#I’m still working on more dynamic poses

[little-pondhead]

I love her a normal amount.

[skzdarlings]

06. sharing a bed series ; skz ; felix

masterlist.

sharing a bed series part 6/8. because it’s the cheesiest most classic trope and it’s FUN. -

pairing: lee felix/reader content info: sexual content. enemies2lovers, sharing a bed trope. bodyguard au. a dose of angst. open ending. past violence and parental abuse mentioned. ongoing perilous situation and forced proximity. not the healthiest dynamic lol. spanking, some rough play, hair-pulling, throat-grabbing, overstimulation, crying during sex, mention of past unprotected sex, a more dominant felix and a kinda bratty reader.

-

You kick open your bedroom door.  As usual, no one is home except for you and Felix so you are free to scream and curse and stomp all you want. 

“I can’t fucking believe you!” you shout among a flurry of other colourful words.   

Felix enters behind you with his hands in his pockets, looking as nonchalant as ever. 

Felix’s perpetual calmness is half the reason your father hired him.  The other reason is that Felix was the best behaved boy in the world who grew into the most pristine, perfect man.  Your father did not claw his way to the top of the industrial world by settling for anything less than the best.  Lee Felix is the best.  Your father trusts him with everything and anything, including wrangling his rambunctious daughter.  Felix’s job is to guard and protect you – from others and from yourself.   He is annoyingly good at it.    

Felix is the prettiest, loveliest, sweetest man on the outside, particularly selected for his unassuming attributes.  An obvious bodyguard figure draws unwanted attention.  Felix, however, attended high school and college with you, posing as a fellow student and never looking out of place, always appearing gentle and ordinary and kind.  Behind that, he is a lethally competent bodyguard.  Your skinny, freckled, fair-haired watchdog can subdue any adversary. 

Including the one tonight. 

“I was just doing my job,” Felix says.  He closes your bedroom door and locks it out of habit even though you are home alone.  He is still completely uncaring to your crisis, as fucking usual, wandering around like he is a sensitive little lamb, smiling and content. 

You throw yourself down on your bed with a dramatic heave. 

“You broke his arm!” you cry.   

Felix is standing at your desk, removing his work equipment.  He is dressed like a civilian for the most part, denim pants with a windbreaker and a button-down over a t-shirt.  He lays the jacket over the back of the chair and sighs, looking at his reflection in your vanity mirror.   He runs a hand through his hair, still casual, feathering the dyed locks so they flutter back into place.   

“I was just doing my job,” he repeats.  He undoes the button-down and tosses it aside, then kicks his shoes under the desk.  

Felix is all sharp lines and harsh angles, slender but athletic.  His cheekbones are high, his angular face softened by his dark eyes and endearing freckles.   That sweetness is juxtaposed by the gun harness strapped across his back. 

You swallow.  The harness hits the floor, then he grabs the back of the t-shirt and yanks it swiftly over his head.  It joins the pile of discarded articles. 

He sits on the desk chair with a distracted sigh, dutifully disassembling the gun for an inspection or cleaning or whatever nonsense Felix has decided is more important than your conversation.  

“His arm,” you repeat.  “You broke his arm.  He was a completely innocent guy!  I’m allowed to flirt with guys!  Just because you’re my daddy’s good dog and he doesn’t let you get your dick wet, doesn’t mean I have to suffer too.” 

Felix looks at you, his mouth a thin line with his unamused smile. 

“Cute,” he says.  He drops the smile and his distinctive deep voice drops another decibel when he says, “You can flirt.  Just not with him.”

“His arm—”

Felix closes the gun and puts it on the desk. 

“I think he was lucky I didn’t rip it off for grabbing you like that, don’t you think?”  Felix says.  He asks it so nicely too, tipping his head imploringly, like he really wants an answer.  Not that he waits.  Just as soon as the smile comes, it goes, replaced with a eye roll as he gets to his feet. 

“Get ready for bed,” Felix says.  “And, mmm, that’s not a request by the way.  I’m phoning your dad to tell him we’re home safe.” 

He doesn’t give you a chance to argue, just leaves the room while reaching into his back pocket for his phone.  He closes the door behind himself, leaving you to fume by your lonesome. 

Out of rebellious frustration, you do not budge an inch.  You cross your arms and sit back on your bed, still dressed in your evening outfit.  You can distantly hear Felix speaking in a formal voice and it makes you twitch with anticipation. 

Felix being so professional is simultaneously his most annoying and most attractive quality.  Annoying, because he really never falters on the clock.  Attractive, because it wouldn’t be any fun pushing him to the boundaries of his rules if he wasn’t such a stickler in the first place.

When Felix returns, still wearing nothing more than his jeans, his expression immediately turns exasperated.  He closes the door and puts his hands on his hips, staring down at you.  

