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golden-cherry · 2 days ago

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deal - cl16 (44/?)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it’s his apartment.

Chapter Summary: Let's get this party started!

Warnings: 18+ (mentions of previous smut), alcohol consumption, slight jealousy, a kiss

Word Count: 3.6k

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A/N: we love girls girls. happy Sunday to everyone! feedback is appreciated!

Your little heels click on the asphalt of the streets of Monaco as Kika and you walk towards the club, arms hooked and cheeks warm from the wine. Cold wind blows in your faces.

“I was so happy when Charles invited us to come with you,” Kika smiles and lays her head on your shoulder, which is certainly quite uncomfortable due to your uneven pace. But she doesn't seem to care.

You rest your cheek against her top of her head. "I didn't even know that you were coming tonight until a few hours ago," you say.

“He apparently only messaged Pierre today and asked,” the Portuguese woman says, lifting her head from your shoulder. "Very spontaneous. But all the better that it worked.”

You smile at her. "That's true.”

Together you turn a corner and immediately the club on the other side of the street catches your eye. Neon signs, which somehow don't fit with the rest of the city's atmosphere, draw attention to the building and the closer you get, the louder the music seems to get, penetrating through the walls. A few people are standing in front of the double doors, guarded by security guards dressed in black, discussing admission.

When you see the clipboards in the hands of the broad-built men, you stop abruptly, causing Kika to almost trip and bump into you.

“Are you okay? What's wrong?” she asks, looking at you in confusion.

Nervously, you nod in the direction of the club. ”They have clipboards.”

Kika looks at the bouncers and then back at you. “No shit, Sherlock. That's where the guest list is,” she replies and tries to pull you a little further. “Why are you stopping? Have you changed your mind? Don't you want to party?”

“Yes, I do,” you reply hesitantly. “But how do we get in there if they have a guest list?”

A grin spreads across Kika's beautiful face before she puts her arm around you and pushes you forward. “Do you really doubt that we'll get in?” she asks, and when she catches your nervous glance, she pulls you closer. “You were invited by a Formula 1 driver, querida. You're the last person who needs to worry.”

As you cross the street and stand behind the people who are still arguing with the bouncers, you realize how different your life seems to be now.

Ten days ago, you were worried about how you would pay your rent if you didn't find a job – and now you're spending nights on yachts, your best friend is a model and you're partying with Formula 1 drivers in Monaco's most chic clubs. And you're even living with one of them.

And you love him too.

The bouncers don't seem to be giving in, and the more unyielding they look, the more annoyed the men in their black suits appear. As people try to negotiate their entry and wave banknotes in their hands, the men look past them and nod to you.

Without hesitation, Kika pulls you through the crowd and comes to a stop in front of the entrance doors. She is about to open her mouth when one of the bouncers takes a step to the side and smiles at you. “Good evening, ladies,” he says in a deep voice, holding the door open for you. “Mr. Norris is expecting you.”

“Thank you very much,” Kika replies with a broad smile, quickly pulling you along behind her so that you can only say a quiet ‘thank you’ to the two men before the club's double doors close behind you and you are enveloped in dim light, warm air and music that gets louder with every step you take.

“See? That wasn't so hard,” your friend grins, and together you walk down a short hallway before entering a large room. To your left are a few seating areas on an ampore, some open and others roped off. To your right is a long bar stretching across the room, with lots of people already gathered around it. And right in front of you – there's the dance floor.

At the back is the DJ booth, currently manned by a woman who seems to know exactly what the crowd wants to hear. With precision and skill, she flows from one song to the next without you really noticing, and the audience is eating out of her hands.

“Hello, you two beauties,” someone suddenly says behind you, and when you turn around, you see Lando's face. He's wearing a white shirt, the top buttons casually undone so that part of his chest can be seen. With arms outstretched, he hugs Kika first before pulling you close and planting a kiss on your cheek. “How are you? How was Christmas?” he asks, taking each of your hands to pull you to the seating areas on the left. He briefly lets go of Kika's hand to untie one of the ribbons before letting you go ahead.

“It was great,” Kika replies and takes off her long jacket before dropping onto one of the dark couches. She crosses her legs. "But I think our girl here had the most fun," she grins, raising her eyebrows. You give her a dirty look.

Lando turns to you with raised eyebrows. ”Did you two fuck?”

“That's exactly what I asked!” Kika laughs and claps her hands joyfully.

You feel the heat rising to your face, and it's not because you're still wearing your coat. Tensioned, you take it off and lay it over the back of the couch. “We didn't,” you answer curtly and roll your eyes.

Kika and Lando exchange a meaningful look that you try to ignore.

“Where are the boys, anyway?“ the Brit finally asks, rubbing his hands together as if he can't wait to see his friends again.

“They dropped us off one street over so they could find a parking lot and so we wouldn't all be seen together,” Kika replies, reaching for the drinks menu on the small table in front of her. She begins to flip through it.

“Very good.” Lando turns to you. "Today, only guests are invited who I and Martin know personally and trust so much that no one has to worry about any photos getting out," he smiles, putting his arm around your shoulders.

You look up at him. ”Really?”

He nods. “So you don't need to worry. And neither does Charles.” He gently pulls you close before letting you go again. “So, girls. What can I get you to drink? Wine, cocktails, shots?”

“I'd like a strawberry margarita,” Kika replies, leaning back on the couch.

“A piña colada, please.”

“All right. I'll be right back.“ Without turning back to you, he leaves and heads towards the bar, where he is immediately greeted and hugged by a few people, while you first make yourselves comfortable in your seating area.

“Do you know this Martin guy?” you ask the Portuguese woman, who looks over at the crowd.

She nods briefly. “Martin is really nice. And he's a good DJ,” she replies, and you notice how her gaze sticks to the female DJ. “He just doesn't look as good as she does.”

You can't suppress a grin. ”He doesn't have to look good as a DJ, does he? He just has to be good at what he does.”

“That's right,” Kika agrees with you before turning to face you. She points with her thumb over her shoulder and towards the DJ booth. ”But she's definitely hotter.”

Before you can say anything, Lando returns with a tray and sets it down in front of you. Your two cocktails and more glasses are on it, but there are also small shot glasses filled with red liquid. He hands you your drinks.

“There we are,” Pierre greets all of you and briefly embraces Lando. Charles is standing behind him and smiles at you.

“I'm glad you all made it,” the Brit smiles, giving the Monegasque a quick hug before everyone sits down.

Charles takes a seat next to you, so close that he can press his leg against yours. “Hi,” he smiles gently. “Everything okay?” You return his smile and nod before taking a sip of your cocktail. His gaze flickers briefly from your eyes to your lips, which wrap around the straw. “Piña Colada?”

“Mh-hmm.” You hold the straw out to him and watch as he takes a sip. "Do you like it?”

“I do,’ he admits. ”But somehow I prefer the Nightmare Colada.”

Warmth rises to your cheeks at his words and the thought of the night when you got drunk on his boat. How you poured out your hearts.

“To a great evening,” Lando raises his voice and hands everyone a shot glass. Carefully, each of you takes one, careful not to spill any of the red liquid. ”Cheers!”

The drinks that make their way to your table over the next two hours taste so fantastically good that Kika and you doubt that there is much alcohol in them. The cocktails taste fantastic and the music puts everyone in a good mood, so you leave your table and hit the dance floor.

Your group dances to the beat that the DJ is playing like tipsy teenagers. Kika and you hold hands and dance together, causing the boys' eyes to almost pop out of their heads. The Portuguese woman presses her front against yours, her hands on your hips while yours are on her shoulders. And when she leans forward with pouting lips, you can't help but press a friendly kiss on her lips. You hear someone whistle – it's definitely Pierre – and when you both pull away from each other, you have to laugh.

Kika puts her arm around your shoulders and the other around Charles. “I can't believe I kissed this beauty here before you did, Leclerc,” she grins.

Charles looks at you with rosy cheeks, but his words are directed at Kika. “Is she a good kisser?”

“The best kisser I ever had,” the brunette replies with a grin before letting go of you and throwing her arms around her boyfriend.

Charles and you look at each other uncertainly.

Well, why haven't you kissed each other yet?

The thought is haunting your mind, but you can't answer the question.

Doesn't Charles want to kiss you? You've definitely done things that are definitely not PG-rated. You can almost feel his spent between your thighs and his lips on your neck, the tip of his cock nudging against your clit and –

Why haven't you kissed each other?

The Monegasque seems to notice your thoughts, but before he can say anything, Kika grabs your hand and pulls you towards the bar. You lean against the counter and wait for one of the bartenders to notice you when your friend takes your hand.

“Is everything okay?” She asks, raising her eyebrows in concern.

“Why do you ask?” you reply with a counter question.

When a bartender reaches you, Kika orders your drinks. "I didn't want it to be weird between you and Charles. I'm sorry.”

You smile weakly at her and give her a quick hug. ’It's all right. We won't let this ruin our evening, okay?”

“You know you can always talk to me, right?” She asks, tilting her head. ‘You can call me day or night and I'll come to you. I promise.”

Your smile grows wider. "I'm already aware of that.”

“And I really love you, you know that?“ She puts her hands on your upper arms and hugs you tightly. Apparently, Kika gets emotional when she's drunk.

“I love you too,” you return her embrace, and when the bartender puts your drinks in front of you, you both toast.

“To the coolest girls, aka us,” she grins. As you both take a sip, someone taps her on the shoulder. Your best friend turns around and apparently she knows the young woman standing behind her, because she pulls her into a fleeting embrace before introducing you. ”Querida, this is Elena. She is also a model.”

In front of you stands a breathtaking beauty. With her brown hair, dark eyes and dark complexion, she looks as if she has just flown in from vacation. She is wearing a black and white dress that highlights her figure and accentuates exactly the right places to make her look flawless.

You smile at her and introduce yourself as well. “Nice to meet you,” you say and extend your hand, but Elena kisses you on the left and then on the right cheek.

“It's nice to meet you, too,” she replies with a smile before approaching you. ”Wait. Wipe below your eyebrows. You have some mascara on there.”

Without questioning her remark, you do as she says, and apparently it's good, because both women look at you with satisfaction afterwards. “Thank you,” you say. “That's very nice.”

Elena waves it off. ‘Don't worry. I'd want someone to tell me that too." She leans against the bar. ”You already have your drinks, right? Should I order shots for us?” she asks, but before either of you can answer, she is already talking to the bartender, who quickly prepares a cocktail and sets down three shot glasses in front of her. "Here you go," she says, handing each of you one of the glasses.

After you've clinked glasses and emptied the small glasses, Kika fishes her cell phone out of her purse. ”Should we take a picture? I'm already drunk, but I definitely want a few more, and I don't think they'll get any better as the evening goes on,” she giggles, tapping someone on the shoulder to take a photo of you. First one of Kika and you, and then one of the three of you.

“What's your name on Instagram?” Elena asks you, also digging out her phone so you can type your username into the search bar. When your profile pops up, she immediately clicks the follow button.

Your phone lights up and the notification pops up on the lock screen, and when you tap it, you confirm her request and follow her right back.

Her profile has a very aesthetic and artistic touch. Every picture is exactly where it should be. The colors all match and at the top of her biography is actually her full name: Elena Montpellier – one million followers – model at Bijou Management agency.

“I didn't know that Lando had invited you,” Kika says to Elena, who just shrugs.

“I'm here with friends,“ she replies as the three of you return to your seating area. "A friend of mine knows Martin and asked me if I wanted to come. And as if I'd stay at home when Martin is playing here in the club.”

Confused, you look from one beauty to the other. "So who is this Martin?” you ask hesitantly, afraid that Elena will laugh at you.

But she doesn't. Quite the opposite. She slides closer to you and tells you about Martin, who is apparently a world-famous DJ. On her cell phone, she shows you videos of his shows and the crowds in front of which he usually performs, but in none of the sequences can you see his face. But suddenly she puts her cell phone down and motions for you to look up. “Speak of the devil.”

Your men join you and, like you, they have someone new with them. The face looks incredibly familiar. He kisses each of the girls on the cheek before introducing himself to you. And then it clicks.

“Oh my God,” you gasp before he can say a word. ‘You're Martin Garrix.”

“That's me,’ he replies, visibly confused, glancing briefly at Lando, who puts his arm around your shoulder – skilfully ignoring Charles' scowl.

“My friend here hasn't been in this industry for very long,“ he explains, gently pulling you over to his side. "This is all still pretty new.”

Martin looks back at you from Lando. ’Then I'm glad you're here today,” he smiles. “How did you end up with these guys, if you don't mind me asking?”

You're about to open your mouth to answer him, but Charles is faster. “She's my best friend,” he replies, standing next to you, his arm around your waist. He glances at Lando, who quickly removes his arm from your shoulder and catches your uncertain glance.

“Okay, cool,” Martin simply replies. ”I still have about half an hour before I have to go to the desk. So, what's going on in your lives?”

While everyone is chatting, you hold back and watch. Pierre and Lando are talking, while Charles, Elena and Martin have moved closer together and the latter is showing something on his cell phone to the other two. You lean back into the couch and sip on your cocktail, Kika leaning on you.

“I'm sorry he introduced you as his best friend,” she says, only audible to you.

When you shrug, her head wobbles. “It's okay. I've made my peace with it,” you reply with a half-truth.

Of course, you would prefer to be more than just his best friend – after all, you share a bed and the images of his expression when he came and painted your thighs refuse to leave you – but if his friendship is all you get from him, then that's that.

“Please take care of yourself.” Kika raises her head and looks at you anxiously. ”I don't want you to get hurt. You've already been through so much.”

You gently press a kiss on her forehead. “I appreciate your concern.” Your gaze flickers over to Charles, who is now talking only to Elena. He shows her something on his phone and they both have to laugh. The woman leans forward a little to get a better look at the screen, but holds her neckline of the dress so that you can't see inside.

Charles eyes move from his screen to you, without looking at Elena once.

You smile at him, but before he can return it, the woman next to him says something and his attention is back to her, as if you weren't there. Maybe he just wants to be polite, after all, Pascale has taught him well and Charles is not one who just -

“Hi,” someone interrupts your train of thought and when you look up, Martin is standing in front of you. "I'm going to the DJ booth now and I thought you might like to join me," he suggests. ”As a kind of welcome and an apology for being so strange just now.”

You raise your eyebrows in wonder. “Actually, I should be the one to apologize. I'm not quite into the ‘famous people know other famous people’ thing yet. I'm sorry.”

Martin waves it off. “Don't worry. It takes some getting used to. But maybe it will help if you support me at the DJ booth.” He holds out his hand.

“I've never done this before. So I can't guarantee anything,” you smile, which makes him laugh.

“I'll show you everything. And if necessary, you can just stand next to me and look beautiful, but that shouldn't be a problem.“

“All right.” Without hesitation, you put your hand in his and he helps you to your feet. You take a quick glance at Kika, who grins at you and pushes the rest of your cocktail into your free hand, wishing you lots of fun.

