#li's masterlist

[billdenbroughsgirl]

♡ MASTERLIST

who i write for ♡

this list will be updated when i make posts, i linked who i write for so no one is confused :) i just don't wanna type out all the characters since i haven't written for most of them yet

♡ IT (stephen king)

♡ bill denbrough

nap time ♡ falling asleep with bill after one of his baseball games

♡ eddie kaspbrak

skin stars ♡ hcs of eddie (& rich) w a freckled reader :)

♡ richie tozier

skin stars ♡ e&r w a freckled reader :)

♡ henry bowers

fluffy relationship hcs ♡ hcs of clingy n fluffy henry !

animal ♡ henry x male!reader smut

[loganlermanstanaccount]

Show me where it hurts (part 2)

Miguel O'Hara x spiderwoman!reader

GIF by aenhanse

(AO3 Mirror), Part 1, Main Masterlist

summary: You confront Miguel.

warnings: breeding kink, cum play, animalistic behaviour (not quite ABO), mutual masturbation, dirty talk, praise and degradation, Miguel eats ass like a fucking champ, general filth etc etc. very very 18+, minors dni (and i will b blocking!) 

a/n: thank you for all the support for part 1! I will say, all the comments about relationship building and stuff do make me laugh a little bc this part is literally just p0rn with a teensy tiny bit of feelings.. but if you follow me this should be pretty standard by now.

wc: 4k ish

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

You let yourself in again, but not until after pounding on the door. 

You think he's home, the scent of something in the air. At first glance, his place is empty, but a mess : cushions ripped off the couch, kitchen ransacked of its contents, floor covered in blankets and clothes. It makes you worry: Miguel is so clean it's scary . He would never leave his place like this. You hear something from his bedroom and rush towards it.

He's there, back turned on the bed. But something's wrong. In sweats and a tank top, he's breathing heavily, clutching at the sheets. 

"You shouldn't be here." He strains. 

Eyes wide, you step closer. Is he in pain? Is he hurt? "Miguel. I just want to help. Did something happen?" 

All he does is shake his head, unable to make eye contact with you. "I c-can't let you… please, bichita. It's not safe for you."

Your heart breaks at his helplessness, you get closer, and perch on the bed next to him. He jumps at the hand you place in his shoulder. Fuck. He's drenched in sweat. 

"Miguel, please. Let me in… I'd do anything. Just let me help."

He groans with his head in his hands. "I know, bichita. That's the problem. I can't let you…"

You look at him properly now. He's writhing on the sheets, tense and unable to sit still. Guiltily, all you can think is how good he looks; pretty even when his hair sticks to the nape of his neck, when he groans lowly at your presence. Your eyes rake down his body, looking for a secret wound, or something he's hiding. When you spot it, you gasp. 

Miguel is rock hard under his sweats. And he is massive. 

It clicks. Ashamed, he makes hesitant eye contact with you. "It's not usually this bad. And it gets worse if I'm near someone I'm…" He breathes. "Someone I'm attracted to."

You can't help but laugh at the absurdity of the statement; of the situation. "I think that's just what erections do, Miggy." 

He rolls his eyes, too annoyed to be as uneasy for a moment. " No , God, I meant my DNA. There's something wrong with me, something animalistic , that makes it ten times worse. I'm going crazy. Smell, taste, touch… and it doesn't just go away. "

You hum. "And what's your hypothesis?" 

He looks at you, a little crazed, but he gets it. If you talk to him like it's one of your status reports, like it's another mission, maybe he can stop thinking about pounding you into the sheets and filling you up with his cum. 

He clears his throat. " You . Gets worse when I t-think about you, or you're near."

You've got a hand on his thigh, rubbing circles that go straight to his head. 

"What makes it feel better?" 

Deep breath. "Touching myself. But I haven't… and I won't-" 

"Why?" You smile like a Cheshire cat. Are you… enjoying this? 

"I can't. You're a friend and it's a violation of your trust."

"It hurts. You're in pain. I give you full permission to give yourself some relief. You can touch yourself, for me. I want you to feel good."

His hips buck up involuntarily. Just thinking about it is driving him crazy. " Mierda. Stop talking like that-" 

"Like what?" You bat your eyelashes. 

"Like that ." He hisses. "Like you want to get fucked."

He squeezes his eyes shut, even more guilty. "I'm sorry. That's not appropriate at all. I shouldn't have… snapped like that."

You rub your legs together: you're fucking soaked. Like this, with his senses going crazy, you don't know if he can smell it, taste it in the air. The thought makes you even wetter. 

You mumble. "Meant it, Miguel. I just want to watch."

Agonisingly slow, you sink to your knees in front of him. He watches, eyes wide, trying not to lean into it. 

"Do you want me to beg? Because I will, if it makes you feel better." 

He grabs his crotch, rocking into his palm. You're breaking him down, bit by bit. 

"I think you like punishing yourself, Miggy. You think you deserve it. How long have you been like this? Weeks, I bet. When all you needed to do was ask me. I would've helped you over the phone if you wanted it. Told you how to stroke your cock, where to put pressure, asked you if it felt good. Think about how good it would feel. The relief. "

You rock on your heel and it doesn't go unnoticed. You light him on fire, and the thought of you getting off only pushes him closer to the edge. "Can I tell you a secret?" You whisper. He nods fervently. "I've always wanted you in my mouth. Just wanted to know what it would feel like; how pretty you'd look when you cum."

It's too much. His back arches, and he groans, spilling into his sweats. Astounded, you look up. So. Much. Cum. You didn't think a person could physically produce so much, but here he is, coating the inside of his boxers with it. Miguel, however, looks embarrassed: his first orgasm in a week and it's spilling into his trousers in front of a pretty girl like a teenager. He groans, covering his flushed face. 

"Can I…?" Your eyes are wide in amazement. Shakily, he nods. 

Is it bad for you to say he looks just like you imagined? Tan, long and with a bit of girth, and under all the cum he seems well-groomed. He's still half hard, which is impressive considering the sheer amount of cum splattered everywhere. Probably, he has the prettiest cock you've ever seen. As you pull down his boxers, your very obvious glee makes him pause. 

"...you like this?" He seems genuinely confused, and it makes you giggle. You've flustered him, yet again. 

Resting a head on his thigh, you look up at him through innocent lashes. Your other hand swipes cum off his tip, making his cock jump. "Could ask you the same. You're still hard." 

"I can't believe…" He mutters. "You're gonna kill me." 

"What do you want, Miguel?" You put a hand on his length, rubbing up and down ever so slightly. "You want to get off?" 

"I want…" It makes him grunt all the same. He goes from wayward glances to looking you straight in the eyes. " You . I want you." 

"How do you want me?" Deceptively innocent, you coax his length back to full mast with your hand. 

How do you want me? There are a thousand thoughts flying through his head, and his brows tense with the weight of them. Head back, he leans into your touch. He doesn't want to scare you, with the way he's been thinking about that question long before you asked: weeks, months, years before now. You see him hesitate, and bite his lip.

Your hands still and he cries out, cursing the loss of warmth. "M'not asking again." A little softer now. "No judgement, Miggy. I just want to help." 

Deep breath. "Anyway I can. Wanna fill you up with my cum. On top. U-Underneath. Mierda. I want your mouth. I want your sweet cunt. I-" 

You silence him with a moan when you envelope his cock with your mouth. You close your eyes in bliss as you bob up and down. Just the tip, teasing , and he's already addicted. With a pop, you separate, pressing sticky kisses and kitten-licks to his shaft and torso. He can't take his eyes off of you: peeking up at him through wispy lashes, licking up his cum. 

Pretty, plump lips smack at his tip obscenely. He can't help but think about how well it suits you; mouth around his cock like something holy.  Precum pours from his slit and you lap it up, chasing his moans. Your own moans vibrate deliciously around him and he wraps a hand in your hair. Finally. You want him to enjoy this, to lean into your head-bobbing, and force your head down onto his dick. You want to feel him in the back of your throat, bullying into the warmth of your mouth and moulding you into the shape of him. 

It starts with a little pressure at the back of your neck, deceptively subtle as he rocks his hips into your face. Making eye contact, you look up and feel your pussy clench around nothing. His eyes are lidded, gorgeous, mouth slightly parted and tongue darting out to wet rosy lips. 

"You want it, hermosa ?" His voice has a different texture to it: deep and wanting and needy. 

As best you can, you nod, humming affirmations around his cock. Oh God, of course you do. You want him; anyway you can, anyway he'll let you, more than he'll ever know. 

He pushes you down, hard, cock hitting the back of your throat like a piston. You gurgle and choke around him, throat tightening in a way that makes him melt. You force yourself deeper, hot tears welling up at the corners of your eyes. Your hands claw at his thighs, nails digging so tight into the fabric you think he might bleed. Winding a hand down to your heat, you press your palm into that sweet spot at your clit and Miguel watches, hungry. 

"Oh fuck , you feel so good. I'm gonna– m-mierda – m'gonna cum."

With a final tug, he pushes you down so your nose brushes at the curly hairs leading down to his cock, spilling into you with vigour. It pours down your throat and you drink it up with pleasure. 

"All gone?" He asks, panting with exertion. In response, you open up your mouth, sticking out your pink tongue so he can inspect it. He stirs when he realises just how cock drunk you are: nary a trace of him left on your tongue.

Slowly, he brings a thumb to your mouth, and watches intently as you swirl it around, and suck on it keenly. The pressure makes him light headed, other hand reaching for your waist to pull you up. And pull you up he does, turning you around so he can take off your suit and have you seated on his lap, where you belong. 

You let him, shrugging off the top half of the suit as he pulls down your zipper. Surprisingly gentle, he traces the slope of your shoulders, and down to your bare ass. He groans. No underwear, because of course , you want to kill him. You want him to die, pussy-whipped and half-hard. He pushes you towards the wall, back pressed flush against him. He drags his fangs across your neck and whispers into the shell of your ear, making your whole body shiver. 

"Once I start," He kneads your ass, grinding his cock against you. You gasp. He's still hard. "M'not gonna be able to stop. And it's not going to be sweet, bichita . You leave now and I won't be angry . I–I'll give you space, whatever you want."

" Miguel," Head back, you moan into his touch, dragging his hand towards your slit, hoping he’ll relieve the pressure at your pussy. "I want it to hurt. I want to feel it tomorrow– fuck– f-feel it when I walk and know it was you . Need it. Need you , please-" 

He bites into your shoulder, and you moan wantonly, back arching into his length. He places your hand on the wall, palms flat. Like the chaser after a burning shot, he soothes haphazard squeezes down your back with his mouth. Hot, messy kisses, as he sinks to his knees. He forces you to hinge at the hip.  Breasts pushed against the cool wall, you gasp when you feel him spread the globes of your ass as he presses his tongue to your hole. He licks the length of your slit, and like a slut, you lean into it. 

"Prettiest cunt I've ever seen, hermosa." He brings his hand to your clit, giving you a wet slap as he watches you shudder. Again, and again, until you cry out. 

" Miguel, fuuuck." 

How has he gone his whole life without hearing you say his name like that? Yet again, he almost cums in his pants, loosely shoved over his aching length. All he can do is watch as your holes flutter and clench around nothing, mesmerised. 

"You'd look even prettier filled with my cum, hmm?" He presses a sticky kiss to your puckered asshole, before easing his tongue inside. One hand holding you open, the other comes to play with your pussy, swirling your wetness around your throbbing clit. 

He tongue-fucks you with fervour, like a man starved: only coming up for air to babble obscenities. 

"Tan bonita, bichita." Slowly, he eases his fingers into your cunt, scissoring them open and shut. He wants to break you apart with only his hands, if you'd let him. "So pretty– fuck. So soft, baby. Beautiful."

You're close and he knows it, fucking yourself on his fingers and face like a bitch in heat. Undeterred, he brings a thumb to your clit pressing down with juust the right amount of pressure. 

"Wanna feel it, hermosa . Can you cum for me? All over my fingers like a good girl, just like that, así de simple."

With the way he paws at your pussy, all you can do is clench around his fingers. He guides you through a shaking, biting orgasm, licking up your cum with a flourish. Even with shaky legs you manage to turn around and pull Miguel up, and he follows eagerly. He looks fucked out already, eyes low and lips swollen with your slick. He motions to strip, stretching his tank top across the expanse of his chest and letting his cock spring free from his sweats. When you move to help him, he stops you, moving your hand from his tank to his solid torso beneath. He wants you to touch him; to feel your soft palm run across his skin, and sink into the warmth of your body. 