You stare straight ahead, arms and ankles crossed.   You and Felix have shared a bed since the day he was hired, back when you were teenagers, as you were in the habit of sneaking out at night.  You were not intimidated by the chubby-cheeked teenage boy, gleefully slipping past him while he slumbered – until suddenly you were being yanked back through the window.  You learned the hard way that despite his appearance and disposition, he was an especially skilled martial artist.    

As your father continues to accrue enemies in every market, you cannot live life on your own, not without endangering it.  You still need Felix.  You still share a bed.  Everything you do, you do with Felix, whether you like it or not.  Felix expresses little feeling on that front, a perpetual font of seeming sunshine when he isn’t breaking someone’s arm.

You know you are being mightily petulant by keeping him up, but you don’t care.   If you can’t have what you want then neither can he.   You can stay up all night, just staring and glaring at each other contemptuously.  You are happy to let all that mutual disdain simmer through its achingly slow burn. 

“Really?”  Felix says.  “Do we have to do this tonight?” 

“I’m not doing anything,” you say.   

“Right.”  He laughs dryly but sits gingerly on his side of the bed.  He smiles, his eyes crinkling sweetly with pleasure.  His hair is getting longer again, sweeping his neck, and you watch as he delicately tucks some behind his ear.   He leans on one arm, looking at you.  “I’ll ask you nicely then, sweetheart.” 

Ooh, that’s a low blow and he knows it.  The word sweetheart always sounds so rich in his mouth, his accent softening the heart of it.  Hopefully he misses the way you melt, but you doubt it. 

His smile only deepens. 

“Please, please get ready for bed,” he says.  “It’s been a long day, yeah?  And we’re both so tired.  Come on.  Let’s go.  Just need some rest I think.  Yeah, yeah, let’s go.” 

You do not move.    

You hear him sigh, a melodic sound.  He runs his hand through his hair again. 

“All right,” he says, soulfully.  “All right.  Fine.” 

You hear the sharper inflection in his tone but you react a moment too late.  Your bed is big, big enough you could starfish without even brushing his side of the bed, so it takes you a second to scamper to the opposite side. 

That second is too long.  Felix reaches out and grabs you by the calf, dragging you across the bed.

“Don’t you dare,” you say, kicking at him to no avail.   “I’ll phone my dad!”

He is completely undeterred by your dramatics, only sighing when he hauls you over his lap. 

“Go ahead,” he says.  “I’m allowed to use, uhhh, what’d he say… discretion… mm… to discipline you if I think I need to.” He puts his phone within your reach.  It is not a genuine gesture of goodwill so much as it is taunting you because you both know your father would take his side.   “Well?” he asks.  “Do you want to phone him?”   

“I hate you,” you say.

“I know,” he replies.  “Sorry.” 

He sounds like he means it, though it’s hard to believe him when he flicks up your dress and swings his open palm across your ass.  His hand comes down four more times before he neatly fixes your skirt again. 

“Bed time?” he asks brightly, like everything has been solved with no problem. 

You crawl off his lap while grumbling irritably, doing your best to ignore the smarting on your behind when you turn over to glare at him.  He is just smiling at you, that thin-lipped way he smiles with dry humour. 

“I hate you,” you say again. 

He waves his hand, gesturing the vaguest, blandest sentiment of meh with its wiggle.  

“I’m just doing my job,” he says for the millionth time. 

“Really?” you reply with as much sarcasm as he usually gives.  He hears it, tilting his head like a curious cat, as if he has no idea why you could possibly be upset with him – though the stupid little upturn to his lips tells you that he knows exactly why.  

You hate him.  You really, really do hate him.  You have never hated anyone the way you hate him and you want to shout it from the roof.  But you can’t do that.  You can only say it to his face in private, in whatever way you can.  

You reach without warning, cupping the bulge between his legs and finding a lot more than a denim crinkle.  His gaze darkens, his hand covering yours warningly, though he doesn’t lift it away.

You adopt a saccharine sweet tone when you speak.

“Do you tell my daddy that when you discipline me you get hard?” you ask, batting your eyelashes. 

He moves your hand to his thigh instead, shaking his head. 

“Stop being silly,” he says.  “Go get ready for bed.” 

Your eyes follow him as he stands.  He doesn’t get far when you grab his belt loop and tug him back.   Felix has fast reflexes and is incredibly coordinated, so you find it hard to believe you sincerely bested him, but he stumbles as if you did.   He stands where you want him, where he’s close enough for you to kneel on the bed and press your face right against his bulge. 

He says your name in a warning voice, his already deep voice dropping more.

“I wonder…” you say, nuzzling your nose against the ridge in the denim, where you can feel him hard and getting harder still.  “When my daddy asks you what we do all day,” you say, flicking your eyes up to his, “do you tell him your dick spends more time in my mouth than in your pants?”

His nostrils flare with his next breath. 

You smile, victorious. 

“He still thinks you’re his perfect soldier, doesn’t he?” you ask.  “You can do no wrong.  Little does he know…”

“I do my job,” Felix says.  “And I do a good job.  Okay? That’s all that matters.”   

