alright, I'm gonna get us started. First, do you want a drink?" He queried, walking past them into the kitchen. Soon after, you followed him.

"Yeah, just a water would be nice." You spoke, sitting up on a stool by his kitchen island. Ekko gave an approving hum in reply as he grabbed you both a glass and began to fill it up. Ekko looked back at you as the glasses filled with water. "Hey, I repainted the kitchen the other day, do you like the new color?" He asked, gesturing around to the room. When you looked at the walls, Ekko knew the distraction worked and slipped a little something into your water.

"Hmm, yeah, it's a nice seafoam green." You commented on the shade, taking it in. Ekko nodded, handing you your glass with a slight shake to his hand.

"Thanks, now drink up, I'm sure you're thirsty since they limited your water intake back at the hospital." The head of the Firelights replied, nodding to you. To this, you picked up the glass of water and began to drink it, not thinking twice. To this, Ekko couldn't help but sigh softly and mentally remind himself that this was for your own good. He knew the agent would act quickly so he strolled over to be beside you as you put the glass down on the counter.

"Damn, you were thirsty." He teased as he sat in the stool right next to you.

As if on cue, you felt warm and fuzzy as your eye lids got heavy. Ekko immediately noticed and wrapped their arm around your back, pulling you closer to him.

"Hey, are you alright?" He questioned, feigning obliviousness as he watched you struggle to stay awake.

That's when you realized something was in the water. It had to be. You went to stand only for your legs to give out, causing you to collapse to the kitchen floor with a thud. Ekko swore at himself for letting go and rushed to be beside you and pick you up, making sure you didn't get hurt.

"Woah, woah, woah, slow down there, Y/N." He spoke softly, holding you in bridal style as you were struggling to keep your eyes open. Your world got blurry and things suddenly felt distant. Ekko knew exactly was happening but kept telling himself it was for your own good, ignoring the guilt pooling in his stomach.

Then it all went black.

Warmth. Warmth was what you could describe you felt when you started regaining your senses. When you opened your eyes, you realized the warmth was Ekko's body pressed against yours. His strong arms were wrapped around your waist and his head was on your shoulder.

"Ekko?" You croaked out, alerting him that you were awake. He sighed softly and pulled away, looking down at you with solemn eyes.

"It was for your own good, I'm sorry." Ekko murmured softly, ashamed and regretful but not enough to let you go.

"The water. It was drugged?" You asked, trying to sit up only for your arms to be too weak to do so.

"Yes, I'm sorry but you have to understand tha—"

"You drugged me?" You interjected, your brows furrowed.

"Well, yes, but just know it was for your own good." Ekko relented, making strong eye contact. To this, you were alarmed by his motive.

"My own good? Drugging me? Do you have any idea how crazy you sound right now?" You retorted, trying to get up once more only for Ekko to firmly yet gently push you back to the bed.

"Y/N, I can't let you get hurt again so I did what I had to do. I have lost enough people, and I am not going to lose you too. I love you, Y/N." He confessed, his eyes sparkling with a look you had never seen before.

"This isn't love, this is control." You spat with your brows knitted together in a frown. To this, Ekko looked displeased. He grabbed your jaw and made you look at him.

"I have loved you since the day we met under that tree. I have loved you with more passion than I have every loved anyone or anything before. It is love and I can prove it to you." To this, Ekko placed a gentle yet passionate kiss on your lips, holding you in place by your jaw. His lips were soft and warm but it was offset by the situation at hand.

As Ekko pulled away, he was panting softly with eyes full of obsession.

"I will protect you from all pain. I refuse to ever see you hurt ever again in my entire life. I will protect you and I will not fuck it up this time."

[drewsbraziliangf]

there'll be happiness after you | Drew Starkey x black!reader

summary: what can you do when you're back in the same place where you had your heart broken for the last time? Is there any way to move past all the hurt and longing?

a/n: ok so I'm sorry for the long wait for this... This will be the last part of this story :'( I want to thank you guys for the love shown in this because this is my first time writing for anything other than House of the Dragon in a loooong time. I hugely suggest listening to "No Goodbyes" by Dua Lipa, "Funeral" by Zara Larsson or "happiness" by Taylor Swift during this read. I hope y'all enjoy it!

dividers: @/saradika

warnings: some cuss words, angst.

The morning after a was never my favorite. Always waking up with a pounding headache and lips as dry as a desert is not the best way to start a day. But there was something about today that made it all worse, for some reason, my brain decided to remember most of the events of the previous night─ touches, kisses, promises, apologies─ everything.

A part of me prayed that I'd forget about it and be able to sneak out without him noticing, but seemed like he was expecting that already and gotten up before I was even awake. The only thing that made it clear that he was indeed at home, was the soft sounds coming from the kitchen.

Okay... I know this apartment like the back of my mind, so since the kitchen door wasn't a direct line for the main door, maybe if I'm quiet enough I'd be able to leave without him noticing, right?

Dwelling on it would only make it worse, so I got up, picked up my clothes from the day before, and quickly got dressed again, this time feeling much more exposed than I did last night. I looked around for my phone, but it wasn't anywhere to be seen. Cursing myself, I remembered that I left it in the living room. Great, a detour.

Thankfully I didn't have to worry too much about how my hair looked as the braids did half the work in keeping it presentable. With a sigh, I walked out of the room with my heels in hand and kept quietly praying to the gods above to grant me this one wish. I just needed my phone and then I'm able to leave.

As I reached the main hall, I could see the bathroom door closed and the lights on. Great, this would be even easier. I quickly walked towards the living room looking for my phone, thankfully it was exactly where I remembered leaving it. It took me no time to grab the device and turn toward the door, only to have one of the biggest jump scares of my life.

"HOLY SHIT!" My left hand instinctively went to my chest as my heart rate increased.

Yeah, there goes my prayers. Drew was leaning against the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest. He was wearing a black tank top and a pair of grey sweatpants. His hair was messy and there was still a small air of sleepiness around him. He cleared his throat as he stared at me.

"Yeah, I knew you'd try to do that," he said with a shrug.

"Well, this is exactly what I was trying to avoid," I snap back after I'm calmer.

I could feel my hands getting sweaty and the weight of his gaze upon me was making me feel so uncomfortable. Like there was this white elephant in the room getting bigger by the second.