Your eyes flicker over to Charles, whose eyes are already glued to you. He doesn't seem to notice Elena at all, she talks and talks and apparently shows him something without realizing that his attention is not on her right now. He looks from your face to your hand, which is still holding Martin's, so that he can guide you through the crowd in a moment.

It doesn't feel right to hold another man's hand, even if it's just for a moment. It should be Charles' hand holding yours. Charles' fingers entwined with yours. But Charles is sitting there with Elena, knee to knee.

“Are you okay?” Martin asks, looking from you to Charles, who can't take his eyes off the two of you.

You swallow and smile at him. “I'm fine.”

“Are you sure?” the DJ asks implausibly. “Charles looks at me as if he wants to kill me. You're just friends, aren't you?”

With your eyes fixed on Charles, you answer him. "Best friends," you correct him with the words of the Monegasque, before turning to Martin. ”Shall we?”

"With pleasure.”

As the two of you leave the seating area and you don't turn around to catch the eye of your best friend, Charles clenches his jaw.

He already knows the feeling that is welling up inside of him, but last time it was Lando who triggered it and he had to work on himself not to see the Brit as competition. Which is complete nonsense, because Charles knows that Lando would never come between the two of you, not after he called the Monegasque and put him in his place while he was in Italy.

And Charles knows that he has nothing to worry about. He is the man you go home with later. He is the man you share your bed with at night. He is the man who will later push up your dress and is allowed to touch you where you need him most.

He knows all of this. And yet there is nothing he can do about it, except feel increasingly jealous with every step you take away from him.

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc prompt #charles leclerc blurb #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc imagines #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc fanfiction #charles leclerc cute #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc x yn #charles leclerc x female reader #f1 smut #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 fic

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lomlhwa · 2 days ago

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scandal (l.c)

pairing: idol!reader x idol!chan

preview: you got into a dating scandal with another idol and chan is not happy. it should've been him, he's your actual boyfriend after all.

tags/warnings: fem reader, mentions of beomgyu and other idols, possessive chan, kisses galore, pet names (pretty, baby, my love, angel), oral (fem.receiving), holding hands while fucking, so much praise, monster cock chan, marking, did i say possessive?, unprotected penetration (wrap it before you tap it), creampie

trigger warnings: n/a

wc: 1.8k

song rec for this fic: obsession by exo

a/n: i tried making fake tweets + texts for this how did i do? also i just threw in random female idols to make a fake group lol

you sigh, putting your phone down and rubbing your temples. dating as an idol is so tiring and sometimes you honestly forget why you even try. but you love your boyfriend so much. beomgyu is your good friend and sometimes you fail to remember to be sneaky when hanging out. even small things like going out to eat together makes fans assume you’re madly in love. this isn’t the first time you’ve been roped into media with beomgyu and you’re certain it won’t be the last.

with your swift rise to fame, you’ve had many dating scandals in your time. what pisses chan off the most is the fact that it’s never been him that you’ve had a scandal with. you’ve gone out on many public dates before and no one has ever picked up on the fact that you’re together. he even kissed you in the view of a sasaeng one time and they didn’t notice. he wonders if it’s intentional on the media’s part or if they’re seriously just that oblivious.

you run your hand through your hair, trying to fathom why the general public knowing about your relationship is so important to him. everyone within the industry knows so why does everyone else have to? relationships can ruin idol reputations and he doesn’t seem to care. maybe it’s because you’re both already so big that he’s not worried? or he’s hoping your fans are just accepting enough to be okay with it?

your members come wandering into the living room and you’re quick to compose yourself. you don’t want them to know you’re having relationship problems again. “you okay, y/n?” minji asks you, concern spreading on her face. you nod and smile to the best of your abilities. “hmm, i don’t believe you but we have schedules so i’m not gonna push,” karina shakes her head before gesturing for you to follow the group out the door. you gather your things and do your best not to think about anything but the late night ahead of you.

___________________________________________

after a late night at dance practice you finally get the time to check your phone. you know chan had a fansign today so you decide to check on some of his fan accounts. you smile as you’re met with cute photos of him posing with gifts from fans. you find lots of updates on things he said as well. his current favorite movies, foods, tv shows and… songs. of course he mentions you. it’s cute that he listens to your music and likes to promote you to fans.

you jump as you realize sana is perched over your shoulder, reading your text messages. “he’s gonna get in trouble when people realize he keeps talking about you,” she comments, clicking her tongue. you sigh dramatically, slouching your shoulders. “that’s what he wants.” suddenly all your members are gathered around you, confused as to what you’re talking about. “i got into another scandal with beomgyu and chan is jealous that it’s not him. so he’s putting in extra effort to try and get people to assume things.” your members share a weird look between them before turning back to you. “i think you should go on the most public date ever and make sure everyone knows you’re with lee chan of seventeen,” lily smiles brightly at you. this comment shocks you a little but you agree.

“will you guys help me set up a giant celebration at the restaurant under our dorm?” you ask and they all agree excitedly. you all rush to get back to your dorm, eager to plan an extravagant dinner for you and your boyfriend. you talk to the owners of the restaurant and they agree to vacate the restaurant for you. they even promise to make food on the house. your girls help you pick the perfect outfit, hair and makeup for the event. they even “accidentally” tell a well known media outlet that you have plans for tomorrow and they should be there.

___________________________________________

you sit in eager anticipation waiting for your boyfriend to show up. you can see a photographer out of the corner of your eye, waiting for something to happen. you hear the backdoor open and chan walks in, confidence filling his every step. your eyes fall on the suit he chose for tonight. he left his blazer undone, showing off that the buttons resting on his chest were begging to burst open.

“hello, my love,” he says as he pecks your cheek before sitting down across from you. “what’s the occasion for such a fancy dinner?” his face changes to panic for a moment before he speaks again; “did i miss our anniversary? your birthday?” you shake your head and chuckle just as a waitress comes scurrying out of the kitchen with pre prepared food. you thank her and shoot her a quick wink before turning back to your lover. chan looks at you with an unreadable expression, but you hope it’s positive.

the two of you eat your food happily, the atmosphere feeling very comfortable. your share anecdotes from your lives as idols, laughing that the ridiculousness of your respective companies. before long, your meal is coming to an end. chan gives you a look you know all too well and you’re quick to scurry away, up the stairs and to your dorm. your boyfriend follows swiftly behind you after thanking all the staff.

you thank your members mentally as you enter your normally occupied dorm. as soon as the door is closed, chan’s hands are on you. he drags you by your hips, crashing you against him. he kisses you with such aggression that you would think he was trying to eat you. your tongues tangle like snakes, drool spilling from the corner of your mouth. “fuck, baby. you’re so sexy, you know that?” he connects his lips to your jawline, sucking on your skin gently. he sucks dark red marks on your collar bones, taking a moment to lean back and admire his work.

“jump,” he mutters as he hooks his hands under your thighs. you hop and he catches you before quickly scurrying towards your room. he lays you down on your bed, pressing your legs wide open. he groans as he realizes you aren’t wearing any panties. you bite your lip as he admires you. “stop fucking me with your eyes and fuck me for real,” you demand. chan drops to his knees in front of you, desperation filling his eyes. you lift yourself onto your elbows so you can see him better. he kisses his way up your thighs before meeting his lips with your drenched core.

his skilled tongue darts out to circle your clit, small whines escaping from your throat. he grips your thighs, holding you exactly where he wants you. he slurps and drinks you up as you twitch and squirm under him. he focuses his attention on your sensitive clit, rubbing his tongue back and forth over it. “channie, please please ple-ah,” he silences you with a harsh smack to your inner thigh. “let me enjoy your cunt. god, i love that you’re mine,” he presses kisses against your slit, licking a fat stripe up it to follow. “fucking mine.”

he grazes his teeth over your clit, drinking in the way you squeak and raise your hips towards his mouth. your hands fly to his hair and drag his mouth back to you. he chuckles before he wraps his lips around your clit, sucking on it before letting it go with a small ‘pop.’ you grind your core against his face, his nose brushing your clit as you get more and more desperate for release. “you have the most perfect pussy, baby. could eat you forever.”

a low moan slips from his lips as he watches you clench around nothing at his words. he places one final kiss to your core before rising off his knees. “you’re so tasty, angel. but i think i might explode if i don’t get inside you.” he reaches down to undo his pants and let them pool around his ankles. he aligns himself with your desperate hole before pressing in gently. “my pretty, pretty girl.” he grabs your hands and intertwines all ten of your fingers with his. a gesture like this always felt so romantic to you.

he arms flex in reaction as you clench around him in an eager effort to get him to move. he draws his hips back slowly before returning himself to the hilt. your eyes cross and your back arches off the bed as he repeats this ritual over and over before he can’t take the slow pace anymore. he tightens his grip on your hands as he speeds up, the sounds of skin slapping filling the room. he stares between the two of you, watching as he disappears and reappears between your legs.”fuck, baby. you’re all mine. i don’t care what the media says. i’m the one fucking you. not beomgyu, me.” you nod your head, panting like a dog in the summer heat. “say it. who does this pussy belong to?” he thrusts into you faster, as if to make it harder for you to answer. “y-you, chan. fuck, it’s all yours.”

he lets go of your hands and opts to wrap his arms around your waist, pressing his face into your chest. he ruts into you with such vigor you think you might snap in half. he lifts you partially off the bed so you’re kind of sitting in his lap. your grind down on him, desperate for more. “channie… god, need it so bad,” you plead, your orgasm threatening to rip its way out of you. he runs his tongue between the valley of your breasts before pulling back to look at your face.

“keep eye contact with me while you finish. let me see how fucking good i make you feel.” you nod, digging your teeth into your bottom lip as he connects the pad of his thumb to your clit. you let out a deep sigh and fight your hardest not to throw your head back. the way chan looks at you through his sweaty bangs has you seeing stars. “cumming. oh my god i’m cumming,” you cry out as your whole body spasms. “yeah, that’s it baby. squeeze my cock like that.” your arms give out and you fall back onto the bed, gripping the sheets until your knuckles turn white.

your lover’s orgasm is quick to follow, ropes of cum painting your walls white. he moans and whines out your name like a hymn, gripping your waist so hard you might bruise. you twitch as he rides out the last of his high before stilling completely. he pulls out of you slowly before laying next to you. he pulls you tightly against him, panting slightly as he settles. “i promise i don’t care what the media says. i love you."

___________________________________________

#lomlhwa #seventeen #svt #lee chan #dino #seventeen smut #svt smut #lee chan smut #dino smut

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cameronsprincess · 2 days ago

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Hot Coco + Movie ☕️ — could i get a dark!reader and dark!rafe where rafe doesn’t even know the girl he’s into shares some of the same kinks until he actually tries it on her? 🖤🩷 (stalking, mask kink, chasing, knife/blood play, masochism/sadism) *rafe and reader aren’t together but rafe is obsessed with her not knowing she is also obsessed with him and possibly darker than he is) sorry if that didn’t make sense and if it’s too much😭🤞🏼

babeeee your request is so yummy🤤 it’s never too much, i love this and i love you!🖤

CW: smut! 18+ only! dark!rafe x dark!reader, mutual obsession, stalking (rafe follows reader in this + she admits to stalking him), slight knife play, blood play, choking, piv sex, strong language, praise and degrading. rafe’s pov.

5k blurbs/moodboards m.list

Rafe.

the nighttime air was cool, an occasional gust of wind slapping against my face with every step i took. it was a little past midnight, and i should be home, in bed getting rest for a day of working with my dad tomorrow. but when i peered out my window and saw her sneaking out the side door of her house, i had to follow.

i look up for a moment, placing my eyes back on her, the only girl worth getting out and walking aimlessly around the streets of the cut for. where the fuck is she going? we’ve been walking for close to an hour now. not that i should care, she’s not even mine. but she will be, she just doesn’t know it yet.

lowering my head, i place my hands in the pocket of my hoodie, my fingers lightly grazing over the handle of my knife. my cock jerks in my sweatpants at the thought of pressing the blade against her neck, my lips claiming hers for the first time, forcing her to realize she’s mine and always has been.

i lift my head again, wanting to have my eyes on her perfect ass, but when i look up, she’s gone. what the fuck? where did she go? she was just-

my thoughts die out, the feeling of a sharp object pressed into my back making me straighten my spine, muscles tense and jaw clenched. i swear to fucking god, these pogues are somethin’ else.

chuckling, i pull my hands from my hoodie pocket and raise them slowly, “look, you might as well just fuckin’ kill me, because i ain’t giv-”

“rafe cameron. why the fuck are you following me?”

the sweet sound of her voice has my muscles relaxing. i lower my hands to my side, slowly turning to face her. the moment my eyes lock with hers, heat floods my veins, my cock jerking and thickening in my sweatpants. she’s a fucking goddess, and the way she’s tightly gripping her own knife, pressing it into my chest? fuck me. the full moon illuminates her features beautifully, making her eyes sparkle more than they do in the sunlight.

“just makin’ sure a pretty girl like you is safe. i mean, s’not safe on these streets late at night, never know who’s watchin’ you or planning on grabbing you and using you.”

her eyes narrow into slits, her head cocking to the side just the slightest. she lets out a laugh, the sound going straight to my aching dick.

“oh, rafe, trust me when i say… i can take care of my fucking self,” she pauses, pulling the blade from my chest and taking a step back from me. “tell me the real fuckin’ reason you’re following me.”

i don’t speak, instead i study every inch of her face. my eyes run down from the top of her head, over her eyes, nose and end on her perfect lips. she’s such a fucking sight, one i wish i could hide away and keep for myself only. no one else deserves to see her fucking beauty, no one else is fucking good enough to see her face, her body, any of it. she’s mine.

i step toward her and she lifts her knife again. i chuckle at the action, my hands reaching out to grip her wrist. the knife falls from her hand, the sound of it clanking against the ground echoing through the otherwise quite air. she gasps, my hand tightening around her small wrists and yanking her into me. i run my free hand down the side of her face, pulling the most beautiful fucking whimper from her lips. she surprises me when she melts into my touch, leaning her face into my hand that rests on her cheek.

“oh, princess, that is the real reason… well, that and the fact that i plan on fucking you tonight,” she gasps, her eyes meeting mine. something dark flashes across her features, just for a second and then it’s gone, but it was there. “did you know… that i’ve been fuckin’ obsessed with you since the moment i saw you?”

a grin slowly spreads across her lips, the sight making my chest tighten. “yeah?” she pauses, taking advantage of my being distracted by her to rip herself from my hold, bending down to grab her knife and pressing it back into my chest, “what if i said… i’ve also been obsessed with you? what if i said… i’m responsible for all the bitches you touch ending up hurt? what if i said… i’ve watched you every day for the last two years? not a single move you make has gone unnoticed by me…”

sexual tension wraps itself around us, squeezing us so tightly i feel like i can’t breathe. fuck, this girl drives me fuckin’ crazy… i step farther into her, the sharp point of her knife pressing further into my chest when i do. i place a hand behind her head, my fingers wrapping around the strands and pulling, yanking her neck into an awkward position, forcing those fuck-me eyes of hers on mine.