You start to open your mouth, one hand climbing towards his fly.   You stop with a gasp when he fists a chunk of your hair, tugging your head away from him.  It sends a hot shock rippling through you, flooding you with the recollection of all the times he grabbed your hair and pulled you closer, the times he cupped your head and put himself in your mouth despite knowing better, the number of times he fucked between your pretty lips and forgot to be proper, cursing so much it was practically poetry. 

This time he guides you away and you whimper miserably.  He does not loosen his grip, his fingers threading closer to your scalp so it both hurts less and holds stronger.   He knows better than to just let go.   He knows you perfectly.  You glare at him. 

“Look at me,” he says, because your gaze dropped to his bulge again.  “I said look at me.”   He tugs your hair so you obey, giving him your most annoyed expression.  “You’re listening, yeah?” he says.  He doesn’t wait for an answer.  “You’re going to go to your closet.  Get ready for bed.  Sleep.  You’re going to do that,” his voice turns frighteningly pleasant, “or I’m going to carry you over there and get you ready myself.” 

“Like when we were leaving the club tonight?” you ask just as sweetly.  “And you put me over your shoulder then, oops, something happened when we were in the limo, didn’t it?” 

He lets go of you, exhaling tiredly in a high-pitched breath.

“Where did all your pretty rings go, Felix?” you ask, reaching for his bare hand, usually adorned with rings.  “Did they fall on the floor in the limo when you decided you had to shove your hand up my skirt?”   

Leaving the club, you were both wired.  Felix was honestly justified in breaking that guy’s arm.  You purposefully chose the creepiest, shadiest guy in the club to lead on, knowing Felix would appear two seconds later to rescue you.   He always does.  No one else ever pays you any personal attention and your life is too complicated for romance, so you thrive on the feeling of someone caring enough to always find you – even if it’s literally his job. 

You also like getting mad at him for overreacting, but you like his overreactions.   Him twisting and breaking that creep’s arm honestly turned you on.  It also got Felix all worked up, a bit pissed because you were being irresponsible again but nonetheless heated.  You thought for sure he’d take you home and go crazy and fuck you in the foyer.  Instead he put up the limo divider and one-by-one removed his rings, giving you ample time to refuse before he covered your mouth tightly and slid his other hand up between your thighs. 

Of course, despite bringing you to the edge several times, he never let you finish.  Because he’s the worst. 

And now you’re all worked up and he’s shirtless and being a stupid, pretty, two-faced bitch.

“I—”  you start. 

He rolls his eyes and says, “I know. I know.  You hate me.  Now go.”

You get up, stomping all the way to your walk-in closet.  You can’t even slam the door because it’s a sliding one, but you make the biggest possible demonstration of closing it anyway. 

You get ready for bed.   You briefly consider dressing provocatively or even strolling out there naked, but in the end you decide to just dress in your ugly, comfy, over-sized t-shirt and march angrily back into the room. 

Felix is gone when you return, probably off to double-check the house security one last time before joining you.   You could try climbing out the window and down the terrace, just to be ridiculous, but he’ll catch up sooner than later and be even more annoying about it.   So you get into bed and turn off the lights, laying down with a huff, blankets pulled up to your chin. 

You get a bit dozy before Felix returns, the creaking door snapping you awake.  You look over your shoulder and watch him finally shuck the jeans.  He gets into bed in his boxers, removing his earrings once under the covers.  He puts on the bedside table, then double-checks his gun is in the drawer, then and then only then does he lay down. 

The big bed leaves an ocean of space between you.  You roll over to face him.  His eyes are closed but there’s no way he is already asleep. 

“Felix,” you whisper, even though the big house is empty, “I’m cold.”

“There’s another blanket in the closet,” he says without opening his eyes. 

You slide across the bed, close enough to reach out and put a hand on his chest.  He opens his eyes and stares straight up. 

“I need a cuddle,” you say.  “Or I’ll have nightmares.” 

“You’re not a child anymore,” he says. 

That is maybe one thing you miss about the time before you and Felix started… this.  When things were still innocent between you, he would often let you snuggle up with him.  Now, he keep his distance.  Now, he doesn’t hug or hold you. 

So no one does.    

“We’re still young,” you say, a dumb argument, but you’re tired and out of ideas. 

“I was never as young as you,” he grumbles, more to himself than you.  He seems to realize what he said and shakes his head.  He pats your hand on his chest then rolls over, leaving his back to you. 

You slowly return your hand to yourself, staring at the back of his head with an uncharacteristic prickling of tears. 

Felix doesn’t talk about his life before this.  You just know that it was somehow worse.   Worse than being a watchdog.  Worse than giving up years of his life to protect someone else.   Worse than the times your father wanted to discipline you but learned that if he hit you directly you would just patch yourself up and move on, but if he hit Felix then you would break down and offer anything to make him stop.  

You can see a couple faded scars from those times, faint lines that cross his back, remnants of old belt lashings.  You touch one now, tracing your finger lightly from one end to the other.  You watch a shiver roll down his spine.   He doesn’t turn around. 

