#mr blonde preference

[imaginesbymk]

RESERVOIR DOGS PREFERENCE

BEING UNCONVENTIONAL LOVERS

Pairing: Reader Insert x Mr. White (Larry), Mr. Orange (Freddy Newandyke), Mr. Blonde (Vic Vega), Mr Pink + “Nice Guy” Eddie 

Tags: crime, mention of cops, violence, weapons (i.e Tarantino film)

Taglist - @locke-writes @aryn-the-bearheart @littlemissvincentvega (for boost <3)

A/N: happy 2025! gifs were selected through the gif search feature, i do not own any of them. i am slowly coming back from hiatus ! this prompt was a bit off and i did the best i could writing for them in this scenario so enjoy and leave a like/reblog/feedback <33 ^.^

MR. PINK x OC FIC | COMMISSION ME

MR. WHITE ( LARRY ) —

You were paired up with Larry for a robbery back in another state. He questioned why he's paired with an "amateur" and gets pissed at his boss for recruiting him with you. But during training, he grew to respect your skills and your wits and soon, it was you two stealing a kiss in the getaway car. But as soon as the cheque came in, you two became strangers. He has only spoken of you once when Joe asked that one time, but he does not speak of you ever again after that. That doesn't mean the attachment is no longer there. He thinks of you every now and then, but he knows that parting ways is the step afterwards. That's just how it is. Your affair with Larry would put you and his job and safety at risk and he has too much blood on his hands dating back to year whatever. This was his life and he knew you were better than him. Larry can't help it. He blindly lets his humanity win. When you two reunite again at a job or a pit stop diner, you two pick up where you left off and get in a stolen car and flee to Vancouver.

MR. ORANGE ( FREDDY NEWANDYKE ) —

It's pretty obvious; he's a cop and you're a robber. You end up getting recruited by an LA crime boss named Joe Cabot and you meet the last man who was handpicked and not from the roster. Freddy is immediately drawn to you but he just acts casual in his "criminal" character. You're so smitten by this guy that you feel like there's something off. He's committed to the assignment given how bold he was to snag the opportunity to work undercover, but once his romantic/sexual attraction to you interferes with his double life, he starts to spiral at the wrong place and the wrong time. He feels guilty for deceiving you like this, and he starts to fear for his own safety. The dynamic between the two of you is similar to his relationship with Mr. White, where Larry grows to be protective over Mr. Orange, letting his emotions and humanity get in the way. With you, his romantic/sexual relationship with you is one-sided because you do not even realize you hooked up with an undercover cop - and he even knows your name.

MR. BLONDE ( VIC VEGA ) —

Unhinged and violent, Vic is what Mr. White described as a "fucking psycho." You know better than to mess with him, but the second he's fresh out of prison and enjoying whiskey at a bar for the first time in years... he sees you dancing by the jukebox and he's already onto you. You wondered why... you only worked a normal job, you weren't a private dancer or a thief. Vic carries himself so well and you loved the rush despite knowing the consequences. You expected movie dates or a trip to Vegas, and he grants them to you, unless he laughs and says no because he doesn't feel like it. Though he showers you with the high life and adores you more than anything, he was given too much privilege and safe passage in his life before and after going criminal to fully understand the damage he causes for sport and power. The lifestyle often blinds you, so you look for a sign that you're not like Vic and that there's a chance to build a normal life with him... but that's extremely unrealistic.

MR. PINK —

Pink can't date someone who is sheltered and naively does not grasp the harsh realities of the world, nor can it be a current career criminal who chooses to leave the life of crime. It doesn't matter how careful you are and the clean slate you earn, you're still leaving breadcrumbs behind. As much as he tries to live a "normal" life with you, he can't stay in one spot for a long time. He has to constantly move to avoid detection and avoid red zones where he risks getting caught by cops or a rival gang. Plus, he's mainly looking out for himself, which deems him selfish in a way. When you won't go away, he blames you for falling in love with him in the first place, while also blaming himself for letting his emotions slip for one person and putting his job and security on the line. When he painfully succumbs to it, he ultimately pays the price.

"NICE GUY" EDDIE CABOT —

You're an overworked nurse and you fall in love with an underboss and co-leader of a crime family in Los Angeles. Eddie represents a shadow and treats the Cabot criminal business as an empire, so of course he is fiercely loyal and assertive to his Dad, especially when they conspire and recruit the men to rob the jewelry store. You already know what would likely happen if he was held at gunpoint and was forced to choose between you and the family business. He's also aware that he's putting you at risk if he is romantically or sexually involved with you. In most cases, he can't help but call you to help treat wounded or injured criminals on-site. Just finding excuse after excuse to bring you along with him because he trusts you and believes in your skills. When you've seen too much, you question how he has become so desensitized and asks if he would ever consider stepping down and settling down with you. You then remind yourself that Eddie is loyal and will never leave his Dad's shadow. He's not going anywhere.

[newwavesylviaplath]

i had a heart attack today. i want her so bad.

[littlemissvincentvega]

can you plssss do nsfw hcs of Reservoir Dogs? maybe their favourite position? if this is uncomfortable u dont need to write this! no pressure xx

the reservoir dogs & their favourite positions

a/n: thank you for the request babe i'm sorry i didn't do it right away i kind of suck at getting to them but i'm remembering how much i love writing!!! enjoy 🥰🥰

18+ explicit content / reservoir dogs x reader

cw: references to p in v sex, oral (f and m receiving), bdsm, slapping, spanking

mr. white / larry dimmick:

larry is kind of an oldschool guy in general, so i feel like missionary would be his thing. he likes to be able to see his girl's pretty face when he fucks her, and it gives him the freedom to be rough and dirty or slow and passionate. if it's the former, he'll pause every so often to lean down and kiss her forehead for taking him so well 🥺

mr. orange / freddy newandyke:

freddy just SCREAMS cowgirl to me. he likes to be able to see all of his girl, tits bouncing in his face and every inch of his cock buried in her sweet pussy. maybe he's just a lazy bitch? it gives him the freedom to touch her everywhere, though-- squeezing her ass, her hips, waist, kneading her breasts and pressing kisses to them while she rides him. he usually brings his thumb to her clit so he can see her face when she comes. that's a sight he never gets bored of

mr. brown:

idk why but i feel like brown likes a rope bunny. he likes to tie his girl up and i can see him enjoying her being hog-tied, him kneeling beside the bed so he can eat her pussy or facefuck her. but bondage aside he likes missionary, with his girl's legs in the air and her feet resting on his shoulders (i think you know why 🦶🦶😏)

mr. pink:

pink is sort of obsessed with eating his girl's pussy, so his favourite position is between her legs with his arms around her thighs. that way he can look up and see her face, see the ecstasy he's bringing to her with his tongue. he's also a fan of facesitting. it makes him sooo fuckin hard when his girl comes on his face and he's practically suffocated by her cunt. this guy has a magic tongue and i think we all know it

mr. blonde / vic vega:

woah okay this kinky motherfucker where do i even begin?? vic likes to slap during sex so doggy style is his go-to. it gives him the freedom to grab his girl's hips or waist so he can fuck her as hard as he likes (and trust me, he likes to POUND into that pussy) and slap her ass so hard she can't sit comfortably for a week. sometimes he'll bring his arm around her torso and clamp his hand around her throat, hold her upright and grunt dirty things into her ear. he's still proud of her being such a good girl, though, and sometimes he'll kiss the little patch of skin behind her ear

'nice guy' eddie cabot:

eddie is sort of a wild card when it comes to positions. he likes cowgirl because he's lazy and likes his girl's tits in his face, he likes fucking her from behind so he can slap her ass, he likes missionary so he can get as deep in her pussy as he wants. it all depends on the mood he's in. i also think eddie would like doggy style in front of a mirror so he can see his girl's face while he pounds her, it reeeeallly gets him off. another thing about eddie? he loves when his girl gets on her knees for him and begs for him to come all over her face and tits, it drives him feral 🥵

[jrueships]

sometimes i'll think abt a Fandom and wish it were bigger, and sometimes i'll read something from a fandom.. and wish it were smaller

[fashionandpinkglitter]

Supermodel Monique Desiree Taitague

[mametupa]

[fancystarletinpinkglitter]

Supermodel Monique Desiree Taitague

[webism]

pornstar!nanami who has a signature style to his videos—all of which are solo content consisting of him, manspreading in front of the camera in an awfully expensive suit. as his hands trace the muscles of his thighs, the seams of his trousers, the outline of his hardened cock.

pornstar!nanami who always takes his time getting to the good stuff, his voice silken as he speaks to those watching him. praise falls from his lips, which are always just out of view—the man doesn't dare show his face. something about professionalism and all.

pornstar!nanami whose videos usually end with him cumming into his closed fist, or into a toy if he's feeling so inclined. as a long time viewer of him, you've come to learn a few things about how he orgasms—he always bucks his hips up, chasing that instinct to breed. he always moans like he's in heat just before his climax, but because he's not great with breathing through his orgasms he chokes up just as he falls over the edge—it's a pretty sound.

pornstar!nanami who sometimes gets messy with it—he's such an organised and ritualistic man in his day-to-day that he sometimes just wants to let loose. sometimes, he'll only pull his cock out of his pants through the fly, and let the world watch as his precum dribbles all over those pressed pants of his. oh and does he go feral knowing that he's dirtying something so expensive with the receipts of his lust. who will stroke himself to completion just to watch his cum stain the fabric he's worked so hard to afford—there's no explaining that away to a drycleaner.

pornstar!nanami who likes to imagine it's a pretty thing riding his thigh that wrecks his trousers. wonders how many of his viewers touch themselves to his videos, hoping the could take him for all he's worth as well.

pornstar!nanami who, after a particularly messy session one day, gets an email after uploading his video. it's not even been ten minutes, which was the length of his video, so he assumes whoever has emailed him came particularly fast to that one.

pornstar!nanami who was more than right in his assumption. because as his eyes rake over the email sent by an adoring fan, he sees about a million different typos that indicate nothing other than messy fingers and a fucked-dumb typist. in your barely legible email, you explain that Mr. Nanamis videos are tagged 'near-you', and you'd happily offer your services as the next sex toy he uses to fuck-and-film in exchange for an orgasm or three.

and oh is pornstar!nanami intrigued. because his life is a busy one, he's a businessman when the sun is up time is precious and human connection is a scheduling conflict—his videos aren't solo out of preference, poor nanami, the pornstar, is a virgin.

pornstar!nanami who, after a few weeks of back and forth and some genuine conversation, ends up with his camera flashing red as you sit naked on his lap. and oh are you happy with the sight of him, blonde and sculpted to perfection underneath those lovely suits of his. Your ass is on display to anyone watching, upper half out of shot as your teeth clash with his.

pornstar!nanami who can't help the sounds he makes when you grind against his clothed cock. your slick, your pooling lust, it smears over the fabric of his pants and leaves a gloss behind in turn. he's ravenous, holding onto your hips and grinding you down against him in all the right ways. who moans into your mouth, already a little pussydrunk and he's barely had a taste of you.

pornstar!nanami who hopes he isn't unseemly in the way he manhandles you to sit properly on his lap. he knows you're as desperate as he is, what with the way you slip your hands down to undo his belt and pull his cock free. your fingers wrapped around his length is enough of a narcotic to cum on the spot, though he steadies his reeling mind and holds out.

pornstar!nanami who offers to fuck you on his fingers first, to use his tongue to warm you up and get you ready for his, frankly overbearing, size. but you're insistent, eager, and lowering yourself onto his aching cock with a kiss to his lips and a sharp inhale shared between you.

pornstar!nanami who thanks whatever god may be out there for letting him film a glimpse of heaven.

pornstar!nanami who can barely keep himself together as you ride him like he's the toy at hand. he's sure he's never been this vocal for his viewers, moaning alone is a feat that is hot at best and hauntingly awkward at worst—this, though—he's never been so mindless. and you love it. all the videos you've watched where his voice is smooth and confident and he's the picture of put-together. having such a man, a gentleman like nanami, absolutely melting with each clench of your dripping pussy around his length? it's an aphrodisiac in itself.

and when you catch onto the fact that pornstar!nanami is about to cum—the bucking of his hips, those drawling moans, the hitch of his breath—you kiss him stupid, and then speak against his pretty swollen lips. 'breathe'

and oh does pornstar!nanami breathe. a desperate droning moan escapes his breath, right into your mouth as he empties himself inside of you like he's trying to give you his last name.

pornstar!nanami who can't help himself. flipping you over and onto your back, pressing you into the mattress as he continues to fuck into you. he's going to pull as many orgasms out of you as he can—it doesn't even register in his mind that, due to the new angle of your bodies, he's just let the world see his face, and the pretty pussy drunk blush that paints it pink.

