#That's the name now there's an official name sue me

[kindheartedgummybears]

and thus the lore grows

@everglowingstars what are we creating.

[korn-maze]

🍉The Watermelon Puma Tracksuit🍉

💚🍉💚🍉

[cattordi]

a/n hi i have explanation as to why i was gone for so long please don’t sue me. i wrote this after watching saltburn and watching 2037633 felix edits. but i honestly forgot how to write so im getting back into it. don’t judge :P

summary it’s 2006 and you’re an american who recently decided to study overseas in england at oxford and there’s one person who just won’t leave you alone

pairings felix catton x american!reader

warnings smut, orgasm control, begging, foul language, creampie/breeding, overstimulation, slight choking, oral sex, not proofread, smoking cigarettes(not reader), unprotected sex, fluff, angst, name calling, daddy kink, praise, 18+ MINORS DNI

chips or crisps?

“can i just get a vodka martini?” you ask the bartender. he nods and quickly scurries off to make your drink.

england is not what you expect it to me. it’s nice. nicer than america in your opinion but the people were something.

one person you just couldn’t shake stood in all his glory across the pub. “he’s gorgeous right?” a redheaded girl says as she walks from his direction towards you.

“uh no not really” you lie. no one in their right mind could think that felix catton was unattractive. he’s 6’5, has a gorgeous smile, and a very very hot body. the only thing about him that bothered you was how he teased you. m

you didn’t know if it was because you liked him or what. “no one thinks felix is unattractive. felix doesn’t even think felix is unattractive.” the redhead continues saying.

“um do i know you?” you ask as the bartender slides your drink across the bar and you had him 4 pounds. “oou an american. i’m annabel” she says.

“hm.” you say and turn to look in felix’s direction again. hes now looking over at the bar where you and annabel are. first hes staring at annabel and then his eyes wander over to you; catching your gaze. you quickly look away not wanting to hold eye contact but for some reason your eyes wander right back to him.

he’s now smiling at you goofily because you got caught staring.

you roll your eyes and turn back facing the bar. annabel walks away after getting her drinks and now you’re officially by yourself again.

just the way you liked it.

you finish off your drink and quickly get a new one.

times passes and more people start filing into the pub; which calls for more drinks. “chips or crisps?” you hear next to you and you already know who it is.

“what do you want felix?” you groan and throw your head back.

the way your mouth is open and your neck is exposed makes felix feel a way inside. “is it chips or crisps?”

“felix i swear-“ you begin but he cuts you off. “you swear what love?” he begins and you finally look at him, “you’re you’re slap me? you’ve done that before.”

“what is your fascination with me?” you snap and he looks so amused.

“that,” he says a points at me, “what you just did is my fascination with you love.” furrowing your eyebrows he continues, “the way i get you all riled up without even touching you.” he says and his mouth is next to your ear at the point.

the smell of bourbon wraps around your head and into your nose. “you’re drunk.” you say and he chuckles.

“i’m not. lighten up y/n, you know i like teasing you.”

you can’t really tell if he’s lying so you just stop talking hoping he goes away after he gets his drinks.

newsflash: he doesn’t.

“y/n?” he says.

“what could you want now felix?”

“talk to me, love.”

“don’t call me that.. and no.”

“you just spoke to me.”

you don’t speak this time and he chuckles, “this little game we’re playing,” he begins and gestures between the two of you,” is lovely.” his accent warms you inside.

“i’m leaving.” you groan and push off your chair. you quickly gather your purse and coat before walking out; all while not even glancing at felix.

the cold england air hits you like a truck as you step outside. “it’s awfully cold.” felix says.

you jump at the unexpected sound of his voice. “felix what the hell are you doing?”

“don’t be foolish y/n. it’s 10 at night. i’m walking you back to your dorm.”

“i don’t need you to walk me back.” you say and he shrugs, “i didn’t ask you that did i?”

“whatever.” you begin walking and you can hear felix walking behind you.

after about 5 minutes of walking he finally speaks, “so y/n why don’t you like me?”

you ignore him but he won’t take that for an answer, “y/n answer the bloody question.”

you still don’t answer.

“for fucks sake,m y/n.” he says and he sounds upset. “whatever.” is all you hear before a hand wraps around your wrist pulling you between a small alley.

“felix let go.” you groan in annoyance that he won’t just leave you alone. but behind your little act, you want him to bother you; in more ways than others.

“stop acting like i don’t exist.” he begins as he gets close to your ear, “stop acting like i don’t have an effect on you.”

“you don’t.” you whisper and that pisses him off more.

“y/n,” he scoffs and you feel yourself beginning to get wet,”you act the way you do because you know, everything i do makes you feel good.”

if only he knew how true that statement was.

you shake your head, looking up at him. “listen, im not like every other girl who bows down to you. you can’t think i’m just gonna give out.”

“and why wouldn’t you love? i see the effect i have on you. i try to be so nice to you love.. and you push me away.” he begins as his hand slides into your mini skirt. “i bet you’re soaking for me.”

you refuse to make eye contact so you look down at his chest. “look at me love.” you shake your head now causing him to grab you by your jaw. “i said look at me.”

you whimper quietly at the feeling of his hand now touching the wet spot of your panties. felix’s eyes soften at your sound, “do i make you this wet love?”

after a few seconds, you finally give into all the feelings. so you nod your head but this doesn’t satisfy him, “words.”

“yes.”

“good girl. now,” he begins before pulling his hands out of your panties; causing you to whimper again at the lost of touch, “let’s go to my dorm. i’m not taking you in a bloody alley, darling.”

with that, he grabs your hand and begins walking quickly in the direction of the dorms. you can’t help but notice how big his hand is compared to yours.. and how long his legs are. one of his steps is 3 of yours.

after another 30 seconds of walking he stops. “you walk awfully slow love.”

“well sorry i’m not-“ you begin but yelp as your feet leave the ground and felix throws you over his shoulder. “felix put me down!” you groan.

“darling we are like 3 minutes away. just let me carry you.” he says and smacks your butt. the stinging feeling after keeps you quiet.

those three minutes pass so quickly you don’t even realize he’s walked the stair of his dorm and is now unlocking the door.

slowly, felix sets you down and points to the bed. “take your skirt off.”

you hum in response before pulling your skirt down. he’s watching you intently with his arms crossed. his button up shirt is unbuttoned halfway down; revealing his sculpted chest.

“now your,” he begins and points at your panties. as you slide them off the moon shines on your glistening folds and a low groan comes out of him.

as you discard of you panties, felix walks over and stands between your legs. “look at me.” you do as he says, “is this what you want?”

felix begins squatting down slowly. “do you want to be mine y/n?” he ask when he’s parellel with your pussy. his hot breath sends shivers up your spine. “hm y/n? answer me love.”

his hands wrap around your thighs. “yes felix.. that’s what i want.” you moan out as he begins kissing your inner thigh.

“well before we start.. call me daddy.” he lips your pussy in between words, “and you only cum when i say so. understood?”

you whimper lightly, “yes daddy.”

you’d never called a guy daddy before but it got you off more than you expected.

“well then,” with that felix’s mouth attacks your folds and clit causing your back to arch in pleasure.

your hands find his hair as he continues licking up and down your slit; ever so often he’ll hum and the feeling it gives almost pushes you over the edge.

“can i cum please daddy?” you ask and he hums something that sounds like a no. “please, please i want to cum.”

the begging and humming goes on for another minute or so until felix stops. “what happened?” you ask breathlessly.

“you tasted delicious darling, but i don’t want you to cum until i’m in you.”

he quickly pecks you on the lips before rolling you onto your stomach. you can’t see what he’s doing but his shadow cast on the wall as he stands.

you hear his belt being undone and soon his hand cupping your ass. “god, you’re perfect darling” he groans as his hand slides down; his accent is music to your ears.

“thank you..” you moan as he moves his dick between your wet folds. “thank you what?”

his hand wraps around your throat, “say it y/n.” the way your name rolls off his lips makes you feel so good. “thank you daddy.”

“good girl.” with that he slides in. you couldn’t see how big it was but you could definitely feel it. you moan in pleasurable pain as he stretches you.

doggystyle wasn’t always your first choice of positions because after a lot bit it was too much. every thrust would hit your cervix and begin hurting but with felix: it felt good.

“so- damned- tight.” he says and thrust harder in between words. you dig your face into the comforter moaning.

his hand snakes around your body to the front and begins rubbing your clit in small agonizingly pleasing circles. “felix-“

a sharp smack hits your ass, “that’s not my name y/n.”his hips continue to smack into you as he fucks you senselessly. “what’s my name?”

“fuck i need to cum.” you moan and he smacks your ass again, before grabbing you by the neck and pulling you up towards his chest continuing to fuck you. the new position caused him to hit your g spot in more ways than before. “what’s my name?” he ask through gritted teeth.

you’d never felt this kind of pleasure with anyone before. “can i please cum, daddy?”

“that’s what i like to hear.. but no.” his hand continues massage your swollen bud as he breathes heavily on your neck; fucking you maliciously. “god, do you feel god. all wet for me.. letting me fuck you to no avail like daddys slut.”

“please can i come daddy? please.. you feel so good.” you moan,

he pushes you back onto the bed, holding your by the neck; keeping you in place. “please daddy can i cum?” the feeling of release deepens so much and you can’t take it.

“i can’t take it.” you say through pleasured cries. the way he rubs your clit and hits your g spot repeatedly overstimulates you.

“yes you can and you will y/n.” he begins, “you’re mine now. all mine. no one could fuck you like i do. don’t you agree?”

you nod while whimpering out hushed “yes daddy”’s

“good. do you want to cum?”

“yes, yes please.”

“beg. and make sure it’s loud. i want everyone in this dorm to hear how much of a slut you are for my cock.”

“please daddy. please can i come? i want to make you feel good.” you plead and you have to admit: you can be louder.

“that’s not loud enough darling.” he says and stops rubbing your clit. the lost of friction causes you to whimper. “louder.”

“please daddy. i need to come. please, i can’t take it anymore.” you grab the sheets of his bed and grip them tight as an anchor as he fucks you.

“louder y/n, you’re almost there.” he groans. you can tell he’s getting close as well. his grip on your hips has tightened and you can feel his shaft pulsing slightly against your walls.

his fingers touch your clit again and you moan loudly, “oh my gosh, can i please cum daddy? you feel so good in me. i want to cum all on your dick.”

this time you’re so loud he’s even threatened to cover your mouth. “cum love. milk my cock like i know you’ve wanted too since we met”

at the sound of his permission, you release your orgasm. white flashes take over your vision as you release what felix has took his time to build up.

he continues to fuck you through your orgasm causing more pleasure. moaning loudly, you arch your back towards him. “holy hell, you’re so tight around me.”

he groans and pushes your hips into the bed. his thrust begin to slow and become sputtered movements. “you were made for me y/n.. so perfect.” he groans as releases hot white spurts that coat your walls.

the way he talks to you turns you on even more as you come down from your high. he continues to fuck you slowly as his cum drips out of you and onto your clit.

“fuck y/n..” he moans softly as he pulls out slowly. you continue laying down trying to catch your breath as he stands.

you hear things being more behind you but you’re too weak to turn your head and look. after a few seconds, you feel felix straddling you. “roll over.”

you do as he says to reveal he’s holding a cloth. “open your legs for me..”

slowly, you open your legs to reveal your swollen sex. “you did so good love.”

felix squats lowly and begins wiping you up. “thank you.”

smiling at you he continues,”but you know.. you never answered my question.”

“hm?”

“chips or crisps?”

[suguru-getos]

Yeah my boyfriend’s pretty cool, but he’s not as cool as me — K. Bakugou x f!Reader

Summary: You, a top model meet pro hero Dynamight on your Victoria's Secret fashion show. You didn't know how easily you both could cling like magnets. Maybe you found your soulmate, why else does it seem so easy? So loving? So ethereal? A/N: I missed writing my Jerk (Bakugou) so here I go. The character is giving off Y/N from Wattpad almost (KEKEKEK) :3 What! Sue me! Also brb gonna take a bath in holy water after this. Not beta'd take the typos like a pro ;) also this is probably my longest fic IN A WHILE and that's saying something!!! Warnings: N!pple play, F!ingering, S3x(P in V), missionary, doggy-style, squ!rting, breed!ng, dirty talk, spank!ngs. Let me know if I missed anything. :3 Oh and TOOTH ROTTING FLUFF

You sucked in a breath when you heard the announcements go off, the announcer urging the models to get done with their hair & makeup fast. It wasn’t like any other show, honestly. It was the Victoria’s Secret show. The internet alone can swamp any and every other news when this ‘phenomenon’ occurs. You have been on a strict diet of salads, high pilates & cardio, and for the past two days — dehydration to show your abs more. Being a successful model is all about making it look effortless even if it’s all graft, tenacity & utterless devotion. No career is easy at the end of the day after all.

“Y/n, are you okay? The show is about to start.” Your manager, also the manager of this event comes up to you, long, poised strides in her red bottom pencil heels. She’s wearing a satin, well-tailored coat and a skirt. “Can’t wait to munch on a fucking burger and drink a gallon of cold soda.” You smirk, your eye makeup was completed, the final touches of the makeup setting spray was splayed on by the makeup artist tending to you.

“You look gorgeous, Y/n.” He commented, voice feminine & fashion sense incredible. He was gay, and one of your best friends in the industry. “Man, so many people would be here in the show.” You snorted, “who’s coming to sing?” Your curiosity is piqued. There is always a star who comes in and makes sure the runway ends up a much better experience.

“It’s Jungkook.” Your manager responds curtly.

“Fuckin’ hell they literally bagged Jungkook?” You scoffed almost, ah— shit. Jungkook has a massive following, of course they would. Even if he’s your ex boyfriend. Of course they fucking would. You pursed your lips, your relationship with him was entirely kept a secret. He’s an idol, worshipped infact— and that ended up for the best when you parted ways. The NDA was perfect. Though you often wondered if the glamour you chose for yourself would ever allow you a fair chance at getting the right partner.

“Eh, Jungkook’s not my type.” Your bestie, the makeup artist Samuel hums, his shoulders shrugging up. “I got my eyes on the heroes.” He winks, adjusting the last finished strands of your hair. The heroes…

“I don’t understand why the heroes are invited to stuff like these.” You roll your eyes. It is weird to think about. He chuffs, “oh come on— they’re just as big of celebrities & events like these are all about glamour and showing off.” He snorts, “Dynamight’s coming, Star and Stripes is coming, a lot of the heroes who are under the top three would be here. Gahh I wonder how Dynamight looks in a suit… dude’s fucking jacked. I’m drooling just thinking about it.”

You chuckled, rolling your eyes. “Okay okay, drooling dog. Leave me alone and let me calm my tits before the walk begins.”

Dynamight huh, Katsuki Bakugou. The number one hero of Japan. He is popular enough, you have seen him bag the Calvin Klein’s Times Square ad. Your fingers itched towards your phone, searching up Dynamight on Instagram. There were two accounts. One of them was the official hero account, named Dynamight. The other was— seemingly his personal account, it was named BakugouKatsuki. Both of them were public though. Ah, you will stalk him later. Now isn’t the best time.

You get up, itching in your feet into the pencil heels and stretching your body. Amidst the ruckus, you were given your Victoria’s Secret wings, and your lingerie set. It was beautiful, you’d give them that. They do end up spending and extravagant amount of money for this after all. “Phew, I’m ready.”

There were other models lined up before you, you had been the show-stopper. It’s flamingly obvious not to think much about yourself, but you’d give yourself credit for being one of the top models in the entire industry. You also have a whooping Instagram following, and your socials are always stacked with brand deals. Jungkook was singing Seven, a safe version. You don't want to be delusional and think he chose that song because he wrote it for you, nah, you and him are over for good. Besides, he was in a parasocial relationship with his fans. That's just not your vibe.

You exhaled, engaging your core and coming out finally. It was your turn to go in and leave the crowd in absolute awe. Your time to shine! Yeah, your time to shine. No matter how many shows you have participated in, the feeling before the runway is second to none. You stepped out, peppering flying kisses to the crowd as you passed by Jungkook, catwalking.

You didn't think the first person your eyes would meet would be Bakugou himself, it was eye contact that lasted a few seconds, as you turned around and walked back inside, coming out with the fashion designer and clapping.

"What was that Bakubro?" Red Riot was sitting beside his high school best friend, smirking when he noticed Katsuki caught red-handed. "Didn't you say you have no interest in watching models and this was a waste of time?" He snickers, pulling Katsuki's leg.

Katsuki.... on the other hand, was mesmerized. He had never seen someone so beautiful. Honestly, he wasn't one to keep up with the models and the glamour the industry had to offer. He had a simple routine, focus on training, go patrolling, partake in brand deals, and sleep by 9 pm. This seemed different, especially when the eye contact you both had was so magnetic. What the fuck was happening to him he wondered... why was he behaving like a high school student all over again. Dynamight was in his late twenties now. It's not to say that he hasn't dated people at all, he has, in fact, he has a fair share of girlfriends too. He just wasn't expecting you to latch onto his heart & rip it out of his chest (respectfully).

Maybe he dan divert his mind until after the show. The Victoria's Secret brand had dealings with the Bulgari Hotel in Milan. (Where the show was held), of course, your and Katsuki's suites would be on the same floor. The show was a huge success, you knew it the moment you walked back inside and got jump-hugged by the entire team. They loved your walk, and it made you grin like an appreciated child.

"Finally I can binge." You snickered, getting out after thirty minutes or so from the show. In your head, the eye-contact with the ruby-eyed man was nothing much, merely a coincidence perhaps. You don't know much about Bakugou Katsuki anyway. You do tell your gay best friend about it though, chuckling & giggling at how he loses his mind over it. "I think Dynamight will stay in the same hotel as mine, but before leaving, I can secure an autograph for you if you'd like."

"YOU'D DO THAT?" Samuel is on top of the world when he hears your offer. How nice and kind of you. "I could do that of course!" You smile, he has been great and helpful in calming your nerves before your show. You can do that for him without thinking twice. "Great, thank you so much Y/N! You are a literal gem." He whines, kicking feet in excitement. "Dynamight's known for being intimidating and a no-bullshit guy, so just be...careful." He smiled. You raised a brow at the description, chuckling. Whatever, it's just an autograph. You were sure Samuel was just fangirling.

You walked towards Bakugou and his friend Red Riot, wearing a plain white tee shirt and some shorts. A Prada handbag over your shoulder, Cartier bracelet set on your left arm, and some boots just so you look fine in case you get accidentally papped. "Uh oh, Hottie alert, Hottie alert. She's coming this way Bakugou." Kirishima warns, while Katsuki doesn't turn, smirking. "Maybe she's into you just as much huh?" "Shut up, Kiri. I'm not even into her." What a lie, what a damned lie, because when you tap his shoulder, his entire body shudders.

"Hey- Dynamight, hi!" You smile, watching him turn to face you. Geez, he's tall and big, the blonde doesn't make him look any less intimidating. He has a scar on his eye but it only accentuates his gruff and masculine look. You swallow, "Hey there." Katsuki raises a brow, smirking at you. "Y/N right? The fabulous show stopper." He praises, and you can't help but blush a little.