Giving up, you roll away, back to your distant side of the bed.  You close your eyes and will yourself to sleep, but it just makes you well up with tears.  You sniffle, rubbing your nose messily on the back of your arm.    

Fabric rustles.  You suck in a breath when Felix slides up behind you, pulling you into the middle of the bed where he holds you snugly in his arms.   You immediately roll to face him, throwing a leg over his hip and burying your face in his neck. 

“Sweetheart,” he says, nothing else. 

“I hate you,” you say, then press a kiss just under his jaw.

“I know.”  He cups the back of your head as your kisses move down his neck.  “I know.” 

You make it to the middle of his chest before he turns you onto your back and gets up over you.  He kisses you properly, thumbs wiping your tears as his mouth makes you forget about the reason you cried at all.  All that matters is kissing him back, wrapping your legs around his hips and pulling him close as possible.  His sounds of pleasure are so deep and rough and rumbling. 

“Fuck me, please, please,” you say, pushing your fingers into his hair. 

He groans, pressing his forehead to yours. 

“You know we can’t do that,” he says. 

“We’ve done it before,” you say, purposefully canting your hips to rub against him, reminding him you are still so hot and wet from his finger-fucking, that only stupid underwear keeps you apart.  It has the desired effect, his brow furrowing as he holds himself still above you.  You peck his lips and string your arms around his neck.  “You know I’m on birth control now for that reason,” you say, a little sweetly, smiling up at him.  “Remember?”

He drops his face in the crook of your neck and makes an even crazier sound, shaking his head. 

“That was very, very irresponsible of us, you know,” he says. 

“Mhm,” you say, sliding your hand down his body to his waistband.  “It really was.  But it felt good, didn’t it?   Dangerous.  Coming inside me like that.”

Felix is right; that incident was very irresponsible.  You had already started your little cat-and-mouse game and ran out of condoms one night.  Because the two of you only have sex with each other, when that happened, you usually just fooled around until he pulled out. 

That time was… a lot.   You were pressed so tightly together and you were being painfully quiet because you weren’t home alone.  It was such a stupid time to mess around, but common sense leaves you when Felix is involved. 

That feeling is mutual.  Felix knew better too.   If he got you pregnant… the fallout with your father would be catastrophic for both of you.   Still, for that moment he was inside you, with your fingers laced together and pressed by your head, with your legs tight around him and his face in your neck, nothing else seemed to exist.  You were two normal people who were allowed to do whatever they wanted with whoever they wanted.  It was a breathless, momentary fantasy, holding him tight and telling him to come, shuddering at the noise he made as he did just that.   You didn’t even panic after the fact.   You let the moment linger for as long as it could, still pretending you were normal, still pretending it was fine. 

You started birth control soon after, telling your father it was to regulate your period.   He waved it off, not wanting to hear more.  

Your father has truly never suspected a thing.  He doesn’t see the people around him as people, just objects, so it makes sense that he sees nothing in Felix but a soldier.  He doesn’t know anything about Felix.  Doesn’t know the pattern of his freckles or how his eyes crinkle up when he smiles.  Doesn’t know he has a sweet tooth and will dump a thing of sugar in nearly everything.  Doesn’t know what he finds funny, doesn’t know what makes him sad, doesn’t know anything at all.  

You drag your calf up the back of his leg.

“Felix,” you say. 

He gives you no chance to say more.  One second you are in limbo, the very next he has shoved down both his boxers and your underwear and is already pressing into you.  Only nonsense leaves your lips after that, your eyes closing as he works your body like a familiar and well-loved instrument.   He knows it as well as you do.  As you do his.  It’s easy to work him up, to get him as close as you. 

“I know what you’re doing,” he says, changing position so he’s kneeling.  He puts one of your legs up against his chest, levelling you with an amused smile.  “You’re trying to get me to finish first,” he says. 

“What? Noooo…”  Your giggle turns into a gasp.  You can be as loud as you want but you bite your fist anyway, hiccupping with a choked back sob of pleasure when he finds an angle that makes you see stars. 

“Yes, you are,” he says.  “But you won’t win.” 

“I will,” you say.

“Uh-uh,” he says. “Sure.” 

He makes you come twice before he does.  He even starts pushing you towards a third but you are so oversensitive that it makes tears fall.  He cups your chin and looks at you, cursing. 

“You’re so mean,” you say, smiling through your tears.  “Getting off to me crying.”

“I’m—not—I just—”

“Liar,” you tease.  “You totally are.”

He just giggles.  Then he flips a switch and goes from cute to something else, grabbing your throat and fucking into your oversensitive pussy so good and hard that you cry out.

“Shhh, sweetheart, it’s okay,” he says.  “Got you.  Got you.  I—”

You kiss him and he comes, sinking into you with dick and tongue and breath, filling you and surrounding you.  

You hold him close, arms tight around him, his sweaty forehead pressed to yours.   When he tries to lift away, you pull him back, making him laugh softly. 