“oh? are you trying to fuckin’ turn me on?” i walk us backward until her back is pressed against a worn brick wall, she gasps, the hold on her knife loosening in her hold when i press my hips into her, letting her feel how fucking hard i am for her. “because it’s working… you feel that? that’s what you do to me, pretty girl.”

a moan slips from her lips and send a jolt of pleasure straight to my throbbing cock. i slap her hand from my chest, her knife clattering onto the ground below again. my eyes dart across her face, dropping down to her pouty lips and then need to kiss her, claim her, takes over.

i dip my head down, claiming her lips with mine in a heated and hungry kiss. she melts into me, wrapping her arms around my neck and jumping, her legs wrapping around my waist. i force my tongue into her mouth, tangling it with hers. the taste of her mouth on my tongue has my cock throbbing, a bead of precum leaking from my tip. i have to be inside her, now.

i break my lips from hers, “you drive me so goddamn crazy. i need to be inside this sweet fucking pussy, now.”

she smirks, her eyes dark as she opens her mouth to speak. “i know a place, let’s go.”

she unwraps her legs from around me, allowing me to gently place her on her feet. she’s grasping my hand in hers, quickly grabbing her knife off the ground, closing it and shoving it into her back pocket before she’s dragging me across the empty streets. we reach a small, abandoned looking house within a few minutes, and my brow furrows when she begins digging into her pocket, pulling out a key and slipping it into the lock on the door.

once she gets it unlocked and open, she yanks me inside, slamming it shut behind her.

“what is this place?” i ask, my eyes taking in the dark, musty space. it’s pretty cleaned up inside, the floors are kinda rotting and the pain on the walls are chipped, but besides that, it’s not too bad.

she walks me toward a cream colored leather couch, pushing me down onto it and straddling my lap, arms around my neck as she presses her lips against mine again, grinding her clothed pussy against my dick.

“this place, is my little sanctuary. it’s where i come to escape the lavish life you and i both live. it’s also where i bring the girls who think they can talk to you and not be punished for it.”

my eyes widen at the last words, but my cock also throbs. does she really fuckin’ bring the girls i talk to here? what does she do to them? i have so many questions, but they’re all minuscule compared to what’s right in front of me. her lips trail down my jaw and to my neck, her teeth nipping at my skin as she continues to roll her hips against mine.

“fuck, baby. keep that up and i just might cum right now.” i rasp, my hands curling around her waist, pushing her further into me.

she grins, and the sight alone takes my fucking breath away. i watch with lust-filled eyes as she removes her arms from around my neck, removing her sweatshirt and tossing it to the floor. i suck in a sharp breath, her perfect tits in my face, hard nipples begging to be sucked on, bitten.

i remove one hand from around her waist, cupping her tit in my hand and squeezing. “fuck, they’re more perfect than i imagined they’d be.”

she moans, her tongue darting out to lick up the side of my neck, sending a shudder rushing through me. i massage her breast in my palm, toying with her hard nipple before dipping my head down, sucking her other nipple into my mouth. my teeth sink into the hard flesh, making her whimper and tremble in my lap.

“rafe, stop being such a fucking tease and fuck me.” she demands. i release her nipple with a pop, blowing cool air onto the bud and watching as she shakes.

“so fucking demanding.. i don’t really think you’re in a position to make demands, do you?”

she laughs, but it holds no humor. she’s off my lap in a flash, pulling her knife from her back pocket and flipping it open. i go to stand, but before i can even move a muscle, she has the blade pressed against my throat, something dark coasting across her face as she does. my cock jerks and i lean myself into her, allowing the blade to lightly knick my skin, a small pool of blood trailing down my throat.

“didn’t i tell you? this shit fucking turns me on,” i pause, gripping her wrist in my hand and knocking the blade from her grip. i quickly grab it, placing her own knife against her throat, “now, lick it fucking clean.”

her eyes meet mine, her pupils blown, making her eyes look black from how big they are. she leans in, allowing the blade to lightly knick her own skin before she sticks out her tongue, slowly licking up the trail of blood from my collar bone and up to my jaw. fuck. this girl is going to be my downfall. but i don’t fucking care. she’s mine, and i’m hers.

she wraps her lips around the sensitive flesh of my neck, right where her knife knicked, and she starts sucking, not pulling back until she’s cleaned every last drop of blood and a dark, purple bruise is left. i pull the knife from her neck, letting it drop to the floor and copying her actions. once satisfied with my mark, i claim her lips again, our tongues swirling together, the taste of our blood mixed together making the need for her cloud my mind.

not breaking her lips from mine, she runs her hands down my sides, her fingertips reaching the waistband of my sweats. she digs her fingers into the grey fabric, tugging lightly. i take the hint, lifting myself off the couch, keeping her in place with my hands beneath her ass. her arms go around my neck, and i remove one hand from her ass, pulling my sweats down my legs and allowing my painfully hard cock to spring free. i work at her leggings next, pulling at the fabric so hard it tears from her body. she gasps against my lips, her eyes landing on mine with a “what the fuck” look on her face.

“rafe! i have nothing else to wear when we leave here!”

“don’t worry, baby. i’ll let you wear my hoodie. you’re coming home with me after this anyways.”

she rolls her eyes, slapping her hand against my chest in a playful manner. i slowly place her feet back on the ground, pulling my hoodie up and over my head, tossing it to the ground. her hands fly to my chest, perfectly manicured nails digging into my skin and dragging down.

“goddamn.” i rasp, hissing in a breath from the sting of her pointy nails breaking skin.

she pushes me back into the couch, climbing into my lap, straddling me. she grinds her wet pussy against my length, moaning as she does. she slightly lifts her hips, gripping my cock in one hand and pumping me slowly, making me groan from how fucking good it feels. she lines my swollen head up with her entrance, pressing the tip into her but i quickly stop her, realizing i don’t have a condom.

“wait, i don’t have a-”

she slaps her palm against my face, cutting off my words as she sinks herself down on my cock, filling her pussy to the hilt.

she leans forward, her lips ghosting across mine as she whispers, “i don’t fucking care.”

my eyes roll to the back of my head, a low groan falling from me when she begins rolling her hips. she feels so fucking good, so wet and tight. her pussy walls squeeze against my dick, making it twitch with need.

i grip her wrist, pulling it from my mouth and twisting it behind her back, “such a filthy fucking slut, aren’t you? just had to have me raw, yeah?” i buck my hips upward and she moans, her head falling into the crook of my neck. “god, i bet you fucking get yourself off to the thought of this, huh? my cock buried deep inside this sweet fucking cunt, my cum painting your walls white and leaking down your thighs when i’m done. my perfect fucking slut, aren’t you baby?”

she pills her bottom lip between her teeth, trying to stifle her moans, but i’m not having that. i want to fucking hear her scream for me. i press my thumb on her lower lip, pulling it from between her teeth, “no baby, i wanna fucking hear you. let me hear how good i’m making you feel.”

i grip both her hips, halting her movements. her eyes find mine, and i give her a smirk before i begin thrusting my hips, pounding into her greedy hole like my fucking life depends on it— and at this point, it just might. her moans fill the room, cries of pleasure falling past her lips.

her pussy squeezes around my dick, trying to milk my cock dry. i pull her off me, tossing her onto her back on the couch. her tits bounce from the force and i can’t contain the groan that escapes me. i grip her upper arm, flipping her onto her stomach and slapping her ass, hard. she whines, burying her face into the leather cushions. i slip my hands under her body, lifting her hips so her ass is in the air. my mouth waters from the sight of her glistening cunt, her arousal slowly leaking down her thighs. i grip myself, jerking a few times before slamming myself back into her.

she digs her nails into the couch, screaming out my name when i hit the deepest part of her pussy repeatedly, loving the way her walls contract around me when i do. i lean over her back, wrapping my bicep around her throat and pulling her back flush into my front. i squeeze, taking away her air as i continue to pound my cock inside her.

my dick swells, my thrusts becoming sloppy as she starts to come undone around me. we’ll have to work on that, she’ll only ever be allowed to cum when i tell her she can.

“that’s it, baby. such a good fucking girl, coming all over my cock like the little cock slut you are.”

she tries to speak, but my bicep wrapped tightly around her throat only allows unintelligible sounds out. her body shakes in my hold, and i bury my face in her neck, my teeth biting down hard just as my balls draw tight. i push myself deep inside her one final time, holding myself there as long, slow spurts of my cum fill her cunt.

her nails dig into my forearm, begging me to loosen my hold on her. i finally do, allowing her to fall forward and suck in sharp gasps of air. i slip my softening dick from inside her, leaning down and pressing a kiss to the back of her head. she whimpers, and i dig my fingers into her hair, lifting her head back up off the couch. i force her neck sideways, placing my lips against hers in a searing kiss. when i finally pull myself from her, i run my nose up the side of her cheek, inhaling her intoxicating scent. my lips ghost across her ear, making her shudder.

“you’re mine now, you got it?” i rasp, nipping at the lobe of her ear.

she chuckles, the sound shooting straight to my dick again.

“and you’re mine, rafe cameron. don’t you fucking forget it. i will kill you if you think you can leave me, and i’ll kill anyone else who thinks she even has a chance.”

tagging some moots: @starkeysbabygirl @starkeysprincess @oceandriveab @rafesthroatbaby @bloodibambiidoll @babygorewhore @rafeyscurtainbangs @cherrygirlfriend @redhead1180 @jjsbaby @nemesyaaa

#kay’s 5k celly💞#rafe cameron #rafe cameron smut #dark!rafe cameron #dark!reader #rafe cameron x kook!reader #rafe cameron x dark!reader #dark!rafe smut #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron x reader #outer banks #obx smut #rafe outer banks #rafe obx

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darnell-la · 2 days ago

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Love your work! it’s so good, i was wondering if i could request another darkpervy!Logan and reader, She’s sleeping and he sneaks into her room and does whatever, you can decide if she wakes up or not and what they do, thank you!

note: we’ve been gone for a little, but we could never not come back with a dirty, dark, and pervy Logan Howlett post.

———

Logan wasn’t the type to think about secrets the group exposes on themselves on their drunk Friday nights, but what y/n had said earlier had been in his head for the last hour.

“Is it normal to, like, pass out after you finish? I’m not joking- Shop laughing!”

Everyone took what she said as a normal dirty secret, but Logan? God, he got hard within seconds of hearing her secret.

Now the man is outside of her room, listing through the thick door for her moans. He could tell she was close.

“F-Fuck,” y/n whined as her legs began to shake. Logan did his best to keep himself back from cumming right then. Her voice was enough to make a mess in his pants.

After Logan heard a few whines that sounded low and dead, he knocked on her door. He prayed she wouldn’t answer, and thank god she didn’t.

Logan quickly entered her room, closing and locking the door before anyone saw him in the hallway.

The man slowly turned around and met y/n’s sleeping body. She really wasn’t lying.

Logan was excited, heart pounding as his cock twitched. He knew tonight would be the best night he’s ever had.

“Can smell that pussy from over here…” Logan spoke low as he came up to her bed. He thought about taking his time, maybe eating her out or jerking off over her face, but he decided he needed to be in her.

Logan quickly undressed himself before hovering over her, getting in between her loose legs to spread them apart. “So perfect,” was all he could say.

Y/n isn’t too much of a heavy sleeper after she goes out after an orgasm, but for some reason, she hasn’t woken up yet. That orgasm had been one of the top bests.

“Gonna get this done quick and easy, okay, princes?” Logan spoke as he began pushing at her entrance, instantly feeling her tighten around his shaft. Logan groaned loudly as y/n whined, slowly waking up.

Y/n spoke, but Logan couldn’t understand her. She hadn’t even known what she said. She was out of it, and that only made her look better to the man.

“Keep it down, baby,” Logan said as y/n’s head slowly began to move, but she wasn’t fully awakened. She knew something was going on, but she felt pressure in her lower stomach and head. She felt a good kind of dizzy.

“So fuckin’ wet, Bub. You weren’t gonna tell me this? I thought we were close friends?” Logan said as his hands grabbed her lower body, pulling her into his now hard and deep thrust.

Y/n’s eyes squeezed before she tried opening them. She had failed a few times until they finally opened. That meant nothing though, as they were rolling to the back of her head from the sudden pleasure.

“Feels good, sweetheart? Tell me. Tell me you feel good, y/n”, Logan growled as he looked down at her smaller girl, watching her struggle to stay awake and take him.

“Lo?” Y/n asked, which came out as a whine. “Ah huh, I’m right here, baby. It’s me,” the man assured as her hands touched anywhere to grasp what was happening to her.

“L-Lo,” y/n whined, feeling his cock slip into her with ease as she grew more wet. Now she knew she was being fucked, but her brain still couldn’t comprehend the situation.

“Don’t worry — I’m close,” Logan spoke, confusing y/n as she slowly lifted her head. The young lady focused on what was thrust in and out of her cunt, and when she realized it, she couldn’t help but moan.

“Logan,” y/n whined, eyes still on the way his cock pushed into her. “You like it?” Logan asked again as one hand rested on the back of her head, keeping her up to see the view as the other strongly gripped her waist.

“I-I don’t know,” y/n said, but lord knew she loved this. “C’mon, Bub — Tell me you like it. You take me too good not to like it,” Logan said, feeling himself near. “I-I like it,” Y/n’s low voice echoed through his brain.

“Fuck yeah — You fuckin’ like it, baby? Like me having my way with your half-unconscious body?” Logan couldn’t stop thinking about how much he loved her being this way. He never knew this was a kink until earlier today.

“I-I do,” y/n replied right before a pool of cum gushed out of her. “Oh yeah, baby — That’s what I like to see,” Logan picked his pace up, feeling his cock goat h uncontrollably.

“Once I fill you up, I won’t be able to stop,”

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lefteagleblizzard · 1 day ago

Text

𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔱𝔦𝔪𝔢 𝔴𝔢 𝔩𝔬𝔰𝔱

Mike Schmidt x male reader

A request that I received from a friend on tumblr. ‘The reader has to leave for a week roughly, when he comes back Abby is obviously excited and wanting to play with the reader the rest of the day. But all Mike wants to do is have you under him writhing in ecstasy. Basically it's Mike having blue balls for most of the fic until the end when it's night and he *politely* hugs the reader while they frantically make love’

Tags: Part 10 of this miniseries of Mike Schmidt x male reader. No use of Y/N. Age-gap (5 years) between you and Mike. Male reader. He/him pronouns used towards the reader. Mike is missing you deeply. A tiny bit of jealousy. Mentions of phone sex. Smut. Top Mike. Bottom reader. Anal sex.