"Hehe, yeah, thank you so much." You gently tussle through your bag, taking out a notepad. "Can I please get an autograph?" You smile, you wouldn't be one of those cunts who would outrightly say that it's not for you. Why do you need to specify explicitly anyway? "Aww, she's a fan?" Katsuki grins, taking the notepad from you. "Haha!" You don't respond. You don't want to ruin the vibe of the interaction. Unlucky for you, Bakugou is a pest. "So should I write Y/N, or ShowStopper Y/N?" He smirked, uh oh... "You can make two?" You raised a brow, smiling softly. "One for me and one for Samuel, my makeup artist." You smile. "Sure can." He writes the autograph, smirking, "You didn't want an autograph did ya?" Ouch, how did he catch you red-handed so easily? "Hm? Why do you feel so?" You raise a brow, taking the notepad from him. "I'm the number one hero of Japan, Sweetheart. I got my own tricks up my sleeve." He smirked, oh what a charming guy. You wonder why is he infamous for being intimidating then... maybe just his personality and his looks. "I don't mind getting one, honestly, who knows I might become a fan in the future." You smiled back. "Oh yeah? That's gonna make me real fuckin' proud of yer taste, Sweetheart." He grins, and Kirishima has long excused Bakugou and you to chitchat alone.

You chuckled, oh my, he was cocky and yet charming enough to pull it off. Meanwhile, all Bakugou thought was how your eyes are so pretty, and you smile so easily it should be illegal. Your smile makes even the crankiest of people smile. Him included.

"Whatcha doin' after this?" He asks you, raising a brow. Please be free, please be free. "Ah- it's just, my own ritual of unwinding after fashion shows to go and binge on junk food. I am going to this amazing pizza place." You smile, and Bakugou notices your body, you are stunning, but it's clear you need to maintain unrealistic standards for this. "Mind if I join?" He confidently asks, Bakugou Katsuki's confidence ever since he was a child was sky high. He doesn't mind chasing what he wants, he doesn't mind latching on to what he wants. He doesn't mind putting in the work for what he wants. Whether it's the number one hero ranking, or his new ambition - You.

"You can." You perk up, of course, you don't mind that. You wonder if he's asking you on a date or just hanging out with you. "Alright then, let's go?" You ask him again, truth be told you were starving. You need a lot of water down your stomach and also, food. "Lead the way Kitten."

You blink at the nickname, Kitten? "Kitten?" You snorted, why? "Yeah, cus you walk the show like a little lion cub," he smirked, quite assertive behind his reasoning. It makes your heart flutter. "I, see... interesting. Is it something you do? Give people you like, nicknames?" "Yeah, it's a me thing," Katsuki smirked, he loved how you sneakily asked him whether he likes you or not. "I do that to people I hate too though." He teased, biting his lip and smirking at the confused pout. "Not you though, I like ya." He admits upfront. Katsuki doesn't want to play games. It's either he doesn't give a shit, or he's into it dedicatedly.

You gnaw at your lip, walking ahead of him, thank god your back is turned towards him. Else you'd be embarrassed of just how easily he can sway you off your feet. You and him get into the car after, driving to the nearest pizza place. Your knees touch during the car ride, fuck why are you thinking about the slightest of touches Jesus! Neither of you avoid the touch though. "So I'm guessing the pre-walk schedule is pretty ass, huh?" You like that he wants to know about you in a 'I want to get to know you better' sense and not in a 'I want to hook up and leave you after' sense. "Yeah, the last four days I have been dehydrated. I can enjoy in peace now though, before the next show." You nod, looking at him in the eyes, evaluating his expressions. Bakugou looks, conflicted. On one hand, he admires this, on the other hand, he's pissed that this is what gets imposed. He clicks his tongue, "If I were to organize a damn show I'd make sure none of the dehydration shit happens, tch." You chuckle at how intensely he feels about it. It makes you feel validated, makes you feel seen and heard. "Yeah? Maybe you can organize one for your merch." You winked.

"Fuckin' Brilliant aren'tcha?" Katsuki exclaims, grinning wide. He would, and you'd be the show stopper, and it would be a statement towards normalizing human bodies. It sounds so perfect in his head, he would definitely bother his Assistant about this later.

When you both reached the Pizza place, Bakugou gets your door, smirking when you are almost shocked by it. "What? The least ya can do is expect a Hero to be chivalrous, ye?" You giggle, holding his hand, noticing the sheer difference in your hands versus his. Your hands are soft, meek, delicate, having their own hand care routine. His hands are smooth, a little moist due to sweat which you think doesn't bother him. It doesn't bother you either honestly. Plus, he smells amazing... almost in a way that could make you dizzy from it all.

"Um, what should I call you? Dynamight? Bakugou? Katsuki? Japanese people prefer to be called by their last name until they explicitly give permission, no?" You have done a few shows in Japan and know a thing or two about their culture. Bakugou only smirks harder, holding your hand & caressing it with the pad of his thumb, he leans it up to show you. "If I'm holdin' yer hand, I'd prefer to be called Katsuki, Sweetheart." "Y-Yeah, right." You are flustered. The way he looks at you is so intense and yet calming. This man is almost paradoxical.

You both get inside, taking one of the cozy booths of the restaurant. The vibe of the place is luxurious, Grenadil, African Blackwood, lamps which are delicately hand-carved. The place speaks Old-Money.

Bakugou takes a seat next to you, handing you the laminated menu with exquisite handwritten Calligraphy, "There ya go." He smirks. You notice the menu he has given you has no prices on the dishes. He has his own menu. "Uh, they have no money imprinted, are you sure this menu is okay?" This is your first time seeing this. "Yeah, s' okay. S' cus y'er not supposed to be worrying about the price of the dishes." He says it rather assertively. "The man should." He shows his menu. Oh- Of course, for a place this extra, they would have some new ritual like this for all the trophy-wives. "Katsuki- no- I'd feel guilty." You pouted. "Yeah? Yer gonna feel guilty for it bein' my job to spoil ya? On a date? Our first date?" All of a sudden, every doubt in your mind is faded. Things were escalating so quickly yet, you feel like you know this man for years, how bizarre, how comforting, how amazing! The way your heart breaks into little palpitations of excitement is second to none.

You looked down, a hue of red creeping into your cheeks. ''Gah would ya look at that!" Bakugou points at your flustered expression instantly. "She's the prettiest baddest Queen in this world, and I got her feelin' cutesy and feminine, ye?" Yes, yes it has... it's always the little things after all. You chuckle, looking up at him, extending your hand over the table so he could hold it. "You smell amazing, Katsuki." You compliment him too.

Honestly, you have never felt someone smelling this amazing as Bakugou. "Yeah? Part of my charm." He croons in his gravelly voice, the tip of his tongue brushing his upper teeth in a mischievous grin. "S' a part of my quirk." He admits, leaning back and manspreading a little. Your heart feels like it would jump out of your chest at that, you swallow the thick lump of saliva. "Yeah?" "Yeah, that's right Sweetheart." Bakugou hums again, kissing your knuckle. "What about you, have any quirks?" "Unfortunately, nope." You chuckle, a little embarrassed. You know if this man is the number one hero of Japan, he must have a formidable quirk after all. "Aw, she's my little quirkless rarity gem ain't she?" "Yeah."

Katsuki's words were healing something within you that you didn't know was broken. You were feeling all sorts of things, slightly aghast at how easily your senses feel dizzy around the true embodiment of masculinity. A little merry on how you don't have to think about anything and let him take care of you. You needed this after the tough show you've had. You ordered a pizza, and some drinks with it. "So, what next?" You don't want to get too ahead of yourself either. Maybe all this could fade the moment you both sleep together.

"Next, we go on another date, then another, then another. In between those dates, I'll steal a kiss or two." He grins. Making you chuckle, how old school... "That's all you will steal?" You ask him, quite upfront on your own this time. "Mm~ I can't be too greedy or I might make a certain Kitten uncomfortable." He winks.

"Would I make a certain hero uncomfortable if I stole more than a kiss?" You smirk, watching Bakugou grin in surprise. "Nah, the hero wants what his Princess wants." He admits shamelessly.

The dinner goes by in a haze, Bakugou asks you about your family, how many people are there in your nuclear family, you ask him, a little bit of what and hows about starting a career. You get to know he's a Taurus, and his MBTI Type is ENTJ, his Enneagram is 8w7. No wonder he is so steadfast and determined. The dinner ended with you two getting back to go to the same hotel, walking and chit-chatting through your lives, how a daily routine in your lives looks like, favourite coffee order, favourite animals, favourite bands, favourite brands, favourite foods.... until Bakugou was in front of your suite.

"Uhm, goodnight Katsuki." You smile, getting on your tippy toes and kissing his lips softly. A burning sensation ripples through your nerves instantly. Oh no- now you can't stop. Now he can't stop. There is an unsaid desperation in the way you & him deepen the kiss, a relief washing over you as the suite's door gets unlocked with a beeping sound of your card against the sensor.

You jump on him immediately, cupping his face, scratching his undercut, rabid pants echoing through the room as you lean back to catch a breath. "Wildin' aren't we?" Bakugou smirked, leaning you against the wall with his hand supporting the back of your head as he kissed you more, fuck you have awakened something carnal within him. "Yeah- yeah-" You manage to choke on your breaths as he dives against your neck, nibbling at the supple skin, licking the tender ache. "Katsuki- please-" You want more. Especially now when you can feel his semi nudged against your heat. You want it so bad, you didn't even know him a few hours ago... and now here you were.

"Yeah? Are ya sure?" He asks, seriously. He doesn't need this to be hurried. "Yeah, I'm sure."

And that was all Bakugou needed, his lips smashing against you once more, tongue exploring your mouth, colliding against yours, his mouth wrapping around your tongue and suckling nastily. Katsuki leans back, a string of saliva connecting your lips and his. He supports you by your booty, hands kneading the area on your clothed shorts as he manspreads on the couch, watching how you straddle him. You take off your shirt on your own, and unhook your tee shirt bra next. Before you can switch to your shorts, Katsuki removes his own shirt. Oh my god-

He is jacked, and there are battle scars all over his body. Your hand leans in, absentmindedly tracing one of them. You could only imagine how dangerous it must be, how dangerous his line of work is. Everyday he keeps his life on the line to protect people like you - to protect those who can't fend for themselves. Your eyes softened, and Bakugou notices you lean into the duvet of your thoughts. "Hey, they're from years ago." He smirked, kissing your cheek. "Literal years, when I was Baby Dynamight." He chuckled, lightening up your mood instantly. He leans in, hands kneading and groping at your now perky breasts and tits. "She's fuckin' stunning god damn." He cusses under his breath, eagerly wrapping his tongue around one of the nipples, while his fingers pinched and played around with the other. The sensation sends waves of pleasure down your core, it aches so deliciously good. You lean your head back, gasping out at the welcomed assault on your body. This was beyond perfect. "Katsuki-" You mumbled, just chanting his name as he switches to the other nipple, his hand caressing your sides, knuckles caressing the temples of your cheek. "Mhm~ so perfect, Princess."

Every action only makes you dive deeper into a space you've never dived on before. His fingers skilfully unbutton your shorts next, peeling off your panties. "Let's check what's the situation." He smirks, though his ruby eyes are steeled on your face. Massive hands cupping your bare pussy, you can feel your essence coat his palm, but you're not shy anymore. You want him to know he does this to you. You want him to be aware of the effect he has on you. "Fuckin' soaking." He smirked, middle finger and ring finger parting your entrance while his middle finger nudged against your tight hole. The tip pierces inside your pussy almost instantly. "Oh perfect little thing." He snickers, curling it just the right way to make your eyes roll back. "Yeah baby, keep makin' that pretty face f'me." He groans, leaning in and latching onto your sensitive tits again. "Not sorry bout it in the least, need to mark ya." He groans, suckling against your skin, marking your breasts in hickeys while he drills his finger inside your cunt. The pleasure has you reeling soon, eyes rolling back. "Katsuki- please-" you buck your hips against him helplessly, pussy twitching and fluttering shamelessly. "Yeah baby? Gonna cum?" He croons, smirking at the way your body gets littered in goosebumps. "Mhm~ Yeah." You nodded like a bobble head, the pleasure reaching new heights. "Gonna make a mess on Daddy's fingers?" he asks again, almost edging you. The new nickname has you clamping tightly as a reaction, Bakugou chuckles. "Then cum."

Your entire body shivers at the assault, his thumb finding it's way to your clit, rubbing in rhythmic circles around the bundle of nerves, watching you tweak and tremble. "Atta girl! Good job little one." He smirked, quickly changing your position to laying on the couch with him hovering over you. His hand never leaves your clit, pulling out a long and tiring orgasm as his massive cock greets you. Before you could say anything before you could protest in whines that his massive, veiny cock could never fit inside you. It could break you- his cock fills you up instantly.

You see white, your senses are torn apart. The pain surges through your body like venom, filled with excruciating amounts of pleasure. You scream out, cunt almost ripped open despite being so wet and so lubed. "Kah- AH- t'suki-" You are broken, this is exactly how you expected it to feel like. Still, you want him to move, you want him to make you feel better. You want him to show you how it feels when he's pistoning this inside and out, when he's ruining your insides his shape.

Bakugou leans in, caressing your face and peppering it with soft kisses. "Yeah Princess, you did it." He praises, and you couldn't help but rut your hips against him at the praise. You need him. "Uh huh? Wan' Daddy to take care of you?" He smirked at that, relishing your shameless movements, his cock jams against your pussy, fervour akin to an animal in a rut. You feel so good he can't help but want more either, thrusts powerful enough to cause your breasts to jiggle from the impact. "Atta girl, look at you, taking me like yer made for me." he groans, watching your fucked out expressions, listening to your melodious cries that only make him push you further. "Kah- Mm!"

His hand caresses your clit, pinching at the sensitive bundle of nerves, tap-slapping it, caressing it, playing with it. Every movement sends you reeling towards the peak of pleasure. It's not too long before you feel like cumming again, a familiar knot building in your pelvis, eager to snap. "Gonna fill ya up, yeah? Need your insides to know who knocked em up' need yer pussy to know who fucked her up, who stretched her up, who ripped her up to his shape-" The way he speaks is making you spiral, your mouth falls agape as another orgasm tears through you. Helplessly wailing and letting your pussy flutter around his muscular and veiny cock. His own release comes with it, hot and thick seed painting your insides his.

You're panting like you've just run a marathon, Bakugou's sweat only making your senses hazy with its sweet, caramel scent.

"Got one more in ya?" Bakugou asks with a smirk, watching your eyes widen. You are thinking, you are contemplating. "N-never did it before." You answered honestly. "Good, then it's my princess' first time." He smirked, manhandling you to bend over the couch's arm rest, letting your legs nudge together. "Get on yer tippy toes Kitten." he kneads at your ass, spanking it once just to test the waters.

The whore-ish moan that comes out of your mouth at that only makes him more amazed. "She likes spankings huh?" He smirks, slapping on the other side and watching his hand print cover almost your whole ass cheek. "Fuck-" He hissed at the sight, watching you get on your tippy toes as he pierces your cum-dripping pussy once again. Your stomach is already pressed by the arm-rest. The position is enough to make you see stars, you can't form words. Just mewling and moaning with mouth open. His thrusts are a lot precise, a lot sharper, a lot more calculated and a lot more rough.

The force of his pelvis colliding against your ass feels like spankings in itself, your womb is crying at the feeling, your cunt squelching and making lewd noises that echo like music to his ears, just perfectly entwined with your loud moans. "Fuck- you are bloody gonna have me addicted to this shit." He groans, sounds of pap- pap- paps filling the room.

You feel weird, you feel like you could pee from the pressure alone. "Katsuki- feel like gonna squirt." You whine, embarrassed. "Aw, it's okay, do it." He hums, hand wrapping around your hair and tilting your head back for a passionate kiss.

And so you let go, you don't have any choice anyway with his thrusts ripping your pussy. "Fuck- fuck-" and so you end up squirting, the liquid dripping down your thighs as you cum your brains out. Katsuki tips off the edge at the sight too, oh what a lovely mess indeed. "Oh that's fuckin' incredible" He chuckles, slowing his thrusts to a stop.

You are floating in subspace already. You can't believe the hero you were going to stalk on Instagram has your insides bred, twice. Katsuki carries you princess-way and takes you to the bedroom, "gonna get ya some water, you were so amazin' holy shit Princess." he chuckles, peppering your face with soft, feather-like kisses. You only hum and groan in response, he literally fucked your brain into mush.

He returned with some water and added electrolytes that he found in the fridge to ensure better hydration. "Come on, champ, c'mere." He cradles you on his lap like a baby - his baby to be precise. He held the glass for you, letting you drink from the straw while his other hand is busy petting your body soothingly, your arms, your hair, your back.

"Do you want to sign an NDA? If we're gonna be a thing?" You asked him, genuinely curious, but it upsets him that this is the first thing that you say. This industry really is disgusting. "Nah, I'd like you to sign an NBA."

You raised a brow, what does that mean? "Mm?"

"Non-Breakup Agreement" He chuckled, watching you giggle too as he leaned in and kissed your lips.

[da-rulah]

Rubenesque - Secondo x F! Plus Size Reader

Summary: Retirement had its perks. For Secondo, one of those was being able to spend much more time on the things he enjoyed. And there were only two things he truly enjoyed these days; art, and you. Although if you asked him, he’d insist that they were one and the same.

So how would he react when he learns that your peers are mocking your sinfully gorgeous body, and you're struggling to love yourself?

Rating: Explicit, 18+ Only

Word Count: 7.8k

Warnings: Fatphobic comments, low self esteem, sensual sex, semi-public sex, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), body worship, p in v sex, creampie 

A/N: Yes, this is self-indulgent. Sue me. And whilst it is a plus size reader fic, anybody can still enjoy Artist Secondo who enjoys his women...

Disclaimer: The painting in the header has been modified using photoshop to edit out a creepy old man. It is a Rubens painting, named "The Hermit and the Sleeping Angellica". It's important to also note, Rubens never painted any scenes for the satanic church. This is fiction for this particular story.

ALSO AVAILABLE ON AO3 | TIP JAR

Retirement had its perks. For Secondo, one of those was being able to spend much more time on the things he enjoyed. And there were only two things he truly enjoyed these days; art, and you. Although if you asked him, he’d insist that they were one and the same.  

Except, you were finding it harder and harder to believe him in that regard. With the whispers of harsh siblings as you passed in the hall managing to reach your ears, you were struggling more and more to understand why you were one of Secondo’s favourite things at all. He was unaware of your harsh feelings towards yourself, let alone of the whispers in the halls. But then, now he spent most of his time in his art studio on the edge of the grounds, you weren’t surprised that he was oblivious to the going’s on in the Ministry. Now that his younger brother was running the show, he didn't have to meddle quite so much in the politics of the Clergy. He’d only get involved when they tried to undermine Terzo; something he would never stand for, no matter how much he aggravated him. The burden had been passed on, and after decades of devotion and servitude, he figured he’d earned a little respite. 

His studio was his sanctuary. Few were allowed to set foot inside; the exceptions being his brothers, and you, naturally. You still remember the first time he invited you in. It had been one of your first official dates, and he’d set up a quaint little dinner by candlelight surrounded by his art and tools, showing you a piece of him so heavily guarded from the outside world, lest they think he’d gone soft.  

The studio itself was rather beautiful. It had once been a greenhouse, ornate green iron housing panels of thick glass from floor to ceiling. The panes considered as walls were covered in old stained-glass patterns of every colour in the shape of intricate florals. It had belonged to Papa Primo before, but in his old age, he simply didn’t have the time to run multiple greenhouses, and chose to keep the ones he did work out of closer to the Abbey itself to save him the trouble of a long walk. But for Secondo, it was perfect.  

Now out of commission, the old greenhouse had been repurposed into his own studio. Shelves of pots had been replaced by blank canvases; racks of plants now saved for his supplies. He’d added a potter’s wheel and small kiln at some point too – one of his many artistic adventures that he revisited from time to time.  

But his chosen medium had always been oil paints. Despite his talents in clay sculpting, pottery, sketch work, watercolour - any and all of it - oil paints were the greatest weapon in his arsenal. Many of his paintings hung in the Ministry, amongst the art commissioned centuries ago by various painters of the Renaissance and Baroque eras. Some of these painters had been commissioned to do large pieces in Catholic places of worship too, but had been swayed by the money and a promise of a life free from judgement to paint beautifully dark imagery throughout.  