“Stay,” you say, and repay his torture by squeezing him inside you, knowing it will make him twitch and jerk with oversensitivity of his own. 

“You never make it easy for me, do you,” he says with no animosity. 

You shake your head and smile like you’re proud of that.  He laughs then kisses you.   The kiss is good and thorough and sweet, completely loving, affectionate.  It gets your heart racing despite everything you just did.  You rest your hands on his chest and gently push him back. 

“I still hate you,” you say, because you have to say it, because the opposite would be too dangerous to ever say.  You can’t even let that word enter your thoughts, certainly never let it leave your lips.  If you held that word in your mouth for even a second, you would become addicted to it.   So you glare at him with all passion you can muster and say,   “I hate you so much.”   You sniffle when he wipes your tears away.   You turn your face.  “I hate you more than I’ve ever hated anyone.” 

“I know,” he says in a strained voice.  He presses his forehead to your temple and exhales.   “I know, sweetheart.” 

[simpxxstan]

favourite (teaser)

pairing: boss!wonwoo x model!mingyu x f.reader

genre: smut, slowburn, poly!relationship

summary: after being happily single for years, when you develop a crush, you don't know what to do. you think your closest friend (with benefits) can take your mind off things. but when you ask for his help, you certainly didn't imagine this kind of help from him.

final word count: tbd

teaser word count: 600 words

rating: NSFW 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT PLEASE!!!

teaser warning: reference to sex with sub male, mention of jealousy, slight sugar daddy wonwoo, asymmetric power dynamics, the entire teaser is suggestive in line with the story itself. wonwoo and mingyu are both depicted to be bisexual in this fanfiction, it does not imply anything with regards to real life as this is just a work of fiction.

a/n: i swear my hormones made me write this. but i can't say i regret it- boss wonwoo will be the death of me. final fic will be nearly 10k words, if not slightly more. pls let me know your thoughts, i'll be waiting <3

release date: out now!

Because you have some time until your company’s jet is scheduled to depart, so you’re roaming through the duty-free stores. You’re walking out of a chocolate store when you notice Mingyu’s life-sized poster, modelling for Calvin Klein.

You smile and grab your phone to take a quick photo, before admiring the advertisement. It must be a recent shoot, because his hair is cropped short like you noticed when he last came over. His muscles look well defined in the photograph, where he’s posing shirtless with a single black tie tied loosely to his neck, and black jeans hung low on his lips. There’s a wildly sensual look in his eyes, as if begging to be taken as you pleased, and it makes you smirk. Now you have something more to tease him for, when you meet him the next time. 

“Pretty, isn’t he?” You haven’t realised when Wonwoo’s sidled up to your side, and you notice a Bulgari bag in his hands. So that’s where he’s been shopping while you were busy browsing through chocolates. Wonwoo’s eyes are fixed on the poster in front of you, an appreciative glint in his eyes. 

“Pretty indeed. For as long as I remember him.” 

Wonwoo turns to look at you, his eyebrow raised. “Are you a fan? Or a friend?” “The latter. Mingyu and I have been friends since high school.” “How interesting.” Eager to impress him, you elaborate, “I was the one who pushed him to get into modelling. Couldn’t have let looks like that slip, could I?” Wonwoo chuckles. “Indeed not. I’m sure many must thank you, including myself.” 

Wonwoo takes out a small box from the bag he’s carrying. Opening the box, you see there’s a bracelet inside. Set with at least sixty 24 carat diamonds. It makes your mouth water and your eyes shine, and you cannot help but envy his boyfriend, if he’s the one on the receiving end of such gifts. “What do you think?

You wonder if it’s too personal a question, but you’re also sure a lot of lines between professional and personal have gotten blurred over this trip. So you bravely ask him, “Is that for your boyfriend?” 

Wonwoo doesn’t show any sign of displeasure, if he feels it. His eyes still focused on Mingyu’s poster on the glowing display in front of you, he says, “Hmm. Do you think it’ll suit him?” 

Your throat goes dry. If he’s bought it for his boyfriend, why are his eyes fixed on Mingyu? But you don’t think about it. Mingyu’s looks are, after all, captivating. 

“I’m sure it will. He’s very lucky to be receiving such a pretty gift. He must be really precious to you.” You laugh lightly, trying to hide the bile of jealousy rising in your throat. 

Wonwoo puts away the gift. “He is, of course.” His eyes now shift to yours. “Any favourite of mine is bound to be the most precious to me. And worthy of the prettiest of gifts, whatever they want.” 

You fight the blush creeping into your cheeks, trying to stop your heart from racing on. This is ridiculous. Why on earth are you getting into your feels when he’s clearly thinking and talking about his lover? God, Y/N, get a grip on yourself. He’s not yours, and by the look of love and yearning on his face, he never will be. 

It’s his voice that breaks you out of your trance. “Miss Y/L/N? The jet’s arrived. Don’t wanna miss it, do we?” You can’t help but nod dumbly and walk behind him to keep pace.