"Uhm, I kinda have to go-"

"Come on, let's talk over breakfast."

Without giving me a chance to answer he walked back towards the kitchen and I had no choice but to follow him. With a bit of reluctance, I dragged my bare feet after him. The cold tiles on the floor were not even bothering me as they were five minutes ago.

The worst kind of deja vu bathed me as I stood by the counter. The last time I was here was the worst day of my life, so I wasn't feeling great watching him move so effortlessly.

He filled two glasses with black coffee and the toaster with white bread before picking up some jam and cottage cream cheese.

I sat on one of the benches and quietly accepted the plate he handed me once it was all done, he then proceeded to sit by my side and we began to eat in silence, more like me watching him eat as I sipped my coffee.

"So you were just going to sneak out?" He asked casually after a few minutes as he coated his toast with jam.

"What did you expect me to do? I shouldn't even come here in the first place," I bite back and he places his mug down.

"Well, I thought you would at least grant me the chance to talk. We have a lot to talk about."

"No, we don't. We fucked and that's it. It shouldn't have happened and it won't happen again. It can't happen again." I confess, with the instinct of avoiding to meet his eyes.

"What do you mean? We have to talk this through and fix what happened. I know that I fucked up but you just left. As if it all meant nothing to you. We were getting married, for fucks sake." He says, throwing his hands in the air in annoyance.

At that, I stand up and begin walking back toward the living room. I had to leave. This could escalate and both of us leave even more hurt than before.

"I'm not doing this again. I didn't just leave. You pushed me away. You didn't give me a reason to stay. That's what happened."

"I love you! How can you say that?"

"Yeah, you might. But do you like me?" The words leave my mouth before a second to think them over.

He watches me for a second before running a hand over his face. All the traces of sleep were gone from his features now.

"Because I did. And I was so in love with you too," I continue, as my eyes begin to sting. "I was so ready to have the rest of my life by your side. So, how could you do that to me? When did I stop being enough?"

The questions kept flowing out and I couldn't filter my feelings or my words. I just wanted this to end once and for all. My brain couldn't stop reminiscing on last night's events. His touches, his kisses, him.

But being sober now and knowing it all was killing me. How could I be such a fool? After I tried so hard to erase him from my mind...

"No, baby, please listen to me, okay? Just let me talk," he pleaded taking a step closer.

"No, Drew. There is nothing to talk about. I shouldn't have come here and this shouldn't even be happening."

My voice is slightly pitchier than I'd like but I couldn't help it.

"Do you have any idea of how hard it was for me?" I ask looking at his glossy eyes. "I don't get to travel all around the world and the country so I can simply put what happened aside. I had to deal with pitying looks for weeks. I had to walk around the city remembering a life we planned together but wouldn't have anymore. I have to keep on living knowing that that the man I loved didn't choose me when I really fucking needed him to."

At this point, I wasn't trying to keep track of my tears or my words. I just needed that out of my chest so I could be free. I was so tired of carrying these in my heart that even if it hurt, it was freeing.

"So it would be so fucking unfair to me if I just walked back into this," I say as I wipe my face with the back of my hand. "I can't do this to myself again. No matter how much a big part of me still cares about you. I deserve better. I have to choose myself because you clearly didn't."

He didn't say anything at that because there wasn't anything that could be said. Both of us knew that I was right.

Seeing him cry was like picking at an open wound, it made me feel even worse. But, what else could I do? I could feel this eating me up inside and I couldn't look past all the suffering I went through just because he showed up again.

"Loving someone isn't enough to keep a relationship going. You have a lot to do and you didn't, you really didn't. So I'm sorry if I can't just pretend to be okay with everything after a few hours spent together after a few months."

"You think you're the only one suffering in this? I lost you and I had to wake up in our bed every day. I had to be in this apartment knowing that the person who made it a home wasn't going to return. And that no matter what I did or who came by, it was never going to be the same."

His confession made my heart clench but he brought this upon himself. It wasn't me who gave up on it.

"And who's to blame for that?" I say looking into his eyes.

"I know. Don't you think I've blamed myself enough for that?  Because I did, for all the days that you have not been here. This is the first time in seven months when I have felt a sense of normalcy and that's because you're here. Don't you see that?"

Now that the bandaid was ripped once again, the both of us were in tears standing in the middle of the living room. The walls felt like they were getting closer and closer each second that passed.

"Did you know that Frankie came by on the third month? She gave me the TED talk of my life."

That caught your attention, Frankie has never mentioned that. At all.

"She told me that she knew that I wasn't good enough for you from the start, but that she had never expected me to be a shitty partner too. That she had never seen someone disrespect their girlfriend as much as I did without even knowing and that now that I was single the reason for my breakup pushed me aside for someone more interesting. So that not only was I trash for  how I treated you but I was also dumb for not seeing it."

His words come as a shock to you. With shaking hands and deep breaths, you look around the room trying to focus on something that isn't his red face.

"And she's not wrong, you know? And I was also a coward for never coming to you and watching your life on the sidelines."

At this point, I was feeling the huge urge to sob. My hands were sweaty, my tears were not even drying in my face as new ones came down.

"So I'm sorry, okay? I'm so fucking sorry for it. But please, don't say that I didn't care enough about you. Because I did."

His words keep ringing in my ear for a while as I try to place my thoughts correctly. Seven months ago I thought that it would be the last time I would see him and then I'd be able to heal and move on, but now seeing him and hearing everything was bringing a new wave of unaddressed feelings that I have not dealt with yet.

"I can't." A whisper comes out of my lips after a while. "And you have to understand why I can't do this again. I can't ignore everything."

He looks at me with his lips trembling as his tears keep on falling down his face. In the walls of this apartment now the only sound that rang was defeat. This was a lost cause and no matter what happened, both of us would be losing today. 

"I'm sorry, Drew. I really am, but there's nothing that can be done anymore. " I declare as I finally feel like he might let me go. "I hope you find someone who's ready and brave enough to love you through it all, you deserve to be loved and the times that I felt genuinely loved by you were the greatest. That person just won't be me."