Words count: 3000 words

Part 1-Part 2- Part 3-Part 4-Part 5-Part 6-Part 7-Part 8 -Part 9

Can also be found on wattpad and ao3

The moment you stepped through the door, Abby's squeal echoed through the house. You barely had time to set your bag down before she came bounding toward you, her little arms outstretched. She wrapped herself around your waist in an enthusiastic hug, nearly knocking you off balance.

"You're back! You're back!" she cried, hopping on her toes as if to emphasize the sheer force of her excitement.

You laughed, ruffling her hair affectionately. "Missed me that much?"

She pulled back, her face a mixture of indignation and joy. "Of course I missed you! You've been gone forever!" She tugged at your hand insistently, her small fingers gripping tightly. "You have to see what I did while you were gone. I drew a lot! And I made one for you and you have to see it."

"Abby, take it easy, you're going to knock him over," Mike's voice came from the kitchen, casual but unmistakably warm. "He has been gone a week and you've got him chained to you already?"

"I missed you too," you said with a grin before kneeling down to meet Abby’s eye level. "Have you been good while I was gone? Not driving your brother too crazy, I hope?"

Abby giggled, then held out her pinky. "Promise I've been super good. Except maybe when I made Mike drop the spaghetti last night because I tried to do a cartwheel in the kitchen."

You glanced up at Mike, your smile widening. “Sounds like I missed quite a week.”

Mike rolled his eyes, though the faintest smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

"Sorry about her," his lips twitching into a faint smirk. "She's been talking about you all week. You'd think you were gone for months." His voice sent a pleasant shiver through you, low and steady but edged with amusement.

"She's fine," you said, smiling. "Honestly, it's nice to be missed."

He leaned against the doorframe, the dim lighting catching the tired creases under his eyes. Black hair messy t-shirt that clung to his lean but sturdy frame. His gaze lingered on you and only now did you realize how much you had missed him.

Abby, oblivious to the silent tension, kept tugging at your hand. "Come on! I need to show you something!" Her excitement bubbled over, her small hands pulling you toward her room with surprising strength. "I drew so many things while you were gone and you have to see them all!".

You glanced over at Mike, offering him a half-apologetic smile as his sister guided you by her room. He leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, his lips twitching between amusement and thinly veiled frustration.

Mike's brow arched slightly as though to say, ‘Really? After a week away, you're prioritizing her?’ But he didn't speak his protest aloud. Instead, he pushed off the doorway with a grunt, muttering, "Guess I'll just... wait my turn."

The room was a kaleidoscope of colors, with crayon drawings taped to the walls, scattered across the floor and piled on her tiny desk. Abby flopped onto the carpet, pulling out a stack of drawings with the urgency of someone sharing top-secret information. "Okay, okay! Look at this one first. It's Chica but I made her of a different color."

You chuckled, sitting cross-legged beside her as she thrust the drawing into your hands. “A total masterpiece."

Her eyes sparkled at your praise. "You think so? Look at this one!" She shuffled through the pile, pulling out another one that she eagerly handed to you.

"This one is us at the park," she explained, holding up a crayon drawing of the three of you surrounded by flowers and trees. "Those two are you and Mike holding hands! I drew it because you're always together."

You couldn't help but laugh softly, feeling a tinge of embarrassment but also a deep sense of affection. "You're quite the artist, Abby. I look amazing here. You're going to be famous one day."

Her eyes lit up at the compliment, and she beamed with pride. "Really?"

"Absolutely," you assured her, glancing at Mike. "Right, Mike?"

From the bed, where Mike had sprawled out with all the ease of a man trying to keep his patience in check, a low sound of approval erupted. He smirked at the question, his gaze flickering between you and Abby. "Yeah, kid. You've got some real talent. Be careful, though. Keep going like this and his ego's going to get too big." His dark eyes watched you intently, softening ever so slightly every time Abby smiled at you.

Abby's grin widened and she immediately dove into her stack of drawings to find more to show you. Mike's smirk softened into a fond smile as he watched her animatedly interact with you. He loved seeing you and Abby bond, though his gaze kept drifting to you, lingering on the curve of your back as you leaned forward, the way your lips quivered when you laughed and the soft glow in your eyes as you encouraged Abby.

A part of him felt guilty for how often his mind wandered, but he couldn't stop the flood of thoughts. He knew he should focus on the moment, but his body's reaction to having you so close after a week apart was impossible to ignore

He clenched his jaw, trying to focus on the mundane but his gaze kept wandering back to you. Your fingers brushed hers as you helped her shuffle through the pile of pictures, your laughter soft and genuine as you let her talk about her latest dream.

‘God, those hands...’ his eyes lingering on the way your fingertips moved. He didn't mean to stare, but the memory of those same hands clutching his shoulders, clawing at his back, sent a flash of heat straight to his core.

He shifted uncomfortably on the bed, feigning disinterest as his thoughts betrayed him. The view of the way you leaned slightly forward, the curve of your spine visible through your shirt made it ten times worse. He wondered, for the briefest of moments, what it would feel like to have you there on the floor, pinned beneath him, the softness of your moans muffled against his lips.

Abby leaned against your shoulder, holding up another picture. This one was clearly meant to be Mike, his hair a chaotic swirl of black scribbles. "This one's you, Mike! I made his hair messy because it's always like that." she exclaimed, holding up a surprisingly decent rendition of his perpetual frown.

"It's not always messy," he protested half-heartedly. He was leaning against the bed frame, one leg propped up, his head tilted lazily against the wall. You turned toward him with a grin. "She's not wrong, though."

Mike shot you a glare, though there was no real malice behind it. "I see you've both decided to team up on me. Great. Just what I needed after a long week." he muttered.

Abby giggled, unfazed by his grumbling as she kept eagerly pulling out new drawings she made

His eyes softened at the sight of you and Abby together. She was sitting so close to you, practically in your lap, her small hand tugging at your sleeve as she babbled on about her next masterpiece. It was enough to make his heart ache, both from the warmth of seeing you bond with her and the sharp sting of jealousy that you weren't paying attention to him.

He let his head fall back against the wall, staring at the ceiling as he tried to shake the frustration bubbling in his chest. He shouldn't feel like this. Abby was a kid and she deserved every bit of your attention. But damn it, he'd missed you. A week without you had felt like an eternity and now that you were here, he had to sit back and wait?

His fingers twitched at the memory of the previous night at work. Alone in the security office, watching the flickering monitors, the silence stretching endlessly. It had been another slow, uneventful shift, the kind that made every second feel like an hour.

One second he was leaning against the chair, the next he got up and grabbed the nearby phone and dialed the number of the structure you were in.

He'd called you on impulse, not even sure you'd pick up so late.

"Mike?" Your voice had been groggy but laced with concern. "It's, like, two in the morning. Are you okay?"

The sound of your voice had been a balm to his frayed nerves. “Yeah," he'd said, leaning back in the chair, the phone pressed tightly to his ear. "I'm fine. Just... bored. Wanted to hear your voice." His tone had shifted, growing rougher, more deliberate.

There'd been a pause, and then a soft chuckle. "You miss me that much, huh?"

He hadn't denied it. He couldn't. Instead, he'd let the words tumble out, his voice dropping to a husky murmur as he told you how much he'd been thinking about you. And God, the way you'd responded, your voice growing softer, breathier, as the conversation took a turn he hadn't dared hope for.

By the end of it, he'd been a mess, stroking himself as your whispered moans filled his ear. He'd closed his eyes, picturing you on his lap, your hands clutching his shoulders, your body rocking against his as he thrust up into you over and over. He could still hear your voice, the way you'd gasped his name when you came. It had been enough to leave him breathless, slumped in his chair with his hand still wrapped around himself.

The memory of your voice, the way you'd whimpered his name through the phone, sent a fresh wave of heat coursing through him even now.

"Mike, you're not even looking!" Abby's voice snapped him back to the present. She was holding up another drawing, her brow furrowed in mock frustration.

He adjusted his position on the bed, praying Abby wouldn't notice the tension in his body, forcing a smile. "Sorry, kiddo. Let me see."

The hours dragged on, but for Mike, every second felt like an eternity. He loved how natural you were with her, how effortlessly you fit into their little world. But the selfish part of him, the one that had spent countless sleepless nights imagining your body pressed against his, was losing the fragile grip it had on its patience.

Night had finally fallen and Abby, despite her earlier determination to stay awake and keep playing, had succumbed to exhaustion. She lay nestled inside the fort she had spent the better part of the evening constructing, pillows stacked precariously, blankets draped over chairs and furniture, her breathing slow and steady. Mike had taken care to tuck another blanket securely around her, brushing her hair back gently before stepping away.

You stood near the doorway, arms crossed, watching the scene with a fond smile. There was something endlessly endearing about seeing Mike in dad mode, his gruff exterior softening as he ensured Abby was warm and comfortable.

"She's out cold," he murmured as he joined you at the door, his voice low to avoid waking her. His gaze lingered on her for a moment longer before he gently shut the door behind him.

When he turned back to you, there was a shift in his expression. Without a word, he reached out, wrapping his arms around your waist in a firm but measured embrace. His face nuzzled into the crook of your neck, his stubble brushing against your skin as his breath came hot and steady.

"Finally," he murmured, his voice husky. "My turn."

You chuckled softly, though your breath hitched at the weight of his tone. "What, you missed me that much?" You tried to keep your voice light, teasing, though your heart raced as he held you.

He pulled back just enough to meet your eyes, his dark gaze smoldering. "You have no idea." His fingers pressed into your lower back, pulling you closer until your bodies were flush. "No more interruptions. You're mine now."

Mike's hand never left your waist as he guided you down the hall toward the bedroom. His grip was firm but not rushed, his thumb stroking small circles through the fabric of your shirt. Once inside, he kicked the door shut with a soft thud, the sound sending a thrill down your spine.

He turned to you, his eyes tracing over your face before sliding lower, drinking in the sight of you like a man starved. "I've been waiting all day for this," he said quietly, voice low and rough. "All week, really."

He leaned in and captured your lips with his own. The kiss was deep and consuming, tongue brushing yours, coaxing a soft moan from your throat.

He broke the kiss only to press his forehead against yours, his breathing uneven. "God, I missed you," he muttered, his hands sliding under your shirt to touch the bare skin of your back. "Every damn second you were gone, I was thinking about you."

Mike eased you onto the bed, his weight settling between your legs as he kissed you again. His hands worked your shirt over your head, tossing it aside before his lips moved lower, trailing down your neck, your chest, each kiss deliberate and hungry.

His fingers skimmed the waistband of your pants, pausing for a moment to look up at you. "Let me take care of you," he murmured, his voice thick with longing.

He leaned down, his lips pressing against your collarbone, your chest, the soft skin of your stomach. Each kiss was hot and deliberate, leaving a trail of heat in its wake. His stubble grazed your skin, a delicious contrast to the softness of his mouth.

When he reached your waistband, he paused, glancing up at you through his lashes. "Can I?" he asked, his voice rough but laced with tenderness.

You nodded, your breath hitching as his hands worked your pants and boxers down in one smooth motion. The cool air against your heated skin made you shiver, but that sensation was quickly replaced by the warmth of his hands as they smoothed over your thighs.

He took his time, his gaze never leaving you as he pressed open-mouthed kisses to your inner thighs, his stubble brushing against the sensitive skin.

"So perfect," he whispered, his voice barely audible, his breath hot against you. "I've missed this so much."

His hands spread your legs wider as he continued his exploration, his lips and tongue teasing you until you were trembling beneath him.

When he finally pulled back, his pupils blown with desire, he reached into the nightstand for the small bottle of lube you both kept there. The sound of the cap clicking open sent a shiver of anticipation through you.

He poured a generous amount onto his fingers before setting it aside. His eyes met yours as he coated his fingers, the intensity of his gaze making your breath catch in your throat.

Your body was trembling with anticipation as you felt his hand slide between your legs, his fingers gently parting your thighs. The first touch of his slick fingers against you made you gasp, your hips instinctively arching off the bed as he began to prepare you. His movements were slow and careful, his fingers working you open with a patience that made your heart swell with affection.

"You're so tight," he murmured, his voice dropping to a near-growl as he worked you open. "God, I've missed feeling like this."

He took his time, making sure you were comfortable, that you were ready, before he added a second finger, then a third, each one stretching you further, preparing you for what was to come.

You could feel every nerve in your body alight with pleasure, every touch sending sparks of electricity through you.

When he finally pulled his fingers out, you couldn't help the whimper that escaped your lips, your body aching for more.

He reached down to unbutton his own pants, quickly shedding the rest of his clothes until he was just as bare as you were.

He settled between your legs, his body pressing against yours. You could feel the hard length of him pressing against your thigh.

His words sent a flush of heat through you, your hips moving involuntarily as you chased the feeling of his touch. His free hand gripped your thigh, holding you steady as he added another finger, his movements deliberate.

"You're doing so good for me," he said, his voice softening for a moment. "So good."

The first stretch was intense, a mix of pressure and pleasure as Mike slowly pushed inside. He let out a low, guttural sound as he buried himself to the hilt, his hands gripping your hips tightly. "Fuck," he muttered, his head falling forward against your shoulder. "So tight. Feels even better than I remembered."

He paused for a moment, letting you adjust, his breathing ragged as he fought to hold himself still. "Tell me if it's too much," he said, his voice low but tender.

"It's good," you whispered, your hands sliding up to his shoulders. "Go on."

You clenched around him, drawing a sharp groan from his lips. His movements started slow, his hips rocking gently as he let you adjust. But as your hands found their way to his back, your nails digging in slightly, he couldn't hold back any longer.

Mike's pace quickened, each thrust deep and deliberate, his breath hot against your ear. "You feel so good," he rasped, his voice raw. "God, I've missed this. Missed you."

Your moans filled the room, mingling with the sound of his ragged breathing and the rhythmic slap of skin against skin. Every movement, every touch, felt electric, the built-up tension of the past week spilling over in waves of pleasure.

Mike leaned down, his lips brushing against your jaw as he murmured, "You’re taking me so well... so perfect."

His words sent a shiver down your spine, your hands clutching at his shoulders as he drove into you with a newfound urgency. His hands roamed your body, touching, gripping, as if he couldn't get enough.

By the time you both reached your peak, you were a mess of tangled limbs and breathless moans. Mike collapsed beside you, his hips stuttered, grip on you tightening as he buried himself to the hilt. His groan was deep and guttural, his body shuddering against yours as he spilled into you, pulling you close against his chest as you both tried to catch your breath.

His fingers traced lazy patterns on your back, his lips brushing against your temple. "Don't ever leave me for that long again," he said quietly, his voice still rough from exertion as he tightened his arms around you, his breath evening out as he held you close.

Note: If you liked this story please leave a comment, I love reading them <3. Up next i’ll post another Mike Munroe fic ;)

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unboundprompts · 6 hours ago

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Hi there, can I request some princess x prince prompts? Maybe even have the pair be childhood friends?