[evilgwrl]

ExHusband!Simon x Reader

You Want a Divorce? (One)

Note: I'm having the WORST writer's block now so pls excuse my lack of proper writing... I'm currently sitting in front of a beach writing in hopes that ill gain inspo

CW: Angst, mentions of sex, jealous/possessive Simon, PLS DONT LEAVE YOUR KIDS IN THE CAR !!! Or break into someone’s house

Inspired by: Ex!Husband Simon

PART TWO

Simon stared at you. The shades of his eyes simmering into endless voids of obsidian, blonde lashes moulded against his greased lids, the residue of the perpetual torture his body had succumbed to during deployment.

“You want a divorce?” He spoke, voice deep as he flickered between your shaking heads, sweat soiling into the papers gripped firmly and your swollen face, cheeks feverish with a red hue, eyes even more so.

You held back a rough sob, throat stripped of all moisture evident in your hoarse voice as you spoke, “Yes, Simon. I think it would be best for our family… for us.”

He scoffed. “You think the best thing for our family is to separate?”

“We already pretty much are. You’re away for days, weeks, months at a time. We’re hardly a family and it’s difficult to explain to the children why I’m crying.”

“Ok then.”

That was it. You would admit, it stung. His lacklustre tone felt like a stab in the gut, the blade drenched with anthrax as it reared blistering sores internally, the effects having shown through your putrid complexion. Your skin was dull, practically lifeless, the only living form of you grew day by day through the darkening of eyebags that almost made you look apocalyptic.

It had been 12 months of separation, officially 8 being legally divorced. You kept his last name, the permanent burn of hearing Mrs Riley still searing through you with every syllable, yet you feel it would only hurt you more if they said Ms.

Simon was often away now, and the minimal family time he used to get felt pointless as the shabby apartment he moved into after the sudden interference of your mind-boggling news barely fit the two kids you shared. His body felt more relentless on him, the taunting of his mind fulgurated the inoperative reality that he would come home to you, to his family.

His voice, almost like it dropped an octave had grown richer in aggression, tormenting those he deemed suitable, both with his tongue and with his bruised knuckles, an oil painting of blue and purple hues radiating across the pale flesh as he shrugged it off to his team as “pushing himself and others to do better”.

Couldn’t you realise your mistake? Wouldn’t you prefer crying in his arms about his absence than never having it fulfilled again?

As he looked around the bleak environment, tan stained walls revolting the creaking mattress he had brought someone home to, someone who wasn’t you. It made him feel sick like a viral infection had slunk its way into his bloodstream as he laid next to a woman that failed to make his cock throb, endless images of you sprawled out under him flickering. No wonder he called out your name instead.

You felt the familiar shake of your hands every time your phone dinged; Simon’s dreary tone was evident through his dry “On the way” text. You ushered a day of your children’s life into their cartoon-themed backpacks, innocent smiles adorning their skin, doe-like eyes of brown, far too familiar to Simon’s staring up at you.

The sound of his car scraping into your paved driveway almost made you feel like throwing up, the nerves of seeing him combined with the already present pit of anxiety due to your date later turning you into one big shaky mess as you brushed it off as “too much caffeine”.

The echo of his car door slamming shut rung through your ears, staining you with the reiteration that your ex-husband was now at your door, heavy fists knocking upon the wood. The image you saw of him in your mind morphed back to reality as you stared at him, a blank expression on your face.

“Hi, love.”

“Hi, Simon.”

Your frown was clear, the pet name you were so used to becoming a distant memory in the past few months. It was a hole you were attempting to fill, to clear yourself away from his teasing tongue and faux impression of a healthy relationship. You were divorced for a reason, you knew that, but as you gazed upon the lack of life in his skin, it was almost like he was holding a mirror up to you.

“Daddy!” You watched as your 5-year-old, Ella, practically leapt into his hefty frame, his hands coiling around her like second nature. You could feel his warmth, the heat that would build in your stomach when you felt those same digits touch you.

“Hi sweetheart,” his voice gruff, yet tone lighter as he placed a delicate kiss on the skin of her forehead, “You miss me?”

She nodded, her face buried in the hem of his neck as your other child cooed from the bouncy chair, tubby legs attempting to wheel himself to the door.

“There’s my boy,” Simon practically cooed as he placed Ella down, bounding inside as he lifted the toddler out, grabby arms reaching out to pull at Simon’s locks, gentle tugs causing you to laugh.

Your voice cut through the scene like glass. Why would you want to destroy such a happy moment? Weren’t you supposed to be reuniting? Just say it, tell Simon you want him to come home, that you need him.

“This is Ella’s bag,” you speak, holding up the pink Minnie Mouse bag, “And this is Toby’s.” Your son giggled as he muffled out the words, “Transformers”.

Simon nodded, “Are you doing anything tonight?”

Ella practically screeched, “Mummy’s going on a date!” The thrill of her laughter that followed only seemed to make the situation more awkward.

“A date?” Simon’s voice was deadly, the hair raising on your arms as you shook your head, a tight smile on your suddenly dry lips.

“No, no, nothing like that. Just catching up with an old colleague of mine.”

“But he’s a boy, Mummy,” Ella giggled. Who was raising your daughter to be such a big mouth? Your face formed an annoyed look, eyebrows raising as a line of wrinkles crinkled against your forehead, your pointer fingers massaging your temples.

“An old colleague?” Simon practically gasped. Had he met him at your old work Xmas parties?

“Let’s get you guys in the car.” You fumbled with Toby’s car seat as you strapped him in, your nimble fingers shaking with anxiety before you shut the door, pressing a kiss against the window before wiping away the minimal residue of dirt. Gross.

“Who is he?” His tone was acerbic like he was looking for an argument. How dare you try and replace him? He was your husband, the father of your two kids? Have you seen this random man before? Had he fucked you?

“God, Simon-“

“Who is he?” Simon was relentless, bullying his way into getting the answers as his arms folded across his chest, tattoos practically screaming at you too.

“His name’s Andrew. I ran into him at a coffee shop a few weeks back and he just wanted to catch up. That’s it.”

A loud scoff sounded in the air. “You mean that geezer from that corporate job you hated? The one who didn’t know it was weird to blatantly stare down your dress when you were standing next to your fucking husband?”

“He didn’t stare down my dress! You’re not my husband anymore, Simon. I can see who I want.”

“I don’t want our children to grow up thinking they have multiple dads.”

You’ll admit, that stung.

“Multiple dads? You’re out of your mind. The only reason they would ever believe they have multiple dads is if their real one stopped showing up. And where have you been, Simon? When have you shown up?”

Simon held his tongue, the warmth of the metallic taste gashing through his teeth as he practically snarled past you. “I’ll bring them back tomorrow.”

The dress you wore was practically suffocating you as you tucked your stomach in. Simon never minded the change in your figure after motherhood, he found himself liking it even more. He loved knowing that his seed put you through that, that he made you swell with his children, and he brought out the glow in your cheeks and the delicate stretch marks that laced your hips.

Andrew was nice. His tone was comforting as he walked to your door, ushering you to his car as he insisted you could order whatever you wanted. He was handsome, the salt and pepper hues of his hair settling your insecurity.

“We’ll take the Pinot Noir,” he spoke, looking at you with an almost arrogant sheer in his blue eyes. You only liked white. Simon knew that just like he knew everything about y-

You’re not with Simon anymore. You had to realise that. Maybe that’s why you brought Andrew home, let him shove his cock (that was a lot smaller than what you were used to) inside your heat, as you let out moans you had mimicked from the porn you watched with the actor that resembled far too much of your ex-husband.

Simon's fingers gripped the steering wheel early the next morning, your two children snuggled up in the backseat as he drove back to his old house, your old home. He wasn’t a man who gave up easy, he would show you, prove to you that you made a mistake. You needed each other.

Hold on. You don’t drive a red car?

His car lurched into the entrance of your home, nearly ramming into the garage as he shoved it in park, rolling down the two back windows slightly for air as he dug around in the small side compartment of his car.

The familiar gold key he had stolen from you the night he packed up all his stuff stared back at him, practically egging him on. Go on Simon, march in there. So he did. His hand rattled against the door knob, glancing back to peak into the car for a second before he slammed the door shut.

Your body froze. Were you being robbed? No. It was only Simon. A very angry-looking Simon. You stood, the white sheet barely shielding your naked body as he took in the sight of the man next to you, his hands wrapping around his shoulders as he practically ripped him out of bed, flinging him onto the floor as he grunted, eyes reared with hatred.

“Simon, what the fuck are you doing? WHERE ARE THE KIDS?”

Andrew groaned, on the floor, covering his groin as Simon chucked the masculine clothes at his head, the thin boxers soiled across the man’s scalp as he trembled.

“Our kids are asleep in the car, waiting for their Mummy to come to the zoo with them.” Simon’s words were despicable, laced with an acrimonious tone, small particles of spit seething through his lips as stared at you.

He turned to the man, a giant frame staggering over the top of him. “Get the fuck out, and if you wake up our kids when you go past, I will personally put a bullet straight in the middle of your skull,” he said, pushing a thick digit against his forehead as Andrew rushed out, clothes barely on before you felt the front door shut, a cry of apologises leaving your lips as you tried to assist him but Simon only held you back, a tight grip coiling around your arm.

“What the fuck was that? How’d you get in?” You couldn’t even place the words to say, humiliation roaring through you as you snuggled the sheet closer to you, away from his peering eyes.

“It’s time to be a family again, don’t you think love?”

[lavandulawrites]

Genshin men or Honkai Star Rail men (whichever you prefer or tickles your fancy at the moment) with a darling that just likes to sit in their lap. Just a very cuddly darling that shows almost cat like affection (ie, darling will initiate affection when they want it, head buts as a form of affection? Just sort of nuzzling into the yandere when they feel like)

(Does this make sense? I just woke up)

Yandere HSR Men With An Affectionate Darling

Characters: Argenti, Aventurine, Blade, Boothill, Caelus, Dan Heng, Dr. Ratio, Gallagher, Gepard, Jiaoqiu, Jing Yuan, Luocha, Moze, Mr. Reca, Sampo, Sunday, Welt

I chose Honkai Star Rail. This is such a cute request<3 Don’t worry anon, I understood what you meant:) I wrote this as soft yandere, but if you (or anyone else) wants me to write a more eerier version let me know! I’m open for yandere hsr men requests with different scenarios (though I’m most likely nit going to include as many characters as in this one).

Masterlist

Warnings: fluff, soft yandere, obsession, possessiveness, delusional yandere, protectiveness

Word count: 1678

Argenti

Argenti thought your behaviour is absolutely adorable. He highly encouraged it and nuzzled his head onto the top of your head while whispering you praises.

His heart bustled with love and adoration as you sat yourself onto his lap for the fourth time that day. The Knight of Beauty is so very happy that you realise you are safest in his strong arms. With him you are safe from all the horrors of the universe. A poor little thing like you shouldn’t see such ugliness.

Aventurine

After all the horrors and the abuse the blond Stoneheart has faced throughout his life, your affection is something he deeply cherish. When you first willingly sat yourself down on his lap, his gorgeous multicoloured eyes widened and his heart skipped a beat. After that he chases after your love and affection as if it were his lifeline (and it might very well be just that).

His hands tangled themselves in your hair as you rest your head against his shoulder. His breathing is uneven as he swears to himself he will keep you safe for eternity, no matter the cost. If he have to, he will burn down the entirety of the universe. Because there is no way in hell he will let someone as pure as you get hurt. His cheeks redden in uncharacteristically blush.

Blade

Blade had just come home from a particularly difficult and exhausting mission, when you greeted him with a kiss on the cheek and a warm hug. His black heart hammered against his chest at the unexpected gesture. He hesitantly returned your hug while his thoughts ran through all sorts of possibilities that your gesture was a trap. When he realised that was not the case, he relaxed into the hug.

Now, every time he comes back from a mission, he can’t wait to feel your warmth again. He won’t initiate it, but it’s clear as day what he want. His feelings is deeper than what they were before and his possessiveness has gotten out of hand.

Boothill

Given his new identity as a Galaxy Ranger, Boothill had long given up the idea of such things as affection and loving touches. So when you first snuggled up to him almost like the barn cats he grew up with, he couldn’t help but feel the sting of phantom tears (oh if only if that doctor hadn’t removed his ability to cry). He brushed his emotions of with a cheeky comment and a chuckle at your shyness.

You being such an adorable little darling, he can’t leave you unprotected now could he? His new life mission is keeping you safe and everyone who stands in his life will pay with their lives.

Caelus

The eccentric young man loved snuggling up with you. It was rarely you couldn’t find him with you in his arms. Your affectionate behaviour only egged him further on. He was like glued to you. His amber eyes filled with hearts as he locked eyes with you.

One night as he held you in his strong arms, he decided he will keep you in his room from now on. You are much safer there after all and it isn’t like you don’t like him. So you sure wouldn’t mind it.