Like the first time, months ago, I turned towards the front door and walked out.  Knowing that he would not follow me and that whatever had remained seven months and thirteen days ago, was completely over this time. Even if a huge part of me kept screaming at me to forgive him, I knew I couldn't. Not only it wouldn't be fair to me but I knew what would happen. Of course she wasn't as present in his life anymore, she completely isolated him from any potential significant other he could have. And if we got back together, the cycle would repeat itself and I would never put myself in a situation where I had to fight for someone's attention just to be tossed aside as if I was nothing. 

In this story, there was ever only one winner and it wasn't either Drew or I. 

💖taglist💖: @emmaafinchh @rafecamerons-national-anthem @bvleeeeeee @a-j-stuffs @maybankslover @lovelylove268 @cooper8224 @esquivelbianca @dreamybabbyy @lulubabii @idiotussupremus @drewsphswife @ietss @noneofyabuisnezs @chenslucy @yvbe99 @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @theeternaloptimistt @roselibrary @daddydraco0 @iheartcats444 @allopathi

[katiascraft]

✐ᝰ "You knew all too well i was right where you left me" | CL16 ࣪𓏲ּ ᥫ᭡ ₊

chapter one: “love is short but forgetting is so long” -> chapter two

parings: retired!charles leclerc x writer!ex!reader

⋆˚࿔ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

book tittle: "right where you left me"

author: y/n y/ln.

sinopsis: Did you ever hear about the girl who got frozen? While time moved on for everyone else, she stayed trapped in a single moment, lost in a fantasy of what could have been. She’s still 23, clinging to the life she thought she’d have, the one where everything was “just right.”

This is the story of a woman living in delusion, unable to let go of the exact moment her world fell apart. Breakups happen every day, but for her, it was more than that. Sitting cross-legged at a restaurant table, under the dim light, across from him, everything felt perfect—until he said, “I met someone else.” The shatter of glass on the white tablecloth marked the death of their love, but not the end of her story.

While everyone else moved on, she stayed behind. In that restaurant, in that moment, with those words echoing in her mind, her heart suspended in a “forever” that never came.

A poignant romance about heartbreak, grief, and the lives we leave behind when we can’t move forward. If you ever wonder if you got it all wrong, remember:

“I’m right where you left me. You left me no choice but to stay here forever.”

⋆˚࿔ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

word count: +5k.

MASTERLIST

⋆˚࿔ Ten years ago 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

You were wearing your favorite flower dress Charles gifted you for your year anniversary last year. He always said you looked the prettiest on it. So you decided to wear it for this date. Charles told you he needed to tell you something and you prepared mentally for an engagement ring or something. Or like he would propose to you to live together. You couldn't think of anything else. You were happy.

He held your hand while the waiter guided you both to your reserved table next to the window. It was your favorite. It wasn't the first time you came, it was your go to restaurant. You even had your first date here. 

The restaurant was inspired to be like a flower shop mixed with a coffee shop. It developed to be a fancy restaurant in monte carlo. Your apartment was two blocks away so you were a regular client alongside charles. 

You were so proud of him and every single accomplishment in his last year. He was finally becoming an F1 driver. Your heart is exploding with happiness for him. You admired how determined he always was about his dreams. 

You sat on the table in front of each other. The waiter made sure you were comfy and left the menu for you to check. You grabbed it starting to read it, not noticing charles behaviour wasn't normal. His body language was unusual. He seemed uncomfortable, stressed. He cleared his throat making you look at him and have your attention. You left the menu over the table to give him your 100% of attention.it was summer so you had your hair up in a pin and charles was wearing a plain white t shirt that always looked so precious on him. 

Your eyes had question marks all over them expecting to hear what he wanted to say. There was a soft smile on yours but Charles wasn't smiling, on the contrary, he was looking down at the white tablecloth. You frowned when he took so much time to say anything. He noticed so he looked at you.

“I met someone else” he said and you felt like cold ice water was sprayed straight to you. His hands sweaty showed anxiety creeping and your face went white. You just couldn't move for a few seconds.

“W-what?” That was the only thing you could say at the moment. It was like your brain went dead in the instant it heard him saying those words. I met someone else. Four words. It took only four words to break your whole reality in a million pieces so tiny you thought it was impossible you could live properly anymore. Your mouth went dry. His eyes were cloaked on you expecting something else out of you. But how could he? He saw how you broke down there and then in front of his eyes, how confusion and heartache took over you with just four words. 

Those damn four words you won't ever forget. They will haunt you for the rest of your life. You just knew. 

There were a few minutes of silence. Really painful silence. You didn't know what to do. You didn't even know if you wanted to know more about it or just run away from here. You looked down at your dress. Tears creeping to stream down your face.charles out of desperation and discomfort talked again.

“I met someone else. I don't love you anymore, and before doing something stupid, I just wanted to tell you first” his words coming out of his mouth at the same time the waiter was laying your white wine glasses on the table. When he bheard what Charles said, he tripped and smashed the glass on the floor next to your table. You exalted. Charles got really nervous about it for some reason. You looked at him. The mess helped you to snap out of your bubble you were drowning alive.

“What happens to everything we build together, then?” he didn't have an answer for your question. Your tears started streaming down your face alongside your not waterproof mascara. The waiter apologised when he ended up cleaning, uncomfortable hearing two strangers break up in front of him. Charles licked his lips nervously and shook his head lost in what to answer. 

“Guess, it doesn't matter now” his words cut through your skin like daggers. 

You were waiting for him to propose something beautiful together. You believed you were the love of his life. He told you that everyday. Then one day to another, he found someone better. 

“Is it because I'm not pretty enough for your new status life?” you needed to find a reason even if it was the stupidest one. You just couldn't live without one for this terrible outcome of your life. It was the end. 

It was the fucking end.

He denied with his head not looking at you. He couldn't. And he also couldn't believe he fell in love with someone else while you were there the whole time. He knew this was the right thing to do for both of you. But he didn't even understand what happened. Why did he stop loving you? He had no clue. The only thing he knew is that he loved alexandra, not you. Alexandra made him feel something he had never felt for you as much as it hurt him to admit it. Because he cared about it, he cared a lot.  Even though it seemed like he didn't because he didn't love you like that anymore. 

“I’m sorry, y/n” that was all he had left to say. He didn't want to make you confused. He didn't want to lie to you. You didn't deserve that. Honesty was the least he could offer you after all of these years together. 