Secondo’s oil paintings fit right in, his style similar to the artists he’d admired for much of his life. His subject matter varied, from beautiful scenes of sin, to intricate studies of the human form, to landscapes and still life. You adored his work, finding yourself having to rotate the canvases you hung in your quarters when he’d gift you a new one every so often.  

As Secondo spent the summer evening on the finer details of a scene from the Book of Revelations, the sun had begun to illuminate the colours of the stained glass with a warmth that cascaded over the stone floors. When you’d quietly entered into the studio so as not to disturb his focus, you were struck yet again by the beauty of his hideout.  

The coloured rays of light cascaded over your lover, stood at his easel without any acknowledgement of your arrival. How one man could look so dreamy, as if he’d been plucked from the most romantic of novels, was beyond you. You could only see him from behind, but it didn’t go unnoticed how his shirt sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, the fabric stretching over his thick arms and solid back and tucked into his slacks. His apron was tied around his waist, pulling him in and showcasing a strong torso that Pythagoras himself would theorise about.  

Secondo was an artwork you wished you could paint and immortalise yourself. But you’d have to settle for committing this to memory instead as you approached where he stood, pulling a stool from a workbench and gently setting it down beside him.  

“Buonasera, amore mio,” he greeted as you sat, never taking his eyes from the canvas as his fingers handled his brush so carefully.  

“That’s beautiful,” you told him honestly, eyes scanning the half-finished work of the Whore of Babylon atop her beast of seven heads.  

Secondo smiled, his eyes flicking to the side to look at you briefly as he muttered a “grazie.” He continued the detail he was trying to finish, the two of you settling into comfortable silence. You hadn’t come here to chat, anyway – more to escape, than anything. You had once again heard harsh whispers of cruel siblings as you’d passed them in the halls not twenty minutes before deciding to find Secondo, and you weren’t sure you could take anymore today. You simply wanted his company. 

“I may need your assistance soon, mia musa (my muse),” he announced after a few moments of quiet. “I will finish this soon, and I need some... inspiration,” he paused to smirk back at you momentarily, “for my next work.”  

“What could I help with?” you asked, your tone somewhat dejected. Secondo stilled, his brow creasing as his head tilted slightly in your direction enough to be able to study you. If you’d been looking at him instead of your fingers in your lap, you’d have seen the way he squinted at you, noticing everything.  

“I want to paint you, mia musa,” he explained so gently, reaching towards you to tilt your chin up to him. When he met your eyes, he knew instantly something was the matter; you never avoided his gaze like that. 

“I wouldn’t make a very good subject matter...” you shook your head, standing up and wandering over to the rack of finished canvases Secondo was yet to do anything with. You looked through them, your mind elsewhere unable to really take in the art itself.  

Secondo studied you from his easel, watching with concerned curiosity. Something wasn’t right; that was incredibly obvious to him. He’d known you long enough and intimately enough to know that you weren’t yourself. And it didn’t sit right with him that you were putting yourself down either.  

You ran your fingertips over the tops of a particular art piece of his, feeling the texture of dried paint as your thoughts raced through every comment you’d heard through the halls since your relationship with Secondo had gone public. Such hurtful things about you and how you looked... 

“At least Papa Secondo is strong - he’ll need to be...” 

“I know... he could have his pick of sisters, and he chose her?”  

The laughter and digs at your body rattled around in your head; so much so, that you weren’t aware that Secondo had noticed at all until two strong arms were wrapping themselves around your waist from behind you, his unusually bare palms flattening against your stomach which had you recoiling instinctively. Secondo’s hold on you loosened, his hands hovering around you instead as he tried to work out what he’d done wrong. 

“Amore, I-” 

“I’m uh... I’m sorry, just...” you back peddled, trying to find an excuse for how you were acting that wouldn’t result in more questions, but you had nothing. Instead, you slid out from between him and the rack in front of you, back to his easel to find something to occupy your hands and avoid further conversation. You’d come here to watch him work in silence, to avoid people yet to not feel alone. You didn’t want to talk about this and make it into a bigger deal than it was. 

But Secondo watched you still, feeling oddly rejected for the first time with you. You’d never refused his touch before, never run away from him before. He could only imagine he might have said or done something wrong... Perhaps he was spending too much of his attention on his art and not on you. But that had never been an issue before – he’d always made such an effort to balance his affections.  

He took a few steps towards you, slowly like he was testing the waters, but you could barely even look at him, studying his half-finished painting instead as your cheeks began to ache from holding back unshed tears.  

“Have... Have I upset you, amore?” he asked cautiously, keeping his distance if that’s what you wanted. You pressed your lips together hard, taking a deep breath in and shaking your head. “You can tell me, I won’t be angry. I’d like to know so I could correct it-” 

“You haven’t,” you interrupted him, still focussed on the painting as one pesky little tear dripped down your cheek. With such a keen eye for detail, he noticed immediately, and his chest tightened. He was at your side in just a few quick strides. 

“Amore, what is it?” he asked, frantic but being so gentle with you as if he’d break you with a simple touch. His fingertips once again guided your chin to look at him, and when you saw the concern and fear in his eyes you could hardly hold up the dam anymore. 

You tried to speak, but the words got stuck in your throat. You didn’t want him to worry, and you knew if you told him everything, he’d want names. But now the tears were flowing, it made speaking all that much harder. Secondo waited patiently, wiping at the tears as they fell with the pads of his thumbs.  

“I just... I’m not sure I understand why... you’re attracted to me,” you hiccupped, your shoulders shaking, eyes trained on your feet. Secondo was taken aback... Why wouldn’t he be attracted to you? 

“Amore, you... you are one of the most beautiful creatures I have ever laid eyes on, what are you talking about? Have I not been making you feel so?” he panicked, immediately thinking perhaps he had been neglecting you in some way. But surely not, he told you how beautiful you were at least once a day in some shape or form. And it wasn’t as if your sex life together had been dwindling...  

“N-no, I know you are attracted to me, I just... Don’t understand why,” you sniffled, meeting his eyes. “Nobody else would-” 

“Why does anybody else matter?” That stumped you. You couldn’t explain yourself without informing him of what he didn’t hear himself when he spent his days in his studio, away from the whispers. You didn’t have much choice, here... 

“They... they talk,” you mumbled.  

“Who?” 

“The siblings. They whisper, they believe you deserve better, they don’t understand why you would pick me.”  

Secondo’s face darkened, the hard lines of a lifetime of stress forming deeper crevices across his brow. He was infuriated to know that members of his own congregation could be so narrow minded, despite the decades of teachings of what beauty meant and learning to accept anybody and everybody, no matter who they are or how they looked... But above that, he was enraged at the thought they were hurting you. He would find them and tear them a new asshole – but his first and only concern was you. 

“There is not a single thing about you that isn’t beautiful, amore. Do you not see it?” That only made you cry harder, because no, you didn’t see it. You had struggled with your body image for so long, and while you did your best to tell yourself you were beautiful despite your hang ups about your weight, you’d never come to love yourself in the way you intended.  

“I just... I struggle to see how all this,” you gestured to your body, “is beautiful. It’s not easy when the world is constantly telling you your body is wrong,” you cried. Secondo had no idea of the years of torment you’d faced at the hands of your peers, no matter where in life you found yourself. Beauty standards had plagued you for the longest time, and it constantly chipped away at the shred of self-confidence you had.  

Secondo stepped closer to you, an arm wrapping around your waist and pulling you closer as he wiped your tears again. “There is nothing wrong about your body, mia musa. You are un'opera d'arte (a work of art), no?”  

He was doing his best to comfort you, to tell you how exquisite you were but he could tell in the way you looked away from him with a small shake of your head that you didn’t believe it. All those years of being told your body wasn’t attractive had worn you down, and now you were hearing it all over again in the one place you should be able to feel truly comfortable. Secondo wouldn’t stand for it.  

The arm around your waist dropped to untie his apron, lifting it from over his head and throwing it down onto the stool he’d been working from. Then he threaded his fingers through yours, with a tight and reassuring grasp. “Come with me,” he told you, giving your hand a light tug as he stepped back. You followed him, allowing him to walk you out of the studio and through the gardens towards the Abbey. Panic washed over you, thinking he was taking you to confront the siblings in question. 

“Secondo, I don’t want to talk to them-” 

“That’s not where we’re going,” he assured you, “but they will be dealt with.” His protectiveness of you made your chest ache. How did this man adore you this much? You may never know.  

The grounds were relatively deserted. The sun was dipping below the mountainous horizon, casting a deeper orange glow over the Ministry and signalling the end of another day. The majority of Siblings were busy with their own lives, spending their downtime in the mess hall or in their dorms. A few stragglers were walking through the halls, including a couple of the siblings who’d whispered such cruel things to you.  

Secondo felt your hand squeeze his momentarily, and when he looked, he saw the look of embarrassment on your face as you walked towards them. He put two and two together very quickly when the siblings in question watched on, staring at you with amused little smiles. As Secondo marched you down the hall, his glare stuck on them and the moment they looked at his face, their smiles fell to looks of fear. Even as he walked you past where they stood, he stared with a look of thunder that chilled each of them to the bone - and rightly so.  

But he kept walking, until he stopped outside the large doors to the chapel. He dropped your hand only to open the heavy door and push it open.  

Inside the chapel, a handful of siblings were busy replacing candles and reordering the pew cushions as were their duties after any kind of service. At the sound of the heavy door creaking at the top of the aisle, all of their heads whipped around and stared in confusion between you and Secondo. He ushered you inside and held the door open as he turned to the siblings. 

“Out,” he ordered, his face stern and in no way amused by the puzzled looked the siblings shared between them. No one moved, looking around at the jobs that were yet to be done around the chapel.  

“B-but, Papa... we still have to-” one of them stuttered, Secondo’s mere presence and demeanour enough to have the poor soul on edge.  

“OUT!” he yelled, startling even you who jumped beside him. The siblings didn’t argue, knowing better than to stick around and hurried out of the door past the two of you. Once the last sibling had scurried out, Secondo closed the door with a heavy slam, pulling the wooden plank down that bolted it shut from inside. 

He walked around the pews towards the edge of the Chapel, stopping in front of one of the murals that had been painted centuries ago. He gazed up at it, before looking back at you and holding out his hand for you to join him. You did so with caution; not because you were scared of him, more so plagued by your own insecurity than anything. But when you approached his side and placed your hand in his, he held it so gently, guiding you closer to his side. Now stood shoulder to shoulder, you followed his gaze to the beautiful artwork on the wall that Secondo himself had worked to restore and keep in perfect condition since he was a young man.  

“What do you see, when you look at this?” he asked with tenderness, leaning down but never taking his eyes off the painting, “what do you notice?” 

You studied the images in front of you; a large scene of the Garden of Eden that differed from the traditional depictions. In this scene, it was Adam who was eating the apple, the Devil’s serpent coiled around a branch above Eve’s head. It showed the truth of that long-standing story, falsely peddled and passed down through centuries. Adam had been the one to sin, and lied to protect himself. The apple had become stuck in Adam’s throat as he lied to his God, hence the anatomical term ‘Adam’s apple’ that only men are born with. Eve sat on the roots of the large tree, weeping at Adam’s betrayal. She had played no part in this sin, and yet, she was to be blamed for it; but even that was not the first injustice of a patriarchy.  

“It’s... Adam’s betrayal. I see a woman scorned and forced to carry a burden of centuries of judgement,” you told him, feeling almost like a student being quizzed by her professor. You wanted to get the right answer, even if art was subjective.  

“Eve looks beautiful, no?” he asked, waving his hand in her general direction. 

“Of course,” you told him, her ethereal presence highlighted with gentle pastel colours, her body on display as she wept on the large tree roots in a way that could only be described as elegant. Eve was one of the first of many scapegoats throughout the teachings of the Bible, and yet, not the first woman to have been cast from the Garden of Eden. Another painting on the opposite side of the Chapel depicted that first woman; Lilith.  

Secondo turned around, again guiding you by the hand to the other side of the large Chapel where her painting resided. Her scene showed her expulsion from the Garden of Eden long before Eve was created from Adam’s rib. Lilith was Adam’s equal, his first wife, born of the same soil as him. And yet, because she didn’t obey Adam, she was cast out.  

Again, this was how the Bible would describe Lilith; rogue, disobedient and evil. But this was merely a patriarchal fantasy, her story twisted and moulded into a lie through generations. Truthfully, Adam believed Lilith should lie beneath him during the marital act – sex – but Lilith had disagreed, stating they were of the same soil, the same earth and were equal. She should not have to lie beneath him at all. That is what got her cast out of the Garden.  

In her scene, she looks freed. There is no weeping, no remorse. She looks strong and independent, marching her way towards the fallen Angel known as Lucifer to begin her work with him; as his equal. Her painting is a triumph, and she looks as beautiful as you had always seen her.  

“And what do you notice here?” Secondo asked, his tone still so calm and tranquil, how he always spoke of his beloved art.  

“I... I see Lilith, marching towards her truth and forging her own identity.” 

“And she looks beautiful too, does she not?”  

“Well yes, of course,” you agreed without hesitation, but you were confused as to his point.  

“These women – these two symbols of our very existence – do you notice what they have in common, amore mio?” 

“Adam’s betrayal,” you scoffed. Secondo smirked. 

“Well, sí, sí, but... I mean to look beyond the meaning of the scene itself, and look solely at them, their form.”  

You looked behind you back at the painting on the other wall, scanning Eve before turning back to Lilith to find the similarities. But you were at a loss. Different hair colours, slightly different skin tones, different coloured eyes. 

“I don’t follow?” you admitted, feeling a little silly for not understanding.  

“You say they are beautiful, sí? And of course, hai ragione (you are right). But,” he stopped, stepping closer to the painting and reaching his fingertips out to trace the nude body of Lilith, having you look closer. He lowered his voice to almost a whisper, and said, “their bodies, amore... Do you not see?”   

His fingertips continued to trace the artwork, every beautiful curve of Lilith’s figure, unashamedly thicker like her flesh would ripple if the painting came to life. Secondo looked back to you, a softness in his eyes as he watched it dawn on you. You’d never noticed before, never questioned it but now that you were looking around at all of the artwork in the chapel, you noticed more and more that the prominent women, the ones whose beauty and power are marvelled within your religion, looked like you... 

Your eyes glossed over with emotion; how had you missed that? The very essence of beauty, and their bodies were nourished, full and spectacularly curvy. They were voluptuous and had always been revered throughout time as soft, feminine figures of power.  

“These paintings, amore, were all commissioned by a painter known as Peter Paul Rubens. Do you know of him?” he asked, turning his back to the painting to stand in front of you, still holding your hand. You shook your head, pressing your lips together in the fight to keep your cheeks dry. “He is very famous for how he painted women. He enjoyed the larger women; more of them meant more beauty to paint. And people worshipped the women in his paintings, fawned over them. He became so famous for his portrayal of beauty, that there is a term for a thicker, healthy, beautiful woman such as you, mio dolce...” 

He took a step closer to you, his free hand brushing strands of hair you’d let fall to conceal your face away behind your ear, so he could see you in all your beauty. The softness in his eyes he reserved only for you forced a stutter in your pulse, seeing the adoration he never tried to mask since the moment he’d met you when you joined the Ministry months ago.  

And then he leaned forward, his hand slipping to the back of your neck to keep you gently in place while he brought his lips to your ear, and whispered, “Rubenesque...” 

Your hand squeezed his in a visceral response, something you couldn’t control. Secondo lingered there, completely consuming your personal space as he was always so welcome to do.  

“Dolcezza, you have been mia musa since the moment I laid eyes on you. If I could not have you, then I knew I at least needed to paint you – over and over again, if you would allow me.” As he spoke, the hand holding the back of your neck began to trail down your spine, making a beeline for your waist where he gripped a handful of your body and gently squeezed. “You instantly reminded me of all of my most treasured art pieces, an amalgamation of the strength, power and elegance of all the women in paintings I had studied for decades.” 

He dropped his chin to press light kisses to just below your ear, still whispering his adoration of you as they travelled over what little skin was exposed. 

“When you walked into this Ministry, I was so sure you had walked right out of a Rubens painting, that you could not possibly be real.” More kisses, his lips tickling your skin with every word in between. “That you had somehow been sent here for me alone. And then...” more kisses, his chest now pressing against you while your hand in his at your side tightened in arousal, “you indulged me... You sat for your first painting, so shy and timid with the most intoxicating pink blush to your cheeks. I tried to remain professionale, to focus on the art but... my mind wandered so freely.” Just like his hand was now. From your waist, it wound its way around your hip and down your thigh, pushing back to trail up the back of your thigh to the swell of your buttocks.  

You cast your mind back to that first sitting, before Secondo had truly shown any interest in you. You assumed you were simply sitting for a painting, that he asked various people to do so throughout the Ministry. And whilst he had on the odd occasion, it was never for a piece as intimate as that...  

He’d been so gentlemanly in his invitation, setting up part of his studio with a chaise longue and allowing you the time you needed to feel comfortable. He’d left you to undress and replace your clothes with a robe, shown you how he had pictured your pose and then allowed you your privacy again to disrobe and drape the chiffon fabric across you in a way that made you as comfortable as possible. There was no requirement to be completely on display – his only request had been that you were comfortable showing as much of your body as you chose.  

“If I had thought before then that I wanted you, the way that I craved you after that moment, mia musa...” Secondo’s voice remained low and deep as he stepped around you, keeping his lips hovering by your ear as he took up his position behind you. He dropped your hand in his in favour of holding you steady by your waist, softly gripping at the flesh there. Naturally, you sank into him, pressing your back to his strong chest and extending your neck to allow his lips to ghost over the skin.  

“It was truly a test of my self discipline to have you sit for me. But I had just been gifted the most beautiful art to work with and I was petrified to lose it if I had made my move then. And then...” His arms wrapped further around your body, strong, paint covered hands sliding around you like boa constrictors. One arm crossed over to grip the opposite hip, while the other, crossed your chest to knead gently at your breast. “You made me fall disperatamente innamorato di te (desperately in love with you.” 

Your head was swimming with Secondo. All of this, you had known to some degree but to hear him truly spill confessions while his hands were all over you felt like the most erotic experience you’d ever encountered. His breath felt hot against your exposed throat, radiating through your entire body and setting it alight. All you could do was cover his hands with your own and get lost in his touch.  

“I remember the first time I touched you, amore... The smallest, most innocent of touches... During your third sitting, I had to angle your chin to match the work in progress and you were so soft...” If you didn’t know any better, you would think Secondo too was lost in his imagination. And that he was, his eyes shut as he touched you, recounting those early memories with you. “Your eyes were so wide, glistening orbs of innocence and nervousness. I could stand it no more... I had to have you. I had never needed anything so much in my life, dolcezza... To taste your lips, to feel how soft you were beneath the fabric.” 

You remembered the way he’d looked at you in that moment, like he was fighting for his damn life inside his head to keep away from you. He’d stared at your lips for too long, and when he’d met your eyes again and saw no hint of you backing away, he had lost his control. That was the first time Secondo had you.  

The hand kneading at your breast travelled further up your chest to your neck, his thumb reaching to tilt your chin up towards him so he could look you in the eye. Your hand wrapped around his wrist, desperate to keep him close.  

“Satan himself blessed me with a woman such as you, mia musa...” he breathed with hooded eyes as if he were drunk on you, and without giving you any time at all to argue or respond in any way, his lips came crashing down on yours with a lust that neither of you had ever felt for another soul in all your years.  