Dan Heng

Dan Heng had never been familiar with hugs and other forms of affection. Sure, he had read about it, but it was a foreign concept. So one could say the first time you hugged him greatly shocked him. It took a few times before he relaxed against you. His entire being brimming with joy.

He wanted to drown himself in your lovely eyes and always feel your warmth. His already existing possessiveness tenfold as his need to keep you close by and where his eyes always could see you.

Dr. Ratio

The famous doctor was extremely fond of your affection, but he rather not show it. It would be improper, but still a geniuses slips up from time to time. He can’t help the smiles that forms upon his lips whenever you snuggle up to him. You reminded him of a cat and he couldn’t help but gently stroke his hand over your back.

In public he will seem as stern and stotic as he usually does, but inside he is consumed with love that ran deeper than any well. His throat closes up when your hand finds his. Ratio loves coming home to your waiting arms where all his worries and sorrows seem to disappear.

Gallagher

Gallagher was as affectionate as a dog and he loved your cuddles. He seems comfort in your warmth and his heart softened like pudding when you do the same with him.

You’re safe within his arms. You are a fragile thing and Gallagher can’t help the need to protect you from anything. Why would you want to be alone when you could be with him? Your cuddle sessions becomes a normal part of your everyday life, a change which Gallagher welcomes with open arms.

Gepard

The first time you wrapped your arms around the Captain in a living hug, he froze in place just like the ice in the outskirts of town. His face reddened, but happiness overflowed his eyes.

Every time he came home from work he sought out your warm embrace. His stress melted away as you held him in your arms. He was glad you were content with staying at home and far away from the dangerous outside.

Jiaoqiu

The fox was very cuddly himself and was more than happy to indulge in your cuddles. His soft tail was more often than not wrapped around your limbs in an effort to keep you as close to him as possible.

He greatly appreciated your affectionate nature and used it as a means to keep you close to him and away from all harm. At night when his nightmares appeared and his need to lock you away crept through his mind, his hold on you tightened in a firm grip. He will never let you go.

Jing Yuan

The snoozing general loved your cuddliness. He found it adorable and it made his love for you deepen (if that was even possible). His protective arms were always snugly wrapped around you. You were his everything and he was beyond grateful for your loving affection.

Jing Yuan adored your soft personality and he would be damned if he didn’t use it to make you stay with him. Why would you bother to go outside when you could be inside cuddling with him? It’s so much safer inside after all…

Luocha

Luocha was a gentle man through and through. For him it was nothing more important than you. He enjoyed your affection and encouraged it with his skilled silver tongue.

He want to have you as close to him as possible at all times, but sadly that is not possible given his missions that require you to stay somewhere safe. When he gets home from said missions, the first thing he does is finding you and wrap his arms around you. He will pamper you as much as possible and his heart warms with love every time you snuggle up to him.

Moze

The assassin had always been wary to physical touch, and that with good reason. There was way too many people who would love nothing more than to see him dead. You, however showed him that affection was a beautiful thing (that might only be because it’s you).

With you in his arms, he let his guard down. He felt peaceful and he wanted nothing more than to keep you safe. His arms coiled themselves around you in a tight hold as he swore to himself that he would eradicate every obstacle.

Mr. Reca

The ideal night for Mr. Reca was a movie night together with you. Your cuddly personality came in handy for just that. Your warmth inspired him and he made sweet romantic movies with the main character inspired by you. Though no actor could even come close to capture your greatness.

He purposely put on horror movies to have you cling to him like a lifeline. You were so adorable that his heart almost couldn’t take it. You were so fragile and sweet that he couldn’t bear seeing any harm come your way. You will be safer hidden away in his home where only he could reach you.

Sampo

The cunning con-artist businessman could never get enough of your cuddles. He had no shame and often wraith his arms around you whenever you went in a tight bear hug.

Nights consisted of cuddles and sweet nothings. His love for you almost made his heart burst through his chest and his possessiveness grew every day. He was sure one day his heart would explode if he didn’t protect you from all the cruel things humanity was capable of.

Sunday

Your hugs brought warmth and comfort which was something Sunday really needed. With you in his arms all his worries seemed to disappear. His wings shields your face as you nuzzle your head against his.

You remind him of the little bird he and his sister found when they were children and the need to keep you safe is what drives him. He cannot bear to live in world without you.

Welt

There is nothing like a good cup of tea and you perched on his lap. He loves very sweet moment shared between the two of you. He has experience lots of horrible things throughout his long life, so the serenity shared with you is something he greatly appreciated.

He vowed to himself to always keep you safe. Though that is no challenge given how you prefer to spend your days together with him. He felt blessed that you felt so safe with him that you showed him your affectionate side. Welt will always put you first everything as you is more important to him than everyone else (they ones who tried to come between you won’t know what’s coming for them).

[flwrstqr]

MR. LOVERBOY ✶ RIVALS 2 LOVERS ( 日语 ) ╰—— 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗅𝗂𝗓𝖾 𝗁𝖺𝗍𝖾 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝗅𝗌 𝖺 𝗅𝗈𝗍 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾.

𝑜𝑓 · PREC𝓲S : enhypen hyung line x 𝑓!reader 8OOwc. . ── non idol au, enemies to lovers, fluff, skinship, lot of bickering ( MY D𝒾ARY ) ⠀

다니 : new layouts > < since juni && jenni wanted me to post this first here i am ㅋㅋ not to mention, a lot of my crushes.. i had an enemies 2 lovers trope

RBLGS&LiKES ── CLiCK ´ ∀ `)

𝗟𝗘𝗘 𝗛𝗘𝗘𝗦𝗘𝗨𝗡𝗚 heeseung leans casually against the lockers, his smirk as infuriating as ever. "what’s got you so grumpy today, pretty girl? didn’t get your beauty sleep?" he teases, his voice dripping with mockery. you glare, arms crossed. "don’t call me that. and maybe i wouldn’t be grumpy if you stopped existing." he chuckles, the sound low and annoyingly attractive. "oh, come on, admit it, you’d miss me." "hmm," he muses, tilting his head, "would you be mad if i kissed you, pretty girl?" your heart stumbles, but you keep your glare sharp. "yes, obviously." his grin widens, dangerously playful. "hmm, then i hope you accept my apology." before you can process his words, his lips are on yours—entirely unexpected. when he pulls back, he winks. "still mad?" annoyingly, maybe not.

𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗝𝗢𝗡𝗚𝗦𝗘𝗢𝗡𝗚 "come on, just one ride! i don’t bite," jay smirks, fingers drumming on the steering wheel of his sleek black sports car as he watches you huff in the passenger seat. "you’re insufferable," you snap, crossing your arms. the scent of his cologne fills the space. "i hate you, jay." his laughter is low, a little too smooth as his eyes flick toward you, twinkling with mischief. "i heard hate as love, angel," he drawls, leaning slightly closer. you glare at him, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a response, but the faint tug of a smile at the corner of your lips betrays you.

𝗦𝗜𝗠 𝗝𝗔𝗘𝗬𝗨𝗡 the room buzzes with compliments as your friends gush over your freshly dyed hair. "oh my god, you're so gorgeous!" someone squeals, and you offer a small smile. but then, out of the corner of your eye, you spot jake, casually leaning against the wall with that trademark smug grin. he saunters over, hands in his pockets. "new hair," he says, voice smooth as ever. "yeah," you reply, shooting him a slight glare, already bracing for whatever annoying comment he’s about to make. he tilts his head, studying you for a moment before smirking. "but i do believe i prefer blonde." you scoff, crossing your arms. "and i prefer you out of my life." he steps closer. "too bad, princess. looks like we're both out of luck."

𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗚𝗛𝗢𝗢𝗡 the blackout plunges the entire building into darkness, and the murmurs of your friends echo faintly down the hallway. "y/n! where are you?" someone calls, but you stay frozen in place, breath hitching as sunghoon steps closer. "scared of the dark, sweetheart?" his voice is low. "you wish," you shoot back. before you can think, he leans in, his lips brushing yours in a secret kiss. your heart pounds, but the moment is gone as quickly as it came. footsteps grow louder, and you pull back, breathless. "y/n! seriously, where are you?" your friends call again. sunghoon straightens, his expression perfectly nonchalant as he steps into the dim light. "she's right here," he says casually, like he didn’t just steal your first kiss

[imaginesbymk]

RESERVOIR DOGS PREFERENCE

PUTTING (EUPHORIA) MAKEUP ON THEM

Characters: Mr. White (Larry), Mr. Orange (Freddy Newandyke), Mr. Blonde (Vic Vega), Mr. Pink, Mr. Brown + “Nice Guy” Eddie 

Tags: swearing, tarantino characters not appreciating the beauty of makeup ??

Taglist: @locke-writes​ & @aryn-the-bearheart​

A/N: i am currently planning a reservoir dogs/pulp fiction x OC AU fic that's euphoria-themed, but i feel like its just hyper fixation and my untreated adhd will just make me abandon it entirely and bounce back to fixating on HBO war fics :P enjoy and leave a like/reblog/feedback <33 ^.^

( i added links to the makeup looks they have lol! its highlighted so you will see )

━︎ MR. WHITE ( LARRY DIMMICK )

He thinks you're joking, but you're so serious

Mr. White laughs out loud. "C'mon. Don't do that to me, y/n. I'll wear those things the day aliens land and go clubbing in L.A."

One time he's so drunk from the bar that he comes home and gets too curious when he sees you organizing your makeup station. "All right, I'll bite. Make me look like a doll."

He's not sober so he moves too much, and you're struggling.

"Finally done!"

He checks the vanity. You went simple but bold on graphic eyeliner. "Ho-ly shit!" He laughs. "I could pick up women and men at the bar if I went out like this earlier."

━︎ MR. ORANGE ( FREDDY NEWANDYKE )

Freddy has a nice eye shape, so you decide to give him a smokey eye look with glitter tears

He lowkey doesn't mind it, he knows he's good looking so why not add more shine to it?

"Stop moving, Freddy. You'll make me mess up."

He checks the mirror. "How do you come up with this?"

You take a lot of photos of him, and he keeps it on for the whole day that he'll forget that he's wearing makeup

Officer Holdaway from the police department visits him at the apartment with some case files he picked up for him. "What the FUCK happened to you, man?"

━︎ MR. BLONDE ( VIC VEGA )

He thinks it's too girly, and would only appreciate it if it was worn on someone attractive

Mr. Blonde mainly likes red lipstick and loves it when you leave lipstick stains on him

You're actually worried that he'll touch his face too much that it'll ruin his makeup (he touches his face too much)

He's so annoyed that he finally gives in and lets you experiment.

You let him choose the colours on the palette. "I dunno, that one."

He hums when he looks in the mirror. "Yeah. It's cool." He kinda likes it, but he immediately makes you wipe it all off.

━︎ MR. PINK

There is absolutely no way Pink is ever gonna wear makeup, let alone let you put a dab of blush on him

He will literally swat your hand away and try to throw you off the couch when you pounce on his lap with a powder brush in your hand

He's passed out on the couch and you slowly and carefully apply pink liner on him

He wakes up all groggy, annoyed, and confused as to why you're smiling and laughing so devilishly. "What's the fuckin' matter with you?" He goes into the bathroom and looks in the mirror. "Y/N L/N YOU ARE SO DEAD."

━︎ MR. BROWN

Brown will only say yes as long as you don't make him go out in public

"Fine," he huffs. "But I want a Madonna glam."

You agreed because he couldn't stop talking about Like A Virgin the whole day.

As he's watching you look at the eyeshadow palette, you decide on the neon colours for the 80s vibe.

"I can't believe I'm actually doing this," he says to you.

He keeps bombarding you with questions about the brushes. "There's a whole routine to makeup?! Jesus."

"I guess I do feel kinda pretty," he chuckles to himself in the mirror.

He messes up his makeup because he kept scratching his eyes!!!!

━︎ NICE GUY EDDIE ( EDDIE CABOT )

"No fuckin' way, y/n. Do I look like a lab rat?"

"I promise I'll make it look cool." You bribe him to do it. You'll do extra hours with Dove if he lets you do his makeup.

He's in his office chair and you're sitting cross-legged on his desk, working on his face like an artist with their canvas.

He's sweating and constantly checks the door because anyone can walk in, even Joe or the Dogs, and see him wearing makeup. He would have to crawl into a turtle shell and go into hiding for the rest of his life if his Dad caught him.

"Jesus, are you almost done?"

"Just about done." You put the lid back. "Do you like it?"

He checks the tiny mirror on the wall. "Oh." He nods. "Did you superglue gems on my face?!"

The door opens. Mr. Blonde is standing there, jaw dropped on the floor.