You couldn't understand properly what he was saying at this point. You didn't understand why he would invite you for a date when he wanted to break up. Why he didn't say anything yesterday or the day before, or the other. Just, why? What did you do wrong? Wasn't your love enough? You gave him your all. Are you a problem? Probably. So beautiful to think someone was leaning on their knees to ask you something beautiful then hear “you would’ve been such a lovely bride. What a shame she’s fucked in the head”. He found someone better than you. More beautiful. Even more intelligent and interesting for sure. 

You gasped at his words. Your chest aches and your hands are shaky. He felt terrible seeing you like that but he had to be strong and do the right thing. 

“It’s better i go, goodbye y/n” he didn't know what to say nor he wanted to stay any longer. It was all too much for him. 

You watched him leave the restaurant. He was leaving with everything you once were and now you're nothing at all. You watched everyone looking at you, there, left alone and a mess. Unloved and unimportant. You felt they stared at you forever, because it felt like it. 

What were just a few minutes for the rest of humanity, it felt like centuries for you. You were stuck there on a loop hearing his words and watching him leave, again and again, and again for eternity. 

You froze there, lost and empty.

Everyone moved on but you didn't. 

How could you?

⋆˚࿔ Ten years later 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

You were at your office in your beach house in monte carlo. You were writing your second book. And yeah, so much happened since you last seen charles.

Of course, the aftermath of it all was terrible on your side. You fell into a depression you didn't know it could be real to experience. The emptiness you felt was immense. Also, your self esteem was destroyed and that was the hardest part to build back up again. You went to therapy two times a week. There were so many things you didn't understand. It was really hard for you to cope with the pain by yourself. Your best friend, agostina, moved in with you. She travelled from New York and left her life behind so she could be there for you. She was an Italian teacher so she could get a job pretty fast and that comforted you. You felt guilty and ashamed of your situation. You just felt like a fucking problem to everyone.  

You had started journaling by the time your friend pointed out something that would change your life forever. 

Monaco’s weather was the prettiest. Autumn it’s really beautiful up here. You were seated on your lounge chair by the pool. Your friend sat next to you leaving two cups of tea on the tiny table between you two. The morning was your favorite time of the day, because you had the habit of writing down everything you felt about anything and everything. Your friend knew it so she just accompanied you through it. She knew it was part of the process and she just wanted to be there for you, always. As she always did since you were kids back in london. 

The words stormed out of you straight to the paper like lighting. You were writing fast every single word you heard. And after a few moments when you finally stopped writing, you would read your words out loud to process them. 

“Okay, hear me out. Are you ready” you asked your friend so she could join you in the process and debate about your thoughts and feelings. That always helped you out so much. She nodded, taking a sip from his tea cup.

“Alright” you adjusted yourself comfier on the chair moving to face her and grabbed your journal better. “Maybe we got lost in translation or maybe I asked for too much. Or maybe this thing was a masterpiece till you tore it all up. Running scared, I was there. I remember it all too well. And you call me up just to break me like a promise. So casually cruel in the name of being honest. And now I'm a crumpled up piece of paper lying here. Time won't fly. It's like im paralyzed by it. I’d like to be my old self, but I'm still trying to find it after `plaid shirt days and nights where you made me your own. Now you mail back my things and I walk home alone. Because there we are again when I loved you so, back before we lost the one real thing you’ve ever known. It was rare, I was there, I remember it all too well” your voice was soft and low. When you finished your friend stayed silent analyzing your words.

“Have you ever considered becoming a writer? Because that, what you wrote, was beautiful y/N” she told you. Her words sinked in you. Maybe you should. You write a lot, so you can try and if you fail you stick to your translator job as you do now. Something fliked inside you. What could go wrong?

And to be fair, the rest is history. You started your journey as a writer and it was not easy  but all of the heartache you carried helped to write the story of your life. Not like, actually, but it did indeed change your life forever. 

Your first book was called “all too well” and under any expectation, it became a best seller worldwide. You were a best seller author now and a pretty famous one. Your novel broke selling records. It made you tour the world, getting to know so many people and signing so many copies of it. And then, you started being so happy. Your suffering became the art so many people appreciated. Unlike Charles, you were important to them, and they cared about your words, your feelings, and your vision. You now have helped someone with your book. As it helped you get through the life you thought you would have with him.

He got married, you saw him on the news one morning while baking cinnamon rolls for your nephews that came to visit. He was a 3 time world champion in formula one and one of the most adored drivers. An icon in fashion and now a businessman. To be fair, it was all you would have dreamed for him. So at some point you were happy for him. At least he achieved everything he dreamed of. And he had a beautiful wife, she was an artist. Sometimes you pass through her gallery to see what new piece she created. She didn't know you, of course. No one knew about you except for Charles' family. His brothers knew. Hisparents knew you.but you were a buried secret to that family. You heard from a friend of a friend it was a pretty big shock when charles told them he was already someone else the next they he dumped you. I mean, you were shocked as well. You thought it wasn't possible for someone to move on that quick. But you couldn't judge him. You were so young. He didn't know better. Sometimes you wonder what would happen if you showed up to a race one day. Would he pretend he doesn't know who you are? Would he pretend you never existed? One part of you, hoped he would fall in love with you again. Just Like the first time. And that he regretted leaving you behind. But reality was way  more complicated. Though, you were offered by Mercedes and McLaren to join a few races since you became a recognized figure to the world. You also wondered if Charles knew about it. If he saw you in the news as you did. If he read your book. If he felt the way you felt. If he believed you described him right or wrong. If he missed you sometimes. If he dreamed of you. If he was waiting to find you again and do it all over again. But just the right way this time. Forever.

⋆˚࿔ present day 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

yourusername made a post

Liked by agostinabff, arthurleclerc, alexandramsaintlux and others

yourusername: happy 5 year anniversary of your fav book!! It’s “all too well” birthday (and season!) and to celebrate I am so thrilled and happy to announce all too well it’s actually a MOVIE ON THE MAKING!!! kept this secret for way too long, but now you know and I can’t believe it’s actually reality! Special thanks to my bestie who from day one told me to become a writer and look where we are now. Thank you all so much for reading 💌 don’t forget to bake cinnamon rolls and wear your red scarfs and lipstick! 🍂🧣🤎

tagged: universalpictures, alltoowellthenovel, alltoowellthemovie

View more comments

user345: OMG FINALLY FINALLY 😭

user89: I don’t know how to feel about I just hope it’s good please

agostinabff: always with you beautiful and talented soul. We are so proud of you, me and Benjamin, Renato and Dante love you 🤎 ready with our red scarfs come pick us up!