One hand at your waist, he presses you against the wall, grinding his cock to your clit. You wrap your arms around his shoulders and they fit like they belong there. Close, impossibly close, and his pupils are blown, wide. It's like he can't decide what he wants to do to you, sharp red eyes darting over your lips, your neck, down to the juncture where you both meet. A paralysis of choice, and all he can do is drink you up in the low light. 

And so, you make a choice for him, lips crashing against his, hand snaking around to guide his cock into your hole. He sinks into you - finally - and you swallow his moans in the aftermath. He's slow to start, eyes screwed shut as he gets used to how tight you are around him. Slowly, he rocks into you, the heat of his palm steady at the crook of your back. 

Miguel opens his eyes, caging you in with his other arm. He's testing the waters, angling his hips to find the spot that makes you tick.

"I didn't-" He breathes. "Didn't think it would be like this." 

You look at him in your haze, brows knitted. 

"I thought that when I finally fucked you, it would be more romantic." He gives you a strained chuckle and warm smile. "This is better in some ways, though." 

"Better , Miggy?" 

"Real." Your cunt flutters around him, and his pace stutters. Not once does he break eye contact, something swirling beneath the surface. "Not in my head. God , that sounds pathetic."

You giggle into the crook of his shoulder. It shouldn't be possible, but his eyes soften even more. And then, his expression changes into something dangerous. 

"I can't do this just once, bichita. You can't give me a taste and then take it away. Es cruel, mi vida."

As if to punctuate his point, you feel his tip slam into that spongy spot in your walls. His strokes become more calculated, punishing and exact, sending waves of pleasure radiating throughout your body. 

"Miguel – fuck– that's not fair- " 

"Can't keep humping my hand como un perro , like a dumb dog, anymore." He brings both his palms to your ass, spreading you apart, and pulling you up onto his dick so your toes barely touch the floor. The slap of your ass against his thighs and heavy balls fill the room, pornographic in nature. 

"Let-" Smack. " Me-"  Smack. " Fill-" Smack. " This-" Smack. " Cunt. " Smack. 

You babble into his ears, affirmations and praise that makes his heart and cock swell. 

'So pretty, Miguel. Yours. All yours." You rake your hands through his hair, harshly tugging him closer in a way that makes him burn up. Clenching around his length, you wrap your legs around his waist. He barely falters, pulling away from the wall and slamming into you regardless. You've seen him like this before; fiery determination that flares up on a tough mission. Tunnel vision: a razor-sharp resolve that has manifested itself in a man hellbent on your pleasure. 

"Miguel. Miguel, I-" I love you, I love you, I love you, I- " -wan' you to cum with me. Deep, please."

Now, his pace gets sloppy, hips stilling to drive himself as deep as you asked; so you can feel him long after you separate. Hot, sticky cum pumps into you and his balls strain with the effort of it. You claw your hand against his back, trailing delicious marks with your nails. When you clamp around him, you swear you see his eyes roll back - lost in the bliss of your cunt. Together, you come down from the high, bare chests panting against one another. 

"Don't look at me like that." His lips graze yours, soft and plush. You stretch your chin upwards, chasing the trace of a kiss he refuses to give to you. Eventually he relents, leaning into a sweet kiss, arm wrapped around your waist. 

He pulls himself off of you with a wet smack, gently carrying you to his bed. He places you in his sheets and you look beautiful, blissful, and fucked out. Cum drips onto your thighs and he feels a pang of possessiveness. His cum. His baby.

Clambering in to spoon you, he can't help but paw at your pussy, using his fingers to stuff his cum back into you, tracing lazy circles on your thigh with his other hand. 

"I'm on birth control, Miggy. So no need to worry." You snuggle into his touch, bare skin against one another. 

"Wasn't worried." He grunts, sounding almost disappointed. You catch his tone, intrigued.

"No harm in trying," You lilt, turning around to place your palms flat on the wide span of his chest. "You wanna fuck a baby into me?" 

Nodding, he groans, head back into the pillow, and you push him onto his back. Pussy throbbing, you straddle his hips; thighs tight around his middle. You can feel him growing harder in the slick of your slit. 