Princess x Prince Prompts (childhood friends edition)

-> feel free to edit and adjust pronouns as you see fit.

The princess brushed aside low-hanging branches to reveal the glade they’d once called theirs. The air smelled of damp earth and wildflowers, just as she remembered, but her heart felt heavier now than it had as a child. She glanced back at the prince, whose jaw tightened as he stepped into the clearing, his eyes not on their familiar surroundings but on her. “It’s been too long,” he murmured, and she nodded, her hand unconsciously clenching around the charm he’d given her years ago. His gaze lingered, intense and unreadable, as though he was searching for the girl he’d left behind, but she could hardly look at him, her heart fluttering too wildly with the realization that the boy she remembered had become someone new.

In a defiant whirl of silk and lace, the princess dragged the prince onto the ballroom floor, ignoring the shocked murmurs of courtiers. He stumbled, his face a mix of surprise and bemusement, but he quickly fell into step with her, matching her rhythm with ease. She twirled, her laughter ringing like bells, and he couldn’t help the way his heart skipped when she looked up at him, her eyes alight with mischief. The music slowed, and she drew closer, her cheek brushing his, leaving him breathless. The warmth of her hand in his made him ache to pull her closer, to let this moment stretch forever.

The princess laughed, breathless as she tugged him down the dark, narrow alley, her footsteps echoing in the still night. He’d never seen her so alive, her hair wild and her cheeks flushed, as though the weight of her crown was finally gone. “Come on, slowpoke!” she whispered, eyes glinting with excitement. He followed, grinning despite himself, his fingers lacing through hers as he pulled her around a corner and into a sheltered nook. For a moment, they stood there, close enough that he could feel the warmth radiating from her, the thrill of their escapade settling between them. He caught her gaze, and the exhilaration in her eyes softened to something deeper, something that made his heart pound as he realized they were alone—and this was more than just a game.

The princess gripped the wooden practice sword tightly, her knuckles white with determination. “Like this?” she asked, her brow furrowed as she mimicked his stance. The prince chuckled, stepping behind her to adjust her grip, his hands steady on hers. The scent of leather and steel lingered between them, but all he could focus on was her closeness, the way her shoulders tensed beneath his touch. “Relax,” he murmured, his breath warm against her cheek. She tilted her head to glance at him, their eyes meeting for a heartbeat, and he suddenly forgot the next instruction. The sparring field faded away, and in that moment, all he wanted was for her to never let go.

The prince lay pale and feverish, his breaths shallow as she knelt beside him, panic clouding her mind. She pressed a cloth to his forehead, whispering desperate promises to gods she wasn’t even sure she believed in. In a final act of hope, she leaned down, pressing her lips softly to his, hoping against hope that the fairy tale remedy would work.

#writing prompts #creative writing #writeblr #dialogue prompt #story prompt #prompt list #otp prompts #ask box prompts #prince x princess prompts #princess prompts #prince prompts #royalty prompts #fantasy prompts #romance prompts

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saixria · 1 day ago

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@angels-bullshit well you asked for it TELEMACHUS RAMBLE

I’m sure there’s no doubt in anyone’s mind that Telemachus represents open arms. For one, he immediately accepts Athena as his friend with open arms and offers the goddess of wisdom some wisdom in We’ll be fine, that’s just. Peak open arms behavior.

Besides the obvious, we can look into the motif (literary, not musical) of light vs dark in the musical (which might also be obvious but anyway). Even if we ignore Polites’ whole cut song “Your Light” about being Odysseus’ “light”, the light motif is actually kept in Open Arms — “we can light up the world here’s how to start”. I think this motif symbolizes the positive impact of open arms. Much like Circe said, “maybe showing one act of kindness leads to kinder souls down the road”. If you inspire the world around you by being kind, you will in turn be treated with kindness. This is contrasted by the motifs of darkness in “I am your darkest moment” and “the world is dark” signifying ruthlessness. Instead of trying to change the ruthless world around you, you must become ruthless too to survive. There’s inherent selfishness to ruthlessness since you’re ensuring your own survival over others.

WHAT A TANGENT OK HOW DOES THIS RELATE TO TELEMACHUS? He has this line in Legendary “so I could bring the world some light” which references Polites’ whole “light up the world”. Let’s not forget “tell me Athena why you came to my aid” has the same melody as “what keeps you up so late at night my friend” from cut song Ismarus where Polites is asking Odysseus this. (HM I WONDER WHAT OTHER CHARACTER IS UNABLE TO SLEEP DUE TO GUILT)

The light thing comes back so many times in we’ll be fine. “Then his light went dark” (can be interpreted as Polites, his “light”, dying, but I prefer to interpret it as him basically getting traumatized, losing his original enthusiasm in his belief that everything would go smoothly and he’d be able to get home with all 600 men as he suffers his very first casualties) “life could be that bright” — Not only is Athena talking about Odysseus losing his light, she herself has also lost hers as she lost her one and only friend and the positive impact he had on her life, and now it feels as though her life has gone dark.

“I know it’s light you’ll find” — Telemachus is literally acting as Athena’s light here as Polites was Odysseus’ 😭😭 he encourages her to help Odysseus, to embrace the Open Arms ideology of making a positive impact on the world around you and you’ll end up positively affected as well. In bringing Odysseus light, perhaps she herself will also regain hers. From all this, Telemachus clearly represents Open Arms and is to Athena what Polites was to Odysseus.

Now how does Telemachus embody ruthlessness? This part is much shorter since we don’t have as much to analyze (perhaps we’ll get more in Ithaca saga) but Telemachus doesn’t shy away from being ruthless when the need arises either. He fights Antinuous in Little Wolf to defend his family’s honor, and in Ithaca saga he will also help kill the suitors (perhaps we will get more on his mindset here, but don’t take my word on that). He is willing to do what it takes, even if it’s cruel like hunting down all the suitors, to protect his family, and killing the suitors IS what’s necessary and an act of ruthlessness.

(Though actually this is making me realize “boy I wish I could so I could bring the world some light” was referring to… killing monsters. Maybe this shows that even in Legendary he’s wanted to make a positive impact on the world by being ruthless in a way, further showing that he’s the true balance of Ruthlessness and Open Arms)

Anyway, Telemachus was really only able to achieve this balance because of his circumstances, just as Odysseus was forced to fully embrace ruthlessness because of his. While Telemachus has faced hardships (the suitors) that requires ruthlessness to be dealt with, hes also a crowned, sheltered prince, largely unaffected by even darker aspects of the world like war and death as Odysseus has been, so Telemachus was able to retain part of his innocence and his “light” while Odysseus’ was stripped from him. Both of them were products of their environments, and it’s quite fitting how Odysseus went to war to protect his son, and his son ended up being a “better” person than Odysseus was forced to become. Telemachus means “far from battle”, and indeed Odysseus has succeeded in keeping his son far from the darkness of war and its aftermath.

#This is why I don’t think Odysseus’ arc in Epic is to achieve the balance btw #it’s tragic that he was forced into such inhumane lengths but he would’ve died if he hadn’t done such things #The moral dilemma here is the point of the story #Telemachus is who Odysseus could’ve been in a better world #xria rambles #epic the musical #jorge rivera herrans #epic the wisdom saga #epic odysseus #epic athena #epic telemachus #epic the vengeance saga #character analysis #writing

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itstheval · 11 hours ago

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Memory of Dreary Days / Siffrin Gets An Earring

A @livesworthlivingau Side Story

It was a lovely autumn day, and Siffrin was miserable.

This wasn't anything new, they'd come to realize. The events of Dormont had changed - and possibly Changed - them, but that was months ago, a little over a year now. No, this frustration was newer, possibly the last few months, but they'd managed to identify it over time.

They watched Mirabelle and Isabeau, in front of them, chatting about what Changes they might want to make in the future. Isabeau had a whole list of ideas, but Mirabelle was being more cautious, as usual. Odile was watching and writing, and Bonbon, they were sitting on Nille's shoulders as both of them added their two coins when they had an idea. Leaving you, Siffrin the Traveler, as an outsider. Again.

It wasn't their fault, you knew it. You were empty inside, and this entire adventure you were on was to fill you. That was something the doctor had mentioned, that you seemed to agree with…You didn't have a past, so they were making you one, because they wanted you to. So why were you being talked over, and around? Why were they treating you like a pet, not someone with their own ideas?

The only thing worse than knowing it was it being known, unfortunately. It seemed like they came to a pause in conversation, and Isabeau looked back as though remembering you existed after so long ignoring you.

"What about you, Sif? Got any ideas for big Changes?"

You could laugh. You could sob. You remembered being as large as the sky, and just as filled with stars. You pictured yourself, star-headed and lightless-skinned.

"I don't think so! That's a Vaugardian thing, isn't it?"

The words were more bitter than you imagined them to be, and the second they left your lips you knew that they were wrong. A second after, you told yourself otherwise. "Words can't be wrong", the doctor had said, "If you mean them. You're trying to express yourself, not win a game." Well, from the way everyone else's faces fell, that was good, because you'd have just lost hard.

"That doesn't mean you can't Change! There's Houses everywhere that will take you in and help you, too."

"Yes," Odile continued. "I've thought of using them myself, during my time here, but I never had time to stay in one place, what with…everything."

"Really, madame? You're so pretty! What would you even change?"

And the conversation was off again…Odile explaining her heritage yet again, too-thick hair and too-wide eyes for ka bue, too-thin eyes and too-thin hair for Vaugarde. You wondered, sometimes, if Ka Buans had thought she was as pretty as Vaugardians do. You wonder, in the moment, if they'd bother talking to you again.

They hadn't.

You'd caught Isabeau looking over at you, with something more thoughtful than pity, but you could see the pity in it. Whatever he had in his mind, it wasn't enough to make him ask about anywhere else, or change the subject. Quietly, you thought about how much nicer it would've been if you'd just gone for a comfortable lie instead.

▬▬▬

It was a rainy, autumnal day, and Siffrin was bored.

It wasn't anyone's fault, everyone knew that was just what happened in Autumn. You found somewhere to stay until the rains ended, or you trudged through the worst mud that you could imagine. Bored or miserable, and to the family the choice was obvious. Siffrin had been…letting themself think of them that way for a while, even without telling them. Their little secret. Maybe not their family, but they were the family, and nobody could blame him for that, right? Watching Mira read to Bonbon, watching Isa and Nille talking about, of all things, carpentry, and Madame writing in those inscrutable books of hers.

You hated it. You hated listening to it, you hated being part of it, and you hated being trapped in it. It was nothing like the loops, you knew, but it was almost worse in its way. Watching everyone else with a role, with something to do, and you off to the side like some pet. You'd already napped yourself dry, and nobody had begrudged you sleeping through breakfast, even if it meant you were likely to stay up well after the candles were out at night. But the rest of your day…

You sighed. Sitting there wasn't going to make you any happier, and you'd already looked at all of the books Mira had brought with her. You'd read through the horror stories until they started showing up in your dreams, when Mirabelle had banned you from reading any more of them because of how you'd been whimpering in your sleep. Isa had tried to defend your right to read, but the looks Odile had given him had made him blush in a peculiar way and stop trying, and that had been the end of it. The less said about the romances, the better. You understood that Vaugarde was an open place, but the things they dreamt up to keep two people from each other felt so cliched, so unreal, so impossible that you couldn't get into them.

So, you laid there, in a bed, in a wooden room, staring at the ceiling until the morning came.

How familiar.

That thought sent a shudder down your spine that you knew everyone noticed, but you got out of bed before any of them could comment on it. No, you were dealing with this. You weren't being dealt with, not this time. You hopped up, and walked over to Odile, who closed her book as you approached.

"What could you be writing down now?" you found it in you to ask. "Vaugardian rainy-day games? I thought you were a master at those." The joking tone managed to reach your voice, you thought, and you were glad for it.

"Oh, I wasn't writing at all. Believe it or not, I'm designing something."

"Designing?" The surprise in your voice was clear.

"Well yes. You have your woodcarving…Or had it, when we were near forested areas enough to find scrapwood. Mirabelle has her writing. I thought I should perhaps try my hands at something creative."

"Oh, can I see?" This was WAY more interesting than laying in bed!

"If you can guess what it is, then yes. It wasn't fair that I didn't get to see your face when my research was revealed, after all." Her smile was coy and knowing, but she did, ultimately, have a point.

"Oh, is it…" You looked around, trying to think of what could be in the room that she could draw inspiration from.

"Clothesmaking? Like Isa plans to?"

"Nice try, young one. But that's your one try for the day." Odile's eyes turned up as she thought about the idea. "Besides, do you think I'd compete with Isabeau? In something he's planned for that long?"

You had to concede the point.

▬▬▬

"Carpentry?"

"Can you imagine me swinging a hammer, Siffrin? I know my limits, and they stop well before there."

▬▬▬

"Bookbinding!" You thought for sure you had her on that one. Something to do with her precious books, and something she could study from Mira's colleciton and her own?

"Sadly, no. But, now that you mention it, maybe I should."

▬▬▬

So the days had passed, until things were clear again. The world was colder now, and you could feel it around your cloak, but everyone was well prepared for it. You'd all gotten your own instructions on what to purchase, and been sent off to pick up supplies, which had taken the whole day between bartering and transporting. Thakfully, without Mira there you managed to get a Savior of Vaugarde Discount, and used the extra coin to pick up a pain au chocolat. Some things, it seemed, were eternal, and this one you didn't mind.

So it was that you returned to the inn, one hand with a canvas bag full of smaller bags, spices and flour and other things for Bonbon, the other letting you munch away happily, but you found yourself pausing outside the door. Something was wrong, you could feel it. You finished your treat quickly, and opened the door with a hand on your dagger. A pre-feeling, something that you couldn't put words to, told you that there was something going on beyond the door

You were right.

But not how you thought.

Instead, the family had been standing around in a half-circle, seemingly waiting for you to get back! You barely had time to rescue the groceries as a Bonbon-shaped missile impacted your legs and held you, Mira following after on the other side and Nille even stepping in to ruffle your hair, as Odile looked on fondly, and Isa…Hid something.

As lovely as the feeling was, your suspicions were raised far too high.

You managed a laugh, and to pull yourself free of the hug after enough time that it had started to loosen, before staring down Isa. Watching his cheeks darken was almost worth he price of admission, even as the others spoke around you. Again.

"I told you he'd notice!"

"You hardly had a better idea, Mirabelle."

"Uh-uh! We shoulda done it at dinner! Make sure he's comf-ta-bul."

"Comfortable, Boniface."

"That's what I said!"

It all flowed around you, as you stepped closer to Isa, and sighed. "I know what bonding earrings are, Isa." You allowed, holding out a hand, making him stutter even worse - and sending a roil of laughter around the room from everyone else.

That wasn't it? Then what was he hiding?"