↳ yourusername: I love you my family 🥹 omw 🤎

user234: I really want to know who broke her heart this deep to write a masterpiece like all too well is

↳ user234: GIRL exactly like I ache for her

↳ user79: I would be dead if I had to live something like that

user123: just between us, did the love affair maim you too? 😭😭😭😭

↳ user21: you kept me like a secret but i kept you like an oath 😭

universalpictures: we remember it all too well 🤎❤️

↳ user34: thank you for this it’s amazingggg

user411: can’t wait

arthurleclerc: congrats y/n! waiting for it such a great book!

↳ user673: what are you doing here darling????

↳ user1: didn’t know racing drivers read romantic books

↳ user76: now you became more perfect than perfect 😍

↳ user7923: suss

⋆˚࿔ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

“La Dernière Fleur” looked so much different from where you and Charles broke up.  It was now a cafeteria. And a really cute one. You loved coming here to write your following book. Up to now, you were gonna tell the story you had with Charles, everything. You needed to finally let go of him. Let go of the past. And finally, move on. 

You sat at your regular table for the last three months. Your computer and notebook on the table. You were surrounded by papers with so many notes on them and coffee cups. Your hair up in a pin and your reading glasses on. Your red hair looked shiny thanks to the sun reflecting on it coming though the window. Everybody knew you there and felt honoured that you chose that place to write your next best seller. They always gifted you their exquisite lemon cinnamon roll. It was your favorite. They made you feel really special and you were really grateful about it. 

Your next novel will be called “right where you left me” and for you it was a great idea to go back to the place where it all started.

The first day you came you almost threw up out of anxiety. It was hard to remember it all. But the second day around you could actually think of the storyline and write down some notes. And that’s how it all started three months ago.

In other news, your book was so successful, it was going to become a movie in two years. How crazy is that? You accomplished so much in all these years. Sometimes you had to pinch yourself to see if you were dreaming.

It was autumn, your favorite season of the year. Wearing sweaters and scarfs and red lipstick. Everything was perfect. It made life feel so much more romantic. You loved taking your nephews to the beach and running in circles, then making a war of the leaves at the park. Agostina had 3 beautiful boys with her husband Andrew. She never doubted you’d be the best aunt in the world for her children so she moved her whole family to Monaco and life was beautiful. 

Yes, it's surprising you never saw Charles again but you lived on the opposite corner of monaco. And you both travelled so much during the year. And also, you didn't like going out so much so no, you didn't go to parties where you could find him. 

Now 10 years later, you’re 32 and realized you missed your whole life waiting for him. So this book was a goodbye to him. And a hello to your new life. You wanted to find someone, trust in them, and have a family. That was always your plan. But it got twisted along the way. But it is what it is, life’s sometimes a bitch and destiny likes to play its part in a cruel way. but maybe it was for the better. Maybe someone amazing was about to come your way. 

You took a sip from the coffee cup, malena, the waitress left for you a few moments away. You couldn't actually swallow the drink, because through the door you saw a person coming in who you would have never expected to see again unless it was on tv. 

You almost choked when a 35 year old charles, your charles (well, not anymore for sure); got into the coffee shop with a few friends laughing out loud. Hearing his laughter sent shivers down your spine. 

You felt frozen in that moment, the same way you felt the day he left you behind, alone.

You swallowed the drink in your mouth the best way you could. And left the cup on the table carefully. You looked down at your notes realizing you have been writing his name on the edge of the page. Like doodling. You felt stupid and just broke the paper gently so you wouldn't disturb anyone or catch someone’s attention you for sure didn't want right now. Your heart was racing and your hands were sweating. You started to feel hot due to anxiety of the not expected encounter with him here. And you guessed you felt like this, also because you knew he was single again and your delusion could make you believe that maybe you have another chance with him. You really didn't want to feed it. You need to move on as soon as possible. You could keep going in circles in this rabbit hole you're trapped in for so many years now.  

When you looked back up again you felt you almost faint.  There he was, charles fucking leclerc smiling at you shily while his friends were talking. You recognized a few of them. One was Carlos for sure. They all looked so different. Charles looked different but as pretty as he’s always been. His smile made you panic to say the least. You couldn't smile at him back. All he received was your eyes looking away to a moment after start grabbing your things to get the fuck out that coffee cursed shop. And that’s what you did.  Once you collected all of your things and left money to pay for everything, you sprinted out of that shop to your car. You never left a place so quickly. Anybody watching would think you were escaping from something or someone. and in fact, you were. you were scapingfrom the guy who broke you in so many ways.

Charles came back from a paddle match with his friends. They decided to have some food in the nearest place from the court there was. That was the place where he ruined his life. Or that was the way he liked to call it. Because he dumped the best girl he ever met. But he didn't know better back then. He was a dickhead for sure. And because he knew she deserves someone that knew her value not like him, he really tried to make it work with Alex all of those years. But he couldn't anymore because it showed. It was obvious even if he pretended that he really loved her the way he loved his past girlfriend. He felt stupid above anything to be honest.

The guys chose the place and he had to agreed. He didn't  want to tell them the story though Carlos knew about it and he always said it wasn't cursed and that what happened in the past should stay in the past. And he knew he was right but he couldn't quite actually move on completely from it. Because he missed you. He slept with a lot of women, tried to date a few after his divorce. He tried to find you in every body he could touch. But none of them felt like your skin. Even if they had the same hair, or eyes, none of them had your smile. The one he loved to see every morning he woke up.

They got into the cafe. It looked pretty different from what he remembered. And he remembered it all too well. He won't ever forget how everybody turned to look at him walking away leaving that poor girl crying, alone and with her heart broken. He was so selfish. Maybe too manly for his liking. He was an asshole to say the least. And he knew it. He won't ever deny it. but He likes to think he learnt from it. 