[hamilando]

ੈ✩ don’t cry at my wedding (smau) ੈ✩

pairing : charles leclerc x russell !fem reader

summary : the siblings realising that the sister has grown a little to much

tw : emotional, friends being chaotic!

fc: Martha Hunt *she is so pretty-*

a/n : thank you so much to @xshazxx for suggesting this ! lysm 🫶🏻

·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ✩ ･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ✩ ･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ✩ ･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ

liked by georgerussell, lewishamilton, mercedesamgf1, charlesleclerc and 67,937 others

mercedesomg Blondes do it better 🫷🏻

view comments

georgerussell do what better little miss sister ?

mercedesomg anything you would like to imagine 😗

user1 DO IT BETTER GURL 💪🏻

user2 blonde is really your color 📷

lewishamilton the color suits you !!

mercedesomg my favourite brother 🫶🏻

georgerussell EXCUSE ME WHAT !?

maxverstappen1 george is currently screaming gibberish in the lounge

carmenmmundt dw, omw to pick him up 🏃🏻‍♀️‍➡️

user3 the spain air hitting ✨

user4 it hit ferrari a little to hard

lilyhye I told you blonde was your color ✊🏻

mercedesomg well, thank you lily AND ALEX

alex.albon thank god you didn’t forget 👀

liked by mercedesamgf1, lewishamilton, georgerussell and 94,237 others

mercedesomg running a mercedes powered account 🫶🏻💪🏻

view comments

lewishamilton you are disowned from the position of my sister

mercedesomg NO, lewis appreciation post coming up ! 🫶🏻

user1 MY EYES

user2 MY HEART

user3 MY BRAIN

user4 i love how she posted thirsty pics of the russells and a meme of lewis

mercedesamgf1 we stan this user 🙌🏻

liked by mercedesomg

georgerussell are you alright ? do you need to go the hospital ? you posting a good pic of me !?

mercedesomg shut up and accept it 🫷🏻

georgerussell also, why would you post a half naked picture of yourself !?

mercedesomg you are literally naked showing your tatas

user5 the russell siblings are literally kids every parent would dread to have

user6 imagine them fighting

landonorris you don’t want to see that

user6 LANDO REPLIED TO ME !?

lilihye i am blinded by the watermelons on my screen

mercedesomg LILY, BABE WE ARE IN PUBLIC, DON’T EXPOSE US

lilihye oh sheesh 🫢

user7 lili is us ✊🏻

liked by user1, user2, user3 and 178,937 others

f1wags The Russell sister is engaged !? or is it just part of her look !?

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user1 now even wearing a ring is dangerous 💀

user2 bro it’s just a ring

user3 SHE IS ENAGAGED!?

user4 it’s literally just a ring, her stylist must have made her wear it !

user5 if she is engaged, i am stanning haas 🫷🏻

user6 you will regret it brother

user7 do we have any candidates for her beau ?

user8 Lewis ?

user9 you did not-

user10 oh lord, if she saw this

user11 LEWIS IS LITERALLY LIKE A BROTHER TO HER !

user12 Lili?

user13 possible 🫣

liked by charlesleclerc, lewishamilton, georgerussell and 357,285 others

mercedesomg I look better in red 🙌🏻🌶️

view comments

user1 I TOLD YOU Y’ALL ITS LEWIS

user2 mate 💀

user3 brother 💀

georgerussell did you just leave me and lewis for that short ass kid ?

mercedesamgf1 and toto

mercedesomg wait till you all see the username change 😗

user4 HOLD UP! WE MISSED A WHOLE CENTURY MISS !?

user5 SHE IS ENGAGED !? OH LORD, I have to stan haas !?

scuderiaferrari welcome to the family ❤️

mercedesomg aww, thank you 🥹

carlossainz55 it really does suit you!

liked by mercedesomg

user6 what is the username change !?

user7 END OF AN ERA 😭

landonorris charles, you did good

user8 for what 👀

user9 oh hell nah…

charlesleclerc i would prefer you looking nude ☺️

georgerussell MATE THATS MY SISTER

lewishamilton you better behave with her, future team-mate

charlesleclerc SHE IS MY FIANCE

charlesleclerc i see you lewis 👀

mercedesomg and i see you mr. leclerc, you are sleeping on couch

charlesleclerc WHY !?

lilihye bad choice charles

maxverstappen bad choice charles

landonorris bad choice charles

pieregasly bad choice charles

mercedesomg you spoiled my hard launch 😗

user10 SHE AND CHARLES !?

user11 talk about plot twist

liked by charlesleclerc, georgerussell, lewishamilton and 567,379 others

y/nleclerc It’s Mrs. Leclerc 🫷🏻

view comments

georgerussell * it will be

georgerussell Y/N THE USERNAME STILL HAS SOME TIME

charlesleclerc not for long 🤷🏻‍♂️

georgerussell she is still a russell 💪🏻

charlesleclerc do i smell jealousy ?

landonorris he is sulking about the idea of y/n getting married

maxverstappen1 now lando mentioned it, he is crying

lewishamilton now y/n is calling him and he is trying to act all ok

mercedesomg and now he is crying in front of me

georgerussell you all didn’t have to expose me like that

lilihye so happy for you both !!!

liked by y/nleclerc

arthurleclerc welcome to the fam sis!

liked by y/nleclerc

lewishamilton you grew up so fast, even i have tears in my eyes

y/nleclerc i will always be your little kid ❤️

comments on this post have been restricted

liked by lewishamilton, charlesleclerc, georgerussell snd 764,928 others

y/nleclerc To the brother I got from my mother and the one I got from Toto ( quite literally ), just so you both know, I will always be your little kid. Thank you for being there for me and giving me the reassurance that despite the numerous pranks snd fights, I can always to come to you both with crying eyes or my yapping mouth and you would always welcome me with a warm hug. Georgey, I grew up with you and I know I never say this much but I love you very much and am very proud of you, from your first podium in karting to your first win F1. Lewis, I first met you in 2019 when I was just a teenager and the first thing I asked you was for the picture ( I was meeting a f1 world champion, ofc I had to get a picture) but I didn’t know then that half my gallery would be filled with our pictures. Thank you for always being there like a brother, like a friend, like a mentor and like a punching bag ( that’s a story for another day ).

To both my brothers, I love you and just changing my surname won’t take me away from you ❤️ and you both know Charles pretty well, so if we have a fight, you both surely know who to run over 🫶🏻

comments on this post have been restricted

[cleo-fox]

Close Quarters

Part 2 of 2

(Part 1)

Summary: The thrilling conclusion to Part 1.

Pairing: Loki x Fem Reader

Warnings: Smut, 18+ (Minors DNI), dirty talk, praise kink, fingering, elevator sex, a hint of dom/sub, Dom Loki, Reader gets a little bratty, little bit of a sir kink, cunnilingus, blow jobs, filth.

A/N: I know I usually choose a Loki GIF but Thomas Sharpe seemed…more appropriate. I’ve got a couple more one shots with these idiots, so if you want to see more, lemme know.

Mercifully, the hallway is empty.

You imagine that your exit from the elevator looks as scandalous as what happened inside it. You are draped in Loki’s arms, still out of breath and a little glassy eyed from the two earth shattering orgasms that he’d given you only minutes prior. In contrast, Loki looks relatively put together and intently focused, like there’s nothing more important on this earth than getting you both back to your suite as quickly as possible. That thought gives you a bit of a thrill—the idea of you wanting him is not necessarily new or unusual, but the idea that he might want you just as much is utterly thrilling.

It occurs to you that you’re in rather close proximity to his neck and it seems like a shame to let that opportunity go to waste. You press your lips against the pulse point in his throat and lazily make your way along his jaw. His breath hitches when you catch his earlobe between your teeth.

“Are you trying to ensure that I take you in the hallway, Mrs. Pine?” he says, his voice dropping deep.

“I won’t be able to scream for you in the hallway,” you breathe into his ear, “and I kinda think you want that.”

“Minx,” he growls, picking up his pace just slightly as you resume kissing his neck.

“I take it that means I’m right,” you say. “Or that I’m in for it when we get back to the room.”

He chuckles. “Oh, it’s both, darling.”

You shiver and nip at his earlobe once more.

Loki drops the glamor as soon as the door to your room shuts behind you and while you like the cropped blond hair of Jonathan Pine, there is something about his natural long, dark locks that drives you wild.

“Let’s me make two things clear, Agent,” he says as he carries you into the bedroom. “First: there are no covers in here; I want you screaming my name when you come. Second—” he sets you down at the foot of the bed. “—I want to taste your pretty cunt.”

Heat and tension coil in your hips. “I can agree to both of those things.”

“Good. Undress.”

He watches as you slowly strip off your swimsuit, his eyes greedy and hungry. Once you’re completely naked, he gives himself a moment to look you over in full, unconsciously licking his lips when his gaze falls on your breasts and hips, his eyes devouring every inch of you. Finally, he nods at the foot of the bed. “Sit.”

You sit down on the bed and he begins unbuttoning his shirt. He takes his time and you watch, enraptured by the slow reveal of his well-muscled chest and taut, flat stomach. The shirt is discarded on the floor with your swimsuit. He undoes his belt, then the button and zip on his shorts.

He’s wearing black boxer briefs, which surprises you—you had assumed that his preference was likely to go commando. But honestly, the boxer briefs are so fitted that the effect is essentially the same: they cling to every dip and swell and leave absolutely nothing to the imagination. The material is taut across his thighs and his cock strains hard at the fabric. If pressed, you could probably create a reasonably accurate sketch based on this view alone.

You don’t have terribly long to contemplate this, though—he kneels in front of you, pulling you in for a slow kiss, his large hands cupping your breasts. His kiss is thorough and sensual, but the addition of his hands kneading your breasts and gently teasing and pinching the sensitive skin of your nipples may actually send you into the stratosphere.

And then he lowers his mouth to your breast and you lose the ability to form coherent thoughts. He strokes his tongue lazily on your nipple in slow circles, lightly teasing the hardened bud with his teeth and bringing another flood of slick arousal to your cunt. Your hips rock fruitlessly against nothing, seeking friction to ease the throbbing pulse of your clit.

You sigh, letting your eyes close and your head tip back, your fingers tangling in his hair. After a moment, you reach for his free hand and guide it between your legs. His fingers dip between your legs, collecting your slickness and gently rolling against your clit.

You moan and he draws back, eyes dark. “Lie back,” he says softly.

You recline on the bed and his focus shifts to you spread out before him. “Lovely,” he says. He is being sincere—and there’s a power in that that thrills you, that sends even more heat and slick to your aching cunt.

When he’s looked his fill, he brings both of your legs over his broad shoulders. He lowers his head to your cunt slowly, first dipping down to inhale your scent and then with one wicked grin, slipping the warm blade of his tongue between your folds.

Your exhale is shaky and turns into a soft whine in the back of your throat as he licks a long, broad stripe from your entrance up to your clit.

“Fuck, Loki.” His name falls from your lips unbidden. You prop yourself up on your elbows and drink in the sight of him between your legs, head bowed like he is worshiping at the most sacred and solemn altar.

In the elevator, he was determined to make you come as quickly as possible; now, though, in the privacy of your room, he seems intent on taking his time and building you up achingly slowly. His tongue laves over your clit at a leisurely pace, teasing and tasting and sucking until he finds the rhythm and movement that makes you try to press your quaking thighs together because it feels so incredible. He gently presses your legs back open, keeping you spread and fully at the mercy of the rolling waves of pleasure that his mouth is creating. One of his long and elegant fingers slides inside of you and curls, pressing against that sweet, soft spot that makes your hips buck and your eyes roll to the back of your head.

When a second finger joins the first a few minutes later, you know that it won’t be much longer. Loki looks up at you, lust-glazed eyes glittering like he knows that too.

You approach the edge slowly, your breath coming in rolling gasps, your hands gripping his hair. He watches you, his gaze both hungry and mischievous. You bite your lip, breath stuttering as you furrow your brow against that final ascent.

And then the tension finally snaps and your head tips back as you tumble off the edge and into your climax, your free fall as decadent and shiver-inducing as the beautifully slow buildup.

You don’t manage to gasp his name because the concept of words has fled you entirely and the only sound that escapes your lips is a sharp cry. From the glint in his eye and the low groan of approval offered against your clit, Loki doesn’t seem to mind at all.

The aftershocks roll through you in rippling waves that make your toes curl and it takes you a moment to catch your breath.

“I confess, I’m quite tempted to stay here all night,” says Loki, placing a gentle kiss on your clit. “You have the sweetest cunt.”

“I bet you say that to all the girls,” you say, your words slurred with pleasure.

“Hardly.” He licks you very slowly from your entrance to your clit and you sigh, running your fingers through his hair. He repeats the same circuit twice more.

“In fact,” he murmurs, placing another kiss on your clit, “I think I may need another taste.” Another lingering kiss, his tongue teasing your entrance. You suck in a shuddering breath.