"You're half right, I'm afraid. This is actually something we'd all been thinking about for a while…The past week just proved how important it was. It's not bonding earrings, but…"

As Odile spoke, Isabeau brought a black jewelry box around, holding it out to you. His words were trembling and small, in the way he always seemed to do only for you. You wished he wouldn't…his big booming voice was always so nice.

"We noticed you don't have any earrings yourself, Sif! And…I mean, you're as Vaugardian as any of us, if you want to be. Not that you should feel like you have to give anything up for us! But! I thought this might…make it easier to remember?"

What…were they saying?

Isabeau opened the box, and instead of one of his black i-earrings like you'd expected, a pair of star-shaped earrings rested inside. They were a light shade, just dark enough to notice around your hair, and obviously handcrafted. The edges were imprecise, the designs weren't symmetrical, and you could feel the love in every angle.

You stared. You didn't know what else to do.

Isa was saying more things, and it sounded like other people were responding, but you lifted up a hand to the box. A shaking hand, you realized when it was halfway there. Trembling, uncertain, but you didn't dare stop now. Not when they'd put so much effort in.

"-know what I was working on, the past few days. It's something of a rush job and it shows, but it's even more Vaugardian to have it made by your family, isn't it?" Odile was speaking.

Made…by your family.

Made by them.

You cried. You wrapped your arms around the giant body of Isabeau and you cried and you sobbed and you bawled and for once in your life, you weren't ashamed of a single sound you made. There wasn't any room for it in your heart. Not with everything else you were feeling.

Everyone else was holding you in moments. You turned, as best you could in the group hug, to include all of them. You knew you were getting tears and snot all over them and you didn't care. They were there. They were your family. They…You were one of them.

In that moment, of all moments, you were loved.

#isat fanfic #lwlau #lives worth living au #lwl nille #lwl isabeau #isat #isat au #isat siffrin #isat mirabelle #isat isabeau #isat odile #lwl odile #isat bonnie #lwl bonnie

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wanna1be0 · 2 days ago

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part i - goodbye

synopsis: you and vi grew up together in the undercity. you've always admired her and didn't realize your true feelings until she left. when she comes back with an enforcer, sure you're hurt, but you work with her for the greater good. when cait leaves vi, you're there for her. cw: female reader, vi x reader, emotional hurt, mention of caitvi's relationship, alcohol mentioned, slow burn, spoilers s2

Vi is at her lowest. Being hit and reduced to a monster by the person she thought she could trust broke her. She resorted to the one thing she knew. Fighting.

Vi's vision has gone blurry. She's sweating from the alcohol in her system, and the black of her hair dye is running down her skin. She can tell by the smell of your perfume that you're there, and by the feeling of the big arm under hers, Loris is too.

"Can you just leave me alone?" Vi grumbles, pushing both you and Loris away as you were leading her towards the door. "No Vi, we are here to help you," you say as you put your hand back on her shoulder and continue leading her inside. Pushing you off her once again, this time even more aggressively, she starts to yell.

"Can't you see I don't need your help? I never needed your help. Not when we were younger and not now. And you Loris, I don't need your help either. Both of you should just leave."

Taken aback by her words, tears fill your eyes. When you were younger you did everything together. You were inseparable. When everything went down at the warehouse, you thought she had died and mourned her loss as if it were real.

You look to Loris for help, but he looks defeated. He shrugs his shoulders at you, while giving you a sort of knowing look. She won't change.

She is still hung up on Cait.

You consider Loris a close friend, and with that you opened up to him. About what life was like when Vi left. About what happened to Powder, to Jinx. You and Ekko kept in touch, but you weren't much of a fighter. Thinking Vi had died caused your eyes to open regarding how you really felt about her. Sure you admired her growing up, but you also grew to love her. She was strong willed, protective, someone you could count on. You were left to mourn the love of your life in solitude. And now, she was pushing you away after you had just gotten her back.

Loris and you have been doing this night after night. Sitting with Vi in the bar until she can no longer function without the two of you holding her up, walking her back to the small room she lives in, and slowly getting more and more hurt by her. "I don't know about you, [y/n], but I think I've had enough of her bullshit," Loris says pointing to Vi. And just like that, it is you and Vi. Vi and you. Alone in a dark alley.

"You don't mean that Vi, you're drunk," you say softely. Vi scoffs and begins stumbling to the door. You reach for her shoulder, but she shrugs you away, raising her voice once again, "Leave it [y/n], I don't need you." You blink the tears away, the hurt and sadness becoming searing anger.

"You know what Violet, I will leave. Lets see how long you last with this. Coming back drunk every night to a room you can barely call livable with no companion besides your fists. You know, I mourned you for years when you left. I thought you died. And then you come back, with an enforcer who you eye fuck every chance you get no less, and act as if everything is normal? Well it's not normal Vi. It never has been. And I thought maybe we could be... normal again without Cait. But I should have known better. Goodbye Violet. Have fun fighting your life away instead of facing your feelings."

The corner of Vi's vision begins to fade into black as you walk away. With tears streaming down your face, you mourn the loss of Vi all over again.

#violet arcane #arcane #arcane s2 #arcane season 2 #arcane season 2 spoilers #arcane s2 spoilers #vi arcane #vi x reader #vi x you #vi x y/n #vi #fanfiction #writing #arcane fanfic #arcane league of legends #arcane x reader

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fynsh · 3 days ago

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Thorn had been caught in the crossfire of a dangerous mission and gotten injured. Their CMO had to shave one the side of his head in order to perform a procedure to save the commanders's eye sight.

Ever since waking up and being able to stay awake for more than a few minutes Thorn has been unusually subdued. It's more than the pain killers, even though he doesn't explicitly mention it, everyone visiting knows Thorn is feeling down. It's not hard to figure out that he feels less himself with missing a big chunk of his carefully maintained locks. And that he probably thinks it's stupid to mourn for hair that will grow back should he stay alive long enough.

Thorn's brothers decide to do something about the sadness he isn't ready to verbalize to them. So Stone and Fox rummage through the mounts of contraband they confiscated from natborns and GAR troopers alike as well as some of the Senator's unwanted gifts. They manage to procure some colorful woven bands and intricate pearls. Sadly the bigger hair clips would not fit under their buckets.

Eventually it's shy Thire taking all his courage and asking one of the Jedi he has seen wearing elaborate hair styles fit for duty for advice. Which is how he ends up being the vod to gently shave a clean line at Thorn's scalp and brush his locks with a comb the kind Jedi Knight had gifted him on top of scribbling down a detailed manual. Hound is in front of them, holding a mirror in one hand for Thorn to watch and the flimsi for Thire to read the instructions in the other. Grizzer is sprawled across crossed legs but her big head is occupying Thorn's lap. Even with the warm wet slobber sinking into his blacks and his hands grasping her head spikes Thorn can't take his eyes off Thire's careful movements in the mirror to look at Grizzer. She's a bit annoyed but her huff is met with Stone wiggling his slowly numbing legs, so she settles quickly.

When Thire finishes by weaving the last bead into the dark strands tying off a long braid he finally looks into the mirror catching Thorn's eyes. The quiet wonder and gratitude reflected back at him makes a smile stretch across his young face.

Thorn doesn't grow his hair back. He keeps the items his brothers found and occasionally asks one of them to rebraid his hair in a new way. Over time he realizes it's a relaxing almost meditative activity. So if an assignment gone wrong leaves someone's hands shaking he deems it a safe way to calm down his vode by asking for their help, all while making them focus on repetitive patterns sharing comfortable chatter and silence alike

#coruscant guard #corrie guard #comfort #commander thorn #commander thire #sergeant hound #commander stone #commander fox #star wars clone wars #star wars tcw #brainworms leave plotholes

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cutieeva · 3 days ago

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Oh shit ! I truly thought that (Y/N) has gone mad but it wasn't that way when I read the second episode !! 😔😔 I am sad for girly yet excited to read the next that's why please please please update fast 😘😘 (Also I love your writing, officially in love with you)

Bullied

Female Reader

Warnings : Bullying. Violence.

⌜ Thank you dearie for loving my art of writing, it never fails to makes me happy and here an belated update. ⌟

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒

Loving someone itself is an act of selfish so why is leaving the relationship seen so heinous ? Sometimes one's own sake of happiness is needed more than another's if fallen out of love. The sooner (Y/N) understand the better.

"What is going on in that table ?"

"Is the girl okay ?"

"Why is she making a big deal about all ?"

"He is such a lovely boy yet she is so nasty accusing him for cheating ?"

"If I had a boyfriend like that I would die from happiness".

"He should break up with her".

"She seem toxic".

"(Y/N) ! Stop it and get up". Sophia's irritated voice reach her ears and (Y/N) couldn't help but feel all is jumbled. All is unclear. All is numb because does her suffering doesn't matter ? Yes, perhaps she is overreacting yet is it her fault when he was the one to lie about everything ?

Slowly her (E/C) eyes met Sophia's and other accountances she calls friends and her heart dropped.

Her pale face in snarl.

Other's cheeks red from thoroughly shame.

Another can't even share a glance at her.

The beautiful woman standing in awkward.

The guests are whispering, increasingly harsh, scary and the workers worried.

And lastly Cameron, stood looking hurt. In pain than she was and all her beliefs, reality begin distorting.

Is she a nuisance ?

Is she really overreacting over everything like others ?

Is she the one in wrong for not trusting him ?

Is being dated on bet and built an relationship on lies is alright as long as the faulty party apologize ?

If once the trust she believes was broken in the worst way, then is she the one to create drama ?

Are lies not serious ?

Do lies have little meaning ? Is playing with someone else's feeling is a small price for a relationship she didn't even realize ?

Is she overreacting ? "Am I overreacting ?" Despite people surround her, her own few people even the boyfriend she loved once yet why she suddenly feels so alone ? Lonely ? And hopeless ?

Daze with piling doubts and thousand pairs of eyes watching her, her hand yanked by Cameron. "I am sorry, I apologize for the scene". Smiling like a good man he hold her shoulder and walk her limp body to his car he drove.

In the entirety none dare break the ice in air while Cameron was in disappointment, (Y/N) in utter confusion. All she discover is that she has fall out of love, maybe from the moment he said 'I am now' in front of the men along losing herself. For the fear to let go she latched onto him, gifting him the second chance only to realize her suspicious, love turn into anger and anger form an hatred. An hatred she didn't knew. An hatred so deep she was unable to see his goodness anymore only searching faults.

Her entire being of happy, blunt, forgiving shaped into such a stranger her own eyes have harder to see from the clear fog. She shaped into a vicious, incredulous person. A person she never even dreamed to become.

"Get off". Cameron's that soft, smooth voice rip her from the creeping shadows of words inside her mind and her haze gaze glance to find herself house. His home they decide to turn into their love nest.

Sliding down from the car, she walked towards the lift without waiting for him to follow and press the cold metal button. Her eyes dried from the tears that caught her reflection in the shining metal and she couldn't help find the dark circles weight heavy under her eyes, rim edges red and hair— a mess with barely appropriate clothes on. She looks nothing alike the neat, fresh (Y/N).

She looks wasted, used and worn off self— the door of the lifts snap her out again, she blink twice before stepping in properly. Their floor came faster than she expect and the moment the doorknob twist open. She close her eyes ready to be face with angry lashing, words like knives twisting her guts yet none came.

Rather he remove his coat, wash his hands and smile. "What shall we eat then ?"

She merely stare at him.

He continue to smile. The smile she doesn't find warming, sweet.

"Maybe something different. Like Pollo al Ajillo, in English known as Garlic Chicken ? Hmm ?" A single word didn't slip her lips, standing at her roots.

And without her reply he decided. She watched him not moving her an inch cooking, smiling like a normal couple. Minutes bled into hours and little to no care he serve the food, finally ripping her from her roots and sat her beside him.

Stomach churn in no hunger and eyes burden to open, she look at him. "Let's take a break". The metal spoon his fingers held pause, his smile creased.

"I-I need spac—".

"You don't". He cut off smoothly. His smile wider to it's length than before and the spoon between his fingers lay on the wooden table. "I know what happen today was a little overboard but do not worry. It was my fault after all and it's alright. I forgive you". Soft his eyes he push the plate of food to her, an gesture to eat.

However she couldn't. Her eyes couldn't rip from the oblivious face, acting all normal, when nothing is. Nothing is normal. Their relationship is falling apart, their love draft from one another and trust long out of the picture.

He so easily utter his denial. She doesn't need space, perhaps she doesn't but wouldn't he at least ask the reason behind ? Even if it's known still ask and not play the game of pretend. It's exhausting because they are a real couple not actors in a play.

"Would you not ask me why ?" Her voice in end crack.

"Would it make a difference ?"

"Yes, a lot". Honestly she shares, it will help her a lot to understand the real Cameron, the one who she fell for or the one she saw when the illusion shatter.

He turn his head to her. "We are doing alright. It will be fine. Look am I not improving myself ?" No, she only sees him now complying to her wishes easily.

"I need space". She look away, his face reminding her of those cherish days. "We both need space". She finished, adamant on seperating even if it's for a moment she wants to breath, the tightness on her chest is too much and the alarming mistrust.

Once a pot is broken, even with the finest potter's hands can't fix the remained lines of past.

"Okay". To her surprise he agreed "I see, you need time to cool your head". With that he stood up and went to their shared bedroom leaving her and the cold food behind.

Her finger hold the spoon to take a bite of the dish however few inches from her lips she pause. Staring at the food and can't help but cry of unable to eat at the end. Merely thinking how without waiting for her choice, he cooked the food, only giving an illusion of choices.

☾

When one announce their break up. People's first reaction is :

"Did he cheat ?"

"Did you cheat ?"

"Is he abusive ?"

"Manipulative ?"

"Controlling ?"

"A bet". (Y/N) would say. "I was a bet he was dared to date and in process he fell for me but he always treated not less than a princess and after I found out he begged, confessed his love. From then he always is perfect. Even ignoring my overreaction". All the voices stopped altogether. The harsh, doubtful all pause because in this picture nothing is wrong apart from the fact he was a liar, who lied and fixed himself for better. He really did but can it patch the wounds of her shattered faith in him ?

People always say second chance can change lives, do wonders and in her she saw. She can see why they give second chances yet she can't bring herself to love anymore. She is angry, stuck on the phrase where all laughed at her like a clown, whispering, betting for how long would she last.

Was she a human or a puppet ? He never defended her, he never share his thoughts with her. She doesn't even know him anymore. She really really is lost.

Even walking towards the metal gates of university seem heavy, scary. Her mind already twisted her vision of people laughing, hating her. Being the center of attention she so wants to be away from. Her (E/C) eyes glance around walking to her class recalling not to stumble upon them or him. She is enough exhausted. She doesn't need more.

BANG! She flinched, her nerves jolting.

BANG! Her eyelids snapped shut, shielding herself from the brutality.

BANG! The sound of flesh colliding with metal reverberated through her ears, leaving a buzzing ache. A human body, crumpling like a rag doll.