You arch into him, tender hand around his throat. It's a sight he won't forget easily: you on top of him, the gloom of the night tracing the swell of your tits. An angel, all the same. You whisper something into his ear that gives him goosebumps; a full body chill that goes straight to his cock. "My turn, bichito."

~~~

"You never called." Miguel says, laying his head next to yours, after wiping you down with a clean towel. He hands you a spare shirt of his, and you put it on, self-conscious. 

The two of you had fucked well into the night, making good on your promises. His stamina was relentless, pumping load after load into you, pussy-drunk and babbling. There was an intensity there that couldn't be explained: one that made both of you crazy for one another, burning you out between the silky sheets of his bed. Something you had initially attributed to his rut, whatever he had called it, but desperately hoped it was something more. How could this be just sex? After everything you had said and done, it would crush you: to taste the forbidden fruit and have it snatched away just as easily. 

You had both laid there for a bit, afterwards, cock softening in you. Plugging up his cum, he had said, but it felt more intimate in the quiet calm of his bedroom. 

"You didn't either." You throw back at him. 

"That's not th-" 

"I know, I know. It just felt weird, s'all." You turn from him, looking up at the ceiling. Counting the mottles and marks in your head, suddenly shy. After all the filthy things you've said and done to him, he still makes you shy. "I thought I did something wrong."

His heart breaks. "No, no , it wasn't-" 

"Not just today. Last time…a-and the time before that, honestly. We see each other less. You're always busy with something. Felt like you were avoiding me." Rubbing your temples, you sigh. "S'why I cut some corners on the mission. Made mistakes. I thought if I did well, and we had something to talk about…"

"Mierda." You can't bring yourself to look at him, to see the disappointment in his scarlet eyes. But it isn't disappointment, and it’s not directed at you. 

"I wanted to call, but I didn't. Because I didn't think you would answer." Finally, you turn to see his brows knitted: swirling with shame, guilt, sadness. Quickly you add, "I mean, I know why now. I think. And it's really on me, I should've said something or-" 

"I just… I didn't know what to do with it." He takes your hand in his, squeezing tight. 

"...I don't understand."

"All this love I have for you." He says, impossibly soft. "I didn't know what to do with it."

You know him like the back of your hand and you've heard it all: angry, snarky, giddy, beautiful Miguel O'Hara. But this? Confirmation of the feelings you've held for years at this point, dismissed during late nights and pored over during lonely ones - this? 

"And I didn't think you felt the same way, how could you? You're beautiful, and smart, and you have this… way of making people burn as bright as you. So I poured myself into work. That's all I know how to do, bichita. Work. Suffocate under everything. You don't deserve it."

With the way he says it; resigned, matter-of-fact; you want to cry. Still, he hangs on to the notion that he must earn it : that his claws are too sharp and fangs too bloody for redemption. For love, for life, for good things. Miguel O'Hara; doing what needs to be done. Alone, always. 

You come closer to cup his chin, to make sure he's looking at you. There can be no ambiguity, no gray area when you say what you want to say. 

"You don't tell me what to do, O'Hara . " You press a kiss to his cheek, and another to trembling lips. "I decide what I deserve. No-one else does, not even you."

"It's not like you listen to me, anyway." He says with a shaky smile. 

Sitting up slightly on your forearms, you place your head up on his chest. Listening to the steady thump-thump of his heart. You don't need your super senses to know that he's alive, that he's here. The look in his eyes; you couldn't explain it if you wanted to. 

"Bichita." You say, out of the blue. No doubt due to your poor pronunciation, he winces. "What does it mean?" 

Clicking his tongue, he waves it off. " Very vulgar, you don't want to know. I mean, I shouldn't really-"

"Hmm." Shaking your head, you feign ignorance. "It's just that Lyla said it meant sweetheart, or little bug... terms of endearment, I think was the phrase."

"She said that?" He frowns. "Lyla's filling your head with nonsense, m'afraid. It's sarcastic. Post-ironic, metatextual… it comes across completely different in Spanish, mi vida."

"Post-ironic? That's not even the second most pretentious thing you've said today…" Giggling, you bury your head into his chest. 

"Of course not. I reserve my best stuff for you."

"Real classy, O'Hara. Bet you say that to all the poor women that end up in your bed."

"Nope." He hums. "Just the ones I've been in love with for the past two years."

He pulls you closer, smiling into light kisses on your shoulder, the fat of your stomach, your thighs, on your cheek. Kisses everywhere, anywhere he can reach.

"Just you, bichita." He breathes into your skin. "Only you ."

_

_

_

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

[joemama-2]

velvet lies

pairing: gojo x fem reader synopsis: crippling debt and possible evictions have ruined you. working two jobs with no downtime, and a five-year-old son, you really don't know the meaning of taking a break. after continuous questions about his father, you have decided to finally let your son meet his dad. only thing is, he has no idea said son exists. and to top it off, you have not a single clue about what kinds of things will transpire from this sudden revelation. tags/warnings: 18+ MDNI, smut, fluff, romance, alcohol, classism, mom! reader, lying, abuse, MAJOR angst, slow burn, exes to lovers, (mentions of) cheating, scandals, death, blood, drugs, drama, family drama, miscommunication, blackmail, unhealthy coping mechanisms , depression, manipulation a/n: hi everyone! this is where you can find the masterlist

chapter 1: a not so good day

chapter 2: unwanted encounters

chapter 3: family reunion?

chapter 4: revelations

chapter 5: confrontations

chapter 6: old tension

chapter 7: confusing actions

chapter 8: pieces of the past

taglist status: closed

series status: ongoing

𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐃 © 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 joemama-2 — do not copy, translate, repost or modify my works on any platform.

[loversatthegreatdivide]

A Benedict Bridgerton Story

When two second-borns looking for direction meet by chance, can they find purpose in each other? Or will circumstance keep them apart?

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x F!OC

Tropes: mutual pining, fluff, angst with a happy ending, royalty

Warnings: death

Current Word Count: 19k

» Chapter 1

» Chapter 2

» Chapter 3

» Chapter 4

» Chapter 5

» Chapter 6

» Chapter 7

» Chapter 8

» Chapter 9 - Coming Soon

[a-spes]

DEVIOUS LIES — MASTERLIST (30.157 words)

| Summary (anon request) — When your friend asked you out for a drink, you didn't think much about it. Yet, maybe you should've, because that night ruined your life. It may have been two years since the events, but you still can't stop think about what you've lost. Your job, your friends, your lover, and even your mind was left in that motel room. Tags — Natasha Romanoff x Avenger!R, Wanda Maximoff x Avenger!R, Avengers x Avenger!Reader, Angst Without Comfort, Bittersweet.

| Part one. — 3.842 words. Warnings - Cheating, Mental Health Issues, Suicidal Ideations, Self-depreciation.

It is the last time you’ve seen her, and as pitiful as it is, you have long cherished this last contact with the redhead. No matter how violent and hateful it has been, it was still the last time you’ve touched the love of your life, and you missed it the moment she let go of your arm. Her, and her touch. Despite everything, despite the years, you still needed her presence by your side, and it doesn’t matter if your relationship has to be brutal, you are ready to accept anything if it means being close to her for a few more days.

| Part two. — 8.792 words. Warnings - Mentions of Cheating, Mental Health Issues, Suicidal Ideations, Self-depreciation, Mentions of SA&SH, Manipulation, Toxic Relationship&Friendship, Revenge Porn, NC Use of Drugs.

The pictures, the clothes, the gifts, even your favorite cutlery has been burned a few days after you left them. It is almost as if you’ve never stepped a foot into the building, as if you’ve never existed. The woman was fine with the idea of pretending that nothing happened — She was fine with the idea of erasing every remaining part of your relationship.

| Part three. — 8.929 words. Warnings - Mental Health Issues, Suicidal Ideations, Self-deprecation, Depression, Manipulation, Toxic Friendship, Severe Injuries (R), Mentions of Death, No Happy Ending.

“I am a hero,” you whispered in your breath, “and that’s what heroes do,” you added, repeating the sentence once more. You were trying to find a little bravery in this mantra, the one you needed to push your limits a little further.  Yet, all you find in these words is deep despair, because a part of you knows that they are not true — and you are not a hero. Not anymore. You tried to believe Fury’s lies. You wanted to believe them, and deceive yourself because it gave you a bit of hope, a reason to carry on, but the illusion couldn’t last for eternity. What’s a hero when they are hated by the whole world? A villain.

| The scars in our hearts. - 6.279 words. Warnings - Self-doubt, Self-depreciation, Mental Health Issues, Mention of Bad&Unhealthy Copism Mechanisms, Toxic Relationships&Friendships.

It has been almost three years since you came back, and it still wasn’t enough. Sometimes, you think about letting go of that dream of yours, the one that makes you believe that things could still get back to normal, even when nothing was —; but how could you do something like that? How could you possibly think about abandoning them again when they’ve been willing to give you a second chance? You weren’t ready yet to accept that the home you’ve been longing to return didn’t feel like it anymore, at least not without first trying your hardest to make things right. Thus you kept pushing yourself a bit more everyday, at the cost of your health — which seemed a very small price to pay in exchange for the feeling of being at home again.

| This Dream Is Not Feeling Sweet. - 2.315 words. Warnings - Major Character Death (R), Heavy Angst, No Comfort.

" And your story may have ended in a messy way, with blood, and tears, and words that will never be spoken, but the woman realized that she wouldn't have it any other way, cherishing every moment you had shared together. "

[fatalitysficbakery]

𓆰♥︎𓆪 Bad For Me. —

Jordan Li x Black Fem!Y/n

genre: angst (questionable, not there)/fluff/SMUT.

warnings: enemies to lovers, car sex, slight humor, possessive dom!jordan, got your tea bitch sub!y/n.

synopsis: jordan hates your guts or wants to rearrange them. they haven’t decided yet. (yes they have).

↳ 𓆰 Fatalitysficbakery navigation menu 𓆪.

↳ 𓆰 Fatalitysficbakery multifandomed &&’ oc menu #2 𓆪.

❦ ⌫ ❦

She forces her way through the crowds, feeling herself bump into more than one frat boy being obnoxious on the dance floor, when she's finally pushed her way from everyone, her eyes darting around to the bar's seating area, not too many were there on account of the drinks keeping them busied.

She sighs until her attention is taken by a friend waving her over. Fixing the cowboy hat on her head, she makes her way over to them, a gentle smile on her face taking one of the seats next to Emma.

She doesn't notice them at first until she looks up and her smile immediately drops when they wink at her.

"Y/n? Earth to Y/n?" Marie snaps in front of her taking her attention away from the supe.

𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♥︎𓆪𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♥︎𓆪𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♥︎𓆪𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♥︎𓆪𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♥︎𓆪𓆰♡︎

"I'm here, ma. I was...distracted. Far too many frat boys in that crowd."

"You didn't see anything you liked out there?" Emma asked, draping her arm around Y/n and passing her a shot.

Y/n smirks, downing her shot, head leaned against Emma's when she speaks, her eyes close for a second, meeting Emma's the moment they open again, shaking her head, "Nah, sweetheart. Ain't nothing for me on that floor, you know me."

"I do. You're very picky."

"I like it that way."

As she talks, a pair of eyes track her every movement like a hawk's, eyes barely leaving her to scope out the scene, when they do look away, it's like something pulls them right back to her, which was the wildest thing to them in all honesty. They'd disliked the supe the moment they first met. There was something about her that just pissed them off.

"You been awfully quiet, Jor." Cate speaks up, leaning forward to observe their every move. "Shifty eyes too. What's up?"

"I just need a shot. That reason enough?"

"I'll take it. For now."

Jordan's eyes roll, and now they're really trying their hardest not to look over at the witch, she had psychic abilities, they were sure she'd had them pinned the moment they talked, and if she did, she didn't let it on, looking at them curiously for a fraction of a moment that felt like hours in Jordan's eyes, every time her eyes met them it felt like she could see through to their soul, rip them open and dissect every flaw.

"I could...go get us some?" She offers, moving from her spot leaned on Emma, legs crossed one over the other. Cate's eyes break from Jordan knowingly, but no one really says a word, what's understood, after all...

"You stare any harder your eyes will pop out of your skull, kid." Cate pats the poor thing on the shoulder, grin stretching cheek to cheek.

↳

Jordan despises you, they despise your very existence, the way your platinum blonde curls frame your face, making your dark brown skin pop out in a way that could distract God from his toughest battles, your lips full and always glossed, black lipliner a staple combo for you, they'd noticed. They'd noticed a lot about you and that's what they hated. You were insufferable in a way that left their mouth watering for more.

A puzzle they were determined to solve.

When you had come back with the shots, they weren't surprised that you caught somebody's eyes. That's another thing they hated about you, they hated that anybody else could look at you and notice the beauty they'd been trying their damndest not to notice.

When you were about to sit down again, some jock who Jordan noticed had been eyeing you for quite some time comes over, and Jordan wasn't exactly happy about it.

It happened so quick, everyone and no one was surprised when it did.

"I was wondering, if you, pretty thing would like to dance with little ole me?" He had the most infuriating southern accent possible and Jordan's jaw set immediately upon hearing it, stood up before you could utter an sentence in response, their form towering over you now as they look up at the douchebag, blonde with blue eyes and overwhelming steroids abuse.

"Move along, alright?" Jordan has a grin of all things on their face, like this was merely entertainment to them, their arms casually draping across your shoulder as if it was meant to be there.

"I was talking to the lady, Li."

"Yeah? You're talking to me now, Jeremy. You okay with that?"

Throughout this all, Y/n hadn't really uttered word, in complete shock that this was happening, I mean this was the same person that had just called you a nuisance a day prior.