“One more.” Another long stroke of his tongue and you shiver again.

“Darling, I’m so sorry—” a quick kiss to your clit, “—but I think I’m going to have to make you come again. I'm simply famished.”

Your back arches and you moan as his mouth once again envelopes your clit and his fingers slide back inside you, curling into that soft, sweet spot. You’re a little sensitive, but he’s moving with such achingly perfect precision that you can already feel another orgasm starting to build in your hips.

The ascent is much quicker this time, and you soon find yourself whimpering and panting, your hands tangling again in his hair. He groans against you and you swear you feel the vibrations shimmer all along your aching core.

“Please,” you moan. “Please. I’m so close. Please.”

He lets you ride the edge for a little bit longer, despite your pleas and your iron grip on his hair. But after a minute or so, he seems to take pity on you and he increases his pace just slightly. Your orgasm blossoms in your hips, your cunt clamping down on his fingers as you moan his name to the ceiling.

“That’s my good girl,” he purrs a moment later, as his fingers coax you through the aftershocks. He looks you over, licking his lips. “You’re gorgeous like this, you know,” he says, eyes dragging greedily over your body. “Naked and utterly fucked out. Perfection.”

You shiver and slowly convince your loose muscles to allow you to sit up. “I don’t think you can say I’m fucked out if you haven’t actually fucked me.”

His eyebrow arches, “Is that so?”

You scoot to the edge of the bed so that you can run your hands over his firm chest. You press a kiss just above his belly button, tongue flicking out briefly against his skin. “Seems reasonable to me.”

“Do you want me to fuck you, Agent?” he says, his voice dropping low.

“I mean, that’s what I was hinting at, yes,” you say.

His eyes are hooded as he gives you a sly, calculating smile. “But do you deserve to be fucked, Agent?”

Feeling a little bold, you place your palm flat against the substantial bulge in his boxer briefs, running your hand along the hard, thick length of him. Fuck, he’s big. “Yes,” you say.

“I’m not so sure about that,” he says, his expression and voice deliciously stern despite your hand on his cock. “You’ve been quite pert. Disobedient. Mouthy.”

You think you have an idea where this is going. “So am I getting punished or begging for you to forgive me?” you ask with a coy smile.

The hunger and delight in his gaze makes you ache. “Let’s see what your smart mouth can do to my cock and maybe then I’ll consider fucking you.”

You lick your lips and trace your fingertips along the sharp lines of his Adonis belt, pausing at the waistband of his boxer briefs. You hook your fingertips under the elastic and pull them down.

His cock springs free as the fabric falls to the floor. Between sitting on his lap and the unsubtle nature of the boxer briefs, you knew he was long and thick, but you’re still not fully prepared to experience the full effect of seeing his cock be hard and ready for you.

“Fuck,” you breathe. You take a moment to admire him, despite the fact that you know it’s likely only inflating his ego. 

“Do you want me, Agent?” he drawls with a lazy smile. “Do you want my cock?”

“I think you know the answer to that,” you say. “In fact, I’m certain you do.”

“Perhaps I like hearing you say it,” he says, bringing one hand up to stroke your cheek. “Would that be such a terrible thing?”

Impulsively, you get to your feet and pull him into a kiss. You can still taste yourself on him—salty and a little sweet.

“You like hearing me talk about how I want you?” you say, pressing your hips against his.

“Very much.” His voice is a low purr and you shiver in his arms.

“I’m aching for you to fill me,” you murmur, leaning in to kiss him. “I’m dripping just thinking about it.” You nip at his lower lip and he groans against your mouth. “But first, I want to get on my knees and worship your perfect cock with my mouth.”

There's a low, pleased rumble deep in his chest and you shiver as you draw away. “Sit down.”

He sits down on the foot of the bed and you position yourself in front of him, standing between his spread thighs and lowering yourself to your knees. You run your hands up his thighs, lightly dragging your fingernails along his skin, enjoying the slight hitch in his breath. You kiss the inside of his left knee and slowly make your way up the inside of his left thigh, dragging your tongue along his skin every so often. You continue this all the way up to the crease where his thigh meets his hip, close enough that he can feel the heat of your breath on his beautiful cock.

And then you lean back and begin the same process again on his right leg.

“What,” he says, his voice going deep and dark, “did I say about playing games, Agent?”

You tilt your head to look up at him. He’s staring down at you with a stern look that makes your cunt clench.

“You know, I came so hard earlier, I can’t quite recall,” you say, making your eyes as wide and innocent as you can.

“And if you want to come again tonight, you’ll find a way to remember,” he says. He’s stern and authoritative, and it’s ridiculously hot. “Now put that smart mouth to work on my cock,” he growls.

“Yes, sir.” The phrase just sort of slips out, but the way it makes your cunt ache and his eyes glitter is absolutely delicious.

“Oh, I like those manners, pet,” he purrs. “I want to hear more of that.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you say, pausing to lick your lips, “sir.”

“Good girl.”

His cock is flushed and so hard it presses up against his stomach. You wrap one hand around his shaft and you suck in a breath when your fingers don’t quite meet. He’s huge and the thought of having him inside of you makes you shiver and ache in anticipation.

You stroke him once and lower your mouth to the tip of his cock, placing gentle, closed mouth kisses on it.

He tolerates this for about thirty seconds.

“Agent.” His voice is laced with warning. “I won’t warn you again.”

Your lips curl into a slight smile and you flick your tongue against the tip of his cock, savoring the sharp tang of his pre-come. His eyes glitter down at you, still watching, waiting for you to disobey him.

“Am I not allowed to savor this experience?” you ask, intentionally licking your lips.

“I would urge you to consider that only good girls get to come on my cock, darling,” he says, his voice going dark and deliciously stern. “Choose your next moves wisely.”

The reality is that you desperately want to come on his cock and you wouldn’t put it past him to deny you. So, you offer him a sly smirk before you slowly begin to lick the tip of his cock, gradually opening your lips and bringing him into your mouth.

He groans softly. “You just need a firm hand, don’t you?” he says as you begin to move your head, stroking his shaft in a slow rhythm. His fingers card through your hair as he leans back on one hand, allowing himself to relax a little. “Or perhaps it’s that you want my cock more than you want to be a brat.”

You look up at him and raise an eyebrow. He’s not wrong.

He laughs low in his throat. “Oh, I think I’m going to  have you taking my orders by the time the week is up.” He reaches out to stroke your cheek with his thumb. “You have such a needy little cunt and I rather think that will prove to be an advantage for me.”

Your instinct is to let out a low whine, but you also don’t want to give him the satisfaction. You can’t fully stop yourself from reacting, though, and a soft whimper makes its way out of your lips.

He catches this and smirks. “You like being mouthy and talking back, but I think you also crave a little discipline. Being told what to do gets you off, doesn’t it?”

This time, you do whine and he smiles down at you, eyes hooded. “That works out rather nicely,” he says, his voice dropping deep, “because I quite enjoy giving orders.”

You shiver and he notices, running his fingers through your hair.

“Filthy girl,” he purrs. “We’re going to have so much fun together.” He watches you for a minute, eyes hooded, lips slightly parted. “You’re gorgeous like this, too, you know,” he says. “On your knees with my cock in your mouth like a good girl. I could watch this for hours.” You glance up at him and catch his lazy smile. “Though,” he continues, “I suspect you’ll also look gorgeous riding my cock. Or perhaps spread out and tied to the bed.”

This image is too much for you: a high pitched whine makes its way out of your throat before you can think better of it.

“Oh, you like that idea?” he says, not sounding very surprised at all. “You like the thought of being bound and completely at my mercy?”

Another embarrassing whine escapes you before you can stop it.

“We’ll have to explore that some time this week,” he says. “Though I am starting to develop a rather lengthy list of things I want to do to you.”

Fuck. You are caught between wanting him to keep talking and wanting him to shut up so you stop making such embarrassing noises.

Admittedly, the idea of making him feel so good that you render him speechless is also incredibly appealing.

You suck just a little harder, cheeks hollowing as you start running your tongue along the underside of his shaft, swirling it on the tip as you come up.

His eyebrows draw together, his lips parting slightly. “Fuck. That’s it.”

You pick up your pace just a little and he groans, his hand going to grip your hair.

“Yes—just like that.” His grip tightens on your hair. “If your cunt is even half as good as your mouth—fuck, yes, right there—I’m going to have a hard time leaving this room this week.”

You hum against his cock and he groans, his hips starting to rock toward your mouth. “Do you like this?” he asks, his voice husky. “Do you like being on your knees for me?”

You moan against his cock, sucking harder.

“You do, don’t you?” he says, his voice a little unsteady. “Barely an hour and you’re already such a slut for my cock.”

You moan again, bobbing your head up and down his length.

“Such a good girl,” he purrs. “A bit of a brat to start, but I think I’m going to have to reward you for this. Your mouth is too fucking good.”

Another moan slips past your lips. He groans and is quiet for a minute or two, his hips rocking toward you.

His breath is coming in shaky gasps now. “I’m close, love,” he says, his fingers flexing in your hair. “I’m going to spill myself in your pretty mouth and then I’m going to fuck you into the mattress.”

You can’t help but moan, which seems to spur him on. His lips part and you can almost feel how close he is.

He makes the most beautiful noise as he comes, a low groan that seems to reverberate in your cunt as he empties himself into your mouth. You swallow his release greedily as you continue stroking him, your head moving up and down his length.

You pull off of him slowly, licking your lips and you look up at him, your mouth curling into a smirk. “So, was that a proper enough apology for you?” you ask.

He growls low in his chest, eyes opening to look down at you. “You are still far too pert for your own good,” he says. “I suspect I’m going to have to put you over my knee at some point this week. You need discipline.”

You suck in a deep breath as your cunt clenches at the possibility.

“But right now, I need to fuck you.” He gestures to the bed. “Get up here. Now.”

You don’t need any encouragement to follow this command, but the way that he delivers the order and the way his green eyes get all steely is enough for more slickness to collect between your legs. You clamber to your feet, but before you can even try getting on the bed, he’s pulling you to him and flipping you onto your back. He rolls on top of you, caging you in with his body, his impossibly hard cock throbbing against your stomach.

He kisses you, tongue pressing into your mouth, hungry and claiming. “Do you want me inside you?” he purrs against your lips. “Do you want me to fuck you?”

“I need you to fuck me,” you say, spreading your legs and tilting your pelvis up toward him. “I want you to claim me.”

His smile is sharp and he drags the tip of his cock along your cunt, coating himself in your slickness. “Still so fucking wet,” he growls.

“I told you I need you,” you murmur.

He lines himself up at your entrance and ever so slowly begins easing into you. He presses forward, inch by glorious inch, until his hips are flush against yours.

“Oh fuck,” you breathe. “You feel so good.”

He smiles and withdraws just an inch or two before pressing back in. You arch underneath him and let out a soft moan.

“How about that? Is that good?” he asks.

You moan and nod.

He repeats the action. “And this?”

You offer up another moan and he grins. He repeats the action again, clearly teasing you. “What about this one?”

“Loki, please—”

“What is it darling?”

You’re not quite sure if you want to kiss or slap that smirk right off his face.

“Please don’t stop, please—”

“Oh, you want me to keep doing this?” he says, his brow furrowing in mock confusion. “You should have said something.”

“Loki, please—”

He chuckles quietly and begins rocking his hips against yours in slow, shallow thrusts. You sigh and wrap your legs around his waist, meeting his mouth as he kisses you. You can tell he’s holding back, though.

“I’m not going to break,” you finally say, tilting your hips to rock with his. “I want more. I want you to fuck me.”

He kisses you hard and his thrusts lengthen and deepen, his pace increasing just a hair, and you cry out because he’s now hitting that soft, sweet spot and he feels even better.

“You’re taking me so well, darling,” he says. “This snug little cunt was made for my cock, wasn’t it?”

“Yes,” you breathe, arching your back. “Fuck, that’s so good.”

He wraps those long fingers around your ankles and brings your legs up so that they are draped over his shoulders, your body folded in half. He thrusts again and his cock presses even deeper, rubbing against that tender spot inside you. His thumb finds your clit and you whimper. Pressure is starting to build in your hips again.

“You’re getting close already, aren’t you?” he rasps, grinning at you like a devil. “I can feel you starting to tremble.”

You keen, your cunt clenching around his steadily thrusting cock.

“Are you going to be a good girl and come on my cock?” he growls.

You nod, words somewhere beyond you.

“I want you to soak my cock,” he purrs. “Let it all out. Scream for me.”

You feel yourself poised on the edge. So close.

“Come for me, darling, that’s it, let go, come for me, let me feel that sweet cunt milk me dry…”

You arch your back as your orgasm blossoms and unfurls. The sound that falls from your lips is a high pitched keening that would be Loki’s name, except there’s no space for anything besides this incredible feeling, his cock inside you, and the weight of him on top of you.