His breathing stopped when while taking a seat and listening to Carlos talk about how next year he was gonna work in the Ferrari team on strategy, he saw you. The girl he had nightmares with and his most lovely dreams. All he could do was smile. You looked so different yet so beautiful. He realized he had never seen you this beautiful from what he can remember. You dont look like in the pictures of your times together he keeps on a google photos cloud. But you didn't smile back at him. That made him feel an ache in his heart for some reason. Not that he would see you ever again he guessed. He observed every single moment you did until he couldn't see you anymore. He was left feeling confused but tried to play it cool so the guys wouldn't catch him. He felt weird for the rest of the day. He couldn't stop seeing your face looking him straight in the eyes. what was your life now? were you married? were you single? he knew you were a writer but even if he thought he wouldnt see you again, he wanted to know. he wanted to know you. Were you as miserable as him?

When you got into your car you started breathing heavily hearing his loud laugh in your head repeating like a broken record. You felt scared. Why now? Why now that you really need to move on? Why is it gotta be now that he shows up in your life again?

You just drove home trying to make yourself believe it was a dream. He wasn't real. He didn't walk into the same coffee shop he broke up with you. He didn't smile at you. You didn't stare at him for a few microseconds. That moment didn't exist. 

You were hallucinating, you guessed. 

⋆˚࿔ FIN 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

Chapter two: coming soon.

tag list: @theseerbetweenus , @sie17136

author's note: alrightyyyyy, i thought this would be just one part but then i had so many ideas that it will turn into a series! so feedback is very welcome!!

i just really hope you like it as much as i like this idea! any recommendation is welcomed.

i'm already working in part two so stay tuned i will update you in these next few days <3

thank you all so much for reading and supporting my work, mwak mwak, you are amazing!

[fanbasetwo]

✦ AFTER HOURS ┊ GUNWOOK

001. PAIRING , boyfriend ! gunwook × afab reader

002. SYNOPSIS , it has been a while since you and gunwook had taken your relationship to the next level and with growing comfort came the need to try out those things a little differently.

003. WARNING(S) , NSFW, MDNI, unprotected sex, dirty talk, blindfold, petnames, degradation, ice play, etc, lmk if i missed anything.

004. WORD COUNT , 1.1k (haven't really checked TT)

REQUEST , “ok hear me out...intimate horizons part two where they start exploring more than just vanilla” really sorry since this was deleted by mistake. MASTERLIST!!

You and Gunwook have travelled far from your first time with each other. What used to be a tentative exploration now blooms into a deep passion between you. You found new desires, new kinks, new ways to pleasure each other that you did not know existed.

Vanilla sex is so out. Today, your lovemaking is an adventure. Your lovemaking is a sensory journey of surprise and delight. You never know what Gunwook might spring on you—a blindfold, a flogger, a set of cuffs. With every meeting, you get a chance to explore the next boundary you want to break for yourself by surrendering yourself entirely to the one you trust the most.

You feel the excitement in the air today, when Gunwook takes you to the bedroom. Dark promises fill his eyes as he leads you to the edge of the bed with his electric touch. You can tell whatever it is that he has planned for you will be intense, thrilling, and unforgettable.

Your heart races as he pulls out a length of silk, the fabric cool and smooth against your skin as he wraps it around your eyes, plunging you into darkness. The loss of sight heightens your other senses — the whisper of sheets, the creak of the bed frame, the heat of Gunwook's body as he moves around you.

You shiver at the feeling of him coming to kneel behind you. His hands skim up the sides of your thighs as he pushes your dress up around your waist. “What are you going to do to me?” you breathe, equal parts nervous and excited.

Gunwook chuckles low and wicked. “Oh, baby. You have no idea. Just relax and let me take care of you.”

And with that, he begins.

You shiver with Gunwook's pressing the smooth, cold ice against your sensitive folds, a stark contrast that sends tingles racing across your skin. The blindfold keeps you in delicious suspense while your other senses are heightened as you strain to decipher the sensations dancing across your flesh.

His hands move along your inner thighs, the touch so light, yet it feels electric. You gasp as he holds the ice in place, the cubes melting and dripping down to your entrance. The chill mixes with the heat of your arousal, creating an intoxicating blend that has you squirming with need.

Just as the ice melts entirely, leaving you slippery and wanting, you feel something else. Something hot and hard nudging against your cold, swollen pussy lips. You know that shape, that texture intimately-it's Gunwook's cock, teasing you mercilessly.

“Please,” you whimper, your voice raw with desperation. “Please, I need you inside me.”

But he denies you, slapping his hard length against your slick folds instead, and the sharp sting mingles with the soothing coolness, and you gasp and writhe in the sheets, your nails digging into the fabric as your body arches silently, begging for more.

The anticipation is maddening, every nerve ending alive and screaming for release. You've never needed him more, never craved his touch with such ferocity. And yet, he keeps you on the edge, balancing you precariously between pleasure and pain, heaven and hell.

You sob quietly, with your tears pricking at the corner of your eyes behind your blindfold. You're at his complete mercy, utterly exposed and vulnerable. And in this moment, you've never felt more alive or more in contact with him.

Gunwook is fully in control, and you delight in it. You are surrendering yourself to him, trusting him completely to take you through this sensory experience. Your body is his canvas, your moans his music. And oh, how beautifully he plays you.

You wriggle under the tease of Gunwook's hard cock, the warmth a jarring contrast to the chill that lingers on your skin. “Please,” you plead once more, your voice breaking. “I can't take this anymore. I need you inside me, to fill me up.”

Gunwook chuckles lowly, the sound sending shivers down your spine. “Patience, my love. We're just getting started.”

He circles your entrance with the tip of his cock, the pressure maddening. You're so empty, aching to be filled, stretched, claimed by him. But still, he denies you, keeping you on the edge of ecstasy.

“Gunwook, please,” you whine, pushing your hips back against him desperately. “I'm yours, all yours. Take me, use me, do whatever you want to me.”

“That's my good girl,” he purrs, rewarding you with a firm smack to your ass. “You know exactly what you need, don't you?”

You nod frantically, tears of frustration leaking from beneath the blindfold. “Yes, yes I do. I need you to fuck me, to make me yours in every way.”