"Man, I don't want a problem."

"So don't make one." Jordan's gaze burns into his soul, jaw clenched and eyes darker than they'd been before, they smile, eyes narrowing further.

Jeremy scoffs, turning to walk back off with his friends.

You just look up at Jordan in disbelief, mouth opened slightly.

𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♥︎𓆪𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♥︎𓆪𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♥︎𓆪𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♥︎𓆪𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♥︎𓆪𓆰♡︎

After that night Jordan was strangely quiet, you hadn't heard a peep out of them since then, no smartass remark, insult, it was complete silence. Though they lingered. Loomed.

It wasn't until you were pulled into an empty classroom, their scent taking up residence in your every sense, it's hard to pin what it reminds you of but you know what it feels like, and it's the most cliche thought you've ever had.

They just stared at you for a moment like they're trying to get a read on you, size you up, you feel exposed, naked as the day you were born despite the sweater she wore.

"You...You make me so unbelievably angry."

"I do? That's what this is? Anger?" You cock your head to the side, a smile threatening to appear on your lips, eyes so deep they drown in them. Jordan hisses, bringing you closer to them, their breath tickling your skin.

"Yeah that's what that is. Anger. We need to talk."

"I agree. Let's."

Jordan hoists you up onto the table, staring you down like it was their job to, before they speak, you beat them to the punch. "That was wild...What you did last weekend at the bar. For you especially. Wanna address it?"

"What? I didn't want him anywhere near you. So?"

"Since when did I become your problem?" You ask, your hands in your lap almost protectively like you were skeptical of how the situation would go, they could pratically smell the nerves on you, and it made them all the more...needy. Like you were the sundae to satiate their sweet tooth, before they knew it, their arm was snaking around your waist tugging you closer to them.

"You became my problem the second you got here, and I can't seem to get rid of you. I don't know what you're doing to me, darlin' but I..."

"You what?"

Their forehead presses against yours, holding you even tighter against them like you'd crumble if they were to let you go, something so fragile that only they could protect it. That's what you were to them. "I need you. Horribly. And it fucking sucks to have to admit it but there's...there's something about your freshie. Something that latches onto me and doesn't let go. Can't you feel it?"

"I always have." You respond coolly, your hand wrapping around their bicep, and it's absolutely far too late to turn back now nor do either of you want to. Neither of you want to ruin this.

"Then the jokes on me, huh Pretty girl?" They chuckle, pushing your legs apart to stand between them, they trap you between their arms their face unbelievably close to yours, "How could I not understand just how badly I needed you, sweetheart? You're something worse than a drug and I think we need to leave before I tear you apart right here right now." Their voice is deep in your ears, something that vibrates within you like a freight train.

There was nothing in their tone to suggest that they weren't completely serious in their quest to drag you off, you could see their self control dwindling before your very eyes and you knew that if it weren't soon, you'd be bent over a desk in some room a poor janitor would have to clean up later.

It's silent for a breath, but their hold on you only grows tighter, possessive like they were afraid of you vanishing.

Their breath kisses your skin, words a soft promise of their undoing.

"My place."

𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♥︎𓆪𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♥︎𓆪𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♥︎𓆪𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♥︎𓆪𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♥︎𓆪𓆰♡︎

It wasn't my fault, I don't know when the lines had become so muddied but having her by my side just felt insanely right to me, her perfume blanketing over me and imbedding every fucking detail of the witch into my psyche so deep I can never seem to get rid of it, and as she sat beside me singing her heart out to the radio, it furthers my obsession, she, my vice, and the neverending subject of my every thought.

She says something but I don't quite hear it, her scent drowns it all out, euphoria washes over me, and I can hear her rambling on about everything and nothing like she's already so comfortable in my presence.

My hand rests on her thigh, and I tune back in just enough to hear her ask me with a knowing smirk on her face like she could see right through me and then some, and I wouldn't be shocked if she could. That was the thing about her, she was always one step ahead and that's what pulled me to her.

"You weren't listening to a damn thing I said were you, Li?" She asked, leaning forward to look at me better, observing me so intensely I could feel myself growing an unbelievably deep shade of red that kinda irritated me. Maybe that's why I disliked her so much at first. She was the first person here to make me feel things I didn't wanna allow myself to ever feel, especially not with the path my life was headed.

It was her that made me wanna break all my rules, and I've always been a control freak. It was annoying to feel her pushing so hard at walls I thought I'd built so indestructibly. -- Now here she was looking at me with that damned smile of hers, staring through me and making me question everything I've ever known.

"I- Yeah, Um nah. I was a little distracted, I admit." I chuckle too nervously for my own liking, one hand on the wheel and the other squeezing the pretty thing's thigh; I always get a hit when she looks at me like I hold the world in the palm of my hands, and I can just feel my throat squeezing shut, my self control something so fragile when I'm near her.

"I see. What's on your mind?"

She asked me what was on my mind, I think that's when it snapped. I knew about this little hideaway, a spot away from the lights and the threat of being seen, and before I even realized it that's where we were, a shaded space away from everything with the woman I'd been fantasizing about for way too damned long for my liking, she was gonna be the fucking death of me if I didn't fix this.

"Cute. You know what's on my mind. Get your ass over here."

𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♥︎𓆪𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♥︎𓆪𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♥︎𓆪𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♥︎𓆪𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♥︎𓆪𓆰♡︎

She was in their lap within a breath or two, the car wasn't particularly spacious but it was enough for the two of them, a mess of desire ripping off each other's clothes with intent, it was almost like something necessary needed for them survive, something akin to oxygen itself.

Their hand reaches up to tug her head back, hands entangled in her curls, forcing her to look into their eyes directly.

"Ride me." The statement was so simple, so effortlessly whispered between them and it didn't...it didn't get to hang in the air too long either, unrequited was something this situation knew nothing of.

Her body was pressed so closely against them it was almost suffocating, her forehead against theirs when she was fully on top of them. Her chest heaves, their breathing and the sound of the music the only thing heard in the car, and it seemed they were determined to be the loudest things there.

They let out a sharp hiss when their cock is finally exposed to the air and it takes not even a moment for her cunt, dripping so shamelessly, to hover over their hardened length, leaving a heat so lethal to wash over them.

They grip their hand around her neck, tugging her even closer, eyes searching hers with an intensity so palpable it could be cut with a knife. Their hands roam over her like they'd been itching to explore her for a while now and god had they ever been. They'd been absolutely thirsting for it.

"Safeword. Let me hear it."

"I don't know, fucking lime?"

She and Jordan look at each other silently, the hand on the clock ticking ahead before both burst into laughter, Jordan's hands gripping her hips tightly within their palms, the way they look at each other intense, heated, and filled with mutual affection for the other party. "Lime? Fucking lime?"

"You asked for a safeword, I panicked!"

"Yeah?" Their finger trails down her neckline, eyes locking on hers, hands moving her hips in time with their thrusts, a low groan tumbling out of their lips, fingers digging into her asscheeks, pulling as close as they could get her. Closer, if possible.

The way her words die out on her lips, their free hand wrapping around her neck, taking in Y/n's scent, they get closer.

"God you're so fucking cute. Look at that, you're speechless for once in your life. No talking back right now, sweetheart?"

"You...I want you to kiss my ass." She responds, but her voice is weakened, an air of vulnerability washing over her. Jordan catches onto it without much effort on their part, one look at the poor thing and it was clear she was nothing more than putty in their hands. Melting right between their fingers.

"You and I both know you can do better than that. You have done better than that...Where's that spark now, doll?"

Their hand reaches down to pinch her clit between their fingers, breath ghosting over their lips, a shit-eating mischievous-looking smirk on their face, they can practically feel her ending begin.

"Speak up, baby. Be loud for me."

Their hips angle for her g-spot, and with a particularly hard push, they feel her clench around them, cock twitching sensitively when she grips them like a vice and she obliges their requests, singing a pretty little song, all for their utter euphoria.

The way her face twists up, eyebrows knitting, and eyes squeezed tight, lips parted to let a scream out, one so desperately needy it sends them over the edge immediately, their seed spilling into the witch and arms grabbing her tighter without any intent to let go.

𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♥︎𓆪𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♥︎𓆪𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♥︎𓆪𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♥︎𓆪𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♥︎𓆪𓆰♡︎

They had to spar the day after, the little witch could feel her limbs aching with every step she'd taken and unfortunately it was only going to get worse; She could see Jordan looking at her with a determination so familiar in their gaze that it made her shiver. She knew she wasn't safe despite what had happened last night.

"Seriously?" She glances at them, narrowing her eyes their way.

"You're not safe because you're sexy, get your ass up."

Y/n silently nods to herself, standing up to get herself prepared, sighing airily, that familiar confident grin shows up on her face. "Fine. Let me beat your ass and shut you the fuck up."

"That shouldn't be so... C'mon, let's go. You're going down, freshie."

𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♥︎𓆪𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♥︎𓆪𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♥︎𓆪𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♥︎𓆪𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♥︎𓆪𓆰♡︎

A/N: happy 21st birthday to me bitchhhh!!!!!!!!!!! here's my lil late lil birthday fic I guess <33.

[lopposting]

Lies of P interviews compilation

[Masterlist]

Mostly just a reference/archive for myself. a lot of cool little anecdotes/clarification from the team, or otherwise interesting details.

Links are in korean/japanese/english.

I will keep updating as I go along! This is a work in progress:

[currently very messy!]

Justin Carnahan (publishing manager) and Neowiz heads: (kor)

https://m.thisisgame.com/webzine/nboard/5/?n=180372

QA (Quality assurance) team interview [thisisgame] (kor)

https://www.thisisgame.com/webzine/nboard/5/?n=177995?n

Art team, art director [thisisgame]: (kor)

https://m.thisisgame.com/webzine/help/nboard/11/?page=8&n=174446

choi pitched pinocchio souls

this is where they mention there was very little left on the cutting room floor

Choi + Core team [thisisgame]: (kor)

https://m.thisisgame.com/webzine/special/nboard/11/?category=2&n=176072

jogging lol

Naver - dir choi, dir Noh (Kor)

https://m.post.naver.com/viewer/postView.naver?volumeNo=32854956&memberNo=49631020

director choi, director park [thisisgame] (kor)

https://m.thisisgame.com/webzine/nboard/263/2522675?n=175190

korea game awards [stream]

choi [gamevu] (kor)

https://m.gamevu.co.kr/news/articleView.html?idxno=21904

choi pitched pinocchio souls :)

4gamer set: (pre-release) (japanese)

[update]

dir noh changyu:

https://www.4gamer.net/games/571/G057139/20221119009/

https://www.gamespark.jp/article/2022/11/20/124601.html

https://www.4gamer.net/games/571/G057139/20221118128/

japan press event (japanese)

https://www.4gamer.net/games/571/G057139/20230904030/

Director Choi interviews (english) (prerelease):

https://www.prankster101.com/articles/interview-with-choi-ji-won-of-lies-of-p/

sportskeeda (ENG)

https://www.sportskeeda.com/esports/i-m-excited-witness-players-react-lies-p-director-ji-won-choi-favorite-moments-player-feedback-pinocchio

fandomwire (ENG)

https://fandomwire.com/heres-why-lies-of-p-felt-easier-than-bloodborne/

the demo was never patched

fandomwire 2 (ENG)

https://fandomwire.com/lies-of-ps-game-director-choi-jiwon-discusses-the/

it was too late to switch to unreal 5

Director Choi interview (post-release):

https://gamerant.com/lies-p-post-launch-interview/

Dorothy cameo was chosen in Summer of 2022.

btw, can someone tell steamy biscuit (I'm pretty sure it was steamy) that the director saw their playthrough

choi rare 2020 interview about the gaming industry (ruliweb users dug this one up because they are (unfortunately) pretty much obsessed with him):

https://www.jobkorea.co.kr/company/1616277/interview/view/?ItvNo=21764&ListNo=21764

also interesting to note, that at this time (2020) there were actually two projects under Round8, one being lies of P and the other I can only imagine was Bless Unleashed.

some background on working at neowiz and round8 studios in the past. interesting knowledge if you are interested in joining the game development industry in south korea or the gaming industry in general.

mentions BTS (again)

says the process is more important than the end result

less on the development side of things, there was another interview mentioning the devs studying cults and cult mentality, especially surrounding laxasia. I thought that was really interesting and I have to dig it up again, unless I just made it up

some notes on the interviews +

some more interviews I remember reading but have to source -

more interesting development note, it looks like the project being pitched was a Fairytale Soulslike. Choi came on board to direct. Choi and other team members pitched the idea of Pinocchio independently.

[prankster101]

Choi thankful to neowiz for allowing them to do a console game (IGN) and that they had a hard time even finding developers to do a console title in korea in the first place. I remember him referencing this a couple of times but I have to sift through some stuff again.

Re: The confusion surrounding Neowiz/Round8/Team Nough. Round8 is a studio currently signed/owned by Neowiz. Looks like there are actually two teams within Round8, one of them being Team Nough, who were responsible for Lies of P.