[ghouldump]

Been thinking of armand x reader x louis and their whole dynamic. I could see her being one of the actors, i want them WHIPPED for her. Like sis has these two powerful beings wrapped around her finger, scary dog privileges fr

Trust | Armand x Reader x Louis

ෆ born for stardom, but destined for chaos, the last thing you ever expected was for two old vampires to become your companions.

it is finally here, the amount of requests for these two has been ASTRONOMICAL 😅 I promise there will be more in the future!!!!

“Open your hands,” your father barked. Holding out your palms, you winced, tears running down your face as the belt came in contact with your hands.

Drawing your hands back, he stopped you and roughly grabbed your wrist. Yanking your arm forward, he brought another lash to your stinging palms.

“You've been missing church to be at that bar, seducing those men like a harlot,” he screamed at you. You could see your mother looking away, too afraid to intervene. She never helped you, her marriage was first, and you were always an afterthought.

“I’m sorry, I just wanted to sing, I was only singing-

“Are you alright, my love?” Snapping out of your thoughts, Armand lifted your head to look at him. You sat comfortably on the floor, surrounded by the handsome models, but looked up at your maker, while he stared down, his soft curls in his face.

“I’m okay,” you smiled, watching as he went to stand next to Louis, who sent a wink your way. Knowing him, he heard or saw something in your thoughts and told Armand.

“Shall we continue?” The photographer asked nervously, relieved when Louis nodded at him.

"Did she have to be practically naked?" Armand asked.

"You look amazing, darling, fabulous," the photographer praised, snapping the pictures.

"She wouldn't have wanted it any other way," Louis said, as they focused on the photoshoot.

In the bedazzled lingerie, you posed provocatively, the male models surrounding you. Your fangs out, lightly pressed against the model's neck for the photo.

The model tried blinking away the headache, unable to see Armand glaring, using his powers against the young man.

You were above all these mortals, yet you allowed them to touch you so freely. You and Louis were more willing to work alongside the humans, allowing them a safe space, to feel comfortable, he would never.

"And that is it, I think we're done," the photographer announced, as your team clapped.

"Great, thank you all for coming," you said, pecking the cheek of the model your teeth were pressed against.

You could feel the intense gaze from your companions, territorial and envious. Standing, you walked in front of them, the staff eyed you in fascination seeing you move so fast. Since Lestat had revealed himself, Louis had been quite stressed. He had no intentions of getting back with the blonde hotshot, but he still cared deeply for him.

Mortals didn’t believe the authenticity of his claim to be a vampire, while the elders were furious. Out of love for your companion, and the thrill of living life on the edge, you revealed your own identity, taking some of the spotlight off of him and shifting it to yourself.

If you were going to break the ancient laws, why not go all the way out and serve cunt while doing so. Becoming the next biggest Pop sensation, you were sure to cross all boundaries, and the best part of all of this, you were elusive, untouchable by almost all vampires. Being with Armand and Louis, others were scared to even look your way, despite their desire to see your demise. The next Madonna? Britney? Gaga? Rihanna? no, you were better. You were selling sex, covered in a catchy beat and raunchy choreography, and the world was eating it up.

"You two looked a little close," Armand pointed out, while Louis stared at the model, as he slipped back into a shirt.

“Stop it,” you grabbed their jaws, forcing them to look at you.

"Don't I look tasty?" you changed the subject.

"Yes, although, I wished you would have worn something less revealing for our...guests"

"I thought you liked it when I showed off, Louis, do you like my outfit?" you nuzzled your nose against his own, as his hand went around your waist. Taking in your scent, he nodded.

"I never said I did not like it, or that you did not look ravishing," Armand recanted, wrapping an arm around you.

“I think you could show better than you could tell me,” you smirked. Closing your eyes, you hummed, feeling the pairs of lips against your skin.

“Beautiful,” Louis whispered, as he continued kissing along your neck.

“The most perfect,” Armand added, moving from your neck to your lips.

“I want both of you,” you said, in between the sweet kisses, hearing Louis’s low groan.

Armand was about to command the team to leave the penthouse. They had private business to tend to with you, when your assistant, Joy, came walking in, clearing her throat.

"My apologies, your reporter, he has arrived," she said, as the two men slowly pulled away. Your silk robe, flew across the room, into Armand's hands, before he began to place it onto your body.

“Aw, and I wanted to show him my outfit,” you laughed as Armand looked at you, the idea infuriated his thoughts.

“You've shown off enough today,” Louis said, going to tie the robe closed.

"Let him in," you said, giving them both a kiss of reassurance.

However, you ended up humming in approval, as the tall man entered, he seemed too handsome to be a reporter, a Clark Kent archetype.

"I'm Robert, it is a pleasure to meet you, Vogue is extremely eager to work with you," he held out his hand for you.

"The pleasure is all mine," you winked, snickering as he backed up, glancing at the two figures behind you. You could feel Armand’s icy glare, mixed with Louis’s judgmental frown.