He held you upright when he felt you melt too far into him, succumbing to his kiss with ease. You couldn’t help yourself, consumed by his very being and already so tightly wound up from his teasing touches and admission of the extent of his obsession with you. This man was as desperate for you as you were for him and it didn’t matter if you understood the reasons why or not; you simply accepted then and there that he was, that to him, you were the most beautiful creature to have graced his world.  

Lips and tongues clashed together without rhyme nor reason, moans lost to each other’s mouths as you lost yourselves also. His hands roamed your body as he held you against him, his grabs a little harsher, needier now. You could feel his hard chest and soft stomach pressing tightly against your back, a bulge that had long since begun stirring nestling between the cheeks of your backside. You could feel that heat inside you building to unbearable temperatures, the need to have him doubling with each second that passed.  

Using all the strength you could muster, you ripped his hands away from you just enough to spin in his arms, gripping him by his shirt and pulling him into you for another heated kiss. In an instant, his hands were back on you, fisting handfuls of your body as he pulled you tightly into him, his chest rumbling low in satisfaction.  

“Secondo...” you moaned, his name coming out as a whisper against his lips.  

“Sí, mia musa?” He nuzzled his nose against yours, leaving brief but frequent kisses to your lips as he waited for you to speak and tell him what you needed from him.  

“Take me to bed...” you begged, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him again, “Please?”  

Secondo chuckled devilishly when you asked so sweetly to dive headfirst into sin. Knowing what you were truly like when he would have his way with you, he always found it so amusing that you were so polite and demure otherwise. He revelled in the idea that it was only him who saw your untamed side.  

“To bed, dolcezza?” he questioned, teasing his fingertips along the edge of your jaw until he was low enough to tilt your chin up to him. “But we worship right here, in the Chapel, no?” 

The smirk that spread across his face sent a shiver of delight down your spine. Was he suggesting...? 

Before you had any time to question him, he began walking backwards, gripping your hands in his to pull you along. He pulled you through the pews to the centre aisle, then began to back up towards the Sanctuary steps that lead to the Altar at the head of the Chapel. As he did, he jolted you closer, attaching his lips to yours and carefully manoeuvring you both while he stayed attached to you, keeping the burning embers of arousal stoked.  

When he reached the steps he spun you around, pushing you to step up them until he sat you down on the middle step. Then he dropped to his knees on the stone as if he were about to pray at your feet. He crawled his way up the steps between your knees, forcing you to lay back as he hovered above you, his hands all over your thighs like he couldn’t bare not to touch you. 

“One day, mia musa, I will paint you naked as the Dark Lord intended, laying on these steps...” he promised, his lips tickling yours as they barely grazed them, teasing you. “And I intend to draw from memory...” 

With that, he pushed the hem of your habit up and over your thighs, fingertips pressing into the supple flesh as he enjoyed every inch of you. He popped the buttons that hid your chest from him, pushing the fabric from your shoulders and arms until he could drag it all from your body, helping you to shimmy from the skirt and kick it from your legs. He was wasting no time at all, attaching his lips to your collarbone and suckling marks into the skin while he worked quickly to take your underwear from you too until you were just as he’d wanted you; naked as the Dark Lord intended. 

Just as his hands had roamed your skin, his lips now followed suit. Every inch of your glorious chest was being suckled at, nipped at, like a starved man. He was careful to pay close attention to your nipples, hardened not simply from arousal alone, but the slight chill in the air within the stone walls of the ancient Chapel. But with Secondo crowding you, riling your body up so, you barely noticed, heat instead continuing to burn from within.  

Secondo growled into your flesh at the sound of your moans, truly worshipping you like a deity. “Tu sei fottutamente delizioso (You are fucking delicious),” he roared, ripping his lips from your body only to attach them to yours again with hunger. As he lapped his tongue into your mouth, his hand disappeared between your thighs, heading straight for your core with no hesitation. He needed more of those moans and fast, wanting to hear you sing for him. He’d take your song over the choir’s in this Chapel any day.  

Just as he’d wished, you cried out into his mouth, unable to hold back as pleasure shot through your core the second his fingertips dragged over your clit. You fell back against the steps, your arms spread out either side of you onto the red carpet runner. Secondo chased you, never letting you get far away enough from him to not feel his hot mouth on you somewhere.  

“Tell me, amore mio, may I indulge in the communion wine?” he asked. You had no idea what he was talking about, too lost to the pleasure his fingers were giving you to put two and two together, but you nodded anyway; you’d let him do just about anything to you, the state he’d got you in so far. “Grazie mille,” he thanked, as if you would ever truly deny him.  

He pushed himself upright, only to crawl back down to the bottom step. His fingers lost contact with your core but just as quick as they had disappeared, his tongue replaced them. You couldn’t help but sing for him yet again.  

He kept his eyes on you the whole time, watching as you lost yourself against the steps. At this angle, he could barely see your head thrown back over the delectable sight of your wonderful body, and it only drove him further into ferality. You would never appreciate this sight as he could, watching your body as it moved in ripples with every sensitive jolt and contraction of muscles. He could see your responses to his tongue all over, like echoes emanating from your centre.  

When he inserted two of his fingers inside you to compliment the work his mouth was doing to your clit, your head jerked up, eyes meeting his. Seeing the hunger in his eyes peeking above the curve of your stomach had you clenching around his fingers, a fresh wave of arousal dripping from you. Immediately, you felt Secondo lap it up, humming at the taste while his eyes fluttered shut.  

“S-Secondo... I...” You wanted to tell him how incredible you felt, how close you were to your undoing already but the words never came, stuck in your throat thanks to his fingers curling inside you to hit the spot he’d memorised that first time he’d slept with you.  

His free arm wrapped its way around your thigh, pulling it over his shoulder to surround himself with you. He loved that feeling, being encased in your gorgeous body as he pleasured you; he’d easily lose himself there. As your moans grew louder, reverberating off the stone walls, Secondo seemed to muster more energy to barrel you towards your undoing. What was fuelling him, you weren’t sure, but you were more than grateful for it. Perhaps it was the anger from before at the comments of your peers. Maybe it was the thought of defiling you on the Sanctuary steps. Maybe he had riled himself up so damn much talking about how much he adored you, how attracted to you he was that he couldn’t help himself.  

The only thing you knew for sure, was that he was making good on his word; he was worshipping you.  

It took mere minutes for him to have you dangling on the edge of sanity, your moans so high pitched he knew you were about to snap. He watched you again, his eyes staring up at you. It wasn’t until you looked down at him again and made such exquisite eye contact that you snapped, too turned on to hold off anymore.  

Your body convulsed as your orgasm hit you, back arching from the steps beneath you, body shaking. You gasped, lungs filling with too much air and stopping any sound from leaving your body. Your eyes rolled back into your head, completely overcome as Secondo didn’t let up. He knew better than to slow down now, letting you ride your orgasm out. He ground your hips into his face, using that delicious nose of his to his advantage until he was completely buried in you, smudging your inner thighs with his face paints.  

As you came back down, your body twitching under him, he made sure to clean you up, lapping up every drop of your essence he could despite your whimpers of oversensitivity. You reached a point where your clit was just too sensitive, throbbing under his tongue, and you had to push him away from you. But you hated the idea of rejecting him in any way, and so you dragged him back up to you by his collar to smash your lips to his breathlessly. You didn’t miss the flavour on his tongue, knowing that was your essence only driving you to absolute distraction...  

“You’re... wearing... too many... clothes...” you told him between kisses and deep breaths. He only grinned into your kisses.  

“Mi dispiace, amore,” he apologised with a smirk, immediately rectifying the issue as he untucked his shirt from his slack, unbuttoning the buttons and throwing it to the side with your habit and underwear. You couldn’t help but lay back on your elbows on the steps, watching as he undressed, enjoying the view. Such strong arms, a solid chest, and a soft stomach, all deliciously covered in a layer of black and grey hair; arousal began to stir again within you... 

“I am supposed to be worshipping you, amore mio...” he smirked, a cockiness glinting in his eyes.  

“I'm not stopping you,” you teased, spreading your legs a little wider and arching an eyebrow at him in invitation. As he threw his slacks and underwear to the side, you caught him licking his lips as his eyes dragged over you, waiting for him on the steps...  

Unholy shit, you were sublime, with your flushed cheeks and forehead glistening with sweat... With your beautiful curves and soft skin... He would never tire of you. Never.  

He couldn’t help himself then, crawling over you and dipping his head down to initiate yet another moment of passion with a sordid kiss. It seems he was unable to keep his hands to himself, wanting nothing more than to feel you, but more importantly, to make sure you knew he wanted you. After today, all he wanted was to make you feel wanted, appreciated, fucking deified. He was certainly doing his part.  

The longer he made out with you, the more you needed him... You could feel his length pressing against you and it was driving you mad being so close, yet so far from what you wanted. To encourage him, you reached your hand between the two of you, wrapping your fingers around his tip and paying particular attention to the frenum piercing of his you loved so damn much, sitting on the underside of his cock.  

At your touch, his lips parted, a low hum vibrating in his throat. It was as if you were taunting a beast within him, the animal poised and ready to pounce. And pounce he would, grabbing both of your wrists and pinning them to the steps above your head.  

“You want my cock, dolcezza?” he teased, his lips so close but just out of reach no matter how far forward you tried to lean. “So keen to be fucked on the Sanctuary steps, eh?”  

He wouldn’t let you answer, instead shuffling so he was lined up perfectly between your legs, rolling his hips against you to coat his shaft with your essence. You could feel the ridges of his veins and that fucking piercing at they caught on your clit, still sensitive but the stimulation bearable now.  

“Worship me, Papa...” you whispered the order, catching him off guard. His eyes widened for just a moment, and there was no way he could deny you...  

Trapping your wrists in one of his hands, he used his free hand to guide himself to your entrance, sinking into you in one fluid motion. Secondo breathed out a long breath through his nose, humming again as your heat consumed him. You felt everything, every ridge yet again, filling you deliciously in the way his fingers never could. They were no match for his thickness and length, reaching places you’d been unaware of before him.  

When every inch had sunk deep inside you, his hips pressed flush against your own, he dove into you for a deep, hungry kiss. Like he couldn’t stop himself, his hips dragged back and slammed into you, the slapping sound echoing through the Chapel. And after that, he wouldn’t relent, repeating the same motion over and over again, slamming his hips into you as he grunted his pleasure into your mouth.  

Eventually he let your wrists go in favour of grabbing at your body again, kneading it like pizza dough with love and adoration. You held his head in place, whimpering into his kisses every time his cock slid inside you. He lifted your thigh to his hip, deriving a better angle to rock up and hit where you needed him.  

“Sei la mia opera d'arte preferita, una cazzo di dea che prende vita, (You are my favourite artwork, a fucking Goddess come to life,)” he spewed his words quickly, his brain unable to translate to English quick enough to spill his thoughts. You understood him just fine, his confession having you clench on his length. He roared in pleasure at the feeling, barrelling toward a climax.  

“S-Secondo please...” you begged, “’m gonna cum again.” 

“You’d better, dolcezza. I will not leave mia musa unsatisfied on the steps, eh?” he promised, the hand that was kneading at your breast dipping down to press flat against your stomach, fingertips digging into the softness and thumb dragging over your clit again.  

It didn’t take much now that he’d added more stimulation, and you were coming undone in no time at all... Your walls clenched around him so incredibly tight, body curling up into him until his face was pressed into the crook of your neck, his chest cushioned by your voluptuous body. You spluttered out a litany of curses and his name like a chant at Black Mass, filling the Chapel’s empty hall.  

Everything became too much for him too, biting down on your neck and growling into it while his rhythm faltered, and his cock shot load after load of his spend deep inside you. His grip on your body tightened, pulling him closer to you as the two of you shook and convulsed from your respective orgasms, overcome with pleasure.  

“Y-You are a dream, mia musa...” Secondo panted above you, removing the hair stuck to your forehead with sweat and tucking it behind your ear. “Don’t ever forget that, eh?” You could only nod, your mind still very much hazy in post-climax bliss.  

“I couldn’t give any less of a fuck what the other fottuti idioti (fucking idiots) think of our relationship, you understand? You must never forget, you are the beauty standard to the greatest artists in history,” he assured you, peppering gentle kisses to your neck, your cheeks, your lips – anywhere he could.  

“Including you,” you complimented with a smirk, catching his gaze with heavy eyes, drowsiness overcoming you. Secondo chuckled, shaking his head.  

“Including me,” he repeated, “If you say so...”  

“I do,” you told him earnestly, “Nobody has ever made me feel as beautiful as you do when you paint me, my love.” You cradled his head in your hands, fighting the urge to curl in on yourself out of shyness.  

“Ah. Then I simply have to paint you more... What a shame,” he teased with playful sarcasm, a grin spanning across his very smudged face as he leaned in to plant a slow, loving kiss to your lips.  

[cobrakaisb]

what was i made for?

summary: everybody hates you, but luke could never see you that way; luke hates himself, but he’s always going to be the center of your galaxy.

word count: 2.3k

featuring: angst, reader and luke share a vape (sue me🙈), but also friend dynamics, and official godly parent reveal 🙌, reader and luke are basically together (without the labels).  

series masterlist ||| previous ||| next 

“i hate it here,” you announce, taking a seat at the hermes table for breakfast. 

chris, luke, and katrina all exchange glances. you can sense their nerves from a mile away, and their unease only seems to heighten when you slam your plate and goblet on the table. chris opens his mouth, ready to comment on your behavior, but he decides not to when you throw a nasty glare his way. 

“wow, you’re hera’s daughter,” katrina teases, nudging your shin with her own from across the table. 

“no shit, really?” you reply, stabbing a lone strawberry on your plate.

“no seriously, your glare is exactly like hers. i can see her staring at me in disapproval and everything,” katrina continues with a wide smile on her face.

you flash a tight-lipped smile in response, but don’t take the bait that’s dangling in front of you. over the past few months, you’ve established quite the reputation at camp half-blood. aside from being something akin to a forbidden child -- because it was always assumed that hera would never have children -- your nasty temper, smart mouth, and enormous ego have led to a number of fights. all of them were petty, with campers making claims about you that were so far into leftfield you were surprised they even caught on. 

“what happened this time?” luke asks, his shoulder brushing against yours when he leans forward to rest his elbows on the table. 

“that stupid fucking lava wall,” you grumble, taking a bite of your pancakes. 

“okay…” katrina prompts, waving her hand in a continue motion. 

you swallow your food before answering, “i love the lava wall, it’s such a good workout, but i hate that my time slot is the same as the ares kids.” 

“nothing new, but what’d they do now?” katrina asks. 

“annoy me,” you answer.

luke says your name in the same tone he uses when travis and connor get caught pulling some master prank. you can hear the disappointment in his tone, and that elicits an eye roll from you. he doesn’t even know the full story, and he’s already picking a side other than yours, typical. 

“sorry, that we can’t all be the golden child like you,” you sneer, getting up from the table to throw the rest of your food in the burning fire pit.

everybody knows you prayed to your mother when the flames flash a deep purple before flickering back to their normal orange. 

“i’ll talk to her,” katrina says, standing up from her seat. 

luke lifts up his hand, shakes his head no, and replies, “i got it.” 

he follows you out of the dining pavilion and into the woods. you know he’s there because you can hear the cracks of twigs and rustling of bushes as he matches your step. only two people are crazy enough to follow you, but only one of them knows when to walk in silence.

“go back to camp luke,” you demand, pushing a branch out of the way. 

“not until you tell me what the fuck happened at the lava wall,” he answers, dodging the branch before it makes contact with his nose. 

you stop short, looking at long island sound through a small gap in the trees. luke knows the spot; you two come here frequently. he waits for a moment, admiring your straight back. even when you’re feeling your worst, you still muster up the courage to walk with the confidence of a princess. 

“the same old shit. you know the story,” you mumble, eyes squinting from the glare of the sun. 

luke sighs. he doesn’t understand why you put up this mask with him. why do you feel the need to continue being the strong, confident, arrogant, and put-together, daughter of hera when it’s just the two of you? he steps closer to you, standing directly behind you so his arms can wrap around your waist. you lean back into his chest, shoulders sagging in defeat. 

“i never used to care what people thought of me, now it’s all i can think about. this was supposed to be different, luke,” you whisper. 

luke doesn’t say anything in return. he drops his forehead against the back of your head, and squeezes your hips just a bit tighter. camp was supposed to be different. you were meant to feel wanted and seen; he was meant to become a hero with ultimate glory. from the looks of it, neither of you are anywhere close to getting what you deserve. 

—

some days were harder than others, luke knew this. yet, it didn’t make it any easier when one of those hard days came around. each and every time he feels utterly dead to the world, wanting nothing more than to rot away in the comfort of his bottom bunk in the hermes cabin. being head counselor doesn’t afford that luxury. so, he takes a deep breath, musters up every ounce of courage his body could possibly possess, and walks out the door. 

usually, the training arena is quiet in the mornings. nobody, not even the most dedicated warriors, is willing to get up earlier than they need to. sleep is a hot commodity at camp half-blood. and so is privacy. so, luke relishes in the quiet mornings where he’s surrounded by the soft tweets of birds, the slash of his sword, and his heavy breathing. he trains and trains, searching for a way to be good enough again. he used to pray, but after years of going unheard and unanswered, he gave up on connecting with his father.

he thinks of his mother, alone in their house in suburban connecticut. she never doubted hermes, even when he left them for worse; her faith kept her loyal. luke wishes that he had her loyalty, but he doesn’t. instead, all he feels is anger and resentment towards his father. he swings his sword again, cutting through the outer layer of the dummy, and watches as the stuffing falls gracefully to the ground.  

“that’s a lot of slashes,” you comment, and your voice draws him out of his own head.

he ignores you, continuing on with his practice session. 

“you know you can take a break, right?” you ask, coming to stand behind him. 

luke’s arm falls to his side, his sword resting against his thigh. his head falls forehead, and he takes in a deep breath, letting the clean air fill his lungs. your hand sneaks between the strap of his bronze breastplate and his bright orange t-shirt. he takes another breath, and your chin digs into his shoulder before you drop a kiss on the exposed skin by the collar of his shirt. 

you don’t say anything, and luke appreciates that about you. ever since your arrival at camp, he’s tried to pinpoint what exactly draws him to you. every time he comes up empty handed, but at this moment he knows it’s your willingness to just let him be. you never force him to be happy or content with the gods’ and their behavior. you embrace the darkness slowly rising inside of him, even when he tries to suppress it. 

“i just want to be good enough,” luke whispers, finally allowing himself to be vulnerable. 

your arms tighten around him, and you reply, “you are good enough.” 

“not for him,” he mumbles. 

“he’s not good enough for you,” you say assertively. 

luke doesn’t comment on your words. the conviction in your voice is enough to inform him that there’s no changing your mind. he wishes he believed you, but he doesn’t. 

“you’re not the one who failed their quest,” luke mumbles. 

you openly scoff at his words, letting go of him. he waits patiently for your next move and stumbles when you pull him towards your face by the strap of his armor. your eyes met, and luke swear he’s never seen such fury brewing in them.

“don’t ever use that as a determinant of your worth. that quest was impossible luke, and he knew that,” you seethe. 

luke blinks, letting your words sink in. he can’t believe them; he doesn’t believe them. 

“it was my chance, my one chance to show him that i’m worthy,” luke whispers, leaning his forehead against yours. 

you let out a shaky breath and luke can feel the anger and frustration radiating off you in waves. he knows that if he wasn’t holding you in his arms, olympus would fall. he blinks, and you’re standing there, in the middle of crumbled temples and the debris of ancient ruins with the fiercest look in your eyes. you’re hera’s daughter, and you’re loyal to a fault, he thinks.

“i just don’t know how much longer i can do this,” he confesses, kissing your earlobe. 