Re: the amount of people working on Lies of P, other interviews reference starting with thirty people and ending at around 60. The latest interview (near release) mention that they had currently reached 120. (to update)

So what was interesting/confusing to me about the job postings that came out later that year following the success of LoP was why they didn't just pull team members from within the studio or merge [unless they probably already did]. Unless the game that Choi was referencing in 2020 wasn't Bless Unleashed, the other game under Round8 has been in production since LoP has been in production, and has (seemingly) not been released since LoP has been out.

more on the djmax soundtrack:

https://gamerant.com/lies-p-sound-design-puppets-interview/

they worked on getting a bandoneon, not an accordion, even though it was hard to find, because it was period-accurate.

https://gamerant.com/lies-p-audio-design-djmax-bandoneon/

there is another korean interview somewhere where he mentions having to ask Neowiz for the rights to use the djmax soundtrack. I gotta dig around for it

korea game awards win:

inven win

https://m.inven.co.kr/webzine/wznews.php?idx=290442&hotnews=2&site=console&iskin=console

NAVGTR win:

https://www.kukinews.com/article/view/kuk202402280213#_wider

neowiz stock rising:

https://biz.sbs.co.kr/amp/article/20000156888

https://www.thelec.kr/news/articleView.html?idxno=25468

Lies of P having a remarkable effect on the stock

Jason park and studio 8 and the console market in korea:

https://koreajoongangdaily.joins.com/2022/11/17/business/tech/Korea-GStar-2022-Neowiz/20221117175024136.html#google_vignette

namu news

https://namu.news/article/2013434

gamescom win (to be very honest i have always been perplexed by this because the game wasn't out yet??) KOR

https://m.thisisgame.com/webzine/news/nboard/4/?utm_source=naver?utm_source&utm_medium=outlink&utm_campaign=thisisgame&utm_content=93273&fbclid=IwAR1CwMMoA3mKm_k2SgM3AOe5iK046AUl8olN7WSg5CT6MDz5BJEaF9VT050&page=69&n=156755

misc

https://www.gameinsight.co.kr/news/articleView.html?idxno=25231

[bloodbrown]

Find all my P Stuff! (Masterlist)

(As of 6/8/24)

Full Headcanon Posts

P x Reader

Protective P x Reader

P Being Afraid of Hurting You

How P Shows Affection

Full Humanity P Headcanons

Mostly Silent P Headcanons

Bratty/Selfish P Headcanons

P With a Sweet Tooth Lover

Cuddling With P

P Showing You His Heart

P Seeing You Cry

Distinct Ways P Shows His Love

Shorter Stuff

P Loves Human Heartbeats

Playing With P's Hair

Loving P After Carlo's Death

P Having His Hair Ruffled

How P Communicates

P Smiling For the First Time

P Experiencing Pain

Seeing P Shirtless

P is a Special Puppet

Head Bonk

Kissing P

P Adoring How Human His Lover Is

First Kiss With P

Sad P

P Collecting Stuff He Finds

Mischievous Puppet P

Kissing P, AGAIN

Touch-starved P

P Experiencing Anxiety

Cuddling with P, AGAIN

Puppet Awkwardness

Telling P That You Like His Appearance

P Fascinated By Human Blood

Post-game Angst

Making P Shy

P Making You Shy

P Making Observations

P Becoming Warm and Human

[poisonedprose]

.𖥔 ݁ ˖🕷. KINKTOBER '23 — ❝ THIS IS HALLOWEEN ❞

OCT 07. EAT ME UP! — L. KENNEDY

oral fixation ; leon would spend the rest of his life buried between your thighs if he could.

OCT 14. PURRING PERFECTION — E. WILLIAMS

hybrid sex ; ellie helps you when you're more than desperate during your first ever heat

OCT 21. LITTLE LAMB — S. RILEY

corruption + dumbification kink ; simon loves how innocent you are but he loves corrupting that innocence even more.

OCT 28. AIN'T IT FUN? — M. WHEELER

mutual masturbation ; mike always takes pleasure in watching you get yourself off.

OCT 31. JUST A LITTLE BIT COLDER — M. AGUNI

age gap + size kink ; aguni was impressed by your skill, especially for your age, but what he was more impressed with was your small body.

[kalmiaphlox]

Till Lies Break Our Hearts Masterlist

Kalmiaphlox - Ao3

Master-Masterlist

Summary:

I am Astarion Szarr. Who I was before is dead and gone. Don't talk too much. Don't smile with your teeth. Don't be you. - A vampire spawn subservient to his master's will, Astarion is forcefully married off to the Zau'viir's, a reclusive noble family living on the outskirts of Baldur's Gate. Expecting a cold reception as a sacrificial lamb, Astarion is stunned to find a household filled with laughter and warmth from everyone - except his new wife. How is he supposed to bend her to his side when she holds him at a distance? Cazador expects a steady flow of family secrets, but Astarion is realizing that the mines beneath the Zau'viir manor are shallow compared to what this family is hiding. Arranged Marriage AU set before BG3's events.

Pairing: Astarion x Named Tav/OFC

Rating: Mature, but may change to Explicit

Main Tags: Arranged Marriage, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Vampires, Drow Culture, Family Secrets, Angst, Trauma, Eventual Romance, Enemies to Lovers, Pre-Canon

Chapter 1: Bound Together

Chapter 2: In-Laws

Chapter 3: First Look

Chapter 4: So Below

Chapter 5: A Family Affair

Chapter 6: Burnt Out

Chapter 7: A New Experience

Chapter 8: Drunk On A Rhythm

Chapter 9: A Feast For All

Chapter 10: Drain You Of The Mourning

Shortfics:

Damn, this is what it feels like to be you? - Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3

I really like her face, OK?

Hircine by @/amalhin

Hircine by @/nikadraws

Hircine by @/goromimii

Hircine by @/niye481

[sofiahchan]

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 – 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐃𝐄𝐄𝐏𝐒𝐏𝐀𝐂𝐄

RAFAYEL

cooking with you – fluff

going on a date with you – fluff

happy birthday – fluff

reacting to you in labour – fluff

family – fluff

early morning snuggles – fluff

your daughter introducing her boyfriend to you and him – fluff

XAVIER

cooking with you – fluff

going on a date with you – fluff

reacting to you in labour – fluff

early morning snuggles – fluff

your daughter introducing her boyfriend to you and him – fluff

ZAYNE

cooking with you – fluff

going on a date with you – fluff

reacting to you in labour – fluff

early morning snuggles – fluff

your daughter introducing her boyfriend to you and him – fluff

SYLUS

period cramps – fluff

your daughter introducing here boyfriend to you and him – fluff

[hunzzzzz]

Tell me sweet little lies: part 6

Summary: During a tense weekend in the Hamptons, Diane's pursuit of a story involving Kendall Roy takes a turn. Diane's journalistic detachment wavers, replaced by growing empathy. The escalating emotions of the weekend threaten to overwhelm her.

TW: smut on the beach, face sitting, vaginal fingering, oral (fem receiving), multiple orgasms, overstimulation

A/N: oooohh Kendall is so baby girl, I just want to give him a big hug

🦋🐟🐬🐠🧢🐳🩵👕🖌️🛋️🫂🎽🐋💦🌊💧🧊🪼🫐

Kendall watched Diane shift restlessly beside him, the moonlight from the window painting her face in stark contrasts of light and shadow. "Can't sleep?" he asked, his voice a low murmur.

"Nope," she yawned, her eyes wide and dark. "You?"

He turned onto his back, staring up at the ceiling. "Same here. Just… a lot on my mind."

Diane turned to face him, her brow furrowed slightly. "What is it?"

He sighed, a sound heavy with the weight of years. "Oh, you know. Just ever shitty thing that's happened since I can remember."

Diane's lips curved into a small, sympathetic smile. "Yeah, like what?"

"Like the time when I was 7, I got a dog for my birthday. A little golden retriever puppy I named Scout. I was obsessed with him. He was my best friend, the only thing in my life that felt genuinely mine, unconditionally loving. One afternoon, I was walking him in the park, and I let him off the leash for just a second. He ran off, chasing a squirrel. I searched for hours, called his name until my voice was hoarse. I never found him. My parents didn't care. They just said, 'It's just a dog,' and got me a new one a few weeks later— but it wasn’t the same. Nothing could ever replace Scout; he was precious."

"Or sparring with my dad… he used to make me box with him, at the ripe age of, what, 10? 11? He’d put on these old, worn-out gloves, and tell me to ‘toughen up.’ He wouldn’t hold back. Not really. He’d hit me hard enough to bruise, sometimes. One time, he knocked me down, and I remember just lying there on the floor, staring up at him. He just stood over me, saying ‘You're not hurt. Get up.’ It wasn’t about teaching me to defend myself. It was about… proving something. To himself, I guess. That he was strong. That I was weak. That I was his to break." He ran a hand through his hair, a flicker of pain crossing his features. 

Diane's eyes widened, a genuine sympathy in their depths. "Oh Kendall, that's… awful."

A bitter chuckle escaped Kendall's lips. "Oh, and how could I ever forget the custody battle… they lined us up, me, Shiv, and Rome, and picked us, one by one, like we were being auctioned off. I was the last one left. The 'leftover.' My mom was so mortified—more by the optics, I think, than by my actual feelings—that she renegotiated the whole thing just to avoid taking me." He shook his head, the memory still sharp after all these years.

“I’m sorry, Kendall.” Diane whispered.

"That's just the tip of the iceberg," he said, his voice flat, almost devoid of emotion. "When I was thirteen, my first girlfriend admitted she only dated me to climb the social ladder. Dumped me the second she realized I wasn't going to get her into the 'in' crowd. It wasn't even personal, really. I was just a means to an end." He shrugged, but the gesture didn't quite mask the lingering hurt. 

"And then, a few years later, my grandfather, who was like a father to me—the only father I ever truly knew—got sick. I spent months visiting him in the hospital, watching him fade away. The day he died, I was supposed to give a presentation in class. I went anyway, thinking I could compartmentalize. I got halfway through, broke down in front of everyone, and ran out of the room. I never finished the presentation. I never even went back to that class."

"But you learned from it, right?" Diane said softly, reaching out to touch his arm. Her fingers were cool against his skin. “You wouldn’t be who you are today if you didn’t get such tough skin from all of that, right?”

Kendall gave a wry, humorless smile. "I learned that some people are users. I learned that even hard work can lead to disaster. I learned that grief can hit you at the most inconvenient times. I learned that my own father saw me as something to conquer, not to nurture. And that sometimes, even your own mother can’t bear to look at you. I don't think a kid needs to learn all that. I should have been worried about algebra, not social manipulation and the casual cruelty of the people who were supposed to protect me." He looked at Diane, his eyes searching, pleading for understanding. "Sorry, I'm rambling."

"No," she said quickly, her voice barely above a whisper. "I… I like listening to you." She pulled her hand back, tucking it under the covers. In the dim light, Kendall couldn't see the way her fingers were twisting the fabric of the sheet.

"What about you?" he asked gently. "What's keeping you up?"

Diane hesitated, her heart pounding against her ribs. The image of the box, the tape, the crimson stain on the rough cloth, the file , flashed through her mind. I killed him. It was an accident. The words echoed in her head, a chilling mantra. She swallowed hard, forcing them back down. She glanced at Kendall, at the genuine concern in his eyes, and a wave of guilt washed over her.

"Just… a light sleeper." she mumbled, avoiding his gaze. She pulled the covers up to her chin, as if trying to shield herself from his questions. It wasn't a lie, not entirely, but the truth was buried beneath layers of fear and desperation.

"Oh, shit my bad. I’m sorry for waking you, I uh, I sometimes get night terrors.” He muttered an apology, feeling guilty. 

“It’s okay,” she whispered, “I was just worried about you.”

“Don't let me keep you up. You need your precious beauty sleep.” He gently brushed her hair away from her forehead, his touch lingering.

When Kendall looked at Diane, a feeling bloomed in his chest, unfamiliar and potent. Was it love? A terrifying, exhilarating possibility. He’d never known it, not from Logan Roy, a man whose billions couldn’t buy him an ounce of paternal warmth. Logan’s affection was transactional, reserved for business deals and power plays, never for his children. 

And his mother, Caroline… Caroline was a ghost in his life, a beautiful, brittle creature more concerned with her social standing than her offspring. She’d never breastfed her children, couldn't be bothered with the messy, intimate act of nurturing. From the moment they were born, they were handed off to a rotating cast of nannies and maids, their cries and needs a mere inconvenience to her perfectly manicured existence.

He’d spent his life chasing his parents’ approval, believing achievement would unlock their love. He’d excelled in school, captained the lacrosse team, pursued every venture his father suggested, hoping to finally earn a flicker of recognition, a word of praise. But their indifference had become a constant hum in the background of his life, a confirmation of his inherent unworthiness. Their eyes, when they did fall on him, held a chilling emptiness, as if they were looking through him, not at him. After the divorce, Caroline had all but vanished, choosing to settle for sprawling estates and lucrative investments rather than fight for custody. Land and property held more value to her than her own children. It was a stark, brutal message: they were disposable.

Even his marriage to Rava, a logical, expected step, had lacked a spark. It was a union born of societal pressure and a desperate attempt to create a semblance of normalcy, not love. Fatherhood, too, had failed to fill the void, overshadowed by Logan’s dismissive attitude towards his grandchildren, treating them as pawns in his ongoing power games.

Then there was Diane. At first, a welcome distraction, a brief respite from the crushing weight of his family’s legacy. Now… something more. She didn’t demand perfection or offer conditional acceptance like his family. Their shared experiences of childhood pain, though different in their specifics, resonated deeply. They understood the unspoken language of neglect, the constant ache of feeling unseen. Unlike Rava, who tried to mold him into a version of himself she found acceptable, Diane simply listened . She saw him, the real him, with all his flaws and insecurities. With Rava, he’d always worn a mask, playing the role of the successful husband and father, a performance he could never quite perfect, especially with his father’s critical gaze always in his mind.

Diane had found him in the depths of despair. The night they met, he was a wreck, a monument to self-destruction, lost in a haze of expensive whiskey, crushed pills, and a self-loathing that gnawed at him from the inside out. He’d been on the verge of oblivion, teetering on the precipice of something dark and irreversible. But instead of recoiling like everyone else—the concerned glances that quickly turned to averted eyes, the hushed whispers of “poor Kendall,” the thinly veiled disgust—she’d offered a brief respite from his agony. 

And it wasn't just that one night. It was the weeks that followed, the slow, agonizing unraveling of Vaulter, the public humiliation, the feeling of utter failure that threatened to consume him. He’d expected her to disappear, to join the chorus of disappointed voices, to add her name to the long list of people who had abandoned him. But she didn't. When he was down in the dumps, curled up in the fetal position on his couch, reeking of stale liquor and despair, she stayed. She didn't try to fix him, didn't offer empty platitudes or unsolicited advice. She simply sat with him, a silent presence in his storm. She offered comfort in small gestures: a hand on his shoulder, a gentle stroke of his hair, a massage; her touch was a welcome distraction—only she could make him feel good..