“And you will be,” Gunwook promises darkly. “Every inch of you, every part of your being, will be branded by my love.”

With that, he finally, finally pushes forward, breaching your entrance with one smooth thrust. You cry out as he fills you completely, stretching you deliciously. The pleasure is intense, almost too much to bear.

Gunwook moves at breakneck speed, thrusting into you with long, hard strikes. Every strike sends shocks through your body, shaking your breath out into moaning gasps. Your life becomes narrowed to the rhythm of his cock sliding back and forth through your saturated cunt, the aching sear of his palms gripping the flesh of your hips, and the sound of flesh slapping against flesh.

“You're mine,” Gunwook growls, punctuating each word with a particularly hard thrust. “My perfect little slut, my eager little whore. Say it. Tell me who you belong to.”

“I'm yours!” you cry out, your voice raw with emotion. “All yours, Gunwook. My body, my heart, my soul it's all yours.”

“That's right, baby,” he moans, his hips snapping into you with renewed vigor. “You were made for me, made to take my cock like this. No one else can make you feel this good, can they?”

“No, only you,” you pant, your words punctuated by gasps and moans. “Only you can fuck me like this, so deep, so hard. Only you can make me come undone.”

Gunwook's fingers find your clit and rub tight circles around the sensitive nub. The added stimulation is overwhelming, pushing you closer to the edge. “Come for me,” he demands, his voice rough with lust. “Come on my cock like a good girl.”

Your orgasm crashes over you like a tidal wave, your inner walls clamping down around Gunwook's pistoning length. You scream his name, your body convulsing with the force of your release. The pleasure is so intense, so all-consuming, that you swear you can see stars behind your closed eyelids.

But Gunwook doesn't slow down, continuing to pound into your fluttering cunt as you ride out your high. He's chasing his own release now, grunting and growling with the effort. His rhythm becomes erratic, his thrusts shallower and faster.

“Fuck, I'm gonna come,” he warns, his voice strained. “Gonna fill this pretty pussy up with my seed. You want that, baby? Want me to mark you, claim you from the inside out?”

NOT TAKING REQUESTS FOR NOW — COMMENT HERE OR SEND AN ASK TO JOIN THE TAGLIST.

© 2024 , all rights reserved to fanbasetwo !

[moralesluvr]

cooler than ice | billie eilish

୧ ‧₊˚ you spend the day going ice skating with your girlfriend, though you’re not as good as you thought you’d be.

pairings & aus. billie eilish x fem!reader

warnings. some swearing | billie being a tease

author's note. i haven’t written in months and here i am popping out w a billie eilish fic…i love this woman so much im sorry not sorry !! anyways, enjoy !

a wispy breeze of november bites at your exposed arms as you fold them over your chest, sharp enough to sting but comforting, in an odd sort of a way. you seethe and suck in a cloud of cool air, blowing a plume of it out and turning your head to look at your girlfriend, who had her ring-accented fingers dug into her pockets, turning her own head to smile at you.

neither of you speak, but you approach a huge, blue and white themed building with big letters that read “ice rink,” and you start to reach for the door, but receive nothing but a playful slap on the hand from billie. she grabs it and rubs the freshly-assaulted skin, “what did i tell you about touching doors?”

it’s a rhetorical question, and you can’t help but crack a little smile as the door flies open, even more cool air slapping you in the face, but this time— a little more harsh.

you bite your lip and enter the building, walking up to the accumulating line of people. there were mostly couples waiting— some old, some young, and some not even couples at all, just friends with gleaming smiles on their faces or families who snapped group pictures before buying their entry tickets. you smiled at the sight— and billie noticed this, her expression washed to copy yours.

when it was time for you to grab your skates and buy your tickets, billie swiped her card effortlessly and handed you yours first, so you took them and trotted to the nearest bench where you could put the skates on.

you shifted nervously on them when you pulled them snuggly over your feet, tying the laces real tight and finally standing up. each foot felt like it weighed damn near forty pounds— and you felt even more embarrassed when billie offered you a teasing look, “something wrong, baby?”

“no.” you muttered, the lie slipping through your teeth with a grunt laced within it. you huffed and waiting for billie to stand, and as she did so, she gave you a quick kiss on your head.

“afraid you’re gonna go out there and bust your ass?”

a defensive scoff leaves you as billie starts to stand on the ice, effortlessly gliding across the rink and circling back, resting in front of an opening for you to join her, but you’re reluctant. you stare at her for a second— mainly because she looks so pretty. her dark hair was slicked back into a high ponytail, and she was clad in an oversized blue sweater and a pair of dark-wash jeans, with, of course— a borderline unnecessary amount of jewelry.

you were captivated by her, and she could tell, so she gave you a teasing smile, “get on the rink, babe.”

“i’m just gonna…take my time.” you murmur, bending down to tighten your laces for the third time, although they were already tight enough.

billie didn’t buy your shit, though. she knew that you were scared, so she reached out a hand for you and as you grabbed it, she yanked you onto the rink, but pressed your body against her warm one. you yelped, earning a couple concerned looks from other skaters, but billie shushed you.

“i’m not gonna let you go baby, i promise.” billie laughed, though it was a little mocking, because she immediately turned you loose and began to skate off, giggling to herself as she looked back, leaving you looking like bambi on ice.

it was borderline pathetic, really, how you were looking on that rink— cold with no jacket in sight, knees wobbling, and ankles giving out, while your girlfriend skated effortlessly, lapping you around the establishment twice.

you pouted when she made her way back over to you.

“look at you,” she says, smirking, “you kinda look like a baby deer. it’s cute, honestly.”

“you’re such an ass.” you mutter, but there’s a heat crawling up your neck that has nothing to do with a change in temperature. embarrassment flooded you— even though you weren’t the best at ice skating, you at least thought you wouldn’t be this bad to where you would stand in the same spot for five minutes. it was hopeless now, so you turned to your girlfriend and frowned, “bils…”

as if reading your mind, she nodded, interlocking her fingers with your own after shedding herself of her coat and placing it around your shoulders, instantly warming you up, “yes, i’ll teach you how to skate.”