“me too,” you answer, squeezing him tighter. 

—

the two of you are sitting on the dock, feet dangling over the edge as your toes barely graze the surface of the water. you always meet here after all the campers in the hermes cabin settled into bed. when he was able to sneak out and away from their curious eyes.

“i hate it here,” you whisper, leaning further back into luke’s chest.

“you don’t hate it here,” he mumbles, fumbling around in the pocket of his cargo pants. 

“i do,” you answer with certainty. “everybody here hates me. except maybe you and katrina,” you continue. 

luke doesn’t accept or deny your statement. instead, he just hands you the orange stick. you scoff at him, but take the vape from his hands anyways. one thing about luke, he feeds your addictions; every single one of them. instead of thanking him, like you normally would, you bring the vape to your mouth, inhaling deeply. you wait a second, letting the toxins fill your lungs, and then release the smoke in one puff. there’s nothing sexy or hot about the action, but luke squeezes your side, pulling you a bit closer. 

“i can’t believe my plug is my boyfriend,” you joke, but there’s no happiness in your tone. 

luke pokes your side. you switch the vape to your left hand, holding it out to him. you wait patiently for him to take it, but he doesn’t. that confuses you. you turn to face him, forehead bumping against his chin. it hurts, but you just grit your teeth instead of saying anything. luke grimaces, leaning down to plant a kiss on your forehead. 

“there are other people here who like you,” luke says.

“name them,” you demand, taking another hit. 

luke takes the item from you, uses it, and then answers, “chris.” 

“is your friend not mine,” you reply. 

luke rolls his eyes. “connor and travis,” he continues. 

“enjoy torturing me, not my company. besides, they’re like ten,” you say. 

“okay then, what about clarisse?” luke asks.

now it’s your turn to roll your eyes, “clarisse tolerates me.” 

“that’s more than i can say,” luke answers, and you snort at his response. 

luke smiles softly at you, and you feel your cheeks heat up. you hate when he does that. when he looks at you like you’re the only person he could possibly dream about. there are days where there's such deep admiration for you in his eyes, you wonder if he leaves burnt offerings in your name instead of the gods.

you turn his face in the opposite direction and whisper, “don’t do that.” 

“do what?” he asks nonchalantly.  

“you know what,” you answer, shooting him a pointed look. 

luke grins. it’s proud and cocky, telling you that he knows exactly what he’s doing. his brown eyes crinkle at the corners, and his scar bunches up with the upturn of his lips. you think he looks the prettiest in this moment; in the dark of the night, with messy curls, grimy skin, and a vibrant smile. you turn again, so that your legs are draped across his lap, and wrap your left arm around the back of his neck. luke’s left hand, the one previously resting against your side, lands on your right thigh, and he squeezes the flesh there as he kisses your temple. 

“do you think we moved too fast?” you ask, taking the vape from his right hand. 

luke waits, expecting you to take a hit, but you just look at him with eager eyes.

“i think we’re doing everything right,” he explains. 

his words hold a deeper meaning that you refuse to acknowledge at the moment. you know what’s going on, but you don’t want to think about it. what would mother say?, you wonder. you lean your head against luke’s shoulder, nose brushing against the crook of his neck, and close your eyes.

“do you think icarus knew he was falling to his death?” luke asks, breaking the silence.

it takes you a moment, but you respond, “maybe. i’m not sure.”

“i mean he was flying the whole time, and then suddenly, he’s plummeting into the mediterranean,” luke continues, taking the vape from your hand.  

“maybe he wanted to die,” you reply, tilting your head to meet his brown eyes. 

a confused expression overcomes luke’s face, propelling you to continue on: “he must have known that the sun would melt the wax, and then his wings would break. i think icarus meant to die, trying to send a message to daedalus or even maybe the gods.”

luke ponders your words for a minute. the gears in his head turning as he contemplates the truth behind your theory. is that what we’re doing?, he wonders. the brewing plans between the two of you linger over his head like a dark cloud, but he can’t bring himself to regret anything.

“so icarus had a greater purpose…like us,” luke observes, wrapping his arm around your shoulders.

“exactly,” you answer, leaning into his side. 

luke hands the vape back to you, and you pocket it for good this time. he exhales deeply, engulfing you in a cloud of mango-scented smoke. it burns your lungs, but at least you feel something, which is more than you can say as of lately. 

“i just want to be happy,” luke announces. 

“happy and free,” you decide, kissing his cheek delicately.

taglist: @percabethlvr @iwantahockeyhimbo @hottiewifeyyyy @loveryoushouldcomeoverr @used2beee @harrysnovia @cami-is-reading @mxtokko @cxcillia @obxstiles @maraschinocherry3

[angel-maybe-alive]

More things I hate about modern literature because today is a bad day and I need to be a dick online to feel better:

How much sex there is in everything

And again I am not a prude, erotica has existed for decades and it's okay but every popular YA or adventure book nowadays is a bad erotica with some low stakes adventure in the background

And somehow they are able to be both bad porn and bad adventure

And also people will promote those books as " yes the plot kinda sucks but there's good sex scenes"

The word Mary sue

The misuse of the word Mary sue

Any attempt to make a "LOTR inspired" book made by a man

Because usually the things that made LOTR good go just over the authors head and we end with basically a vin diesel movie set in the middle ages

This is not just about modern literature but books about or set in horrible moments for a oppressed minority(like holocaust or slavery) written by people who aren't part of said minority

Coleen hoover

She did for feminist literature what Seth MacFarlane did for adult animation

The harry Potter/Percy Jacksonification of children's literature

The magical choose one trope being taken to a magical world did irremediable damage to children's literature

The mean girl trope

Books set in fictional middle ages but the protagonist go to balls in fashion show modern runaway style dresses

You know the tacky Pinterest glittery showing shoulders back and leg

Those official arts of the same exactly white women and the same white guy in slightly different clothes with the same 2016 style eyebrows and the sharp jawline and the nothing expression

Characters being described as "golden skin" so depending if the author needs some representation points they can be interpreted as people of color but if no one says nothing they stay as just tan white

Comparing dark skin color to any food

How many authors try to make at the same time "this is brainless wish fulfilment fantasy about being desired by a hot dominating guy" and " this is a profound take about the horrors of abuse"

Usually by having the second love interest to abuse the protag

In the end the message that stays is any abuse is forgivable if the abuser is hot enough

The "I'm skinny but not hot super model skinny I am ugly skinny my bones show because of malnourishment"

"yet I don't feel any other effect of starvation like being weak and I can carry five times my body weight in whatever animal the author needs me to hunt in the beginning of the book because making me a farmer wouldn't be cool"

"I am ugly" cried the skinny girl with locks of auburn hair porcelain white skin and eyes of emerald green.

The jk Rowling stupid name school (she named the werewolf Wolfy mcwolf in Latin and people though it was smart now we have a girl who fights on a island named island and the archer who marries a fae named fae archer )

And again faes because fuck faes

[ak319]

Yan G!P Princess x fem reader

(Warnings: Possessive, stalker, betrayal, )

Your name in the story is Deniz

Part I

(Your POV)

"But Clara what we can do is ---with the help of the Mayor perhaps negotiate with them. I think they would agree, I mean that family loves doing charity don't they?"

"Yup, they do, Leo. But not behind the scenes. When the camera is off, they are just another ordinary, rich, money-hungry family." My boss Clara sighed for the umpteenth time and took her glasses off. I sat quietly on the sofa listening to their banter for the past ten minutes.

Our organisation, Redwood High Social Work was now facing what seemed like a dead end regarding the 1 acre of land that was designated to be made into a proper field for sports, not only for Redwood but for Knights High which was affiliated to Redwood and was a school for Special Ed. They really deserve that ground. Every kid deserves a good sport and imagine the numerous events we can have in the field. But somehow everything isn't so easy. We received an email last night which was apparently from the palace! Like THE PALACE! We thought that it was a prank but in the morning the Mayor's secretary sent us one clarifying that yes, it was from the palace. And what it stated was that and I quote

''....the field itself isn't the issue but the forest behind it is the property of the Royal family. God forbid none of us would want anyone harmed if there happens to be any hunting activity taking place. Keeping this in mind, it is therefore requested that your honourable organization reconsider its plans and if any compensation is desired, contact the number XXXX...."

"Just read this posh ass shit. I cannot believe the Mayor ditched us like that." Clara snarled flailing her arms once more making Leo rub his temples. I noticed a few gray hairs on the back of his head. Poor guy really be getting old early due to Clara.

"He didn't ditch us Clara. He did what any person would do, listen to the higher-ups. DUH?!"

"Higher ups?! Seriously Leo? Where were these higher-ups when we officially signed ownership documents and paid for the fucking land levelling equipment?! Do you think they gonna refund me? NO! Even if they do it will be half of the amount. Those were the school's funds LEO! The principal will get chewed on by the parents and in both schools! God....I don't---I can't just wrap my fucking mind around this whole scenario. That forest is literally at the edge of the field. The fences have been already built around 2 years ago. There are no reports of any animal attacks. And it's not like we are not going to monitor our children. Do we look stupid to them?! And I swear Leo and Deniz...they don't own that forest. I checked it a million times. Nobody goes there but oh now they do? Kiss my ass! "

I took a deep breath and put down my laptop down on the table before walking over to her desk.

"Maybe, Leo is right. We can only sort this out via a meeting."

"Meeting with who Deniz? I see only one solution. That is to sue them. Imma sue them, Imma sue the mayor too. Like where is he now? Huh? Did he just use us as some campaign pawns? Did you see his fucking website? WE ARE THERE! BUT NOW LOOK WE DON'T HAVE THE FUCKING GROUND. Imma sue his ass." She ran her hand through her curly black locks in anger. I definitely can understand what she is going through. Frustration. Anger. Sadness. But we all need to think instead of rant.

"I did see it, Clara. But you need to calm down. We need to come up with something solid. And suing the royal family? Can we even do that?" I looked at Leo who shrugged.

"See? We are not making any sense right now. What is done is done. So, I was thinking like---we can use the power of media as well. Why don't I call in Alfie and get your words on the front page tomorrow? He is looking for some hot tips as well these days." Alfie was Clara's cousin and a pretty seasoned journalist too.

"Get my words on what exactly?. We need to-" She breathed in for once before continuing "We need to have a chat with both of these parties first, Deniz. Go and keep reaching the Mayor's office. We will get rid of him first. Leo, go inform Knights about this fuckery but feed them some words of hope as well like 'we are working on it and it will be sorted', gotcha? Also, ask them to keep it to themselves. I don't want any parent drama."

"I already sent e-mails to the Mayor's office. Also what about Ma'am Layla?" I referred to our school's principal.

"I'll explain this to her myself." With that, everybody got to work. Honestly never thought that a degree in Science in Policy could lead to such a problematic job. I thought everything was going to be cookies and rainbows. But meh. People ruin everything. And I mean some assholes and I know exactly who this might be. But I need to be calm and focused right now.

Anyway, why is the Mayor even siding with the Royals --- since when are they interfering in the government?. Just as I was thinking this I got a notification on my phone. YES! An email from Emilia, Mayor Alex's secretary.

It said that Carla is invited to a meeting tomorrow. Mhm. This is good news then. Better go tell her.

════∘◦❁◦∘════

Fast forward to tomorrow, we were heading to the Mayor's abode. Not his office. His home. Which was odd. It was only me, as I was the assistant to the project manager, and Carla herself, the project manager/organization head, and the driver.

"So don't worry about the talking I'll-"

"You will handle it. I know. Just don't use the word sue ten times in a row and we will be good."

"Deniz, come on. Everybody loses their marbles sometimes. Didn't you once break everything in your room just because your food order was cancelled due to rain or something like that?" She whispered to me about my meltdown. My eyes widened in embarrassment, making her laugh.

"I assume you the most humble Carla, never experienced the emotion "hanger". And guess what--I had my movie ready to be played and my pad changed. " I whispered the last part to her as well. "So yeah, my cosy time was ruined. I would wage a war for that."

"Pft. Imagine you being a Queen. You would wage war everyday then."

"Damn right." Although her words brought an uncomfortable feeling and bitter thoughts in my mind making me shiver but I remained composed.

We bantered and went through some points before finally reaching our destination. I said some prayers as I got out of the car wishing that everything goes smoothly and this gets sorted out today. Glancing over at Carla's blank look as she scanned the front door, I could tell she was hoping the same.

Soon the Mayor greeted us in his formal attire and led us to his veranda where someone else was present too. An old man but his poise screamed of experience and wisdom. His eyes seemed to smile when we entered but the rest of his face was stoic. He was introduced to us as Richard, the queen's butler of some sorts. Just great.

The discussion started and it was revealed by "MR. RICHARD" that,

"As a matter of fact that forest is a part of royal treasury but since this---trifle has started, the King has with open heart decided to hand it to your organization, but..."

All of three of us leaned and waited for the next words out of his mouth. God , he spoke so slow.

"only when Princess Kade returns back from Harvard." My heart dropped.

"And why is that?" Carla's blurted out, in favor of mine and Alex's curiosity.

"Because it is accorded in her name. Her property , her signatures." He spoke looking directly at Carla.

Alex sighed, "Well, this is still a good start. When will she be back?"

"In a month or so, sir. But don't worry, the field will be handed to you as soon as she arrives. She doesn't hesitate when it comes to her duties," Richard eyed me and I held his gaze as fiercely as I could.

That was the moment when my doubts were confirmed and hardened. I know exactly who is behind this and why. But for now, I think Carla's smile means a call for celebration.

════∘◦❁◦∘════

(Your POV)

I stepped into my apartment and took a long shower which I had been desiring all day. But at the back of my mind I had a feeling that my feelings of anger and frustration instead of subsiding were about to explode more and that is what happened when I sat down on my sofa with my phone. A call from an unknown number. I picked it up but didn't say anything waiting for the other side to speak.

"Hello? Deniz?"

"Fuck you, Kade! FUCK YOU AND YOUR FAMILY! YOU RICH SNOBBY BASTARD! YOU CREEP! WHY CAN'T YOU LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE! You have dug your claws EVERYWHERE HAVEN'T YOU!? How low can you go? Huh?! PATHETIC!"

"Listen, please. I beg you to listen. If you are so keen to figure out that I did it, why don't you see WHY I did it?! Even these curses that you oh so charmingly bestowed upon me right now, you wouldn't do it Deniz if I hadn't done something, because you don't consider me even worthy of your hate Deniz. And here I am, begging for an ounce of affection-

"I didn't ask you to beg!" Her words don't ever miss a chance to rile me up. Why can't this delusional woman just leave me alone?

"You study at Harvard for God's sake yet you cannot--decipher the meaning of a simple word called NO. Why can't you accept-

"I WON'T ACCEPT IT! EVER!. BECAUSE IT'S BASELESS! Absolutely baseless! I refuse to accept it because I know deep down you don't mean-" She took a deep breath before continuing and I could also hear the sound of wind in the background. Almost as if something was hitting a hard surface and I instantly remembered. 'Yeah of course how did I forget she is using a fucking payphone ever since I blocked all her numbers.' How did I even manage to make her go to these lengths? Should I even blame myself? My therapist said no. Yeah. No Deniz, this isn't your fault. Don't you dare take it upon yourself for the crazy stunts of this bastard princess. Should I blame that whole match? That day, that event, that night?

It happened when I was in high school, part of the girl's cricket team in Southampton. After a match against another school and my striking performance as an outclass bowler, being responsible for taking out 3, star batswomen of the rival team, a girl from the audience approached me. Tall, reeking of elegance and mystery. My team captain, Reece whom I was standing beside at the time with some other teammates seemed to know the Princess as we would come to know later on. They both met through mutual acquaintances at a basketball match and were now very close friends. One thing to mention is that I had a thing for Reece due to her caring, charming and dominating presence on the field. I mean come on, she was quite a looker too with her sharp features and those green calculating eyes, her height, and golden brown hair which she kept mostly in a man bun. I always felt shy for no reason when we all would work out in the school gym and she would always come to scold my posture or cause my already pounding heart to nearly blast out of my chest helping me with her muscled arms and hands. LIKE WOMAN SORRY IF I AIN'T AS BUILT AS YOU! I wanted to scream "Hey! Stop treating me as a baby or if am weaker" But man come on, deep down I loved her care and touch. Can you blame my ass? Anyway, I digress. Back to that "After Match Moment".

Reece introduced her as a longtime childhood buddy and kept her background mostly vague and we were already exhausted after the match so didn't pay any heed anyway but mostly all of the team recognized her as the princess of the fucking land that we were standing on. Even though I was drenched in sweat and overwhelmed by the crowd — mostly parents and teachers and now a fucking princess standing in front, I still noticed Kade's lingering gaze on me. At the time, it was somewhat off-putting, but I decided to let it go. Little did I know how I would be drawn into such a heartless game, not only by Kade but also by Reece. I had trusted Reece as a mentor and a friend, and I even harboured a special affection for her that I never disclosed to anyone or dared to confess to her. Reece was the type of person who had many admirers, and my own insecurities made me feel like I could never compete. She could have anyone she wanted, so I focused on my studies and cricket instead.

After the meeting with Kade, Reece initiated plans for an outing which was very rare for her to do so. It was something Hana did, our wicketkeeper as she was the cheery one, the sunshine and the glue of the team. Others didn't seem to notice Reece's sudden change in demeanour, but I did as whenever we went to Reece's house or somewhere out, she seemed to avoid me in a way that is difficult to describe. Like she would be talking to me but not looking at me?. Also, Kade seemed to always show up and eventually became part of our friend group. Thank God she wouldn't stare at me as she did that night but still lingered around me. I always felt strange when we played cricket in front of her and even with her. She always was eager to ball herself when I used to bat and Reece let her do it first , every time. Kade once fixed my posture when I was batting. Like, excuse me?? I am a professional here. I know how to bat. Are you fucking kidding me?! I wanted to smash the bat on her head. Everyone except Reece thought that it was condescending for her to do that. And the fact that she touched me while doing it.

Bruh.

I too lost my shit at that time and did tell her politely that I know how to bat to which she apologised with a smile and backed off.

Reece straight up once "little sister zoned me" in front of everyone at her cabin during a BBQ and both she and Kade laughed as if it was the funniest shit they ever heard.

What shocked me most was Reece's behaviour few days after that. She really took the role of 'big sister' too seriously. She paid extra attention to me as if babying me and often I would find goodie bags in my locker or doorstep after practices and matches. I was...honestly just fed up. Like what fucking drugs are you on , Captain? First, you ignore me and then--this? Calling me and making me your sister? Giving me gifts? Like it took me so much to bury my feelings about her and she is "platonically love-bombing" me?

One day I had enough and texted her respectfully that I don't want all of this attention and I just wanted to be treated like a teammate as before. And asked her if she---likes me by any chance and she is doing all this to impress me. (Which is the one I hoped at that time of my youth and dumbassery that she would agree with and confess her feelings) Fate had other plans and hell broke loose when she rang me and informed me.

'Look, it's me giving you all that stuff but I ain't the one buying 'em', Dizzy. It's Kade, well she likes you and um--so ever since she told me about her crush on you, she sends me these to give em to you- and Dizzy---I can't say no to my friend ....who is also royalty. You should try to understand. She really really likes you. Trust me. She's a bit--aloof when it comes to expressing it. Especially since it's you." She chuckled lightly. "Honestly, you here made a princess scared of you, be proud of yourself...cuz Kade ain't easy to intimidate.."

That was when my whole world collapsed. So all of this ---bullshit--confusion--and- God...

After that, I confronted Kade face to face as Reece called her to school one day. She remained steadfast and pleaded to give her a chance but I was deep in anger and felt played. Not to forget the fact that dating a fucking royalty was not the thing I was even imagining at that point at 17 years old. Informing your parents you are dating a princess.....nah.