He’d never known such kindness, such unwavering acceptance. His past relationships had been built on performance, on the expectation that he would always be the strong one, the successful one, the one who had it all together. With Diane, there were no expectations, no masks to maintain. He could be his broken, flawed self, and she wouldn't flinch.

Kendall was falling in love, a sensation entirely new to him, a terrifying and exhilarating freefall. He’d never known such a profound connection, such a deep and abiding affection. The love he’d witnessed had always been conditional, transactional, a tool for manipulation or a means to an end. He’d always doubted his capacity for love, his worthiness of it, convinced that he was incapable of giving or receiving such a pure and vulnerable emotion. Yet, here he was, feeling it for the first time.

And he would do anything to keep this woman in his life. The feeling he felt was aggressive and fraught— he wanted her with panic and passion. 

————————————————————————-

Kendall woke up in the predawn hours, sleep eluding him. He watched Diane, her peaceful form curled away from him. A surge of affection washed over him, and he pulled her closer, his arms wrapping around her protectively. Soon, he was lulled back to sleep by the warmth of her body.

The first slivers of dawn pierced the curtains, painting the room in shades of grey. Diane stirred, her eyes snapping open. She was trapped, a prisoner in Kendall’s suffocating embrace. His grip was a vise. “Morning,” he mumbled, his voice thick with sleep, a low rumble against her ear.

“Let me up,” she said, a tremor in her voice as she tried to subtly pry his fingers loose.

“You’re so warm,” he protested, his hold tightening, a possessive edge creeping into his tone. “What’s the rush?”

Panic flared in Diane’s chest. Under her pillow, hidden from view, lay the box– the box containing the evidence. She had to move it, now. Before he saw. “I just… I like to start my day early,” she stammered, forcing a lightness into her voice, desperately trying to coax him out of bed, away from the pillow.

“Five more minutes,” he groaned, pulling her even closer, his breath hot on her neck.

“You’re such a diva,” she teased, a brittle laugh escaping her lips. Inside, her mind raced, calculating, strategizing. The seconds ticked by like hammer blows.

Kendall held her captive for what felt like an eternity, a suffocating closeness that made her skin crawl. Finally, with a sigh of exaggerated reluctance, he relented, but only after she promised him a “special present” and whispered promises of making him “feel good” after his shower – a promise that tasted like ash in her mouth.

The moment he was out of sight, the bathroom door clicking shut, Diane lunged for the pillow. Her fingers closed around the box, cold and hard in her trembling hand. She shoved it deep into her bag. A wave of nausea washed over her. This trip. This charade. It was all about uncovering the truth behind the cruise scandal, a truth buried deep beneath layers of lies and deceit. The stakes were higher than she’d ever imagined. This information was crucial, not just for her article, but for something much bigger. She took a shaky breath, steeling her resolve. No matter the cost.

When Kendall emerged, freshly showered and radiating an oblivious charm, Diane was already in the kitchen, forcing herself to appear calm and collected.

“I was promised a reward?” Kendall announced, a playful grin spreading across his face. 

“Yes, you were,” Diane replied, a smirk playing on her lips. She slid a mug of steaming coffee towards him across the counter. “I made you coffee.” Of course, she knew he was expecting something more than coffee.

“You played me,” he pouted, his playful tone not quite masking a hint of disappointment.

“I never specified anything,” she giggled, her tone light and teasing.

“Maybe you just need some energy,” he suggested, his eyes twinkling with a playful light. He took a sip of the coffee, then set the mug down with a decisive clink. “Let’s go out for breakfast.”

It was the last thing she wanted. Every fiber of her being screamed at her to flee, to return home with the file and the box, to dissect every piece of evidence, to finally break this story wide open. The need for a breakthrough was a burning obsession. But she couldn’t. Not yet. She forced a smile, a mask of compliance. 

“Sure,” she agreed, her voice light and airy. She knew she had to play along, at least for now.

—————————————————————————

“Where are we going?” Diane asked, watching the blossoming trees blur past the window. She rolled it down, welcoming the spring breeze that tousled her hair, a fleeting moment of normalcy in the tense undercurrent between them.

Breakfast had been a strained affair. Kendall, clearly exhausted from a restless night, yawned incessantly, a stark contrast to his usual vibrant self. He pushed through it, though, his gaze fixed on Diane, as if her mere presence could ward off his fatigue. Spending time with her was paramount.

“It’s a surprise,” Kendall said, glancing at her, a look of almost unsettling adoration in his eyes. “But I think you’ll like it.”

“How do you know that?” she asked, a flicker of suspicion igniting within her.

“Well,” he began, a mischievous glint in his eye, “your horoscope said you were going to have a day full of nostalgia and adventures. It said you’d spend it with a special someone.” He winked, the gesture feeling strangely heavy.

“Bullshit,” she retorted, rolling her eyes. “You’re winding me up. Ha ha.” The laugh felt forced, brittle.

“I’m not,” he insisted earnestly. “That’s what it said on Elle, swear on my life.”

“But you don’t even believe in that stuff,” she said, narrowing her eyes, trying to decipher if this was some elaborate joke, or something far more unsettling.

“Yeah, but you do, so it doesn’t matter what I think,” he replied, taking her hand, his fingers intertwining with hers, resting their joined hands in her lap. The casual intimacy felt like a violation.

“You’re creeping me out now, seriously,” she rolled her eyes. “What is this secret location you’re taking me to?” 

The unease wasn’t just about the mystery destination. It was about his sudden, intense focus on her, the way he seemed to be cataloging her every like and dislike. It was a dangerous game he was playing, a slippery slope that would inevitably lead to probing questions, intimate inquiries that she couldn’t afford.

Diane was always on edge around Kendall, a constant state of vigilance. She could never let her guard down, every word carefully weighed, every action meticulously planned. The risk of her cover being blown was a constant, suffocating pressure. The strain was taking its toll, a stark contrast to the easy comfort Kendall seemed to radiate in her presence. He was free, open, while she was trapped in a cage of her own making.

“Relax, you’re so tense,” he said, squeezing her hand again, oblivious to her inner turmoil. “You’re gonna love it.”

“Mhmm,” Diane mumbled, offering a weak, uneasy smile.

Finally, Kendall parked the car. He climbed out, then rounded the vehicle, opening Diane’s door, offering his hand to help her out. As the building came into view, her breath caught in her throat. It was an aquarium. A genuine smile touched her lips.

“I know your Pisces quirks,” he smirked, a smug satisfaction in his voice, pulling her towards the entrance. “You love water.” The casual observation, the way he’d filed away this small detail about her, sent another wave of unease through her. This wasn’t just a date. It was something else. Something she couldn’t quite define, but it felt like a trap closing around her.

The aquarium was a kaleidoscope of blues and greens, a mesmerizing underwater world teeming with life. Diane was captivated. Schools of shimmering fish darted past coral reefs, rays glided effortlessly through the water, and majestic sharks patrolled their domain. For a brief, precious moment, she forgot about the box, the lies, the constant vigilance. She was simply Diane, a woman enjoying the wonders of the ocean.

They watched playful sea otters tumble over each other, their sleek bodies twirling in the water. They stood mesmerized by the graceful ballet of jellyfish, their translucent forms pulsating with an ethereal glow. They even braved the touch tank, Diane hesitantly reaching out to stroke the rough skin of a starfish. Laughter bubbled up from her, genuine and unrestrained, a sound Kendall drank in like a man parched in a desert.

But the idyllic atmosphere began to shift as Kendall’s curiosity, previously charming, turned into something more intense. He started asking questions, probing beneath the surface, wanting to know the real Diane, the woman hidden behind the carefully constructed façade.

“What’s your favorite exhibit so far?” he asked, his eyes fixed on her, searching.

“Probably the beluga whales,” she replied, her gaze still on the massive white creatures swimming in their tank. “They’re so intelligent.”

“Like you,” he murmured, then, more pointedly, “So uh, what do you do for fun? You love the water, I know that much, but what else?”

The question hung in the air, the lightheartedness of the moment dissipating. Diane hesitated. “I… I don’t really have much time for fun,” she said, a half-truth slipping past her lips. “Work keeps me pretty busy.”

“You’re always working,” he observed, a hint of concern in his voice. “Don’t you have any friends? People you hang out with?”

“Not really,” Diane paused, considering her response. “I mean, I have friends,” she corrected herself, a slight catch in her throat. “I do. But I… I just don’t have time for them. I can’t explain it. When I’m with them, all I’m thinking about is the next project at work. I’m there, but not really there. Work alway has and will be my number one priority.”

It was the truth. Diane’s work ethic was relentless, bordering on obsessive. Late nights in the office were the norm, not the exception. She refused to leave until she was satisfied, driven by an internal engine that never seemed to run out of fuel.

This drive stemmed from her upbringing. Raised by hard working parents, she had learned the value of perseverance and dedication from a young age. Both her mother and father had worked tirelessly to provide her with the best life possible. Her mother, a dedicated nurse, often picked up extra shifts around holidays like her birthday and Christmas, sacrificing precious time to afford her the most luxurious gifts. Her father, a hardworking businessman who ran a small advertising company, had saved every penny from the day she was born to fund her college education. “You’re destined for greatness,” he would often tell her, instilling in her a deep belief in her own potential.

Driven by a potent mix of ambition and gratitude, Diane had excelled in her studies. Her near-perfect GPA had opened doors, leading her to a successful career in journalism. She poured her heart and soul into her work, striving for excellence in everything she did. This relentless drive was the reason she was so immersed in this current article, the cruise scandal. She had been promised a promotion, a reward she could almost taste. But beneath the professional ambition lay a deeper motivation: to make her parents proud. She wanted to show them that their sacrifices, their tireless efforts, hadn’t been in vain. She had to.

Kendall’s expression clouded slightly. “That’s… kind of sad,” he said softly. “Everyone needs someone.”

“My parents— my mom, she sacrificed everything for me,” she said, her voice softening. “That’s why I work so hard. I can’t let her down.”

“So that’s what drives you?” Kendall asked, his voice gentle. “The need to make them proud?”

“Yeah,” she said, nodding slowly. “I guess it is.”

The conversation had taken a decidedly personal turn. Diane felt exposed, vulnerable. She had revealed more than she intended, offering glimpses into her past, half-truths woven with genuine emotion. Kendall, on the other hand, seemed satisfied, a small smile playing on his lips. He had learned something new about her, something he thought brought them closer. But for Diane, it was a dangerous game, a tightrope walk between truth and deception, and she knew she couldn’t keep it up forever.

“I… I can relate to that, Diane,” Kendall said, his voice a low, gravelly murmur. “My dad… I was never good enough for him. Still amn’t.” He looked away, his gaze lost in the swirling water of a nearby tank, as if re-living a painful memory. “I spent my whole life trying to make him proud. But I always fail. Every single time.”

He recounted a harrowing memory, his voice laced with bitterness. “Even after he had the stroke… I went to see him once he woke up. He could barely speak, but he still managed to call me a ‘fucking moron.’ Even on his deathbed, he couldn’t bring himself to say he was proud.” A shudder ran through him. “I’m terrified,” he confessed, his voice barely a whisper. “Terrified that his dying words will be that I’m a failure.”

The raw emotion in his voice was unsettling. Diane, ever the opportunist, saw a chance to delve deeper, to gather more information about Logan Roy, the man behind the monster. This wasn't about genuine empathy; it was about the story, the information she desperately needed.

“Why?” she asked, her voice soft, feigning concern. “Why did you let him treat you like that?”

Kendall hesitated, a flicker of pain crossing his face. He looked at Diane, his eyes filled with a deep, almost desperate need for understanding. “He’s holding some shit over my head, to control me,” he admitted, his voice strained. 

Diane’s pulse quickened. This was it. This was the opening she’d been waiting for. His confession he murmured in his sleep last night: “I killed him. It was an accident.” 

“What is it?” she pressed gently, her voice laced with feigned sympathy. She had to tread carefully; pushing too hard would raise suspicion.

Kendall looked away again, his expression a mixture of shame and fear. He remained silent for a long moment, the only sound the gentle hum of the aquarium’s filtration system. The tension in the air was palpable.

Finally, he spoke, his voice barely a whisper. “I can’t… It’s nothing… never mind,” he said, shaking his head slowly. 

She softened her expression, placing a gentle hand on his arm.

Diane pressed further, her mind racing, trying to find a new angle to extract the information she craved. She remembered Kendall’s restless night, his night terror. “Was that what your nightmare was about last night?” she asked, her voice soft and concerned, tilting her head slightly. “Your dad?”

Kendall flinched, a visible ripple of discomfort passing over his face. He looked away, his gaze darting around the aquarium, landing on nothing in particular. The playful sea otters, the graceful jellyfish, the imposing sharks – none of it seemed to register. He was lost in his own private world of pain and fear.

He hesitated for a long moment, then shook his head slowly. “No,” he mumbled, his voice barely audible. “It wasn’t about him.”

The curt response hung in the air, a clear signal that the subject was closed. Diane could see the shutters coming down, the walls rising back up around him. He wasn’t going to offer any more information, not willingly.

She tried a different tack, softening her tone, feigning a casual interest. “Nightmares can be so strange,” she said, forcing a light chuckle. “Sometimes they’re just random images and feelings, not really about anything specific.”