“Oh there you go, that’s it,” he murmurs. “You have the tightest, most exquisite cunt. I could fuck you for days.”

You moan, shuddering in the final throes, your cunt spasming around his thick cock. He withdraws for a moment and you moan at the loss, but he quickly flips you onto your stomach and slides right back inside you.

From this angle, his cock thrusts even deeper, pressing more directly against your G-spot. A few strokes in and it becomes glaringly apparent to you that you’re going to come again.

“You’re insatiable, aren’t you?” he pants, thrusting hard into you. “I can feel you starting to tremble already.”

You moan into the comforter, arching your back so he hits that spot again.

“Ah, ah, ah,” he scolds, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you up so your back is flush against his chest. “I want to hear every filthy little sound that you make. Every. Last. One.” He thrusts in time with those last three words and you moan.

“You love this, don’t you?” he growls, his hips thrusting hard. “You love me taking you from behind like a fucking animal.”

Your legs are shaking and you can feel your orgasm building. “Loki, I’m gonna come again,” you whimper.

“I know you are, sweet girl,” he growls. “I can feel your tight cunt trembling.” His free hand slides between your legs, fingers rolling over your clit in the same rhythm as his thrusting cock.

Your breath stutters and a low whine escapes your lips. You are deliciously close.

“Please.” Your voice is barely a gasp. You’re riding the very edge of that wave and it feels so good that you’re almost certain the oncoming climax couldn’t possibly feel better. Almost.

“Oh, you’re almost there, love, you can do it,” says Loki, his hand still moving with his hips. “You just need to let go.”

You whimper. You are almost there.

“Be my good girl and let go for me,” he rasps. “Come for me.”

It breaks quite suddenly, your whole body shuddering and your cunt clamping down hard on his cock as you come. The noise you make is animalistic, torn from somewhere deep in your chest.

“Fuck!” Loki is fucking you hard, hips pistoning against your ass. “So fucking tight, you’re like a vise when you come, fuck—” His speech gives way into either Asgardian or Old Norse—you’re not quite sure which, but the idea that you’ve made him feel good enough to abandon English is incredibly appealing.

You’re dreamily floating back down from your high when you hear him make that beautiful noise again, that low, deep groan that falls from his lips only when he comes. You feel his release flood your cunt, hot and thick, as his hips finally start to slow.

It’s another minute or two before he rolls off you, flopping down next to you on the bed. Before you even have a moment to miss him or the comforting weight of his body on yours, he’s wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you close.

You both lie there for a long moment, catching your breath.

You think back to your initial meeting with Fury, when you complained about being sent in with Loki. You’ve never been more pleased to be wrong in your entire life.

“So,” you say once you feel capable of speech, “you said you had some ideas for the rest of the week?”

If you thought his grin was devilish before, it’s nothing compared to what he looks like now as he pulls you on top of him.

“Darling,” he says, his voice dropping an octave. “I thought you’d never ask.”

[facioleeknow]

The art of pleasure ch.7

Docility ° Seungmin

When one girl in your class makes fun of you for being a virgin at a party, you are left distraught. It's only natural that you decide to whine about it to your best friend, Bang Chan; but he does more than lending a shoulder to cry on, he comes up with a solution. He and his 7 friends will help you and teach you all about the pleasure of the flesh. What could go wrong?

Genre: College AU, Smut 18+ ONLY wc:2.1k

Warnings: fraternity skz, experienced seungmin, inexperienced reader, public sex, talk of kinks, spitting, rough sex, pussy slaps, degradation (slightly), name calling, spitting, sort of public nudity, talks of safe word, dom! minnie, titty sucking, squirting

A/N: sorry for the delay guys, I hope you like this ;)

Turns out Felix's reward was pretty simple. After a damn good wipe down, that you both needed, you had found yourself in his bed, dress discarded. Your naked bodies pressed against each other and Felix's plush lips wrapped around your nipple, suckling to his heart's desire. The constant ministrations of his tongue spread a light pleasurable buzz throughout your body, but not strong enough to get you horny again. You were too spent for that, domming for the first time had taken a toll on you but you liked it, you would do it again.

“Hey, I heard the noises stop, are you done?” Christopher bursted through the door, making you jump in place. Felix whined at the movement but a small sweet ‘shh’ from you settled him back into his routine.

“You are unbelievable, Mr Bang,” you whispered with a scoff and motioned for him to stay quiet, you didn't want to disturb Felix after all.

“What? My best friend dommed for the first time and I wanted to know if she enjoyed it or not. Felix seems pretty out of it so I'd say you did a good job,” Chan craned his neck to look at the boy in your arms but you didn't miss his eyes lingering on your bare tits for more than a few seconds.

“Hyung,” Felix whined again, voice muffled.

“It's okay baby, don't worry about him,” you whispered with the sweetest voice you could muster, your lips pressed to his forehead. The sunshine boy sighed against you, his eyelids slowly drooping.

“Best friend? Ouch Chris, you saw me half naked, I thought we had something,” you half joked while you stroked the blonde's hair, the wispy locks tickled your chest.

“We could,” Chris fixed you on the spot with an intense gaze, you could feel your body get hotter and hotter until you had to look away, afraid you might explode. The silence in the room was thick.

“You need to talk to Seungmin, he wanted to clear up some things. I'll put his number in your phone and then leave you to rest.” Without saying anything, you turned your back to him and tried to focus your attention on Felix. His eyes were closed, his mouth still on your nipple and a bit of drool had escaped past his lips and on the curve of your breast. You didn't mind, it was cute. His breath was slow and rhythmic, and not long after your own eyes were starting to close.

When you woke up you were alone in bed, Felix had taken his usual spot at his gaming chair.

“Leaving me alone in bed after the moment we shared? Wow that's cold of you, Felix,” you joked. The chair spun quickly and the boy looked at you with big brown eyes.

“Oh sorry, Y/N, I just wanted to get in a quick match before you woke up.”

“Y/N? I thought it was Miss to you,” you giggled at his face, jaw slacked and cheeks on fire, “ I'm just joking, keep playing baby, don't worry about it.”

Your head hit the pillow again, Felix's bed was insanely comfortable and as much as you wanted to fall asleep again you should've texted Seungmin already.

You: 

Hey Seungmin, it's Y/N, Chris said you wanted to talk to me

Seungmin:

That's right, do you want to meet at the library near your dorm tomorrow at 9 pm? 

I know it's late but I prefer to do this in a public place but I still don't want any people listening to us

You: 

It works for me I'll see you tomorrow <3

Butterflies swarmed your stomach in excitement, you couldn't wait.

The following day, as soon as you stepped foot in the library, you could see him. You hated that particular establishment, it was bleak and cold and the chairs were uncomfortable, but with Seungmin sitting at the table at your right the room looked different; warm and soft and suddenly you wanted to study there all the time. His boyfriend look was no joke.

Seungmin looked up and you hastily moved to greet him, fortunately he didn't seem to have seen you ogling.

“Hey,” he smiled and your heart skipped a beat, his hand briefly squeezed yours, “sit down.”

You had never obeyed a man so fast in your entire life, he seemed to notice that.

“Did hyung tell you what we are going to do?” his voice was still soft but now extremely serious and you were starting to get a bit nervous.

“He only wrote ‘subbing’ on the list.”

“Yes, that's right. I asked you to come here to discuss some things we may try together,” he started looking inside his bag, “I made a list.”

“I have never done anything like this so I don't know how much I can answer.”

“That's okay just tell me if the idea seems nice to you and you want to try, if you don't like it while we do it then you say the safe word and we stop immediately.”

“Okay.”

His smile was reassuring, you had never seen him smile like that but you wouldn't mind seeing it again.

“Okay so what do you want our safe word to be?”

“Puppy,” you didn't even have to think about it, you had heard the guys call him that so many times that it came natural to you.

“Noted. Now I'm gonna list a couple of kinks I want to try and you can decide if you want to try them as well. Just tell me yes or no.”

“Got it.”

“Dirty talk, praise and degradation.”

“Yes.”

“Humiliation.”

“No.”

“Public intercourse.”

“Yes.”

“Slapping and spanking.”

“Yes.”

“Spitting.”

“Yes.”

“Rough intercourse.”

“Yes.”

“Partial public nudity.”

“Yes.”

“Edging.”

“Yes.”

“Okay, that's it, thank you for coming tonight.”

“It's fine,” you could barely talk, all this talking about kinks and sex had formed a damn slip and slide between your legs. 

Despite all of your wishes, Seungmin that night, only walked you to your dorm room and pressed a delicate kiss to your cheek with a promise to see you on the weekend. He wanted to take you to a karaoke room he liked and had requested you wear a skirt.

The weekend came way too quickly for your liking, you were ready and you knew that but this was truly something new and you were a bit nervous. Your sweaty palms smoothed down your skirt for the thousandth time. Earlier Seungmin had sent you a text that had made your heart and your vagine beat wildly.

Seungmin: 

We're gonna start as soon as I see you, I'm gonna be different than usual, is that alright?

You: 

That's okay. Should I call you daddy? Or sir?

Seungmin:

Minnie is fine, leave daddy for Chan hyung.

Wait for me outside if you can :)

Seungmin’s car was gorgeous but he was even more magnificent, you couldn't believe somebody with such an angel face had listen all those nasty kinks.

“Hey, Minnie,” you murmured when you entered the car. He didn't answer, instead his thumb gently caressed your cheek. 

“Are you gonna do what I ask like a good girl?” You nodded vigorously, your whole body felt on fire. 

“Take your panties off then, and give them to me.” 

In a flash, you had scrambled to flip up your skirt and then shove your panties down. Seungmin laughed meanly at your eagerness which made your pussy pulse happily. The boy behind the wheel grabbed the panties and without another word he stuffed them inside his pocket. 

The journey to the karaoke room was torturous, your thighs were pressed firmly to get some release but you didn't want to move because Seungmin had not given you permission to do so. 

The establishment in itself was beautiful, the owner was kind and escorted you to your room while chatting happily. The private room was spacious and modern, the dimmed and colored lights created a cool ambience.

As soon as your ass was on the soft cushion of the sofa, Seungmin was on you, his big hands digged into the plush of your thighs.

“I'm gonna touch you and I don't wanna hear you make any noise, I wanna sing. Got it?”

“Yes Minnie.” 

His fingers came in contact with your pussy roughly, his hand traveled down to your entrance to swipe around your wetness.

“Wet already? Are you a whore?”

“N-no,” keeping your cool while his hand kept busy between your legs was one of the hardest things you had ever done.

“I think you are.” With that he turned around and busied himself with the tablet; when a tune started to play and his angelic voice sounded in the room, you silently sighed, you could at least distract yourself a bit from the pleasure like that. 

Your hopes soon crumbled when his fingers passed from caressing and circling all over your pussy to roughly rubbing your clit. The only thing you could hear in the room was him and your eyes were glued on his magnificent figure, he seemed not a bit affected by what was going on between your legs and you soon found out you were into it, even a bit too much. Your legs started trembling, the pleasure started to build up quickly, your clit was extremely sensitive and Seungmin knew exactly what he was doing. Your heavy breath resounded in the whole room but Seungmin seemed to not mind. 

When your hips started bucking into his hand and your back arched off the couch, he pulled his hand away, he clearly did not want you to cum so quickly. 

He played a second song and the onslaught on your poor sensitive and swollen clit began again. But just how it began it ended, like before.

Seungmin kept teasing you and stimulating you for two more songs, at the fifth, you were gone with pleasure and ready to cry if you didn't cum any second. Your body felt heavy and boneless, his fingers felt too good. But you stayed quiet, you had to stay quiet, you wanted to be a good girl for him. Your date had other plans, you had behaved way too well for his liking. Just when the song was nearing his finish and your orgasm was approaching, Seungmin's fingers roughly pinched your little bundle of nerves.

“Minnie,” you squeaked, with wide eyes. His hand lifted and then roughly came back down. Slap. It stinged but the pain felt so good you could've cum from that alone.

“I told you to stay quiet,” he scoffed, the tablet flew to the other side of the couch and he roughly grabbed your wrist.

“On your knees.”

Your poor wobbly knees hit the ground hard, but you hastily moved to be in front of him.

“Open your mouth.” Seungmin's right hand enveloped your jaw and squeezed effectively squishing your cheeks and forcing you to open up.

“Swallow and then show me.” A thick wad of spit fell into your mouth after that and you moaned, you wanted more but you still closed your mouth and swallowed. When you open up again, Seungmin wasted no time in turning you around and pushing your head down on the coffee table in front of you so your pussy was glued to his crotch. The sound of his belt unbuckling, made your squirm on top of the cool glass. You wanted to see him.

“You better not move or I'll edge you for a week.” Your skirt got quickly flipped up and you felt his head push against your entrance. 