After that, I focused on my studies and game not talking to Reece other than when I had to about the match. I stopped hanging out with her. I hated her. She didn't care anyway as I would later find out from another teammate that Reece looked at me as not her sister but SISTER-IN-FUCKING-LAW! LIKE WOMAN?! During my absence and one of their "Chill Nights", Kade had made it clear to her in front of other teammates that Reece would be her best woman at OUR WEDDING!? Do you get the level of craziness?! THESE TWO WERE MANIACS! Thank God, I graduated somehow and Kade hadn't appeared in my life after the argument with her and neither did her gifts. I also broke off contact with Reece's ass and even rarely talked with other players but they were honestly more supportive and understood my side. However, Kade and Reece's sis-romance was off the charts. Just go marry each other, weirdos.

Fast forward to a few years and voila, Kade is back and more persistent than ever. Even Reece messaged me on instagram that I should get hitched with her as it's better for my future for which I retorted.

'Um, focus on your life, Reece. Heard you've got a league coming up' Yes, she is a national player now. FML. That was my dream too but I am grateful I ain't because she would be playing alongside me. Eugh!

'Also I can make decisions for myself and I don't appreciate people trying to coax me into anything I don't want to do, you know that very well. Match against the Kent Lionesses, 30 sept, 2013? Yes, didn't wanna do a spin, didn't do it and gave u a good 4 wickets. While Tanya was forcing me to do fast bowl. So please, get the fantasy of me being your BFF's wife out of your head.'

She indeed was unhappy but left me on seen after saying you are missing out on a great woman and a great life.

Right. Fuck you too.

Still fast forward to now and Kade is still looking for ways to connect with me and re-enter my life or trying to RUIN the one I have by creating such circumstances which all link back to her. I have blocked so many numbers of her that now she uses payphones.

I need a break.

Back to reality. Oh , she still is rambling.

"Kade?"

The line goes silent. Good, now is my time.

"Bye." And I cut the call and powered off my phone. I immediately sent a text via laptop to Carla that I needed a prolonged leave as I was leaving for my (homeland/town). The perks of having a nice boss is that she agreed and didn't even pry much and soon I booked a flight and got ready to pack.

My mind however kept swirling with other notions. For example, what will happen if I say yes to Kade? What If I just never come back and consult all of this bullshit from the start with my family and come up with a plan to start an undercover life.

My body is so exhausted by the memories and anxiety that i just collapse on the bed and make a mental note to think over this during the flight.

➺Part II

(AUTHOR'S NOTE: Guys, I wanted to make it clear that I just don't like using (Y/N) in stories as I just hate typing it so I will be mostly naming you, the readers ♡. Yes you , my little family of 10 😭. I would like to know your opinion. Do hang around for further parts. Kade Emsworth's side coming up soon. )

[k-germsworld]

Revenge

Sinb x M! Reader

Requested

2k words

A tennis competition is being held in a community, and both men and women can participate. Of course, this competition does not differentiate between divisions based on gender. And there are just enough players to register to compete in the round of 16 matches. 

Jungwoo is a future tennis star. He came to participate in this community competition because his coach wanted him to participate in these small competitions to gain experience before officially participating in big competitions. The audience at the scene all thought that Jungwoo must win this championship. Although it is a community competition, many good players are still participating.

This competition is played in best-of-five-set, the one who gets 3 wins first wins. Although Jungwoo received professional training, he also went through several hard battles before reaching the finals. The scores between him and his opponents are very close, and almost every game needs to be played for 5 games. He reached the finals with great difficulty.  On the contrary, his opponent in the final easily reached the final. Jungwoo looked at the schedule of the finals and found that his opponent was a girl named Sinb, and she defeated her opponent in 3 games in each game.

He was surprised and his coach didn't have any information on her. Jungwoo must win this competition, which will make his coach trust him more and allow him to participate in more large-scale competitions. Therefore, he would always keep himself from losing in this small competition, and to an unknown person. So, there is no turning back for him. He must win this final to meet his coach's expectations. 

Unfortunately, although Jungwoo tried his best to fight against Sinb with all his skills, Sinb seemed to neutralize all his attacks easily. There is no doubt that Jungwoo was easily defeated 3-0 by SInb. 

He didn't expect that he would lose to an unknown person, and be defeated super easily. Although he was disappointed, Jungwoo still had to shake hands with Sinb in a gentlemanly manner. “It’s a nice game, Sinb.” 

 He held out his hand, waiting for her response, but Sinb sneered, ignored his hand, and shook the referee's hand. “What a boring game!” Sinb's ignorance and contempt made Jungwoo very angry. When the award was presented, she only had a fake smile on her face and no genuine smile at all. This made him piss off even more. Jungwoo worked hard for so long, but it was a shame to be easily defeated by an unknown person.

The coach was disappointed with his performance. He kept pointing out many of his mistakes in the lounge, but because Jungwoo had just lost the game, he couldn't listen to the coach at all. He was very angry and walked out of the lounge. He went to the bathroom and washed his face to calm down. He was really angry thinking about the match he just played. It didn't matter if he lost. But when he thought about Sinb's contemptuous expression, he became more and more angry.

When Jungwoo left the toilet, he just blocked Sinb's way. She bumped into him accidentally. “Who the fuck blocking my way?” Sinb looked up and saw that it was Jungwoo. Then she taunted him. “Isn’t this the loser just now?” Get the fuck off, loser.” She was about to get over him and go to the bathroom to shower, but he stopped her. Because of his anger, he didn't notice that Sinb was just wrapping a towel around her body. He put a hand on her shoulder to try to stop her. “Hey, watch your words, don't keep calling me a loser.” “Take your dirty hands away. If you touch me again, I will sue you for sexual harassment.” Sinb’s bitchy face made his anger even more. But when his eyes looked at SInb's body, realized that she was very hot. Looking at her body made him hard in an instant.

She had no idea her body was being watched. Sinb looked at Jungwoo standing in a daze so she walked to the toilet. But suddenly, she was pushed against the wall and all the bathing supplies she held fell to the ground. She turned around to find Jungwoo pushing her against the wall. “What the fuck are you doing, you fucking loser.” “If you dare to call me a loser again, I will let you know the fate of calling me a loser.” 

“Wha….What are you trying to do to me?” Her voice becomes smaller. Jungwoo smirked and pulled off her towel leaving her naked in the hallway. Sinb quickly covered her breasts and pussy with her hands to prevent them from being exposed. “Ah.... Are you fucking crazy?” “Yes, I am crazy. You get all the attention and I just want some compensation from you.” With that said, Jungwoo pressed Sinb's hand against the wall so that her breasts were in front of his eyes. “Woah ... You have a nice tits.” He said. His hand automatically cupped around her tits and starts to grope her tits. “It is so soft and nice.” He admired her breasts. 

Since her hand was pressed by him, Sinb could not resist.  Jungwoo’s groping skills were so good that she accidentally let out a moan. "So you like me to play with your tits like this.” He smirked and used his finger to tease her nipples until it was hard. “I…. fucking… hate it…” She can't even say a word properly because of his teasing. Her body moved around like it was very itchy. He was so excited when he saw how Sinb's bitchy face turned to an ashamed face. 

He can't wait and bury his face between her tits. He licked over her tits and sucked her tits like a baby. “You are so dirty, let me go.” Sinb tried to push away Jungwoo but he was strong so he didn't move even a little bit. Although she wanted to leave, her hands were already fingering herself and she unconsciously began to enjoy his teasing. Jungwoo feels a liquid flowing down to the floor, so he stops his action and he realizes that Sinb is fingering herself until she squirts. “Seem you like it so much? The floor is now all of your liquid.” 

Sinb didn't know that Jungwoo had stopped sucking and he caught her fingering herself. “Shut up, loser. No, you are a rapist now.” He ignored her accusations and pulled her into the toilet. “Nope, I am not yet a rapist but I will be one later.” Sinb was very frightened after hearing this and was about to run away, but Jungwoo bent her down on the sink. He slapped her butt to warn her not to try to run away. He buried his face behind her and ate her pussy. The smell of her pussy mixed with her sweat and juice turned him very on. "Your pussy stinks so much, but I like it." He continued to eat her sensitive pussy, bringing her to orgasm. “Fuck, I am cumming.” Sinb squirted more this time than before, her body twitching so hard and making her body fall on the sink. 

Jungwoo looked at Sinb's twitching body lying on the sink with satisfaction. He knew that this was the only way to take revenge on her. “Hey bitch, it's not the time for you to rest.” He took off his pants and took out his rock-hard cock, but Sinb laughed at him. “Your dick is so tiny like a toothpick.” He gets angry and grabs her hair making her arch back. "You'll find out how big my dick is later."  

He waited no more and thrust his dick inside her pussy. “Fuck, you are so freaking tight.” Sinb covered her mouth with her hand to prevent herself from moaning. Even though she said his dick was small, the size was actually too big for her. Jungwoo grabbed her waist and started thrusting. “Ah….. Fuck… you fucking rapist !!! Stop… now. Otherwise, I will call the police and sue you.” Sinb said tremblingly. Although she said she wanted him to stop, she actually enjoyed the feeling of being fucked hard. “Keep scolding, the more you scold me, the hornier I will be.” 

Her pussy. was getting wetter and warmer, making him feel something he had never experienced before. “Sinb…. Your pussy is good to fuck. Ah…..” His dick was completely wrapped by her liquid making him easily thrust to the deepest. Jungwoo each thrust will hit her g-spot making her let out the largest moan ever in her life. “Sto…p. Stop it, fuck… Ah…” Sinb was a moaning mess right now. 

Her moaning turned him more on and Jungwoo grabbed her tits from behind and groped her. He likes her modest tits so he keep playing with her tits and kissing her shoulder while his lower body was keep fucking Sinb’s pussy. “Huh… You like the way I fuck you? Your pussy is so moist now, I can tell you will receive your third orgasm later.” 

“Hell no… Just stop please.” Sinb is begging Jungwoo to let her go since she didn't want to get fuck by her loser. “Your pussy is so wet now, I know you like the feel when your loser fuck you up.” Jungwoo likes it when Sinb can do nothing but only moan. So, he sped up his thrust. He's getting closer to his climax. After a few thrusts, Jungwoo shot his first load of the day inside Sinb. “Oh fuck… The feeling was so good.” 

Sinb shed tears and collapsed on the ground. She didn't know Jungwoo would cum inside her. However, his dick is still hard after he cumming. “Hey, I am not yet done with you.” He grabbed her hair and made her sit still. “Lick it.” He asks her to lick his dick but she doesn't want to. So, Jungwoo forced her mouth open and put it into her mouth.

Sinb tried to break free but her strength was not strong enough. He knew he needed to do the work himself, so he grabbed her head and moved his hip to facefuck her. “Your mouth is as good as your pussy. Haha.” Jungwoo makes a devilish laugh. Sinb is struggling because his dick makes her almost out of breath. She kept patting his legs to ask him to let her breathe.

He didn't let her go easily. He wanted to see her expression of pain and struggle, and he would not let go until she reached the limit. He sees Sinb almost reach her limit so he pulls out his dick and lets her catch back her breath. Jungwoo likes to see an arrogant lady panting because of his dick. His hands were not idle, he was stroking his cock until she was enough for her rest. 

“You fuc…..” Sinb didn't even finish a complete sentence before the cock was already stuffed into her mouth. "I've had enough of your insults. It seems like your mouth can only be used by men as a sex tool. It doesn't matter if you win the championship, you're just a slut being fucked by me in the toilet now.” As the insults get more intense, Jungwoo thrusts faster. Sinb drools continuously during intense facefuck. Due to the insult and fierce thrusting, he accidentally cum in her mouth. He took a deep breath as if relieved. He pulled out his dick from her mouth. Jungwoo saw that there was still some cum left on his cock, so he wiped the remaining cum on Sinb's face. Jungwoo grabbed her mouth so she couldn't close it. He was very happy watching his semen flow out of Sinb's mouth. All that semen dripped down her body. “My cum on you is like art, hahaha!!” Sinb just kept glaring at him as if she wanted to kill him. Like a successful revenger, Jungwoo left the toilet with satisfaction and Sinb was left naked in the toilet. 

[py-dreamer]

Yea!!! Can you tell I have favorites lol

so since it's the 20th in my time, it is officially my birthday today!

But I wanted to get this out regardless so kinda count it as the previous day's ig

I will be posting something later today probably but it will most likely just be a compilation of all the cakes I've done thus far.

Ok but um on with the cake!

It's like a cheesecake and I basically copied Tengen's cake with like a jelly filling with fruit suspended in it, peaches (obviously), strawberries and blueberries cause I like them and sod it I'll put them on this goddamn cake!

The thing Wukong's sitting on is one of those peach ice creams that's gotten so popular lately with the sprinkle of pink dust thingy on top.

On either side of the cake is the fillet from the journey and the hat from the brotherhood era, one from his reckless past and one from his redemption and I just think that's neat.

The blue puffy stuff is meant to be his nimbus clouds represented as cotton candy.

I have the baiju jar in there as reference to Wukong becoming immortal again due to the all the wine made from the peaches of immortality at the festival.

The staff as a little candle was so fun! And I like pocky so I chucked them on there to fill space and it looks good so sue me

The grey thing behind the staff and balloon is meant to be the Buddha's hand that trapped him under the mountain and a reference to his imprisonment under 5 phases mountain.

Peach popsicle! Of course I had too! A lil something from the present for our (shadow) peachy friend

Mk's stone as well, had to add his son in there too. The baby ever.

(probably just a cookie but it's the thought that counts)

The two sugar cookies are meant to be his logo (aka the lmk logo) and fireworks, again taken from Tengen's cake.

The sun is a candied/tanghulu esque orange thing. Like an orange slice coated in yellow melted sugar shaped like a sun and the phoenix feather cap since I consider it iconic enough to put in here. I didn't want to put it on him, blocking a lot of the decorations so I just hung it to the side and I think I'm happy with that.

A lot more monkeys here! It was very fun popping them in! I know I only gave Mac 1 but I mean Wukong's the monkey king for a reason. Let him be a loving grandpa and invite his subjects on the cake with him. He granted them immortality by ripping their names out the book of dead, let them have a place on the cake too

Also, yes that is the origami pilgims in the bottom left, I couldn't leave them alone could I?

Now the elephant in the room (or at least in my head), yes I did use @maplesleep's matcha pancake design for flower fruit mountain.

Cake on cake. Bit much but hey, I like cake and pastries better than candy normally so win for me.

And I couldn't just make cake about Sun Wukong without mentioning his home/origins of ffm. I do genuinely love the inginuity and adorableness factor of the pancake design and hope they don't mind me slapping it on my...cheesecake? Jelly cake? Jelly-cheesecake?

(also I have to ask @maplesleep, did you watch the 3rd emirichu anime cafe video, specifically the urusei yatsura cafe as inspiration for the 'sun wukong's strawberry sponge cake punishment' parfait thingy, gorgeously drawn btw I used those drawings as inspiration quite a bit for these cakes, or saw the urusei yatsura collab anime cafe

cause I couldn't help but notice the similarities between that and the 'shinobu's maiden strength parfait' cause if you didn't that be a pretty funny coincidence lol)

So what do you think? You think I could make it as another lmk food chef for lego? Can I join the club lmao?

I do realize in retrospect the disrespect I did Mk by making his cake so plain by comparison to his mentor's. But I think that's a testament to my improvement and attention to detail when making these cakes as the days have progressed!

I consider Mk's in particular to be the most lacking and I lowkey feel so bad for my boi for not giving him the main character status he deserves.

I might draw him again, idk. Not anytime soon though, like I said, I'm quite busy now more than before and I need a break, still glad I could serve y'all another slice of cake though!

[sunthyme]

LAST PART!!! WE'RE IN THE HOME STRETCH, BOIS! Thank y'all so much, I know I keep saying it but I really appreciate y'all sm. The next post I do will feature my Yuusona or Prefect design and some headcanons featuring it. After that, I'll give y'all some options to see whatcha'll want. Now for...

🌹Diasomnia🌹

The disclaimer from Ignihyde is still in effect here, most of my headcanons are either because it looked cool or sounded cool lmao.

First up is...

🐉Malleus Draconia🐉

(he/she/they/it any basically) Agender - Panromantic Asexual

*giggles, kicks feet, twirls hair* Mal... Anyways! Some of y'all probably been waiting for this one! My silly fae prince, whose identity may or may not be based on my own. Sue me, this bitch is hella relatable.

- So, onto the headcanons, I felt like Mal wasn't all that intimidating when he first popped up outside our house. Idk, I see a cat-type personality and all my self preservation is thrown out the nearest window. She's just a big meow. But I wanted them to actually look rather intimidating, making his bangs cover his eyes a bit more, darker makeup, whatnot.

- I know Mal is canonically taller than the rest of the cast but Imma make her even taller. Its 6'6" without the horns and like 6'11 or 7' with them. I want them to be a cryptid!! Also the height difference with Lilia bout to be crazy.

- I like the idea that my prefect made her some lil Howl's Moving Castle earrings, even though it obvious doesn't exist in their world. Or maybe it does??? Who knows.

- *scientist voice* The autism is this subject is astronomical. *cough* Yeah, it's also not up for debate. The gargoyles, the general demeanour. Yuu is their favoured person.

- Malleus and my prefect would probably interact a little differently than Yuu does canonically, as we're both silly little autistic people, but I'll save that for my Yuusona post lol.

- Really tempted to throw in that it has a forked tongue. Does have fangs but Mal and Jamil probably both have forked tongues, j st for funsies.

- Loves to read sappy romance novels, is giggling and kicking her feet at soulmate stuff in particular. Has a whole list of little date ideas in a notebook (totally not saying this because /I/ have one or anything)...

Not mush else to say give I've only canonically interacted with her like three times but now for everyone's favourite grandpa!

🦇Lilia Vanrouge🦇

(he/she) - Bisexual

- Teehee! So I saw someone headcanons Lilia as Indian and I was SO here for it, though I think he's be half Indian, half Mexican or smth.

- Gave this girl SO many piercing. I feel like she got them 'cause she was bored. Idk, 500 years is pretty old, ya gotta spice things up some how.

- Some scars from 'ye old days'(tm) and I made his hair a bit wavy and added a green gradient to the ends, just to mimick Malleus' hair. Also, this bitch stands a proud 5'3" on a good day (aka with heels).

- He's the kind of dad that makes his kids wear matching pjs during the winter holidays and while he knows his kids like the back of his hand, chooses to give them silly gifts most of the time. Also, he spoils Mal and Silver rotten.

- Absolutely tries to get Malleus to properly flirt with MC but it never works out like he plans. Silver just watches with mild amusement.

Speaking of Silver,

🗡️Silver Vanrouge🗡️

(he/they) Demiboy - Achillic Asexual

- Yes, I was mad he doesn't canonically have a last name. I figured that Lilia would have officially adopted him at some point or another and typically you need a last name for a lot of things so I just gave them Lilia's.

- I think that Silver's gray hair is natural and once it gets to be a certain length, it just becomes gray. Additionally, Lilia's a cool dad so Silver got dyed ends and piercings too.

- I actually headcanon that Silver's blind and has narcolepsy (though that's pretty much canon). It was likely from birth or manifested early on and as a result, Malleus is a bit protective of Silver (and Sebek is too but he'd never admit it lol). He has a service dog, which is probably a cute golden retriever named Aurora, and records lectures to listen back to. He, Kalim, and Ruggie have little study groups as second years. Also, Silver's autistic. Lilia really out here collecting autistic children lmaooo.

- He really likes to knit. Don't ask why but I think he'd enjoy the rhythym of it. (He's made Ruggie and Kalim scarves and both treasure them a ton) He likes to make blankets for Malleus and Lilia as well as himself. He loves to work with the chunkier and softer yarns, especially because it makes keeping track of the stitches easier.