Kendall remained silent, his gaze fixed on the swirling water of a nearby tank. He didn’t respond, didn’t offer any further explanation. The silence stretched between them, heavy and uncomfortable.

Kendall abruptly changed the topic, the shift in his mood almost jarring. “Let’s go play with the penguins,” he announced, a forced lightness in his voice. He reached for Diane’s hand, his fingers intertwining with hers, and began walking briskly in their direction, as if trying to outpace the heavy emotions that had just hung between them.

As they walked, Diane’s mind replayed everything Kendall had just revealed. A strange feeling stirred within her, something she hadn’t anticipated. A flicker of… empathy? It was an unwelcome sensation, a crack in the carefully constructed wall she had built around herself. Kendall, the man she had pegged as powerful, perhaps even villainous, suddenly appeared different. He seemed like a little boy trapped in a man’s body, a broken soul struggling beneath a surface of wealth and privilege.

She saw him now, not as the entitled heir she had imagined, but as a victim of circumstance. He was trapped under the oppressive weight of his father, unable to break free. The image of the spoiled rich bachelor began to crumble, replaced by a more nuanced, complex picture. Perhaps his behavior, his flaws, were a direct result of his upbringing, of the tyrannical figure that loomed over his life.

Diane was slowly peeling back his layers, uncovering the pain and hurt he carried deep within. A father who was a tyrant, wielding his power like a weapon. His mother hadn’t just left; she had abandoned them. Abandoned him and his siblings in the midst of a bitter divorce, choosing material possessions, property, over her own children. A brother who had betrayed him, a wound that cut deeper than any physical injury. It was a devastating combination, a recipe for deep-seated trauma. The image of a villain that she had expected dissolved completely, replaced by the stark reality of a deeply wounded child.

Kendall hadn’t just been through a “terrible childhood”; he had endured a series of profound betrayals, wounds that had clearly never healed. It wasn’t just about being rich and privileged; it was about the absence of love, the lack of emotional support, the deep-seated feeling of being unwanted.

The penguins, with their comical waddle and playful antics, provided a temporary distraction. Diane was genuinely delighted by their antics, she pointed out their individual quirks, laughing as they slipped and slid on the ice. Kendall found himself smiling, drawn in by her infectious enthusiasm, his earlier melancholy momentarily forgotten.

But even as Diane laughed alongside him, the feeling of empathy lingered. It was a disconcerting sensation, one she struggled to reconcile with her mission. She was supposed to be objective, focused on the story, not emotionally invested in the subject. Yet, she couldn’t deny the shift in her perception of Kendall. He was no longer just a source of information, a pawn– but he was also a victim. 

The game had changed. It wasn't just about getting the story anymore; it was about something much more complicated, something she couldn't quite define.

—————————————————————————-

The afternoon was a promise of summer, a taste of the warmth to come. The Hamptons air, still carrying a hint of spring’s crispness, held the faintest whisper of salt and blooming beach roses. The sky, a brilliant, almost blinding blue, stretched endlessly overhead, the sun a benevolent presence warming their skin. From her perch on the yacht, Diane’s gaze swept across the scene: the coastline, a gentle curve of sand dunes and swaying beach grass, punctuated by the stately homes that lined the shore, their weathered shingles gleaming in the sunlight. The water, a vibrant turquoise, shimmered and danced, reflecting the sun’s rays like a thousand tiny diamonds. A few early sailboats, their white sails billowing in the gentle breeze, dotted the horizon, harbingers of the summer fleet soon to arrive.

Kendall, however, remained oblivious to the beauty surrounding him, lost in a deep, much-needed slumber. He was sprawled across a cushioned sunbed, his face turned towards the sun, absorbing its warmth like a cat basking in a sunbeam. He’d been wound tight all morning, a restless energy simmering beneath his usually controlled exterior, but the gentle rocking of the yacht and the warmth of the afternoon had finally coaxed him into a state of rare tranquility. His head rested comfortably on Diane’s bare thighs, his dark hair tousled, a shadow of stubble darkening his jaw.

Diane, seated on the edge of the sunbed, a well-worn paperback resting open in her lap, sipped her Prosecco, the tiny bubbles a pleasant tickle against her lips. The sun warmed her skin, but she was mindful of Kendall’s fair complexion. Every so often, she’d squeeze a generous dollop of high-SPF sunscreen onto her hand and gently rub it into his exposed back, her touch light and careful, avoiding the faint scars that marred his skin – she wondered how he got them, was his father so cruel?

He stirred in his sleep, a soft murmur escaping his lips. “Mmm… thanks,” he mumbled, his voice thick with sleep. He shifted slightly, nuzzling his face deeper into her thigh, a small, almost childlike gesture. For the first time in his life, someone was truly taking care of him, protecting him, not from physical harm, but from the constant, gnawing anxieties that plagued his mind. It was a small, almost insignificant act of care, but in its simplicity, it felt profoundly significant.

—————————————————————————-

After the sunset, they returned to the shore, the last vestiges of daylight painting the sky in hues of fading rose and soft lavender. Fine grains of sand clung to their skin. Diane was sprawled comfortably beside him on a beach blanket, his oversized Yale sweatshirt draped over her bikini, the sleeves swallowed by her small hands. 

It was a stark contrast to her usual meticulously curated appearance— the tailored skirts that skimmed her knees, the crisp blouses buttoned just so, the subtle but perfectly applied makeup that enhanced her features. This casual, almost childlike version of Diane, with her hair tousled by the sea breeze and her face bare of makeup. 

He knew it was pathetic, this almost obsessive focus on her appearance. He was a man who commanded boardrooms, negotiated billion-dollar deals, and yet, he was utterly captivated by the way the fading light caught the curve of her cheek, by the way her bare feet ruffled in the sand. He was pathetic, he knew that, and yet he simply couldn’t bring himself to care. Not at this moment. Not when she looked like this.

She looked so perfect, it was bordering on painful. It was a low, simmering ache in his gut, a tightening in his chest that made it hard to breathe. He swore it was driving him clinically insane. So good that it was making his genius brain, the one that could dissect complex financial models and strategize corporate takeovers, malfunction. And, if he was being brutally honest with himself, it was also making his downstairs ‘brain’ run on overdrive.

She began to trace patterns in the sky with her finger, her voice soft and hushed, as if sharing a sacred secret. “See that bright one there?” she asked, pointing towards a star just beginning to pierce the twilight. “That’s Arcturus, one of the brightest stars in the spring sky. It’s part of the constellation Boötes, the herdsman. You can find it by following the arc of the Big Dipper’s handle.”

Kendall followed her gaze, his eyes drawn to the emerging point of light. The sky was still transitioning from day to night, a gradient of deep blues and purples, making the few visible stars seem all the more precious. “It’s just starting to come out,” he murmured, a genuine sense of wonder in his voice.

Diane smiled, her eyes reflecting the nascent starlight. “Exactly,” she said. “It’s a sign of spring, a promise of warmer nights to come. And over there,” she continued, shifting her finger slightly, “that’s Leo, the lion. See how it kind of looks like a backwards question mark? Regulus is its brightest star, marking the lion’s heart.” She traced the constellation’s shape in the sky, her finger moving with a graceful precision. “It’s a powerful image, a symbol of strength and courage.”

“Strength,” Kendall repeated, the word catching in his throat. He’d spent so much of his life trying to project an image of strength, a mask that was constantly threatening to slip. The idea of genuine inner strength, the kind that Diane seemed to possess effortlessly, felt like a distant, unattainable dream.

“Yeah,” Diane said, her gaze still fixed on the heavens. “And if you look a little further down, you can see Virgo, associated with the harvest, another sign of the coming abundance of summer. Spring is all about new beginnings, right? A time for things to grow and bloom.” She paused, taking a deep breath of the cool, fragrant air. “It makes you think about possibilities, about what could be.”

Her words, her quiet enthusiasm, had a grounding effect on Kendall. The emerging stars, the ancient stories woven into the constellations, the promise of spring’s renewal, created a space outside of his own anxieties. For the first time in what felt like forever, he felt present, connected to something larger than himself, anchored to the earth beneath him. The sand beneath him felt solid, the cool spring air on his skin felt refreshing, and the woman beside him, with her quiet wisdom and gentle spirit, felt like a lifeline in the encroaching darkness.

Kendall admired Diane’s side profile, she was beautiful, not in the polished, calculated way she often presented herself to the world, but in a raw, natural way that took his breath away. Spring was in the air, and it seemed to have breathed new life into her as well. The moonlight cast long shadows across the sand, illuminating the delicate curve of Diane’s cheek, the soft curve of her lips. 

"You look so beautiful," Kendall murmured, his voice low and husky, the sound barely audible above the gentle lapping of the waves against the shore. He leaned in, gently cupping her face in his hands, his thumbs brushing lightly across her cheekbones. His touch was feather-light, hesitant, as if he were afraid she might shatter if he held her too tightly. And then he kissed her.

The kiss was soft, almost tentative at first, like a question being asked rather than a statement being made. Gentle. Nothing rushed. It wasn't the kind of kiss they'd shared before. Their previous encounters had been charged with a different kind of energy, a raw, almost desperate urgency fueled by lust, by the heat of the moment during sex. Those kisses had been demanding, possessive, frantic. 

This was different. This was tender, almost hesitant, a soft exploration rather than a passionate conquest. It was the first time they had kissed like this, fully clothed. The lines blurred in Diane’s mind; this felt dangerously close to real. 

She pulled back slightly, a flicker of confusion, perhaps even a hint of fear, in her eyes. 

Kendall, sensing her hesitation, didn't pull away. He simply stroked her cheek with the back of his hand, his eyes a silent plea, a desperate yearning for something he couldn't quite articulate. He wanted this connection, this moment, to be real, to mean something. He so desperately wanted the heavens above to answer the silent prayer in his heart, to grant him this one thing he craved above all else: genuine, unconditional love.

Diane got lost in his hazel eyes, those pools of vulnerability and longing. Against her better judgment, she leaned back in, her own hand reaching up to touch his arm. Their lips met again, this time with a greater sense of urgency, their breaths mingling in the cool night air. Their lips moved in sync, it felt bizarre, wrong on so many levels. This wasn't supposed to happen. But for a fleeting moment, she allowed herself to forget about her plan.

Kendall was kissing her like he was terrified. Terrified he would wake up and it would’ve all been a dream, a fleeting mirage in the desert of his loneliness. He held onto her as if she might disappear at any moment, his lips pressing against hers with a desperate, almost frantic tenderness. He rolled them over, a slow, deliberate movement that shifted their positions on the beach. Now, Diane straddled his hips, her knees sinking slightly into the cool, damp grains of sand. 

“Sit on my face,” Kendall pleaded, squeezing her ass. She frowned as he laid his head down, getting cozy with his head on the sand, still smirking, patting his mouth comically—an invitation. 

“What?” Diane asked not sure what to make of his unusual request. She knew it was a private beach but it still felt too exposed.

When she didn’t move he lifted his head back up, “Come on,” he urged her, tapping her hips to nudge her along, “let me taste you. Sit. On. My. Face.”

Kendall couldn't resist not eating her out whenever he had the chance. She slowly crawled up over him, hesitating once she was straddling his chest, unable to hold back a blush. His warm hands are quick to hook around her thighs, sliding his thumb over her hip bones as she hovered in front of his chin, “come closer.”

He lifted his head up when she finally scooted forward, still hovering. Kendall kissed her inner thigh, smirking as her hips bucked lower towards his touch. 

“Sacred I’m gonna bite?” His lips moved against her thigh, his stubble tickling her as he spoke.

“No, I don’t want to suffocate you.” She pushed her fingers through his hair, gripping at his roots.

“I wish you would, ” he groaned, pulling her lower so he didn’t have to crane his neck to taste her. He licked the wet spot on her bikini, lapping at her juices, moaning before flattening his tongue, dragging it up to her clit to suck lightly through the fabric. 

It wasn’t long before had enough of the thin material blocking his way, aggressively pulling on the strings over her hips to untie it, so he could finally lick her how he wanted. Which she quickly realized was mercilessly. He was hungry—starved for something only her pussy could satiate, drinking her in like he was dehydrated. It was intense. He ate with reverence, slurping loudly and humming in appreciation, his hot lips suctioning on her clit till she was seeing stars. 

Diane’s feedback was choppy, like her brain couldn’t sync up in time to react to his movements— to the sensations. It was all broken moans and shudders, the only thing consistent is the way she pulled his hair.

She was leaning more and more of her weight onto his face and rocking , occasionally lifting a bit when she remembered her self-control. But after she lifted one too many times, Kendall’s fingers tightened around her thighs, holding her close with an ironclad grip— making her squirm.

Kendall was delighted as he peered up at her beneath drunk lashes, eyes just as dazed as his mind as he watched her sumptuous body move on top of him. She tasted like cloyingly honey on the tip of his tongue, her essence lingering in the back of his throat every time he swallowed. He chased the slick beads as they dripped down her plump thighs, greedy mouth attacking her soft insides as she moaned on top of him, her pussy drooling and clenching around nothing as the hot coil inside of her twisted tighter. He groaned against her searing skin, his hot breath tickling her sensitive flesh as every hair on the nape of her neck stood up.

"So beautiful" Kendall muttered, voice dripping with reverence. "You look so beautiful tonight."