Your lover sheathed himself fully inside you and another song started to play, a love song. Fitting. Without giving you time to adjust he started a brutal pace, not even Han had pounded you this hard. The sound of your skin slapping and the squelch in your pussy resounded in the room, along with your desperate moans and pleas and your date's delicate grunts.

Seungmin's hand circled your hips and pressed against your clit. He resumed his brutal rubbing from before, your orgasm was approaching dangerously quickly. 

“You need to cum, I won't be able to last. This pussy is so slutty, it's sucking me in,” he paired his words with sharp, decise thrusts and you felt the coil in your belly snap. Clear liquid shot out of you and doused Seungmin's crotch. You had never cummed that hard in your entire life. 

Seungmin quickly pulled out of you and stripped his cock above your ass, thick white ropes of cum cascaded on your hot skin in intricate patterns. 

The music had stopped, the only thing heard in the room were both of your heavy breaths.

“I've never made anybody squirt, if I take you out on another date, would you let me do it again?”

@kflixnet

[ma1dita]

when the curtains close

a 'partners in crime' installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader prev -> love me dry | next -> asking for trouble words: 5.3k summary: (post-tlt) The one where you lose two people in the Labyrinth that day. All strings are cut. (Pollux, Annabeth, Percy, and Mr. D find out the biggest difference between you and Luke.) (Luke Castellan x fem!Dionysus!reader) a/n: yeah to me this fic sounds and feels like that tiktok of the girl humming to her microwave. depictions of the titular battle of the labyrinth at CHB, some blood/gore, death & grief. the usual. you forced me to by lizzy mcalpine. references to cat on a hot tin roof by tennessee williams if you squint (posted 5/14/24)

—

The first time Pollux has a panic attack, time seems to stop and the world keeps moving on without him.

He’s reminded of a time when you rambled on about how anxiety takes possession of the senses like a moment frozen in a snapshot meant for you to identify. In the memory, you had your feet kicked up on the dash flipping through a DSM-5 while he and Castor took turns speeding up and down Farm Road (totally normal older sister behavior from you, and when a cop pulled you over, the three of you narrowly escaped a ticket by talking in riddles and godly smoke that smelled like grapes). Pollux still remembers the sound of laughter in the car blending like three different chords to an archaic melody (or squawking crows in the strawberry fields)— the bond between you three laid out before time knew limits and was always meant to be.

It’s still his favorite song. You’re their favorite (and only) sister, they love to joke. These are facts that will never change.

“You two have each other, and well, I’ve got this,” you had said, the Zippo flicking open and closed against your thumb in the blossoming darkness of the car. Pink and purple rays of waning light blanketed the old hatchback as it steadily made its way back towards Half-Blood Hill, comfortable silence shared in the way only siblings can stand to be quiet—when there are no words needed to get a point across. But you’ve always set yourself apart from the pack, not needing anyone like how they need each other.

Not since Luke left, at least. The growing distance between you three since your untimely resignation from camp was proof enough. Pollux’s eyes met Castor’s in the rearview mirror as they both noticed your sad smile. His brother’s voice broke through the silence then, having always been the one blunt enough to say what was on his mind, “You’ve got us too if you let us see you more often.” Your fidgeting stops.

“It’s not you two, it’s just hard to be back here sometimes. I see things for what they used to be instead of how they really are now. Now it’s just… it has to be all business.”

Pollux cracked a smile, “S’what you get for growing up. Soon we’ll just be annoying voices in your head like you are to us.” Shutting your textbook, you turned to look at them from the passenger seat, eyes that match theirs darting between their blond heads, “All of us have to grow up eventually. Except maybe you two— I prefer you in my nightmares like the kids from The Shining. Whenever you get sick of Dad, come see me. Gods know that camp deserves a break from the two of you too.” Your knuckles knocked against both of their heads affectionately as he put the car in park, “My built-in bodyguards, huh? Always looking out for me.”

All words and meaning escape Pollux now as he stands in the greenery of the North Woods with battle gear ill-fitted to his large frame. It’s the first siege he’s ever taken part in, the first time he’s had to use battle strategies outside of Capture the Flag and the first time he’s slashed his way through monsters and demigods with the intent to try and kill or be killed. Sword and Shield could have never prepared any of them for this—as his eyes meet Castor’s and then yours with all of you thinking the same thing, the three of you join the sea of iridescent orange through mind-numbing black moving like a sharp three-pronged sword.

This type of stuff isn’t typical for him, he thinks. He and Castor are used to being comedic relief— being the source of laughs and juice boxes for pesky little campers instead of facing the real world outside the boundaries of the Mist. Perhaps your father babied them to make up for the time he lost with you, but there’s a moment where he wonders how being kept soft will keep him alive in a world as harsh as this one.

Childlike innocence is ripped away from them in the bubble they’ve inhabited until this moment. Home is now a warzone and like lambs set up for slaughter, the twins both turn to look at you as a shuddering gasp leaves your mouth at the carnage in your surroundings, monster blood and fallen friends and enemies at your feet. Breaking away from formation to take a deep breath, he looks at the sky and wonders where your father is, but smoke and soot fill his lungs and he coughs desperately for a breath of fresh air.

Pollux thinks he must have stopped breathing before Castor took his last breath. It wasn’t supposed to be a competition, but sometimes life was just funny like that.

5, 4, 3, 2, 1.

Just like you told him.

Castor was always the more manic one while Pollux knew how to endure. Children of Dionysus are forced to befriend insanity before it makes an enemy out of them—twisting the ugly into what’s real and creating something beautiful out of the deranged. You’ve shown the boys how you detach from emotion by recognizing the details—separating fact and fiction, a methodical process only describable by the blood that runs through your veins. Pollux doesn’t know where to start—everything happens so fast but it plays out in front of him like someone put the pieces together to a stop-motion animation.

He sees Castor’s sword fall to the ground when he gets slashed on the forearm and sees him get clubbed over the head with a metal weapon he’s only seen bad renditions forged for theater practices and hanging on the walls of the armory. Castor falls first to his knees, and then into the dirt with a thud. He never knew there could be that much blood coming out of a person, much less a mirror image of himself. Pollux sees your face come into his line of vision, deep maroon splatters on your face glittering with hints of ichor and then you’re moving because he can’t. The enemy is coming back for him now, and for a moment he wonders if Castor will be mad if he lets him. He sees you turn in an instant, swinging your sword down on the neck of the aggressor, a teenager not much older than he and his brother are—were. It’s funny how his brain immediately makes the switch to past tense, and how he can’t stop thinking about how he’ll now and forever be older than his twin. Pollux then sees you catch the body of the boy you just killed as life seeps out of him slower than it did for Castor.

It doesn’t make him feel any better, though.

His knees hit the ground next to his twin, touching the sludge of dirt soft like quicksand and moist with what he hopes is not blood, but Pollux is not quite sure of what else there is to hope for. His fist is wrapped around Castor’s shirtsleeve, touching faded orange and sweat as he holds on for dear life. Maybe if he tries hard enough his soul will still be intertwined with his. Your hand touches his shoulder, five fingers reaching out to brush the back of his neck and the feeling of your skin helps him refocus a bit, even if you’re saying something he can’t make out. Then the metal of your Zippo lighter feels cool to the touch within his palm and he knows what he needs to do.

The battle isn’t over, but for the three of you, everything stops here. There is no going forward without your brother. You were never meant to be children of war.

Pollux hears the sound of his heartbeat thundering through his ears, blood rushing through his veins and can’t help but notice the silence amid the chaos. There are no words fit for this—and even if there were, Castor and you were always the more talkative ones. He hears the spark of the purple flame between his fingers, blowing the smoke over him and his brother’s body, and their father’s powers blanket them like how you used to tuck them into bed, warm and safe. This is what your family is—unconventional and unending even in different realms of existence. And then Grover’s scream of panic echoes through the air and everyone hears that. Hysteria ensues as monsters and demigods alike run amok, and Pollux realizes he’s stopped shaking.

In his father’s domain, he will always find comfort.

You stand above him now directing campers calmly with a free hand—a brewing storm crackling underneath your skin that he now understands. Hidden by the illusion of smoke, Pollux’s tired bones rest alongside his brother’s dead ones— together as they always were meant to be.

The three of you together, his little family—that is a fact he hoped would never change.

The smell of grapes envelops him as he leans his forehead against your muddy leg… when did the battle end? It almost masks the scent of death that rips through the air as your hand brushes through his sandy hair. Pollux stinks of sweat and you stifle a laugh as you see him smell his armpit. You three were always the same type of fucked up. He doesn’t look down at Castor laid across his lap but knows he would’ve found it funny too. Ignorance of reality even for a moment serves as a comfort. Purple meets purple as he looks up at you with a smile that doesn’t fit his face anymore and he croaks, “Wonder what dad would say about our first battle…”

Glory was never meant to be this bittersweet—it tastes like blood in his mouth until he wipes it away from his cheek and realizes it’s Castor’s. In a way, it’s his too, everything about him and within him is exactly the same down to the star stuff the fates wove them from.

“I’ll be the one to tell him. You take care of Castor,” you answer, as if there’s anything else he would want to do and then he realizes you’re crying— and he’s seeing all of the pieces put together in front of him in this photograph in his mind.

Pollux blinks slowly.

Suddenly the image he has of you is more defined— there is new meaning to the sadness you could never shake off all these years, and he is too young to lose his greatest love, which makes him realize then that so were you.

How long does this have to go on? he wonders, grabbing onto your hand with an eagerness only comparable to the feeling he got when you and Luke whisked him and Castor away from Florida all those years ago. This punishment of living while half of his soul does not—what is he supposed to do next? This was supposed to be the safe place. There is nowhere left to run. His thumb rubs circles into the back of your shaking blood-soaked hand, a secret within the smoke.

Pollux thinks there will always be a part of him frozen in time now, a memory of this day hung up in his mind like a portrait as he holds Castor’s cold hand in his warm one.

—

Annabeth finds you in the middle of the strawberry fields before the sun sets. She knows you won’t be sleeping tonight, not if you can fight it— not when there’s so much to do. You’ve long grown out of your ripped-up and tie-dyed camp shirts, and the one slung on your frame is newly pressed and starchy from the storage room of the Big House, still stiff against your freshly washed skin. When she’s close enough to touch you, you’ve been scrubbed clean of today.

She doesn’t have to be a daughter of Athena to know that you know that she’s there even if you can’t see her, but for once she feels like she has to hide. For once, Annabeth Chase doesn’t know what to say. How can she explain the feeling of guilt that coils around her brain like barbed wire—how can she even begin to apologize for the thing wearing her brother’s skin, knowing that it killed yours? For once, her hubris is crushed by the sinking feeling of humiliation.

“Was your first quest all you thought it would be, Annie?”

As she takes her navy cap off, silver braided strands around her face wave in the wind as a reminder of what Luke put her through. Though as she looks at you now with your berry-stained fingers plucking at stems one by one instead of using your powers, she thinks that your mind is elsewhere—anywhere but here, where everything is a painful reminder of your five years as a camper.

Five years with Luke.

Mourning him isn’t a new feeling for either of you, even though he comes in and out of your lives like a poltergeist you want to bash across the head, just always out of reach. But he’s a constant, even when he’s not here and he’s what binds you two together as you huddle hidden away from the rest of camp.

“He did this for you.”

It’s not a question, more so a fact out of Annie’s mouth when you finally meet her eyes and sigh, “Luke’s always had a way going about things. The most stubborn man to ever live.” You toss another strawberry into the crate at your feet. No one’s working right now, trying to tend to the injured and the dead. Everyone’s doing their best to chase away the nightmares that are bound to come, and she knows you’ll be making rounds with her on the night shift to ease everyone’s anxieties. But there’s a thought so strong it makes her head hurt, bursting at the seams until she can’t stop with her last-ditch effort to fix her found family.

“Maybe if we find him, we can save—”

“He’s been out of time for a while now, Annabeth. We both knew that,” you say, voice firm and unwavering. You’ve never sounded so monotone before, and it hits her as her mouth falls agape, “You’re giving up on him? Why… why would you give up on him?” Anger courses through her veins like fire and she’s mad that she’s at the center of this prophecy, of Hermes’s anger for his doomed son who will love you until the ends of the earth.

And what of her?

What of the hope she has in happy endings, how is it that you’re so damn calm? Annabeth kicks at the crate, strawberries rolling out in different directions and your jaw tightens as you let her be petulant, let her scream and yell until her inner child can catch up with the reality of the world around you.

“How could you?”

Your name echoes as she repeats it, grabbing at your shoulders and she’s as desperate as the truth that shakes her when you cup her face in your hands and wipe her tears.

“You’ve carried the weight of the world Annabeth– you know what it feels like to let it go. It’s time to let him go. There’s nothing I can do or say to fix this.”