- Owes SO MANY plushies. His bed is half dedicated to them, most probably give to him by Lilia for birthdays and holidays. He loves soft things so all the plushies are like squishmellows and stuff.

Ah, I love Silver. Onto our last canon character,

🐊Sebek Zigvolt🐊

(he/him) - Achillic

Oh boy, this design was such a pain. I literally had to redo it because I didn't like it. Though, in the end, I think it turned out pretty neat.

- On with the physical stuff, I fucked around with his skin tone a bit because it did not look right with his hair in my og design which had a more lime, yellowy green instead of the mint. I made it warmer and ditched the yellow green for the original design's mint, just darker. Finally, I thought I needed a kick of something so I gave him some violet streaks and eyes and BOOM! A Sebek!

- I gave him a bit of a rounder face, I feel like he wouldn't have outgrown his baby chub yet, and a single dimple. I thought it'd be super cute, sue me. Cute lil freckles, the works.

- One thing I am super proud of was his Lichtenburg scar (I believe that's what it's called, I've only really heard in in TMA oops). While I certainly didn't do it justice here, I'll be fleshing it out at some point. I think it's a cool addition to the character based on lighting, maybe his magic accidentally hit him or damaged him at some point idk.

- He is, wait for it... also autistic. Shocker, pun intended. He's actually AuDHD to me and has issues with volume regulation, which is real idk. Would actually also be sensitive to loud noise, as backwards as that sounds. Has noise-cancelling headphones courtesy of Idia. Malleus is his favoured person and he looks up to him a lot.

- Grew up loving dragons and thinking they were like the coolest fcuking things then met Mal and was in awe. Was a totally nerd about dragons as a kid and still has figures and posters and whatnot.

God, I love the Diasomnia characters sm omgggg. It's time for my ocs!

🪡Thumbelina Souster🪡

Third Year - (they/she) Genderqueer - Pansexual

She looks like Zelda. I know... but she's pretty!

- Thumbelina is 'twisted' from the loom in the story of Sleeping Beauty. IF EPEL IS LITERALLY AN APPLE, she can be a loom. Anyhow, I made her a fae as well, likely one of the craft fairies, just taking on a more human-sized form. She takes a ton of inspo from the og story of Thumbelina, as a tiny little fae she got separated from her kin and raised by human parents. That's why she doesn't have the 'ick' about humans that most fae have.

- When she got accepted to NRC, Crowley gave her access to a potion that changes her size so she'd be able to attend school easier. Her parents were tailors and so she grew up around sewing but could never do it because of how tiny she was. When she changed sizes, she immediately wanted to try her hand at sewing, official joining (or maybe founding) the sewing club.

- After intially joining Diasomnia and seeing Lilia's piercings, they piqued her curiosity and she got some.

- As a fae, she loves to be outdoors and tends to a garden outside of the dorm. She also rather oblivious when some expresses interest in her as she's not familiar with human courting. Lilia adopts yet another autistic child lmao.

For another character based on something mildly abstract...

🥀Munkh Sarnai🥀

Second Year - (they/he/she) Genderfluid - Asexual Aromantic

- Munkh is my character for the thorns that encircled Aurora's castle. Minorly abstract but hey, cool ass character design.

- They're Mongolian and I wanted the spikey aspect to really shine through, giving them liberty spikes thanks to my friend's suggestion! Wanted to go really punk especially because I haven't really done so in a character design before and I LOVE IT!

- She was originally going to have a Maleficent colour palette for the spikes but it was getting too close to some of the other designs so I made it black and red to emulate roses.

- He's a part of the music club as well, likely a vocalist or drummer. He loves the energy and the people are really cool, plus obviously his vice housewarden's there.

- They're also on the athletic side and enjoy various sports, namely Spelldrive. Also, she does own her own blastcycle and immediately bonds with Deuce over a shared love of them. Deuce and Munkh like this 🤞.

Last but not least...

⏰Kyra Delano⏰

First Year - (she/her) - Sapphic

Pspsps... TMA fandom... pspsps Delano...

- Kyra's my oc twisted from Tick Tock, the alligator(?) from Peter Pan. I gave her the yellow-green from my original Sebek design and it looks way better here.

- I think as a reference to the clock and like 'ticking', she'd have Tourette's. It sometimes flares up more than others so she has an agreement with the teachers about class times where it's acting up.

- I think she'd have like mild beef with Josephina because they met on a wrong foot during orientation but it's not a huge deal. Probably sleep-deprived Josephina said something insulting Diasomnia and Kyra was like, "What the hell?". They have a friendly competition going on now, every gym class.

- She's a part of the track and field club and is one of the fastest on the team. That being said, she's not a huge fan of physical activity and prefer to read in the library or study.

Head's up, I lied. This isn't the last post. I have to do the staff and extra character like Neige, Che'nya, and Cheka. Plus Grim. I tricked you >:). Mayhaps it'll be up tomorrow... love y'all!🩷🩷🩷

[saphirafoxgirlspost1]

(Open Rp) "Godly Love"

A Long time Ago in the Small town of Middleton, where the times Of a Lovely Kitsunes romantic relationships Went Down Hill on the Marriage with Her "Soon-to-be" Ex-husband name Ronald Stoppable. It Started By When Ron Change his attitude Since After Marriage, Saphira notice his change..and all her money, jewelery and her clothes went missing...She got really Suspicious on Rons behavior..He never Show up at the hospital when she got into the accident, he stood her Out on the romantic dinner date after Saphira made a reservation...and of course..the death of her 4 beloved children..who died mysteriously..until...He Shows up at the "Wake" party..all dressed in color..and Saw the illegal Pill bottles came out of the pocket and landed on the floor..and she knew he did this..but he wasn't alone..She saw her friend Kim and her arch Bully bonnie...until One day on they're 2 year anniversary, Saphira saw ron and Kim on the dance Floor kissing together..and then..Saphira stormed at him and said.

Saphira: "RONALD STOPPABLE!!" Ron froze as he sees His Angry Wife..Holding a frying pan with rage look on her face..and she taps her foot. Ron:"Saph, this isn't what it looks like!"

Saph: "It is What it looks like ronald, Don't you dare lied to me! Do you have any idea what day it is!?" Ron: "umm..it's thursday?" Then SMACK! She hits ron with a frying pan..and she did the same thing with kim and Bonnie at the same time.. Saph:"NO!, It's Our Anniversary! and You! cheated on me!..Now..I'm going to divorce you..and sue you for Petty thieft!..and i'll have you charge of murder of my babies!..Your going to pay.."You" i mean YOU! And Those two Sluts are going to pay me For Everything YOU Stole from me!..and oh yea..I told your family and those two as well...See ya in court Stoppable! Cause when I'm Done with ya, I'm moving away and never come back..so i can start fresh in my life!" Then..day later..Divorce Is official..Ron, Kim, and Bonnie was charge of murder and has to pay Saphira 50,000$ for damages each..and 40,000$ For Murdering her 4 precious angels..and requested to be Castrated and sterile..to make sure no kids exist in this world...So after the Divorce and rewarded..saphira began to Move away from middleton and Start a New life in the Island of Nantucket, Home of the Greatest god Of them all..He's the Sun god.....She sees the statue of him...Which is saphira was pretty interested in this place...So Saphira got herself a Nice Big house on the hill...She was so happy that she lives in the luxury life near the sea..But in few weeks..she was heartbroken and felt betrayed..She looked back in the past..knowing that she was betrayed by the ones she loves the most...She sighs softly in sorrows..5 weeks had passed..Saphira looked at this god and said" well...if you had someone who loves you..that means your a lucky bastard...but me..*Sighs*...i got betrayed...2 years of my marriage was just a Sham...nothing but a big fat Sham..oh i wish i had someone like you..*Scoff*..your a one lucky bastard..." She gets up and sighs...next day..Saphira was sitting on the bolder alone..until...One handsome man..came to her..his hair is blue..and his bod was well built..when she sees him..her face turns pink and he said...

[quantum1mmortality]

please some vampire bi-han? 🙏🏻

You guys just can't get enough of the vampire writings smh y'all need Jesus(it's me, I'm Jesus and I'm writing this for you because I need it too)

Tw/cw: THIS ISNT GONNA BE AN NSFW BC I ACTUALLY WANT TO MAKE THIS FULL OF STORY!!! IF YOU WANT AN NSFW VERSION, PLEASE ASK ME!!! OR DONT IDC, you guys know the drill by now cmon (highly influenced by Angel from BTVS SUE ME IDC HES HOT)

Not proofread

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

Your relationship with Bi Han is a lot more complicated that it would be with Kung Lao or Raiden. He'd often times only visit you at night, and he'd only stay for a few hours.

It all started when you were walking home. Alone, in the dark, not a good match for a young woman. This was proven correct by you almost getting hurt in an accident, but luckily Bi Han was there to save you.

You begged and pleaded with him to tell you someway you could make it up to him. If it wasn't for him, you'd be dead! You thought you owed him your life.

After a few minutes of your back and forth, you saying he deserved something while he said he didn't need anything, you settled on taking him out for coffee.

You guys sat at that cafe for nearly 3 hours just talking. Talking about everything you guys could think of. At the end of the night, which only ended because the cafe was closing, he walked you home.

You didn't think much of it, you'd known each other on a first name basis by now and he just wanted to be nice.

Or at least, that's what you thought. He would show up every night after that, the exact same time, the exact same way, asking the exact same thing. "Would you like to join me for coffee?" Those words would ring in your head in the morning, he just kept coming back, asking the same thing over and over.

You didn't mind it, but at the same time, you found it odd. This man you knew for only 3 hours would come to your house every night, take you out for coffee, pay for everything, take you back home, and wouldn't talk to you again till the next night. Something about him was off, very off, but you didn't know what.

It's not that you didn't feel safe around him, you did, but there was something he wasn't telling you. You knew he wanted to, he just couldn't.

One night, he told you he was a private investigator, even going as far as to show you his official badge. You wanted to know more about it, considering most of the time he'd just ask about you and not talk about himself much.

He went on to say that he'd usually investigate disappearances, murder cases, and even paranormal activity sometimes. Bi Han continued by saying he'd often take care of the source of the crime before the police got to it, somehow always finding out inside information.

You were completely intrigued. You wanted to see him in action, but he said that would be too dangerous for you. He gave you his business card and walked you back home, telling you to swing by his headquarters tomorrow morning and he'll tell you everything you need to know about him.

He said it in such a serious way it sent chills down your spine. This was an offer you couldn't miss. You got up early just to be there on the time you agreed on, walking into I nearly organized office area.

Oddly enough, however, all of the blinds on the windows were completely closed. You thought this was extremely odd, wondering why, but before you could go too deep into thought, you could see Bi Han in the corner of your eye.

"Care for some coffee?" He says with a playful smirk as he points to the full coffee pot on his end table.

He had given you a small tour before taking you to the lower part of the building. "This is where I live, train, sleep, shower, everything. Call it a basement, I call it home."

To be fair, it was a finished basement, completed with rug and hardwood floors and even a spruce ceiling, at least he has taste.

He showed you around even more and ended the tour at his bedroom. "This is my bedroom. I like to keep it simple, but the bed is comfortable, I swear. It's memory foam."

He smiles at you before taking you to the small couch in his living room. He sat you down, and turned to you with a very serious look on his face.

"Y/n, there's something I've been keeping from you. Something I need to tell you. We've known each other for a while now," it's true. You guys have been seeing each other for coffee for the past 4 weeks. This is the very first time you've ever seen him in the day time, odd considering he'd never missed a day of taking you out.

"I know this is gonna sound insane, and I have proof, but I need you to trust me." He let out a deep sigh before continuing, "I'm a vampire."

You just looked at him, in complete disbelief. Not for the reasons you should be, though. You were wondering if he was joking or not.

"Are you being serious? Do you genuinely expect me to believe that?" You said as you chuckle into your hand a bit. He face only grew more serious as he took your hand and led you upstairs, going to the side of one of the windows before opening the blinds and letting you see as his hand began to sizzle. He let out a small gasp of pain as he pulled away, hand now smoking because of the heat.

You were in shock. You still didn't completely believe him, however. "Maybe you just have a skin condition, that doesn't mean anything."

You didn't want to believe the man that you had been talking to for so long was a FUCKING VAMPIRE. it was hard to come to terms with really.

He walked over to you slowly, holding up his hand as the smoldering wound miraculously healed in seconds.

He grabbed your hands, taking them in his as he makes eye contact with you. His gaze softens as he can see the uncertainty in your eyes.

He opens his mouth slowly, showing his retractable fangs. That's it. You were convinced. You gasped as he let go of you, letting you have your space.

"I know this might be a lot to take in, but I hope this doesn't change anything between us. I still care about you."

You genuinely don't know how to feel, conflicted by someone you thought you could trust. How did he go so long without telling you about this? It honestly hurt you to know that he was keeping this from you.

"I think we should have some time off from each other. I need a bit to process this, it's a lot to take in all at once." He could hear fear in your voice, and it broke his heart knowing he was the cause of it.

He nodded his head, watching as you left the building. He leaned back on his desk, wondering what he could've done better, wondering what he could've done to make you feel more safe.

He was going to make it up to you somehow, he just knew you needed time. He was patient, but after waiting so long to make you his, his patience is wearing thin. Very thin.

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

A/n: boom shaka laka

[soothinglee]

even if my heart stops beating⏤✰

seungmin x reader | 1.6k✔︎

my notes⎯ hello everyone ! I know it's been a while since I've actually wrote something ! I actually got hit by a bus! yeah I had to sue this company called "writers block" and I finally got a settlement! (also happy new year!) I recently (like a week ago) got into Kpop, specifically Stray Kids ! I've read some fan fictions (shameless) about some of my favorites and got inspo to write one! thank you @soobnny . also I haven't wrote anything in a while so i'm a little rusty, i'll be as good as new soon!

warning⎯ mentions of vomit (used as word vomit) and crying.

genre⎯ angst to comfort.✔︎

songs⎯ six feet under; billie eilish | pretty boy; the neighborhood

the old rusted clock that came with the condo you and seungmin bought sits perched on the top of the fridge. Its old, wooden frame slowly caves in on itself as time goes on.

not even an hour or two ago you had happily entered your home to start cooking dinner, not even worrying about showering first because you were so excited to have dinner with your boyfriend.

even going out of your way to spend a hundred dollars over the amount you usually spend to give seungmin the greatest 'welcome home' feast. he and the rest of stray kids had been on tour for the last couple months, traveling all over the world to perform at concerts and do collaborations with other idols to promote their new albums.

sure, it had been lonely, being by yourself all of the time, the only glimpse of your boyfriend you could get is when he could facetime you for 2 minutes or when he responded back to a text 4 hours later. but you understood, you knew what you were getting yourself into even when you started becoming friends with him.

if anything, you were strong, understanding, and flexible to when he couldn't make it to something like a movie night or date when his plane arrives later or practice runs over.

the only thing now, is that he had promised you that he could make it on time to dinner. sending countless 'I swear ill be there' texts and swift calls ensuring his presences at the dinner table during his dance rehearsals.

but now you were sitting at the table alone. a cold jajangmyeon sits in the platter in front of you, a similar on across the table from you. looking up at that old clock the hour turns to 10 and he's officially 2 hours late. it wasn't unknown for him to run a little over his time but this was unbelievable. you curse yourself for being naive and truly thinking he would keep to his word.

as you get up and clean the meal that you created you feel a little piece inside of you break, watching your hard work spill into the leftover containers like your tears. this was embarrassing, waiting around like a puppy in hopes your owner comes home. you were loyal and hopeful to a fault but wasting time and money like this was just unacceptable.

by the time seungmin walked through the front door it was half pass midnight and you had situated yourself infront of the t.v watching a new drama a colleague from work recommended.

"(name)." he calls out, you hear his shoes hit the wall as he takes them off, and then theres a shuffle as he organizes them on the shoe rack. you hear him leave his keys in the bowl on the desk that was by the front door, his footsteps growing louder as he nears the living room.

"(name)." he calls out again, seeing you lay in a cocoon of blankets in the dark, he think maybe you're sleeping so he quietly discards his winter coat on the back of the couch. he flicks on the lamp on the other side of the couch to bring in some light. though when he comes around to sit down he finds your eyes wide open, "why didn't you answer me when I called?"

"why didn't you come on time like you promised?" you quipped back quietly, suddenly too exhausted to have any conversation with him. you try and sink further into the thick blanket as you watch the Netflix symbol load and the next episodes intro plays.

you can't see his face but when he sighs and shifts in his spot you can hear the hesitance, "you already know why, practice ran late, like always."

"whatever."

"'whatever?' what's going on with you?"

"nothing." your tone is snipped but honestly you couldn't care less. somewhere in your soul you feel as though this might be a little extreme of an reaction but there is only so much patience you can give one person. you constantly make time for him and this relationship, so why couldn't he move things around and do the same for you? your eyes remain on the television.

seungmins eyes dart quickly to the t.v and then back to you, noticing that your full attention isn't on him, so he leans over you and goes to grab the remote from your hands. at the sudden loss of contact you make a move to try and get the remote back from him but he effectively powers down the t.v and discards in on the coffee table.

"I'll only repeat myself so many times, what's going on?"

it was like a newfound energy fizzled at your toes and pushed itself up and towards your head, your body springs up from its sideways position and you angle yourself to face seungmin.

though the light was somewhat dim due to only the lamp being on, he could see the red-rim of your eyes and the dried streaks of tears sticking to your cheeks. obviously, it had been evident that you had been crying.

seungmins eyes soften for a moment, he reaches out to try and smooth out the puffiness of your cheeks but as soon as you see his hand coming you push it away, "you were crying?" it comes out more of a statement than a concerned question, but the worry was still evident in his tone.

"duh," you start, suddenly feeling uncomfortable in the tense space, you find comfort in the carpet on the ground. you were feeling...nervous. you didn't want to cause anymore problems but things won't get solved unless they are discussed, which in all honesty, the thought of confrontation in the first place is feared.

you need to get it out, you can't stop living like this. deep down you know he cares but you have to stop going off of assumptions. either he's going to show up or not, it was clear already that you showed up no matter how busy you were.

"do you even still love me?"

the question tumbles from your lips before you could even process what you were saying. maybe it wasn't what you wanted to convey exactly but it was definitely a start.

"what?" his airy voice sounds dumbfounded which makes sense. the intense look you're giving him plus the profound, out-of-the-blue question throws him off guard.

of course he loves you, why would you ever think anything different? "where is this coming from?"

"well it's just that every time we have something planned your work gets in the way. I spend hours and hours getting ready, trying to look my best, just to waste the day sitting on the couch waiting for you to come home. sometimes I'm waiting so long I fall asleep! I put so much effort into being a good girlfriend! hell, I even spent over 100 dollars on dinner tonight because I knew you had a hectic day, it took me two hours to make it just for it to go cold and put into a container,"

your voice chokes up, full of exhaustion and disappointment. you feel the tears pooling in your eyes but have no energy to stop them. you really want to quit the word vomit but there's no point, theres more to be said.

"I try so hard to not get disheartened but it gets so hard when you don't even try. sometimes I feel like you don't even care about this relationship anymore, like you don't care about m-"

just as you were about to finish your words were muffled by hands on your face, and lips on yours. seungmin had kissed you to stop your rambling. you couldn't help but to feel relieved and somewhat offended.

"stop." he whispers as he takes a breath, his hands still on your face, foreheads connecting, "please stop." his voice crack under pressure, its subtle but at the lack of distance between you two you can hear it so well. your eyes are closed, trying to get your own tears at bay but hearing how emotional he's becoming breaks you. a sob teeters at your bottom lip but you force it still.