"Poor him. He should quit or complain". Not so subtle whispers like flicker of fire circle around, reaching her ears.

"Shouldn't he die at this rate ?" Cruel.

"What a bore. Really ? Everyday ? Isn't it such a nuisance—". Cruel. So, so cruel. Just because a person can't help himself doesn't give these people the chance to pity him. To paint him— the victim the cause of his own suffering. His silence was twisted into consent, his helplessness fuel for their merciless ridicule.

Cruel. Cruel. Cruel. Cruel. Laughter like devilish cackles echoed, faces feigning sympathy, eyes gleaming with fox-like innocence. Cowardly souls, masking their true nature.

She, too, wore a mask, hypocrisy veiling her own darkness.

That's why in a blink of an eye. Her once neat clean palm painted in crimson, stretch of iron reeking the air, painful grunts and horried screams and distorted yells is making no sense to her. She can't understand the aching in her palm, the cries of the familiar boy's underneath her, chanting of word fight and her own tears rolling down.

"Fight. Fight. Fright. Fright". The crowd roar fueling her more and more and more. Why are they encouraging ? Yet why does it feel like she is revelling in it ?

"(Y/N) ! Stop beating Adrian". Oh. Her palms ache because she is punching his face, painted in crimson because it's his blood, cries belong to Adrian who lay beneath her helpless like that boy he was seconds ago using as a ragdoll.

How wonderful.

She can't stop. She punch and punch and punch and punch uttering only three words. "I am sorry. I am sorry. I am sorry. I am sorry". Not to the bully— no never to Adrian. Never to the boy who is violent to innocent. It's to the victim, to the unknown jester of everyone's joke. For Everyone's play. For the system that enable Adrian's cruelty into fun.

She is sorry for blind. She is sorry for foolish. She is sorry for being coward. She is sorry for ignoring him. She is sorry for wearing mask of pretense herself. She is sorry for falling into the lies of Cameron. She is sorry for saying yes to his proposal. She is sorry for overreacting. She is sorry for suspecting. She is sorry for losing trust. She is sorry for not being happy with a perfect boyfriend.

She is sorry for fell in love.

She is sorry for.....everything.

To herself.

To everything.

☾

Dry tears stain her (S/C) cheeks as in empty space she stare, leaning on the chair in front of director's office. The woman's words faded into background noise, inaudible over the cacophony of her thoughts.

Her mind replayed the chaos: the frantic struggle, the flash of anger, the blur of fists. She couldn't recall who intervened, pulling her back from the brink of destruction. By then, he had already crumpled, unconscious. Her tangled hair bore witness to the scuffle, matted from the grasping hands of his minions, few blood dotted her blue jeans, a crimson constellation from her own nose. Her torn t-shirt hung askew, shoulder exposed while he— lay worse. Broken. Lifeless almost.

Yet no remorse stirred in her stomach, surprisingly. Instead, a lingering sense of justification lingered, eclipsed only by the anguish she felt for the victim. The one she had been compelled to defend, driven by a primal urge to protect she only dreamed.

"(Y/N), can you hear me?" The director's voice cut through the tension. "Do you comprehend the gravity of your situation? You're at risk of expelled !" An humorless laugh almost slip from (Y/N).

Expelled for what ? Punching a deserving scum to death while he punch an innocent boy to death when his skin wasn't even healed from the stitches of wounds Adrian left on him ?

(E/C) eyes stare at the female director who's blue glossy eyes stare at (Y/N) like she was a demon of chao when in her view, the real corrupt could be the adult, this lady who blind these physical, emotion abuse. Pain so small like (Y/N)'s bet and huge imprinting like that boy's scars for eternal to remember. Become something that etched in their memories, their experiences, though grave and painful, would be reduced to cautionary stories, diluted by time and retelling. The true weight of their suffering would remain unspoken, lost amidst the faint whispers of a forgotten past.

The tense standoff ended when the director's blue eyes darted past (Y/N), as if catching something She sighed audibly, her expression softening. "Get out. Reflect on your actions and the reasons for your two-week suspension. Expulsion is off the table." She mused confusing (Y/N)'s daze self a little and when she stood up, walking out of the room.

She understand meeting his concern eyes. Her boyfriend must have used his power.

Cameron swallowed under her intense gaze, part his lips to say when she continue to walk, aware of the pain in her body suddenly.

Alone in the empty hallway, she felt a fleeting sense of peace, liberated from the weight of others' judgments. Her footsteps echoed off the walls as she moved, ghost-like. Her eyes drifted to the scattered belongings on the floor, remnants of the chaos. She bent to gather them, her movements slow and deliberate.

A sudden twinge of pain shot through her knee as she crouched. (Y/N) winced, noticing the cut, a crimson gash on her pale skin. She gingerly touched the wound, her fingers tracing the tender edge. This time she felt like crying with clarity, like she knew what she was crying for along a need. Tears swell within her (E/C) eyes waiting to fall.

"It will hurt more if you cry". Calmly she gaze beside her. To the lockers where the boy slumped, his face still smeared with blood. The indifference surrounding him was palpable, as if no one cared about his suffering. (Y/N) press her lips, pulling a white handkerchief to hand him.

He accepted the handkerchief, his fingers brushing against hers. With gentle movements, he wiped the blood from his face, revealing a canvas of bruises and wounds beneath. For the first time, (Y/N) saw his true complexion – pale, with a hint of rosy undertones. The vibrant hues of his injuries – purple, blue, and crimson – stood in stark contrast to his delicate skin.

As the blood was wiped away, his features emerged, and (Y/N) noticed the sharp angles of his cheekbones, the gentle curve of his nose, and the softness of his lips.

"I am sorry". It fell out before she could revise or add.

"Don't be". He shake his head. "Everyone's coward. Even me". (Y/N) desire to protest of his own situation.

"I am talking about you". She blink. "You are Cameron's girlfriend". He utter like a fact. "All business major knew about a bet on a girl. They just didn't knew who until one of Cameron's friend told about your relationship making everyone realize who she is but wasn't sure". Her breath hitched. So they did. All did.

"I too, because I am from business major. Yet I was a coward to not say the truth or at least..." He tailed off. "Warn you". He finished heavy silence weight the air. (Y/N) inhale, not finding words to explain the mess of feelings she is having. Indeed both were jester of everyone's joke.

As she scoffed, her gaze trailed his movements, expecting him to walk away. But instead, he swooped down, his lithe frame folding into a crouch beside her. His amber eyes locked onto her knee, the cut a tiny, crimson gash.

Without a word, he reached out, his fingertips grazing her skin as he applied a band-aid. A shiver danced up her spine at the gentle touch.

"You know you're also being bullied?" His voice was low, concerned. Her eyes lift to his focused ones on her cut, whispering a "No".

"Bullying is not only physical you know. It can be emotional too. And what is happening to you is bullying too. An emotional one where he took advantage of your trust, then play with your feelings, manipulate you into staying in the relationship when you clearly in daze of the complexity and not in right state. If he truly cared about you, wouldn't he have asked how you felt or given you the space to think? Wouldn't he have prioritized your well-being over his own desires? But instead, he rushed you into this relationship, disregarding your boundaries and emotions". His words felt like sting of bees she couldn't process as the image of Cameron's pained face when she accused of him cheating in front of others.

His pure happiness when he pull the chair for her in front of her parents.

His patience when she was crying so suddenly and at the restaurant.

Her colleagues Sofia and others disturbed faces and harsh whispers.

"No. No. He is not perfect, yes. He is not good entirely. He is a liar but he improved. It is I who has problem. I fall out of love, mistrust him and..." Her throat felt dry to speak and she swallowed having difficulty seeing. The problem lies in her. She is the odd, fallen one.

The boy finally gaze his amber eyes and said. "If Cameron really is a good person. Not perfect, good. Then why in the first place are you lashing out and angrily pushing your anger on Adrian ? And in a mess mindset ?" It left (Y/N) shunned. Because truly did she blames Cameron for her misery. Hates him for his mockery of perfection. However never did she blame him for his entanglement to this relationship based on lies for her was truth.

"Let's assume Cameron is a good person who genuinely cares for you and loves you deeply, but isn't able to let you go. However, if being with him no longer brings you happiness— not because of his flaws, but because your feelings have changed and you're staying solely out of guilt or obligation, don't you think it's time to reevaluate? For your own sake, shouldn't you prioritize your happiness even if it's selfishness ?"

As he stood, dusting off his pants, (Y/N) lifted her gaze to meet his. His eyes held a gentle intensity. "After all, loving someone is, in itself, a selfish act," he added, his voice low and thoughtful.

"I am saying this because you came out of your cowardness for me and I for you". the boy said, wincing as he gingerly touched his jaw. "I should get to the nurse," he added, his voice laced with discomfort.

She swiftly stood up, her hand brushing against his arm with an awkward yet tender touch. "Let me help."

"No, it's okay..." He trailed off, his mind reeling as a wave of dizziness washed over him. His legs weakened, and he swayed precariously, almost toppling over.

(Y/N)'s eyes widened in alarm as she swiftly grasped his arms, her grip tight.

𝑻𝒐 𝑩𝒆 𝑪𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒖𝒆𝒅

☾ ────────

#dark romance #female reader #male yandere #x reader #yanderexreader #yandere community #yandere x fem reader #chubby reader #obsession #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x female reader #angst #light angst #romance

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dyns33 · 3 days ago

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The Best Friend part 2

Yes I made a lil 3 parts series for Homelander and his bestie.

If Y/N had to give John one good point, it was that he had been honest.

He could have said nothing, and she probably would have never known.

But at the same time, he wasn't completely stupid, and it wasn't a good idea to keep secrets like that.

Because he himself didn't like being lied to, promising that it would never happen between them, but also that he was giving Firecracker power over him, who could have threatened to tell her everything if he didn't do what she wanted.

Maybe she was blinded by admiration at the moment, claiming that she was at his beck and call and that she wouldn't ask for anything in return, but John knew people. He couldn't trust her.

"I'm not attracted to her at all, I told her that."

"… That reassures and consoles me enormously, John."

"Look, I understand that you're angry. But it was just once, just once ! A moment of weakness. I was exhausted, a lot of things had happened, you weren't there…"

"So it's my fault ?"

"No." He growled before sighing, trying to keep his cool. "I didn't say that. She was very persuasive. How does she know that I… Anyway, it was a mistake. I can fire her, she's no use to me. That idiot is loyal, I can ask her anything I want, but one word from you and she's gone. I can even kill her if you ask."

A lot of people wouldn't know how to react in this situation.

Normally it wasn't a good idea to upset the Homelander. You had to agree with him, not cry, not yell, not talk back. It was already an accomplishment that he admitted he had made a mistake.

Maybe he hadn't apologized, but Y/N was probably smart enough to know that he was sorry and that she should forgive him.

Anyone else would have eventually said sorry, taking the blame on them and making excuses for his cheating.

But besides the fact that she had been his only friend during his childhood, John loved Y/N because she wasn't afraid of him. And that meant she wasn't going to give in when he had hurt her.

"Your solution to a problem always has to be murder. Really, John, we're not eight years old anymore."

"Exactly, that's why we're talking like two adults."

"I'm waiting."

"What ?"

"For you to act like an adult."

Then John chuckled. He put on his eternal air of a guilty child who pretended not to understand what he had done wrong, disturbed that someone dared to corner him in this way, him, the great Homelander.

But seeing that Y/N was staring at him without saying anything, waiting, he quickly regained his seriousness, hiding his embarrassment behind a mask of annoyance.

"I just told you that I wouldn't do it again. She doesn't attract me at all, she's pathetic. I only love you. I've only ever loved you, since forever. The others were nothing, distractions, puppets. You're the only one who really knew me, who made me happy."

"I'm waiting."

"You don't want me to cut her in two, and I can't go back in time by flying around the Earth in the opposite direction of rotation contrary to what some idiots think, I don't see what I can do."

"Apologize."

"… Sorry." he mumbled, looking down, showing a pout.

"No. Better than that, John. Give me your most sincere apologies."

At this point, someone else would already be dead, or at least facing a furious and threatening supe, ready to use his lasers to silence her.

But Y/N was really not just anyone. Realizing that she would not change her mind, John mumbled, hands on his hips, before displaying his fake stage smile.

"I'm so sorry."

"I'm still waiting."

"… I should never have done that, it was pathetic of me. I love you more than anything and I shouldn't take it for granted, you deserve to be treated with respect. Forgive me."

"Hmm. Almost but not yet." she decided, holding back a smile.

She was still angry, but Y/N was ready to forgive him. After all these years, she knew how John was. She knew he would never have said the word "sorry" if he didn't mean it, and he wouldn't have confessed anything if he didn't really care about her.

But the moment was tasty and she wanted to make the most of it, so that he would learn his lesson well.

"What ? You want me to get on my knees ?"

"That would be a good start."

"… Fine."

Y/N had said that as a joke. In truth, she didn't really know what she was waiting for, only that she wanted it to last a little longer. It was impossible to tell whether or not she liked seeing John at her feet, staring at her with fear.

"I'm sorry. Don't leave me."

"Oh, John…"

"I know I can be difficult. You're always good and patient with me, even though I don't deserve it at all. I love you. If you left me, I would die, truly. The day they took you from me, I thought I was having a heart attack. I couldn't breathe. I would destroy everything if you disappeared again."

It wasn't exactly a reassuring statement. It could even have been taken as blackmail or a threat. But John would never hurt Y/N, she knew that.

He would kill everyone else, leaving only them, but he would tear off an arm rather than hurt her.

Tenderly, she stroked his hair, then his cheek, before leaning in to kiss him.

"I forgive you, John."

"Hmm."

"I love you too, I'm not going to leave you."

"Thanks."

"Get up now."

"Hmm. I don't know, I like the view." he said with a small smile. She followed his gaze, still leaning over, understanding that this way he had a full view of her chest and crotch.

The small pat he took on your head made him snicker, as did Y/N's falsely outraged look.

"I know another way to make it up to you."

"It wouldn't really be a punishment."

"I'll just be a little sad if I can't find any milk. But we could also do something to change that."

"Why are you never serious ?" she sighed, rolling her eyes.

The apology ended like that, because she received a call that caught her full attention. Y/N didn't look at John either, who never left her, dangerously serious, and fixed on her stomach.

#the boys #homelander #homelander x reader #homelander imagine #homelander fanfiction

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hpalways · 1 day ago

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in another lifetime

charas: timebomb drabble (ekko x powder) synopsis: as ekko thinks back to his journey from the other universe, he wonders and regrets what could've been in this timeline. warning: spoilers a/n: arcane hurt me so now i have to write angst for it LOL, they are my unbecoming frfr i miss them sm. also heard theories that jinx is still alive (im coping BYE) tho so maybe ill have to write another thing where he finds her

That singular night was still vivid in his mind to relive through, over and over again. From the strobing lights to the taints of her blue hues glimmering mischievously, he could just about see it if he closed his eyes. She was so close to him, so beautiful in a white, pure dress that he could not look at anything else. Her cute little dance moves that slowed down time for him and the sway of her short blue hair. Just a reach of his arm... would he be able to feel her warmth?