Then it hits her that you knew of his fate and yet this was still the outcome. There was nothing else to do but watch him be puppeteered by a Titan and have to fight evil while it wears his face.

“He came to you after he saw me, didn’t he? Why didn’t you tell me? Why don’t you love him anymore?”

Because it wouldn’t have changed a thing, your eyes say. Instead, you grimace as you say, “Wouldn’t that be funny if it were true?” You lean down and pick up the fallen berries, some bruised and covered in dirt, and then you look at her again with teary eyes.

“Some prophecy huh? To lose a love to worse than death. What could we have done besides love him until the end?”

“He’s still in there. I know you know that too. Don’t talk about him like he’s not,” Annabeth insists, and a sad smile settles upon your face. It’s as gentle as the kiss of the breeze on your cheeks.

“I lost a brother today, Annie.”

“Me too.”

—

The funny thing about planning funerals is that with all the fuss it takes to organize one, you still find extra time on your hands. Barely getting any sleep and dragging yourself out of your dad’s bed, Pollux snores loudly next to you after hours of working on Castor’s shroud. Sleep wasn’t expected for either of you, but being unconscious was the only way of giving your brains a reprieve. The both of you have been busy doubling down on the preparations, even if it means Mr. D won’t be back in time while he’s out rallying gods for war.

The faster Castor’s earthly body is reconnected with his soul, the easier his trip will be into the Underworld, Nico says, and it’s funny how comforting the little emo pipsqueak can be when it comes to matters of death.

Perhaps this is the solace you bring to others with things you’re able to control—keeping camp afloat is something you were always good at, and helping every traumatized child that comes up to you for a juice box or a lullaby eases the guilt that follows you. Walking around Camp Half-Blood for more than a weekend made you feel like a judge, jury, and executioner. Though most of the campers from almost five years ago have either aged out, defected, or died—the ones that remain still look at you like you’re trouble.

Perhaps you always will be.

You even found yourself with the time to pray to Hermes last night for your brother’s safe passage into the afterlife, though if he’s angry at Annabeth, he must hate you for letting Luke go. Dinner didn’t seem appetizing enough anyway, so your whole plate was tossed into the hearth. You hope he likes chicken and rice.

But if a god can’t fight fate, what did he expect you to do?

The Iris Message to your dad last night was difficult, to say the least. Pollux’s hands shook as he continued to paint grape vines onto the silk cloth and the both of you didn’t say anything when your father started to cry. He out of all of the gods knows what it’s like to be tested to the limits—to endure pain and it’s a gift you and your brother are grateful for in times like these. Watching the god display the human emotion that either of you couldn’t as freely made it more real though.

There was also the interesting predicament of Chris Rodriguez being locked up in the basement of the Big House. Replacing screaming fits with serenity was almost second nature, and your gentle hands were what got Clarisse to truly respect you again for the first time in years. You could hear her sneak downstairs and talk to him while he slept (and the look in her eyes when you’d greet her with a cup of coffee made it known to you that she finally understands what it means to love someone who’s lost—two demigod daughters filled with a lot of rage and hurt were more alike than they think).

So the morning of your little brother’s funeral, you found yourself on the shoreline of Canoe Lake, setting your Redbull against the post of the dock and looking out onto the water.

You needed to do something with your hands. In the past few days, if your fingers were not occupied by pen and paper, a guitar, supply crates, or anything else that was helpful to others and all the more distracting for you, it’s been so easy to pick at any little thing. Perhaps it was your subconscious trying to reflect the damage on the inside, but today, your nail polish was chipped beyond belief. A small price to pay to not lose it without a signature boyish smile to ease your worries and amber eyes that could help you escape from the routine.

Running camp was always easier back then with your runaway boy and his scarred cheek.

How pathetic.

Crouched over in the sand, you plucked stones and filled your pockets with them. They knocked against each other — weighing your pockets down as you walked closer to the dock. Swinging your feet off the side and chucking them into the water, you could barely achieve a ripple.

It’s so quiet that you end up wondering if the rocks in your pockets would weigh you down to the bottom of the lake. It must be nice down there, to exist away from everything.

Bubbles surface slowly in front of you, then Percy’s head bobs in the water as he squints at you through sunlight.

“You chucked a rock at my head!”

A smile tugs at your lips, almost indiscernible but definitely there, “I was trying to skip them. Didn’t know you were doing water tricks in there, kid.” His grin gleams like freshwater pearls, pulling himself up onto the dock as his hand clasps yours. Shaking his sopping hair, Percy’s gangly frame sits next to yours like a wet bag of sand—all wrinkly and misshapen and sprinkling you with lakewater.

“Maybe next time don’t pick rocks the size of your fist. How many have you got in there? Your aim is scarily accurate,” he laughs and you huff and shake your head when his hand sticks into your pocket and takes out a few smooth ones to roll around in his hand. You mirror him, watching him skip a few stones into the water that reach a good distance before sinking into the depths of the lake.

There’s something sad about feeling comfortable to trauma dump on the teenage son of Poseidon, but with the way he grabs your arm at your third unsuccessful toss of a rock, you can’t do anything else but sigh.

“Why didn’t any of you call me, Percy?”

He was waiting for this question—it’s been banging around in his head since the beginning of Annabeth’s quest, and perhaps her talk with you yesterday didn’t go as expected so once again he’s left with the difficult part.

Things happen to turn out pretty difficult for him a lot, he's noticed.

Many things could have been made easier in the past few weeks: Ariadne being your stepmother and her blessing to you would’ve made the Labyrinth easier to navigate, and having another demigod to fight alongside him instead of a mortal girl would’ve been a plus too. But he looks at you with ocean eyes and a smaller smile that reminds you of how he looked at you when you dropped him off in Montauk the summer you met him and quit your head counselor job.

“You’ve already made a lot of difficult decisions. We weren’t sure if…”

The rotten wood beneath you creaks under your shifting weight as you turn to him, tucking your legs underneath your bottom.

“Didn’t think I could handle it?”

He shakes his head, “The opposite, actually. Annabeth has this notion that you’re the only one that can save him. You know, back on my first quest I met Luke’s dad and he told me something…”

You swallow instead of answering. There’s no way Percy is giving you Hermes’s advice right now. Somehow this feels like karmic retribution after years of spiting that asshole, and what he tells you next is more of a sign that it must be true.

“He said, ‘Do you know what that feels like? To be so close to someone you love knowing neither of you has any choice but to keep hurting each other?’ I didn’t get it then, but I do now.”

“With Luke and his mom?” you ask, picking at the remaining slivers of varnish on your thumbnail.

“With you and Luke. I didn’t call you, because… why would I want to see you hurt after everything?” Percy says this like it’s something he would do for everyone.

Perhaps it is, but the knot that forms in your throat feels as heavy as the boulder you almost sunk into his skull. He’s tall enough to lean your head against now, and you don’t mind the water spots that will form along the side of your funeral outfit. The shape of him it leaves will remind you of the little brother you gained through so much loss.

“Plus he has a new girlfriend. Absolute horse of a girl,” he jokes. It slips over your head but you still giggle, “I could’ve taken her.”

“I know, that was Grover’s worry. You’re prettier anyway…” Percy pauses, and then clears his throat, “You’ve always taken care of this place, y’know? Even after….I just think someone ought to take care of you.”

Your shoulder bumps against his as you finally skip a rock. It only bounces across the water twice and you think Percy might have had something to do with it, but you’re not bothered by the help this time around.

—

You wake up in the dark of night to see your dad looming in the doorway to his office. With drool and a post-it stuck to your cheek, he comes over to ruffle your hair in amicable silence.

“Hard at work or hardly working?” he chuckles, leaning over your shoulder to scan over the paperwork sorted into piles for him to sign from his absence.

“Hm. You wish,” you scoff, leaning against your arm as you look at him. He’s not in his usual eyesore of attire, wearing a clean-pressed suit with his hair slightly slicked back.

“You look good. The meeting went okay?”

“Grover will be fine. The Council of Cloven Elders? Not so much. Neither are the gods ready to take sides. Putting out little fires everywhere as we speak.”

The wheels of the office chair roll as you swing your feet, and if you both listen closely enough you can hear Pollux snoring upstairs. Chiron loved the earplugs you gave him.

Your father’s face smooths out a bit at the sight of you and the sound of his son’s breathing upstairs and he asks, “Are you? Good?”

A shrug slides off your shoulders, “How does one be good in a world like this one?”

A startling scream echoes off the walls of the Big House, rattling the floorboards from below as your father grimaces.

The work is never done for you two.

“Don’t look at me like that. It was worse when he first came here.”

“Don’t doubt it,” he mumbles, brushing lint off your shirt before he notices you’re donning neon orange. “Didn’t do laundry, princess?”

“Pollux and I haven’t gone back to our cabin since... I can wake him up if you—”

Mr. D shakes his head and goes to toss his body onto the couch against the window, shutting his eyes and taking a deep breath.

“Dad? Do you think Chris is a bad person?”

A beat passes and you think he may have fallen asleep, but then his voice sounds like gravel scraping up his throat.

“I don’t think anyone can be bad, kid. I think it is more often that people get lost. What Rodriguez needs is someone to take hold of him gently, and hand his life back to him—you…Clarisse… that’s what we’re giving him.”

Now you’re silent, staring at the dust on his name placard at the edge of the desk.

“Do you think otherwise?”

He calls your name again, and you look up like you’re about to lie to him but don’t have the energy to.

“Princess, do you think you’re a bad person?”

He stands up and walks around to your side of the desk, sitting on the edge so you have to look at him.

“I killed someone. During the battle. Didn’t even think twice about it, slashed his neck as soon as Castor went down and…” you sniff. “I kill monsters, Dad, not children. How does that make me any different?”

The last time blood was on your hands like this it was Luke’s in the Garden of Hesperides. All these years later you ended up being right— the only person you vowed to get bloody for is Luke Castellan, and now in a twisted turn of fate, you’ve bloodied your hands because of him.

“Because you did it for your brother. There are no other explanations needed.”

He sees the exhaustion in your eyes, the drop in your shoulders, but your dad also sees the strength in your bones that spans generations and he knows you and Pollux are strong because you are both his.

“Humans believe in life everlasting—glory, as some call it, but they’re too focused on achieving it on earth instead of enjoying what life has to offer,” he scoffs, “Everyone has the guts to die, but no one has the guts to truly live. How sad.”

“His name was Rowan. Son of Hecate. I taught him how to whistle the summer I left. This is all my fault, Dad,” you say shakily as he comes near and pulls you into his side. He shushes you but you relent.

“Luke’s killing all these people to fulfill a promise he made for me. I’m just fucking disgusted with myself for being the cause of it all. What good life can I deserve when wherever I go I leave a trail of blood?”

Love and addiction must be so alike; to know that to be sober you can’t indulge in the vice ever again—not only does it hurt you, but others around you. But through the years you’ve always kept the taste of his name in your mouth, the feeling of his skin under your fingertips, and the knowledge of why he’s destroying the world so he can make you a better one. Insanity stems from fighting for so long that you embrace the pain; feeling something so intensely that when it consumes you you’re able to walk out the other side and wear it as armor.

Not everyone is hardwired to persevere.

There are moments like a night like these where it would be easy to give up. Instead, you pour two glasses of whiskey you’ve conjured and hand one to your dad. You both sip on your drinks slowly, embracing the crawling feeling of the burn.

“Liquor is one way out and death is another,” your dad sighs blissfully. He almost looks rejuvenated by the alcohol he knows he’ll hear about from Zeus later, but perhaps the death of his son is a good enough pardon.

“For some of us, we don’t have to think about the answer.”

Mr. D grabs a pen off the desk and starts signing papers to do something with his hands, and then you speak again, “I think I’d rather die for people I love,” and your dad’s attention whips to your blank face staring at the moon outside the window. “Instead of killing for them. I’ve never been a good soldier, Dad.”

Mr. D looks at you thoughtfully and wonders where all the time has gone that you sit there in front of him with more knowledge than him at your mortal age before saying, “You’re my daughter. You’re a fighter. Death is for chumps anyway.”

He lifts you by the arm to try to usher you up the stairs but you stay in his office chair swatting his hands away.

“Got work to do, you and I. Not getting rid of me until it’s done.”

“When are you going home?” he asks, pulling up a chair next to yours.

“I am home.”

You don’t look up from the papers you were filing, stubbornness leaking through your voice.

“If there is a war coming, I want to be home as much as I can. I’m finishing my last semester and I’ll be here before and after classes. You can’t stop me, dad.”

And he knows that too.

There is no such thing as leaving Camp Half-Blood for you.

Never for too long. Your love for it is scattered everywhere campers can see.

—

In all these years, you never believed I loved you. And I did. I did so much. I did love you. I even loved your hate and your hardness. - Tennessee Williams