"Don't mind them, they won't bite, will you?" You asked them. They remained motionless for a moment, contemplating simply shredding the guy into pieces, his thoughts loud, staring at your legs, your cleavage, the rouge lipstick.

"No," Louis said, he was usually first to give in. He was loyal as they came, too focused on pleasing you to go against you.

"Armand?" You turned to your maker. He stared emotionless at Robert, who uncomfortably shifted under his gaze.

"Love, tell Robert you won't hurt him," you said, as you held his jaw, his eyes shifting to you, softening.

"I won't," he agreed.

"See, they are very well behaved, they just don't like to share, we can go into the living room, it was recently redecorated," you exclaimed, intertwining Robert's arm with your own, while they followed behind, trying to swallow their burning jealousy.

Sitting across from you, the three of you stared at Robert, watching as he pulled out his notes and laptop before he cleared his throat.

"We have been thrilled about your willingness to work with Vogue, you are very inspiring to many artists, the youth, and I'm sure other vampires. I have questions from our team and you can answer them freely, and whatever is too uncomfortable, you just let me know"

"Okay," you nodded, crossing your legs, smirking as he looked, gulping as the robe rose slightly.

'Let's start with your persona, you claim to be a vampire, is this in any way connected to the rockstar, Lestat-

"No, he is not the only vampire to exist, my maker, is much older than him. I will admit, the ancient laws, so sacred and honored, are boresome, I think the both of us would agree," you said, pausing, as he typed your words.

"Ancient laws, could you elaborate for us... mortals?"

"Think of it like our commandments, no writing about vampirism, killing other vampires, don't turn children, no revealing your nature, and allowing the person to live. I could go further, but it's all incredibly uninteresting to me," you shrugged.

"How many others like you are there?"

"I'm not sure, I don't keep count of every vampire there is," you said, as you and Louis shared a chuckle.

"Will you only ask her questions about vampirism?" Armand asked, a frown already forming.

"It's fine," you told him, as he interlocked his fingers with your own.

"Um, your career, were you always into music, or was it a passion that came over time with your gift?"

"Oh, I've always had quite the stage presence, throughout my years in high school, I think I managed to play lead in every play. Also, there was a lounge near the apartments I lived in before I turned, I performed there regularly"

"Were you pursuing a music career?”

"Not really, I knew it was something I was good at, I mean, I was great at acting and singing, but I needed more than hope and a childish dream to pick up my entire life, to try to achieve either"

"Please forgive my questioning, but since you've revealed yourself, many are fearful of your potential eating habits, any comment?"

"I cannot speak for all vampires, but my maker, companion, and I all receive blood in the most cruelty-free way. Yes, we are technically able to do these things but there are better things to do than picking up random people to kill"

"Your maker? The person, or I should say vampire, who turned you?"

"Yes"

"Who is your maker?"

"Armand," you said, watching the emotion leave his face, as he briefly glanced at him.

"If possible, could you tell us a backstory maybe your previous months, leading to your transformation”

"No," Armand interrupted, before you whispered into his ear, Robert was interested in knowing what you could have said leaving the vampire much more relaxed than before.

“I was born in a small town, less than 5,000 people. Everyone knew everyone, and they all seemed to follow the same customs, until me. My mother told me when I was a child, she knew then, I would be a star, but my daddy thought differently…”

“I swear, if she is in here, I’m beating her into next week,” your father, Joseph said, turning off the car.

“Joseph,” Sandra, your mother screamed.

“This isn't a grocery store, first she's missing church, now she is a liar,” he said, getting out of the car, his wife scrambling to follow him.

It was your mother who convinced him to let you have a job in the first place. You had been working at the next town over, for about two years now. You were able to purchase your own car and save money. The problem came in because you broke your end of the deal. You got the cashier job, but you still had to continue with church and choir with your family.

However, your parents didn't even know you didn't work at a grocery store. You managed to find a nice bar, willing to pay tips and you got to perform. Dressing up, you were able to sing and dance whatever your heart desired, as long as the lustful men got to watch you.

Easter Sunday came and went and you were nowhere to be found, leading them to begin investigating the town over, where they heard about the bar.

You stand straight as Tiffany’s

Diamonds, Diamonds

I don't mean rhinestones

But diamonds are a girl's best friend

As you finished singing, you nearly fainted as you made eye contact with your parents. Your mother had her mouth covered, while your father held a look of disgust.

The music, the form-fitting dress, the hair, the make-up, you were practically a lady of the night, dancing for these men. Nervously bowing, you accepted the tips, before you approached your parents.

“Where are your keys?” you father started.

“In my bag,” you winced at his every move, afraid of getting one of his brutal punishments.

He was strict, and it wasn't uncommon for him to get physical if he even felt like you were trying to act unladylike.

“Get your things now, you can ride back with your mother,” he told you, hardly sparing you a glance.