“thank you!” you gleam, “i really wanted to do this together. but i’m clearly not as talented as you are.”

billie laughs, “can’t be the best at everything. well, you can’t— but that’s okay, you’ll get used to it.”

you glance at her with soft eyes as she pulls you out onto the icy rink, teaching you how to sway your hips and rock your feet to a solid rhythm to keep you level and moving steady. with her hands on your waist and her chin on your shoulder, you quickly pick up the new skill. she’s so proud of you, and the both of you are so in sync with your movements that you predict hers before she even makes them.

she’s beautiful— her hair now swaying in the cold wind blows past you both as you begin to pick up speed, and although she’s really guiding y’all, you can’t help but feel proud of yourself for getting the hang of it so fast.

“you tired yet?” billie had asked you a couple minutes later, and you nodded truthfully, telling her that your ankles were starting to ache a little bit. so she led you guys off the rink and to a bench, where you rubbed your achilles with swollen, cold fingers.

“this shit is awful.”

“why awful?” your girlfriend inquired as she took her skates off, wiggling her toes through her long fuzzy socks, which made you roll your eyes with a halfhearted laugh.

you shrugged, “i didn’t know it was gonna be this cold.”

“so, actually,” billie started, and you knew she was going to say something smart-assy because that’s always what would preface such a statement, “we’re in a literal ice box, did you think it was gonna be warm in here? i also vividly remember telling your ass to bring a coat, because you know you get cold everywhere you go.”

“i do not!” you protested, but it was short-lived, immediately executed by the look that the blue eyed girl gave you. but winning the argument didn’t even matter to you anymore, you just offered her soft, sweet eyes, relishing in such a beautiful moment with her.

“you’re staring again.” she whispers, though there’s no real sign of a complaint from her, it’s more informative.

“maybe you’re just worth staring at.”

it comes out so natural, your compliment towards her— and you can tell it melted her heart by the way her arms snake around your waist, pulling you in eagerly to pepper kisses all over your cheeks. you squeal into her shirt as she finishes her mission to peck every single little inch of exposed skin on your face before planting a loving kiss on your lips.

“i love you.”

“i love you too.” you murmur as billie eventually pulls you into another slow glide against the rink, the cold air and her warmth intertwining in a way that made your heart swell.

[echantedtoon]

A war riddled Lover returns- Some Kokushibo content based off the fanart above found on Pinterest, also an Xmas gift for @gilded-sunrays / @crescent-blades

@supernovacoffeestop

Warnings for death and blood mentioned.

"You look at me with cold eyes. You see me me and turn away as if you didn't know me."

"...Do I know you?"

"You know that I couldn't have shown you me. Gave you me. I couldn't show you my weakness so I put on a mask to see you but I still want you. A flower that resembles you blossomed in this garden of loneliness. I wanted to give it to you as I rip off this mask. But I know this can't go on forever."

Her eyes still gazed at the ground. Her body small but still so strong as to crush his soul. Rip his heart out to serve on a platter to herself but somehow still rejected the notion she could do that. The whole world sitting in her grasp yet she was completely naive to it or didn't care she had it.

"I will not satisfy your desires for more than what was agreed. I can accept your apologies but I cannot forgive."

"I have made peace with that notion. But I am not here to beg for forgiveness that I will never receive, for I have hurt you and I accept you're stubborn enough to always hold that grudge."

Her form was ever calm. Looking at him for what felt like a millennia of wait. Time vanishing and space darkening except for the gravitational orbit of beauty that revolved around his mind and shown through his sights since the day he laid his eyes on her visage.

"Then what is it do you seek from me, Michikatsu?"

"It's not what I seek. It's what I desire. Wishing that love is as perfect itself. Wishing all my weaknesses are hidden." The room fell sideways in his mind. An oozing feeling on continuous falling for her over and over again. Swallowed by the monster that demanded he claim and the beast that roared at him for everything he did wrong to be made right again. "In a life where nothing was ever genuine, you carved a piece out of my heart that will never feel complete unless you yourself abide by it's beating."

Her answer a head tilt. Eyes grazing the state he was in. Clawing through bodies. Ravaged by the onslaught of the horrors of war. No doubt such a sight she disliked but was more than ready to accept given the circumstances.

"What desire do you want that I haven't already given to you?"

Blood ran black fading to a possessive desire. A stark contrast the dripping liquid made compared to the delicate object the palm held out. Staining it purity by the blood of the slain and war. Presented to her gaze which widened slightly at soft petals. A beacon of softness in the blight around them.

A flower.

So delicate and small. It's once pure petals soaked in his tainted blood like some offering. The blood he was covered in was his own, caused by an enemy in battle no doubt, and karma for hurting her by leaving in the first place.

"Accept my devotion and become my wife. A place not beneath but beside me. For we were lovers before we were ever born in this world. My name shall be your own, your blood shall be mine, and all combinations of life will be one. Accept all of me, as I already have all of you."

She stared at him like that he told her was the most foolish thing he ever said. Heart racing. Eyes staring. Her hand slowly reaching out to him. His eyes widening as the desire he's been wanting finally being fulfilled- Until she stopped.

Her lungs filled with a shaking breath. "....Finish talking if you must, but I have no intention of bowing to a king who wears a crown studded with the jewels of every sin he committed. Who's hands are stained with every life he's taken."

For once he looked taken aback stopping just a few steps away from herself. "I-....Can not leave so easily."

"Then why?" Her face as cold as the blade he used, cutting him to the core with just her eyes. "It was so easy the first time."

"Why? You have got the arms I want to be wrapped in. You have got the eyes I want to get lost in. You have the smile I can never resist. You have got the voice I want to listen to for hours. I decided on you. I want you and only you."

"I fell in love with your words! Unfortunately they were all lies!"

"No. That's not true." His face unwavered as he approached her once more. "I didn't lie that I love you. It wasn't a lie before and it certainly isn't a lie now."

Her body did not give him the satisfaction of an embrace nor the courtesy of a smile as his other hand caressed her cheeks.

"You're a dangerous man."

"The most dangerous person is the one who listens, thinks, and observes."

"And that means what to me?"

His face unchanged as did hers as the two stared. Both in familiarity and as strangers to each other. Bound by a string he continued to refuse to be cut to untie them.

"I'm not so sure yet myself but for now..my mind is unchanged."