Of course not. It was now a memory to be tucked away. In this cold, sad world that he fought to survive in, he could not save the one he desperately wished to.

Ekko raised his arm toward the stars in the sky, laying there. So far yet so close. The stars represented her, burning bright until the very end.

When he first heard news that Jinx was gone, his gut dropped down to levels of hell, a torment of agony and lament drowning him in waves. How could it possibly be? She was the one that always came back from the dead to haunt him, a thorn to his side he could not get rid of. But now, she was gone, the moment he tried to reach out to her again.

He wondered.

He wondered so bad.

Boy Savior she called him. It made him so angry back then. So angry he turned his back on her, accepting the fact that he would never see the same girl he once was so close to.

But now he wondered if he gave up on her too soon.

Deep down all along, Powder was in there. The pain that she endured to live the way she had, she did everything to survive. But his cowardice could not face that. He could not see the suffering or the light that had disappeared from her gaze. The glimpse of her scared face beneath his grasp during their fight looked so much like... Powder. And yet, he still could not save her. Instead, he watched Silco carry her away, for her to continue the path of destruction.

When he found her there in her hideout, prepared to end it all, he could finally see the scope of it all. No longer was he shrouded in an endless cycle of rage and resentment, and for once, he could see it with a clear vision.

He should have tried harder -- to be at her side, save her of the demons that chased her.

She had painted him of her colors, her touch tickling his skin as he watched the furrow of her concentrated brow. Jinx was different from Powder in the other timeline, more rough and shrivel, her scowl imprinted on her lips. He realized he didn't mind it though.

Then they went off to war, only for one of them to return.

He... missed her.

Now all that was left of were his spiraling thoughts, of what ifs and regrets.

He pressed his fist against his forehead, feeling the heat of tears swarm from the corner of his eyes. Where he had been with Powder in the other universe on the same rooftop overlooking Piltover, he was now alone, the quiet unbearable.

Powder's words rang in his mind, a push for him to keep going.

"Sometimes taking a leap forward means leaving a few things behind."

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kaoskuantico · 1 day ago

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In case someone hasn’t seen Act III yet, ARCANE ACT III SPOILERS

Mirroring my previous post about things I hated about Season 2 (click), I'll write another list with the things I LIKED

The art, animation, soundtrack...I think we can all agree Arcane created a before and after in the Animation industry and artists all over the world (although I only liked Ashes and Blood, Isha's song and Remember Me. The rest are a bit meh for me)

Jinx realizing she can be a good person when she met Isha. And she almost realized she doesn't have to choose between Powder and Jinx personas, she's both.

Sevika bonding with Jinx, both of them mourning Silco and getting to work together. Jinx making a whole new arm for her, basically.

Vi realizing Jinx has good in her when she saw how Jinx treated Isha.

Ekko stopping Jinx from killing herself five times and being patient with her.

I don't like Timebomb, but the dance scene being at 4 fps representing Ekko's ability to rewind time 4 seconds was on top.

Ekko not even hesitating to find the way back home, choosing to leave this perfect life and timeline behind.

The pianist who went to the war. He wasn't made for this, but he chose to be there.

Loris leaving Vi when she pushed him away. Loris tried to help her, but she refused it, so he had to leave for his own good.

That Jinx's follower who first touched her shoulder in prison, dying just like that during the attack. I liked how they showed people were dying without it being spectacular, they're just gone.

Vi trusting in Jinx when Vander/Warwick found them in the mines and was berserk. Vi chose to hug him instead of fighting, as she has always done with every conflict.

Jinx's first action when she found out Vander is alive being to look for her sister and find him together, not wanting to commit the same mistake.

Jinx being unable to shoot Vi when she had the opportunity to do so, in Act I.

Sevika ignoring the original plan and protecting both Jinx and Isha.

The Jinx vs Vi fight from Act I, they weren't trying, at least not as hard as Sevika and Cait. Vi had Jinx at her mercy a few times but didn't kill her, and in the second half of the fight, Jinx basically only slaps her face.

Jinx and Vi's interaction in Act II. It felt refreshing, seeing them 'fight' in a much lighter tone.

Jayce telling Viktor there's beauty in imperfections, that he admired him. It contrasts with Viktor's desire to make everything perfect (but including Viktor's terminal disease was weird).

Viktor and Jayce meeting in every timeline, Jayce being Viktor's salvation.

Viktor saying that trying to heal Warwick was a risk worth taking.

Isha seeing Jinx beyond the Powder/Jinx dichotomy and being the one to bring that happy nature from her (I loved Jinx acting as commentator just to make it fun for Isha).

Jinx being OFFENDED because an enforcer insulted her pants.

Jinx using her new mechanical finger (with a face painted on it) to give the middle finger to the enforcer who hit on her.

Sevika knowing how much Isha meant for Jinx, and Sevika not making fun of her when Jinx had another hallucination (after months of not having them). Sevika looked concerned.

Jinx protecting Caitlyn in Act II (although Cait never did something similar for her).

Mel's story centered on her family and not any romance.

Jinx's skills with her gun and her enhanced abilities thanks to the shimmer. She's so cool with her gun and managed to stay on her feet against Warwick at the beginning.

Jinx writing her name on her cheek just like Vi did (and it's funnier because Jinx did it by following the image in the mirror).

The voice acting. Especially Ella Purnell (Jinx's voice actress). They're all perfect for the roles, and Ella's raspy voice is the cherry on top.

Powder in the other timeline still having the hallucinations but showing she became Jinx because of her environment. She's much healthier and se's a genius in both timelines, it's her environment which decides if she'll use it to create weapons or to have a fun science competition.

I'll keep updating the list for a few days.

#arcane #arcane spoilers #arcane season 2 #arcane s2 #arcane caitlyn #arcane vi #arcane caitvi #arcane jinx #caitlyn kiramman #arcane analysis #media analysis #arcane isha #arcane warwick #arcane jayce #arcane viktor #arcane vander #arcane ekko #pinned post

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sweet-self-indulgence · 2 days ago

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Heyyy, so I saw a post on Michaelas blog talking about MC teaching Sam or Damien how to read while teasing them and such, I DMd you the post. Do you think you can write that with Sam and Mika?

I had so much fun writing the teasing part of this!

Private Tutoring

Reading lessons aren’t going well for Sam. Mika finds that he can focus better when she uses her tongue, but soon the teacher is distracted from the lesson.

“Fuck this! I’ve gone a hundred years as an illiterate idiot. I can spend the next hundred the same way!”

Damien lays a hand on Mika’s shoulder, keeping her from darting out after Sam, “He needs a minute.”

She blows out a sigh in an attempt to clear the jitters from Sam’s startling outburst. “ I just don’t know what to do. I know memorization is boring, but I don’t want to treat him like a child….”

Mika drops her head into her hands and groans, “and now he hates me.”

Damien pats her back, “You know he doesn’t hate you”

“He hates me as a teacher then.” Mika pouts.

He chuckles, “I don’t think Sam is capable of hating any part of you.” Shaking his head he adds almost under his breath, “Himself on the other hand…”

Mika is halfway to the library door before she turns towards Damien guiltily.

“Go”, He waves a hand lazily “I’ve got these worksheets to finish.”

Mika finds Sam on the roof.

He watches her carefully as she hoists herself up from the window, “You shouldn’t be up here with your fragile human bones.”

“You shouldn’t be up here with your fragile demon ego” Mika rolls her eyes before wincing at the offended look on Sam’s face.

She sucks a breath through her teeth, “Sorry, that’s not what I came up here to do.”

Sam groans and pushes his fingers through his hair roughly, “No, It’s a fair hit. I bet I sounded like a spoiled brat back there.”

Mika sits next to him, “Nah, just a frustrated one.”

He huffs through his nose, “That’s putting it mildly.”

“Do you…need some more time alone?” Mika starts to get up but is stopped by Sam’s hand on her own.

“No! it’s just…” words seem to fail him for a few moments before they all come tumbling from his mouth, “I feel so fucking stupid. There’s a million tiny squiggles that have names and make noises, but sometimes they make different noises. Like, how can anyone learn all that crap! But Damien gets it! And then I realize I’m jealous of Damien for sounding out ‘the cat sat on the fuckin’ mat’, which is stupid and pathetic!”

Sam’s face turns bright red at his outburst. He covers it with his hands and falls back onto the roof, “The only thing my brute head is good for is takin’ hits.”

Mika blinks back her surprise at the rollercoaster of emotions. “I wish you wouldn’t talk about my friend like that.” She finally murmurs.

“I’ll apologize to Damien later” Sam mumbles through his hands.

“I was talking about you, doofus!”

He’s suddenly in her face, eyes wide, and cheeks flushed, “You can’t call me that!”

“Why not?” Mika cocks her head, curious about this sudden passion.

“Be- because that’s what I call you!”

“So?”

Everything about Sam seems to soften. When he finally speaks his voice has a softer, richer tone “So it’s special, okay?”

“Oh… O-okay.” It’s Mika’s turn to blush.

“You’re special.” Sam’s low voice affects her more strongly than any enthrallment. Mika’s heart races, deepening the shade of red on her face and making her palms feel sweaty where they grip the roof like a lifeline.

When she notices his eyes flick down to her lips, she closes the short distance between them.

The kiss is soft and passionate. Their lips move in a steady rhythm against each other, every movement makes Mika feel warmer and warmer. Her chest constricts with emotion, and she has to pull back to catch her breath.

The starstruck look Sam gives her has Mika diving back into him. She straddles his lap as she grips his shoulders. The second kiss is deep and needy. Mika pulls Sam impossibly closer as his tongue swirls inside her mouth.

Sam moves to kiss at the side of her throat and Mika rolls her hips into him in response.

“Oh, Mika”

The girl shivers at the feeling of his lips forming her name on her sensitive neck. Sam repeats her name, and an idea forms in Mika’s mind.

She drops her head to his ear and whispers, “Sam”

Mika grins wickedly as the demon shudders underneath her.

Starting just below his earlobe, she traces an ‘s’ with the tip of her tongue. An ‘a’ takes up the middle of his neck, and Mika gently tugs down the collar of his short to make room for the ‘m’ gracing his collarbone.

“Wait? Was that—”

Mika places a gentle finger of his lips as she moves to his other side.

She repeats the process of whispering his name and carefully tracing each letter.

This time when she finishes Sam exhales a quiet statement, “My name.”

“Ah, so you can spell when your… attention is on it.” Mika teases with a wink.

“Not funny.” Sam huffs.

“Not trying to be.” Mika says gently as she cups the side of his face. “A good teacher meets the needs of her student. And I think you need some hands on learning.”

She emphasizes her point by sliding her free hand down his chest. Her fingers come to the hem of his shirt and tug at it, “Your other name has a lot more letters.”

Sam whips his shirt off and stares at her expectantly. Mika gently pushes on his shoulders until he’s lying back on the roof.

Mika’s hair slides forward to frame her face as she bends down to whisper in his ear, “Aomaris.”

The demon’s hands fly up to grab Mika’s hips, they move with her as she hovers over his chest. Her tongue traces an ‘a’ on his pectoral, the ‘o’ follows below it. Mika can feel his abs clenching under her tongue as it writes ‘m’ ‘a’ ‘r’ ‘i’ down his stomach. She takes her time demonstrating a languid ‘s’ down Sam’s hipbone.

She crawls back up his body slowly chanting, “A-O-M-A-R-I-S.” When she reaches his face her lips ghost over his as she whispers, “Aomaris.”, before lowing herself the final distance to kiss him properly.

When their lips part Sam pleads, “Show me again… please.”

Mika dives to his other side. Her lips press against his neck as she says his name again. She repeats the ‘a’ on his other pectoral, but elects to circle his nipple with her ‘o’. Sam’s grip of her hips tightens. Mika’s tongue moves slowly for the ‘m’ ‘a’ ‘r’ ‘i’ , savoring the taught muscle of her canvas. Her final ‘s’ dips even lower than the first, her tongue exploring the space where Sam’s hip dips below the fabric of his waistband.

Mika is breathless as she groans, “Aomaris” just above the button of Sam’s jeans. She feels a pulsing against her cheek as he groans her name in response.

She bites the fabric surrounding the button and yanks it free. Her tongue plays with the zipper as Sam’s breath hitches.

When the zipper is finally lowered, Mika wastes no time sliding his boxers down. His thick cock springs free and bounces against her cheek. Sam makes a small noise in the back of his throat.

As Mika licks up from the base to the tip, she marvels at how it has fit inside her before and wonders if it will fit anywhere else. When the tip of Mika’s tongue flicks over the tip of Sam’s length it twitches mightily. Sam begins unraveling, “Shit. Fuck, Mika!”

She pops the head in her mouth and swirls her tongue around it a few times, eliciting another string of curses, “Oh hells, your mouth! Fuck, fuck, fuck.” Sam’s hands move to grab her ass. Mika moans into him and he gasps.

Mika decides to test her theory. Her mouth slides slow down a few inches before moving back up again. With each bob of her head Mika gets another inch into her throat. The demon’s words have become mostly incoherent, “Mnnn Mika. Yes. Please…. Fuck.”

A few tantalizing inches short, Mika gags hard and sits up to catch her breath. From where he lays on the roof, Sam guides Mika to straddle his hips. He grinds into her core to emphasize each word, “You. Are. So. Fucking. Hot.”

Mika shudders at the feeling of a cock pushing against her folds, separated by her thin panties. She slides her skirt higher up her hips and slides her panties to the side, “Fuck me.”

Sam uses one hand to line himself up with her entrance and the other to hold her chin close to his face. All at once Mika sees his eyes glow a bright gold while the tingling sensation of enthrallment washes over her body and his cock slides inside her.

Mika’s mind is immediately lost in pleasure. She grinds down with small quick thrusts, already tasting the beginning of her orgasm.

It’s all Sam can do to match her intensity as he grunts out more curses between clenched teeth. “Fuck, Mika. Ride me! Hells you feel amazing. Don’t stop. Shit, don’t stop.”

It doesn’t take long until the enthrallment peaks. Mikas nails dig into Sam’s biceps as his fingers bruise her hips.

As the haze of her arousal fades Mika suddenly feels exposed on the roof, “H-how about we, ummm…” she glances awkwardly at where they’re still connected.

Sam eases out of her with a small gasp and carefully replaces her underwear and skirt. “Let’s go inside.”

Mika nods.

Before she can climb off his lap, Sam sits up and whispers into her ear suggestively, “but I’m not done with you yet. There are so many more words I want to spell with you ~”

#seduce me otome #seduce me the otome #seduce me #seduceme #ask #fanfiction #seduce me fanfiction #seduce me mika #sam x mika #seduce me sam

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