He etched the intimate scene into his mind as a pleasant itch tingled at the base of his skull, fingers twitching around her plump hips as he squeezed the pillowy soft skin. His tongue lapped at the dripping seam of her cunt; prying open the puffy folds as indulged in more of your slick nectar flowing from her core like a river. 

Diane almost choked on a hiccup of pleasure, her clit weakly kicking against the press of his nose as he sealed his mouth over her entrance. Her blood simmered in her veins, pulling and tugging on his raven locks, hips shaking as she tried to contain her sudden spike in arousal twisting low in the pit of her gut. A constellation of tears clung to the edges of her lashes as stars swirled in her vision, voice stinging her throat as she struggled to breathe. 

Her legs trembled, her full weight failing upon his lips and tongue—and Kendall couldn’t have been more grateful . It didn't take long for his mouth to become sloppy,  drool dripping from the corner of his mouth. 

Diane’s vision began to blur. She couldn’t tell if it was from tears welling up or the overwhelming sensation building in her core. She was dripping so, so sweetly, and Kendall beneath her hummed, hungry, ravenous, he needed more, he wanted to eat her whole. His tongue slowly circled her bud, and oh fuck, he pulled and it tugged in it, opening the floodgates. The building pressure unfurled, Diane threw her head back, whimpering. And kendall drank it all in.

But he didn’t stop there. He wasn’t done just yet.

He held her in place, still latched onto her clit as she rode out her orgasm. Because cumming once wasn’t enough for him. It didn’t matter that his chin was wet with her, that his tongue was soaked with the taste of her. Kendall wanted to wrack her body until she had nothing left to give. So he kept on sucking and swirling his tongue around her clit, until she came again and again until she was spent, until she screamed without sound, until the stars behind her eyelids faded away into black.

Her hips convulsed around him, putting him in a headlock of sorts, before she released him, her body fell back against his raised knees, he caught her, letting her body take a moment from his torturous tongue.

“Could eat you all night,” he groaned, her legs still open, inches away from his mouth, as her back rested against his thighs, her head draped over his knees. He watched her pink, puffy lips glisten with his residual spit and her own sweet juices.

Diane had gone non-verbal by that point, her body was still shaking as she looked up at the vast expanse of the sky. Kendall moved his middle finger up and down along her slit before taking his middle and index finger to spread open her sensitive lips, admiring her sex dripping for him. He loved the way it glistened. He watched as her walls clenched around nothing, practically begging him to fill her up.

“Kendall, please,” she begged him. Her voice, still raspy. He did a double take at her disheveled appearance. Her eyes bloodshot with her mascara running, smudging her under eyes.

He didn't respond as he spread her lips further apart, letting the cold breeze hit her entrance. Her face heated up while Kendall fully exposed her.  

“You have the tightest little pussy,” he commented, feeling how her entrance wanted to take in his thumb, but he didn't push it in. Not yet.

He finally slipped a finger inside her. Her walls instinctively squeezed around his thick digit. She cried out in pleasure as she squirmed more. The pad of his finger slowly rubbed and pressed firmly on that spongey spot on her walls. She arched her back letting out a strangled cry.

Kendall gently pushed another finger inside her. She bit her lip to stifle a moan as he began pumping them in and out of her slowly. She felt his cock twitch under her. His fingers were knuckle deep, he continued thrusting them inside her. He curled them up and made sure to pay close attention to her g-spot, pressing on it and massaging it. Making her walls clench up, her toes curling in the sand.

“You okay, baby?” Kendall checked in, but his fingers didn’t slow.

“Y-yes… I’m okay, keep going,” she stammered out, as she tried to keep focus.

He chuckled and picked up the pace. His fingers were making her pussy create the most vulgar wet sounds she'd ever heard. Her slick soaking his hand as he fucked her. Her legs shook and he took his other hand to rub tight circles over her clit. 

Kendall didn't stop. His fingers still moved in and out of her while his other hand paid attention to her throbbing clit. He milked her pussy as she rode out her release. He finally slowed down and stilled his hands. Carefully, he removed his fingers with a loud shlick . A string of her juices still connecting to them. He brought them up to his lips, sticking them in his mouth.

Kendall hummed at the taste of her. “You’re so sweet.” She wanted to hide her face, her eyes were glossy, illuminated by the moonlight.

“You're crazy,” Diane whispered, feeling like she just had an out of body experience. He pulled her back down, their chests pressed together, his tongue dancing in her mouth. 

(*siri play champage coast by blood orange; 3:01*)

A rogue wave, emboldened by the rising tide, surged up the beach, engulfing their legs. The sudden rush of icy water sent a jolt through Kendall, a flash of annoyance tightening his features. He scowled at his soaked clothes, the sand now stubbornly clinging to the damp fabric.

But then he looked at Diane.

Her reaction was the complete opposite. She threw her head back and let out a burst of pure, unrestrained laughter—a sound so genuine and carefree, it was infectious. Before Kendall could process his irritation, Diane was running towards the water’s edge, jumping into the sea with a joyful cry, submerging herself completely. The cool water seemed to revitalize her, like a dried-up starfish returned to the ocean.

She resurfaced, her hair plastered to her face, water dripping from her eyelashes, but her smile was radiant. “It’s amazing!” she shouted, her voice echoing across the beach. “Come on in!”

Kendall watched her, a mixture of disbelief and reluctant amusement swirling within him. He was still annoyed about his ruined clothes, but Diane’s infectious joy was hard to resist. He couldn’t understand her carefree attitude, her ability to embrace the unexpected.

He hesitated, glancing at his expensive, now soaked shoes. But Diane’s laughter continued to beckon. He kicked off his shoes and waded into the cold water.

Suddenly, Diane splashed him, a playful wave aimed directly at his chest. Kendall gasped, feigning offense. “Oh, you’re going down!” he shouted, retaliating with a splash of his own. Playful splashes and shrieks echoed across the quiet beach, a stark contrast to Kendall’s usual heavy silence. He chased Diane through the shallows, the cold water a shocking but welcome sensation. As he lunged for her, catching her in his arms, they both tumbled into the waves with a shared cry.

For Kendall, the feeling was almost foreign. He had forgotten what it felt like to simply laugh. The last time he remembered feeling this carefree was a distant memory, a faded snapshot from a childhood that felt like it belonged to someone else. His life had become a carefully constructed performance, a constant striving for his father’s approval. There was no room for joy in the rigid structure he had built around himself. Every action was weighed against his father’s expectations, the burden of his past mistakes, the fear of his uncertain future.

But in that moment, in the cool ocean water, with Diane’s laughter ringing in his ears, the weight lifted. The years of pressure, the constant striving, the deep-seated fear – all of it seemed to wash away with the waves. He was just Kendall, a man playing in the ocean with a woman who made him feel something he couldn’t define. It was more than just attraction; it was connection, a shared moment of pure joy.

He looked at Diane, her face flushed with laughter, and a genuine smile spread across his own. He had forgotten the simple pleasure of being present, of letting go of his worries and simply enjoying another person’s company. She had somehow managed to chip away at the walls he had built around himself, revealing a part of him he thought had long since died. It was terrifying.

They continued their playful fight, splashing and chasing each other until they were both breathless and shivering. They collapsed onto the sand, their wet clothes clinging to their bodies.

“Come on,” Kendall said, extending a hand to her. “Let’s get you inside before you catch a cold.” He gently pulled her to her feet, noticing she was shivering slightly. The sand squished between her toes with every step.

He then bent down, scooping her up into his arms before she could protest. Diane gasped, a surprised laugh escaping her lips. “I can walk,” she protested, though her voice lacked conviction.

“You’re freezing,” he said, his voice firm but gentle, his eyes filled with concern. “And walking in this wet sand isn’t going to help. Besides,” he added with a playful grin, a hint of teasing in his tone, “I think I’ve worn you out tonight?”

Diane met his gaze, a small smile playing on her lips. She didn’t argue, wrapping her arms loosely around his neck. Her eyelids felt heavy, and she nestled against his chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat a soothing counterpoint to the crashing waves. Then, she drifted off.

Kendall carried Diane back to the house, her small frame surprisingly light in his arms. He climbed the porch steps and entered the warm interior, noticing her breathing had become slow and even. He carried her directly to the bedroom and gently laid her on the bed. The wet fabric of her clothes clung uncomfortably to her skin, so he carefully removed his soaked sweatshirt from her, being mindful not to wake her.

He fetched a soft towel and dried her off. He didn't care about the sand that fell onto the sheets or the saltwater that clung to their hair. All that mattered was Diane, the peaceful expression on her sleeping face, the soft rise and fall of her chest.

He found a clean pair of his sweatpants and a soft t-shirt and dressed her, pulling the soft fabric over her still-damp skin. He then lay down beside her, pulling the covers over them both and tightening his hold slightly, drawing her closer. He had never felt this sense of peace, this quiet contentment. It was a feeling that defied explanation—a simple knowing that everything, in that moment, was exactly as it should be.

It was just them, in that quiet room, with the sound of the ocean as their only companion. It felt perfect—a brief escape from the complexities of their lives, a moment of respite. For Kendall, it was a glimpse of something he hadn't known he was missing: a taste of peace and connection. And for Diane, in her sleep, it was a moment of respite from her carefully constructed plan, a brief surrender to the simple comfort of being held.

[perhaps-in-anotherdream]

[Art] Summer Time

Artist: -kylielee || Sub-masterlist

Source: ♡ || Permission: ♡

⌚ Please do not repost ⌚

—

[lio-the-chaotic-nonbeanie-weenie]

Fanfic Masterlist

I don't know how I completely forgot to make a masterlist for my fanfics so here it is! This list will be pinned at the top of my intro post as well. Each fic has all their warning tags so read safely!

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Sticks, Stones, and Words That Do Hurt [ao3 link]

The Favorite Side (Brotherly Creativitwins) [ao3 link]

You And I (Logince) [ao3 link]

A Prince And His Subjects (DLAMP + Brotherly Creativitwins) [ao3 link]

Balloons (Logicality)

Roman's Lullaby (Platonic LAMP)

Goodnight, Family (Platonic LAMP)

You're My Hero! (Logicality)

Mornings Together (Platonic LAMP)

Thanks, Dad (Platonic LAMP)

The Sunrise (Logicality)

Not Even Death Will Do Us Part (Past Roceit + Brotherly Creativitwins) [ao3 link]

He Loves Me, He Lied To Me (Roceit) [ao3 link]

Crayons For Patton (Royality)

Logan The Android (Analogical)

Do It For You, For me (Analogical)

The Quiet Game (Past Moceit + Brotherly Creativitwins)

A Supernatural World: Chapter 1, Chapter 2 (Brotherly Creativitwins) (Permanently incomplete)

Prince Of Hearts (Platonic DRLAMP, Prinxiety if you squint) [ao3 link]

Merry Christmas, Janus (Roceit)

Royal Promise (Brotherly Creativitwins) [ao3 link]

I'm The Star (Platonic Royality)

Bruised Ego (Roceit + Brotherly Creativitwins) [ao3 link]

Drift Away (Brotherly Creativitwins)

The Night Will Be Over Soon (Platonic Royality)

Protect Me (Logicality)

Paint War (Platonic LAMP)

A Blanket Fort Kind of Day (Platonic LAMP)

Bad Liar (No pairings)

Breaking Point (No pairings)

Drunk Host, Drunk Sides (Slight Prinxiety, Slight Logicality)

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Bad Things Happen Bingo Fic List

Going Into Hiding

Bedside Vigil

Wiping The Other's Tears Away

Big Brother Instinct

What Have I Done

Hallucinations

Backhand Slap

Forgetting To Eat

Sleep Deprivation

Hidden Scar

Rendered Mute

[missrosiesworld]

Masterlist

Started: 06/12/2024 Last Updated: 12/22/2024 Total Work: 60

Blooming Panic

Nightowl

Blossoming Love (x OC)

Blushing with Love (x OC)

Painting Love on Nails (x OC)

Check Out My Completed Story, Blossoming Love (x OC)

NakedToaster

The First Dance (x OC)

Touch (x OC)

Flustered (x OC)

Heartfelt Connections (Headcanons)

Quest

Michelangelo (x OC)

Entwined Roses (x OC)

XYX

Ride to Love (x OC)

Golden Sunset (x OC)

Dr. Stone

Senku Ishigami

Beyond Calculation (x OC)

Orbiting You (x OC)

Something's Wrong with Sunny Day Jack

Sunny Day Jack

My Heart's Sunshine (x OC)

Nick

Shot at Love Chapter 1 (x OC)

Shot at Love Chapter 2 (x OC)

Ian

Heartstrings (x OC)

Shaun

A Symphony of Healing : Part 1 (x OC)

A Symphony of Healing : Part 2 (x OC)

Lies of P

x Reader

Heart's Tender Whisper

Stargazing Whispers

Headcanons

Gentle Gears of Affection

Sweet Whispers

x OC (Elara)

Moonlit Whispers

Rhythms of the Heart

Embraced in the Shadows

First Encounters

Passionate Unfolding

Zenless Zone Zero

Lighter

In the Hollow's Silence (x OC)

Wise

The Proxy is Crushing? (Headcanons)

A Thoughtful Heart (Headcanons)

Von Lycaon

Gentleman's Heart (Headcanons)

Moonlit Confessions (Headcanons + Short Story)

Bonds of Love (Headcanons)

Tender Vigil (Headcanons)

Gentle Guidance (Headcanons)

Waiting for You (Headcanons + Short Story)

Seth

Heartstrings and Wagging Tails (Headcanons)

Billy Kid

Starlight Flutters (Headcanons)

Rina

Graceful Flutters (Headcanons)

Nicole

Cunning Hearts (Headcanons)

Repurpose

Noel

Fallen Embrace Chapter 1 (x OC)

Fallen Embrace Chapter 2 (x OC)

The Luckiest One (x OC)

Eternally Forever (x OC)

Ramon

It's a Trap (x OC)

A Night to Remember (x OC)

Persona 5

Akira Kurusu

Cafe Connections (x OC)

Check Out the Completed Story (x OC)

Stardew Valley

Sebastian

Whispers in the Rain (x OC)

The Kid at the Back

Beneath the Surface ( x OC)

Original Characters ID From Beneath the Surface

Forbidden Love (Sol x Reader/You)

Destiny 2

Crow

A Moment of Peace (x OC)

Unbreakable Bonds (x OC)

Palia

Reth

Bonds of the Heart (x OC)

Jel

Moonlit Embrace (x OC)

When the Night Comes

Ezra

Lunar Festival with Ezra (x OC)

Kingdom Hearts

Pure Heart (x OC)

[stardustvanfleet]

GRETA VAN FLEET RPF MASTERLIST ★ STARDUSTVANFLEET

This is a complete list of all of my Greta Van Fleet fics and blurbs, updated regularly! If you want to be added to my taglist, you can do that right here! thank you SO much for reading, all my love! XO, Li

Last update: 11/14/2024, new Jake fic Desire added!

☆ = smut ☼ = fluff * = longer favorites !

JAKE KISZKA X READER

Backstage Baby ☆ *

Keep Silent ☆ *

Desire ☆ * preview here

Here With You (Blurb) ☼

Car Sex (Blurb) ☆

JOSH KISZKA X READER

Rediscovery ☆ *

Reconnection ☆ * WIP

Merry Christmas to You ☼

Waited All Your Life (Blurb) ☆