"don't you ever think that I don't care. I always have." he pauses and wipes the stray tears on your face with his thumbs, "I'm so sorry I've made you feel like this. god I'm such a bad boyfriend, this is my fault."

you try to move away to comfort him but he holds you in place gently, you sniffle and reach up to brush the bangs from his face.

"I promise you I'll be more attentive, ill take you out everyday, spend as much time with you, cook for you, miss practices all the time just to make sure you know I care about you."

"you promised earlier but you didn't come!" you cry, recounting how long you waited.

"I know!" his voice quivers as his hands tremble, lightly shaking your head, "I know...and i'll never forgive myself. you don't know how much you've shaped me into the person I am now and I- I have no clue what I would do without you. I just have a poor way of showing it."

you grip on his wrists, mimicking him with your eyes squeezed shut, you stopped trying to keep the tears in awhile ago, letting them fall freely into your covered lap. "how do I know I can trust you? I'm so sick of feeling like this."

"I promise you I will prioritize you more than anything, Idol life, dancing, singing- whatever, does not come before you. I won't leave you hanging like this anymore, i'm sorry I didn't pay more close attention to your feelings," his bottom lips shakes as he takes another deep breath, he opens his eyes and you can see pass the tears and sorrow a new found determination.

"even if my heart stops beating, you're the only one I need."

past your wary judgement...you believe him...

[atinylittlepain]

Me Too

college!steve harrington x f!oc

part of the girl boy series

18+ references to smut, idiots in love, emotional constipation, strep throat, lovey doveys in general

...............................................

“Hmm.”

“Hmm?”

“That’s kind of interesting, don’t you think?” 

“The colors are nice.”

“Nice.” 

“What? They are. And hey, Robin told me to tell you to stop putting your name down on every silent auction sheet. She said people are noticing that one Andy Broder is trying to sweep the whole show.” 

“Oh please, Steve, I can’t help it. The sad student artists look at me with their sad student artist eyes and I feel bad if I don’t put my name down, sue me for having a heart.”

“Can you afford to have a heart?” She scoffs, a little tug back when he tries to take the wine glass out of her hand, though she relents, her smile simpering while he finishes off the last sip. 

“I’m only getting things started. Ten dollars, tops. I doubt I’ll win any of the pieces.” He’s hoping she’s right, because he’s not sure how they’ll get even one of the pottery sets she bid on back to her place if she does win. Sets of plates and bowls and goblets, because apparently this semester’s pottery class was really, really into making goblets. Robin has a set of two bowls and two goblets up for auction. Steve put down twenty dollars on it, to which Robin scoffed and told him you don’t count, you’re family. 

“I guess we’ll see if your logic works.” Maybe he’s being a little much, his hand curling around the plush of her waist, wrapped up in a dark knit dress that’s scattering his mind just a little, pulling her into his side and soft murmuring want another glass? And her humming no, long walk home and all, her palm smoothing out beneath his sternum, warm brown nail polish that he watched her put on in a curl on her couch. Maybe a little much when he tips his chin to press a kiss just beneath her ear, warm rasp of did I tell you how good you look? She sighs, laughs a little, how very male gaze of you, baby, but thank you, and that thank you is soft, slight, a secret that makes his heart feather and fret against his ribs for a breath. 

He gets to be a little much now, because they’re official now, a thing now. Had the conversation last weekend and he nearly pulled his hair out working up the nerve to tell her yes, old fashioned, yes, he wants that old fashioned thing with her, wants to be hers, and wants her to be his. And her eyes had widened, a slight blanching, before he realized that he was making it sound like the ring and the dress and the suit thing, quick back pedal, not quite that, at least not yet. But he left the not yet part out. And she had smiled, softened, collected his wrists in her hands to stop him from tugging at his hair, her thumbs stroking the quick jump of pulse beneath his skin. Yes, she told him, she had been wanting the same thing too, with him. So yeah, he gets to be a little much, his palm lingering on the hilt of her spine as they walk around the gallery, both of them tucking into the other. And when she ends up winning three of the bowl, plate, goblet sets she bid on for a grand total of thirty dollars, they take turns hauling the recycled moving box full of ceramics, switching off at every block and laughing at themselves, breaths puffing out like curled smoke in the cold night air. 

“Eddie wouldn’t want a goblet, would he?”

“Actually, considering he takes his diet coke in a coffee mug, I think he’d probably be into it.”

“Great, he can have three of them.” They leave the box next to her front door, shrugging out of coats and shoes, intent on sleep after a late night that really shouldn’t have been a late night for either of them. Finals, the end of the semester, and it’s certainly feeling like it. He doesn’t mind though, all but setting up permanent shop with her in her apartment. Has a few hangers in her closet, and a drawer in her dresser, and Sylvia doesn’t even pay him any mind these days, padding right past him up to the box and sniffing a bit disinterestedly at a bowl. 

No classes for the last week, just prep for exams and deadlines. They’ve spent the majority of their time in a quiet comfort on her couch studying and working on their respective coursework, only breaking for light touches and meals and the occasional walk amongst melting and refreezing snow. 

All this time with her is making him a little giddy, a little greedy, already feeling an anticipatory ache for when he leaves on Friday with Eddie and Robin to drive back to Hawkins for the holidays. He had thought about it, he had, but he’d firmly decided it’d be too much to ask. Only just a thing, only just official, and he didn’t want to overstep, come on too strong, too bold. Learned that somewhere along the way, and he can’t remember whose bed he was warming when he did. 

So he’ll go back to Hawkins, and Andy will go back to Boston, but not for another week because the less time I spend there, the better. He can understand that. 

“What do you have tomorrow?” 

“Oral exam for my global inequality class, and a paper to turn in for mental health policy. You?”

“Business policy and strategy paper, and a calc exam.” 

“Hmm, better you than me, babe.” Steam starting to rise and fog in her bathroom and both of them stripped down to threadbare underwear, not trying to impress each other any more. She presses a quick kiss to the round of his shoulder and murmurs something that sounds like almost done into his skin. And he feels pathetic, pitiful over the fact that almost done makes his heart pinch and pull into a sort of nauseous swoop. It’s ridiculous, he knows, only a few weeks, he knows that too. But still, but still, he doesn’t want to be almost done. 

Moving over and around each other in the bathroom, skin still damp from their shower, that oatmeal and chamomile soap she uses flooding his senses, and it feels like the most natural thing, like it has been like this all along. He lets his palm run up and down the track of her spine, feeling the notches through the thin fabric of her t-shirt while she sits up in bed, proofing her paper one final time, printed, with red pen poised. She won’t find anything to fix, he knows, worked hard on it all of yesterday and then they both trudged to the library to type up their respective work and print it out. And when she has decided that she is content with her work, she gets up and tucks it into a folder that she tucks into her bag. He watches the plush shake of her thighs, one-track mind and he’ll admit it, his hands finding bare skin when she comes back to bed, back to him. Curling close under the covers and maybe, maybe, he holds her a little closer, tucks his face into the stitching of her throat and breathes, and breathes to keep himself from saying words that wouldn’t be fair to say right now, not when he’s leaving tomorrow night. 

They both sleep hard and late, and he’s pretty sure she meant to be up earlier, little snit, little snap when he wakes her up, her shoulders hiking up to her ears and she’s already out of bed and out of his hands before he can say anything. And he’s not sure what this is, a cool prickle of worry simmering and slipping up his spine as they both move through getting dressed, distant and silent and her hardly looking at him, and he doesn’t know what happened in the last twelve hours for her to change so much. Stress, he tells himself, she’s stressed, and frankly so is he, and they’re both tired, and they’re both running late, and that must be it. 

“Are you gonna be around this afternoon?” She asks it light as air as she’s wrapping a scarf around her throat, more business associate than anything else and it almost makes him laugh.

“I, well, yeah, unless you don’t want me to be? But I’m leaving tonight, so.” The so feels lame even as he says it, maybe even a bit bitchy, her brows pulling together and then smoothing out all over again, unreadable.

“Okay, I know. So I’ll see you later then?” And there’s little room for an answer, already out the door, and ushering him out too, and he feels like he’s going to throw up even as his body does all the necessary things, down the stairs and out the door and it’s too late to say anything other than mmhmm because she’s already walking in the other direction to her exam that’s on that side of campus, away from his exam on this side of campus. 

No, not how it went yesterday. Yesterday, he had almost been late to his accounting exam because they just couldn’t quite seem to let go of each other, slipping and skidding over icy sidewalks all wrapped up and laughing and whispering little luck to each other between kisses. Not like today, not how it went today. And maybe, he thinks, maybe this is just that thing that seems to happen to him every time. Maybe this is the getting tired of him. Maybe this is the leaving. 

He sits for his exam, turns in his paper, goes back to his apartment to pack a bag for home, and he’s grateful that neither Robin nor Eddie are around so that they can’t clock the strange fugue state he’s sifting through. But he still returns to her apartment, that want to feel whatever this wound is ache a little more. And plainly, he still wants to see her.

There’s no answer when he knocks on her door, calls out her name, her real name, and it feels weird in his mouth because these days she’s honey, sometimes baby, but always honey. And it feels weird too, using the key she gave him for the first time, but there’s an admitted pang of worry flickering in his chest because she should definitely be back by now. 

He’s greeted with the curl of her back, tucked into herself on the couch and perfectly unmoving. She still has her coat on and he’s never seen her like this before. He kneels down next to the couch, rests his palm on her shoulder and runs a soft track down to her elbow and back up again. And this time it is honey, quiet and almost cracking with how he whispers it, though she stirs, makes a noise that he thinks sounds a little like Sylvia, mmm? 

She turns to look at him, eyes held in dark shadows, a little red, a little weepy, and he has to resist the urge to brush the back of his hand over her forehead because he’s pretty sure he knows what this is, pretty sure he’d find a little too much heat beneath her skin. 

“I thought you’d already left.” And yeah, definitely what this is, her voice somehow dissolving and splitting into a gravelly rasp since this morning. She winces a little with the sound. 

“You really think I’d leave without coming to see you first?” 

“I don’t know, I was a dick to you this morning.”

“Yeah, you kinda were.” She sits up, and he has to resist the urge to help her, his hands settling instead on her knees, and there’s a guilty tuck to her chin, the fan of her lashes dropped down to her cheeks. His thumbs rub circles into her joints, something soothing, coaxing.

“I’m sorry, Steve, I was being stupid.” Her coat has shrugged down to hook around her elbows, a little pitiful, her palm curling at her throat like she could feel the ache through her skin.

“You’re sick.”

“Well that’s a little uncalled for, I think.”

“No, I mean like, you’re not feeling well, are you?”

“I’ll be fine.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

“I’m just tired, need to sleep exams off for a few days.” Her eyes close when he cups her cheek in his palm, little lean into the touch while his fingers creep up to her temple, and his suspicions are confirmed, a thick wash of heat.

“Have you taken anything?” 

“I took some advil when I got home.” 

“Did it help?” She shrugs, a little, while he’s already made a decision. He asks if he can use her phone, really quick, honey, and she shrugs again, already slipping back in between asleep and awake with her head tipped back on the couch cushion. He calls his apartment and Eddie picks up, tells him that he and Robin are going to have to leave without him because he’s needed here. Eddie makes a joke about Lord and Lady Harrington throwing a fit and Steve sighs, not really caring about that. He’ll deal with them when he has to. And then he’s back in front of the couch and coaxing Andy up despite her quiet protests because he’s pretty sure they need to go to Urgent Care. And they go to Urgent Care, and she’s apologizing the whole time and asking doesn’t he need to go? No, he says, not going anywhere. 

Strep throat, and he’s not surprised, and they catch another cab to stop at the pharmacy for her antibiotics. She keeps saying that she doesn’t want him to catch it before he goes home and he has to laugh because honey, if you have it I definitely have it, just a matter of time before I go down. And by the time they get back to her apartment, she seems to have accepted that he’s staying with a sort of sheepish acquiescence, lets him boss her around a little into a shower and then into bed, meds taken with a glass of water and her socked feet slipping against his ankles. She says sorry again into his chest, quiet and small, and he asks her what she’s saying sorry for. 

“You should be with your family.”

“Nah, I like being here better.”

“Even though I sound like I have smoker’s lung?” 

“It’s kinda hot, actually.” 

“Sure, okay.” The slightest laugh that’s more like a caught breath, and then a long enough span of silence for him to think that she’s fallen asleep, but then.

“I really am sorry about this morning.”

“You weren’t feeling well.” 

“I mean, yeah, but, I guess I thought it’d be easier.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re gonna think this sounds dumb.”

“Not with that sexy smoker’s lung rasp I’m not.” Trying to lighten it, lift it, but she scoffs, Steve, serious, not kidding, her eyes unwavering, mouth tucked in the slightest frown, washed thin and pale in the slants of moonlight. 

“You weren’t even gone yet, and I was already missing you, and I felt insane for it.” He’s silent, a thick heat curling in his chest and blooming up and up and up, only feeling a little like an asshole when she says his name like a question, her hand curling in the fabric of his t-shirt. He has to clear his throat before he speaks. 

“It’s the same for me too.” 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, except I wasn’t a dick about it.” Not serious, and she knows it, nose scrunched and a roll of her eyes. 

“You can make it up to me by taking me to Urgent Care in about two days when I start sounding like you.” 

“Yeah, I can do that.” 

“You should sleep, honey.”

“So should you.” She tucks back into his chest, easy, and he just hopes she can’t hear the catch and jolt of his heartbeat, because it’s the same for her as it is for him.

They don’t leave her apartment for three days, and when they finally do, it is, as he predicted, so that they can take him to the Urgent Care for the exact same thing she had. And by the time he’s halfway finished with his round of antibiotics and she’s done with hers, and they’re both starting to feel like actual real people again, it’s December 24th, and it’s become very clear that neither one of them is going home for the holidays. 

He calls his mom, and his voice is still hoarse enough that she’s only mildly disappointed he won’t be home to make his requisite appearance at the family Christmas party. Meanwhile, Andy can hardly hold in a laugh at oh Steven, it’s not one of those, you know, sexually transmitted things, is it? No, mom, it’s not, yes, mom, merry Christmas. Andy’s conversation with her dad is even shorter, even curter, something about shipping presents, and her sisters asking questions. The youngest of five, she told him, more afterthought than anything else. And when they’ve both hung up there’s a giddy realization of their shared freedom, smiling at each other in her kitchen, crowded around the receiver hooked next to her fridge. 

“Are we bad people for doing that?” Trying to be cute in his lean against the fridge, taking the phone out of her hand and hanging it back up on the wall, but he can’t quite fight off the urge to cough first, tucking his face into his elbow before looking at her again, smiling small.

“We’re sick, honey. Our hands are tied, nothing we can do.” 

“Right, uh-huh. In that case, what do you want to do for dinner, my darling invalid?” 

And so there is no tree, and there are no presents, and there is no family this Christmas. They order takeout from a Chinese place a few blocks away, hot and sour soup and fried rice and crab rangoons that Steve offers one of to Sylvia, curled up on the arm of the couch where they have their holiday meal. She sniffs it, holds it briefly between her teeth, then spits it out on the carpet, though she seems to thank him for his consideration with a slow twine between his legs when he gets up to throw it away.

They don’t get out of bed until the middle of the afternoon on Christmas day, Andy coaxing both of them into a shower, and then into real clothes, and they leave her apartment as the sun is starting to set, catch the train going toward Navy Pier, and brave the cold to walk around beneath the blossoming lights display. Both a good and bad idea, they return with a kicked-up cough shared between them, rattling lungs, rattling ribs, warmed up and smoothed out with tea and buttered toast for dinner. They go back to bed full and content, and sleep off what remains of their sickness. 

The rest of that liminal time before the new year is spent simply, sweetly. They do a deep clean of everything, haul all their laundry down to her complex’s basement, him in a pair of her sweats and his own t-shirt, and her in an old flannel and a pair of his basketball shorts that are only just a little obscene because they’re too tight, you and your slutty waist are trying to kill me, nonsense, no sense. Afterward, when there’s a stack of fresh and folded clothes on her newly made bed, and the apartment smells like lemon and cold air from the window they left cracked, she kisses him again, and again, and again, in the kitchen until they’re both slumping down onto the checkerboard linoleum, sweet want, sweet melt, left panting and giggling in the aftermath. 

And when New Year’s Eve arrives, neither of them make it to midnight, dead to the world in a tangle on her couch, both of them still a little snotty, a little sleep-worn. He wakes up early in the first morning of 1991 with a stiff neck and pins and needles in his foot where he’s pretty sure Sylvia is sleeping. Andy, still asleep, with her leg slung over his and her shoulder tucked in beneath his, and he decides now would be the perfect time to try those words out. So he does, words that have only been offered to Robin, or Eddie when he’s really drunk, for many years. He whispers them like he’s getting away with something, and she doesn’t even stir, and he’s grateful for that as heat blooms and buoys in his chest.

The next time, he’ll say those words a little louder. He’s pretty sure she’ll say them back.

[wheneverfeasible]

cw: slight spoilers for Flight of Icarus

I’m honestly not the biggest fan of kid fics so I don’t think I’d ever actually write this, but…

I was thinking about Eddie’s expired condoms, thought about how in kid fics it’s always Steve who has a kid (or kids), and it got me thinking of a post-S4 AU, maybe a year or so later, and Eddie and Steve are a new couple who have only recently started being an official, exclusive deal. And then Eddie gets a blast from the past.

Slight spoilers in the below paragraph

Now, it could be anyone really from his past, but in my mind I’m thinking specifically of Paige from the Eddie prequel book, Flight of Icarus. It’s been say 3 or 4 years since they split ways and she went back to LA. Meaning, if during one of the times she and Eddie engaged in unsafe sex or sex with expired condoms, it’s feasible to imagine that she could have been unknowingly pregnant when they broke up.

Spoilers over

Now, imagine a social worker showing up at the Munson door because, as crazy as it is, Eddie has a 2-3 year old child suddenly thrust upon him after a tragic accident has taken the mother’s life and as the father listed on the birth certificate, he is the next of kin to take the baby (I picture a little girl, but it could be a boy).

The mother had been Eddie’s first love and, while he’s freaking out, he can’t brings himself to reject the innocent little thing, especially since the mother’s family has moved out of Hawkins following Vecna’s Curse. He knows he should give the baby up to them, but he simply can’t. However, he has Steve to worry about now.

After all, they just started officially dating/going steady. And now Eddie is a dad. He’s worried about it being too much for Steve, who may want kids of his own some day, but now Eddie is a package deal with a child that Steve has no responsibility for, a child that Steve never asked for. Eddie is certain Steve won’t want to be with him now but it’s his child; even though he can’t blame Steve, he’s not going to be like Al Munson and abandon his child.

Of course, Steve is understandably startled and needs to take a moment to consider everything. Ignoring the fact that Eddie has a child isn’t fair to the child itself. If things end poorly (which Steve is wracked with self-doubt and believes Eddie will realize he can do better eventually and leave him) then he doesn’t want to harm a child, and on the off-chance things don’t end poorly, is he ready to be a step-father figure now?

The answer is, of course, yes.

And so Eddie and Steve and the baby (and Wayne, who is absolutely delighted to have what is basically a grandchild though he would never admit it) find themselves in new adventures of being a new family.

For added drama, perhaps the mother’s parents end up finding out about the child being placed with Eddie and decide to sue for custody. In the end, the boys win however, and maybe the baby doesn’t have a mother, but it has two loving dads, a grandpa/great-uncle, and a whole host of uncles and aunts to love it and give it the best life imaginable.

(Robin is, of course, named godmother, and Dustin becomes the godfather.)

And though it wasn’t how they had originally planned it, both Eddie and Steve finally find the family they had always wanted.