Quickly changing, you explained your situation to your manager, and before you knew it, you were awkwardly sitting in the passenger seat, as your mother drove you home.

“He’s going to kill me, mommy,” you whispered.

“Why would you do this, Y/n, dressed like that, tempting those men,” she stressed.

“You always said I was meant to be a star-

“That doesn't mean dress like Marilyn Monroe, of all people, she has a terrible legacy, is that what you want? To be seen as a sex symbol by all of those men?” she asked. Yes. Yes, you did, your embarrassing daddy issues made you crave the attention of men. If using your body and looks made them fall to their knees, you didn't care.

“I’m sorry-

“You’ll have to tell that to your father,” she cut you off.

“I’m 20, how long am I supposed to let him spank me as if I am a child,” you raised your voice at her. She didn't say anything the rest of the drive, pulling into the driveway.

Your father stood, leaning against your car, and as soon as your mother parked, he took long strides towards the door, opening it, and yanking you onto the grass.

Trying to get up, your efforts were futile, as he grabbed your hair, dragging you into the house. Your mother kept her head down, unable to watch the sight.

“Daddy-

“I won't let you become so whore, you are a young girl and you need to act like it,” he said, taking off his belt. You sat on your knees, crying, rubbing your head from the soon-to-be headache, trying to mentally prepare yourself for what was coming.

“Open your hands,” your father barked. Holding out your palms, you winced, tears running down your face as the belt came in contact with your hands.

Drawing your hands back, he stopped you and roughly grabbed your wrist. Yanking your arm forward, he brought another lash to your stinging palms.

“You've been missing church to be at that bar, seducing those men like a harlot,” he screamed at you. You could see your mother looking away, too afraid to intervene. She never helped you, her marriage was first, and you were always an afterthought.

“I’m sorry, I just wanted to sing, I was only singing-

“You sing at church. Not some bar full of lustful drunkards, you’ll learn, no more working, no more car, after this, you can reflect on your choices,” he said, as he began swinging the belt freely.

By the time he finished, you lay stiffly on the carpet, the welts already forming. You were too tired from crying and squirming to move around, but you knew one thing, you needed to leave as fast as possible. You couldn't stay in this small town and keep dealing with the treatment.

Forcing yourself off of the floor, you limped to your bedroom. Packing only a handful of outfits in a backpack, grabbing your stash of saved money. Once you were sure your parents were settled in their room, you snuck and took your car keys from your father’s jacket.

Running outside, you quickly started your car to leave. You had to get as far away as possible, and you could find a new job wherever you went. You had enough money saved to get an apartment, but as of now you simply wanted to drive, cry, and hope to end up anywhere better than this shitty town.

“You are in luck, my dear, we just recently finished cleaning up a one-bed, one bath - the only problem is it is on the third floor, and the elevator only goes to the second,” the landlord, Gary said, smiling sheepishly.

“It doesn't matter to me, I need a place as soon as possible,” you told him.

“Then we can work something out, you seem like a sweet girl with a good head on your shoulders, I won't do a background check, just finish the application and we’ll go from there,” he said, standing as someone rang the bell in the lobby.

“Excuse me,” he said, leaving you, as you tried your hardest to hide your smile.

After hours upon hours of driving until you finally stopped in San Francisco, and the first apartments you checked, you were already finding a place to stay. Gary, the landlord, was the kindest old man, everything you wished your father was.

As he said, the process went by quickly, and before you knew it, both of you stood outside of the door, as he placed the keys into your hand.

“It’s only you and the neighbors across the hall, but you won’t have any issues, they stay to themselves,” he explained.

“Thank you so much,” you told him.

“Oh please, dear, I hope you enjoy your stay,” he told you, turning to leave you.

Your living situation was now secured, you just needed a job. The sun was beginning to set, but perhaps there were a few places you could check- your hand instinctively went to your stomach as it growled. Maybe you could eat something first, preferably something budget-friendly.

Driving around, the lounge caught your eye, Midnight Oasis, and they sold baked goods! Parking your car, you made your way inside. The room was dimly lit, most of everyone's attention on the stage. A man sat, playing a saxophone.

Going to the counter, you ordered a slice of the velvet cake, along with a cold-cut sandwich. Sitting at the bar, you watched in amazement, as the man played the instrument. Back home, you weren't allowed to listen to music on the radio, it was the devil's music, your father had even taken it out of your car.

All you had was old vinyl, bought at the record store, and all of the albums you owned were from the sixties or older. When you worked, you grew familiar with a few artists you liked, Queen, Donna Summer, and Abba, just to name a few, but you hadn't been listening long enough for any of it to stick.

As the cute plates were placed in front of you, you slowly ate, watching the performance. The man playing the music was quite handsome and had strong features, dark eyes, and a cute haircut. He kind of stood out, he didn't look like the type to be in lounges.

“Is he an upcoming artist? He's really good,” you asked the nearby bartender.

“Christopher? No, he's just a regular, the tips are nice so he keeps coming back,” she laughed.

“He doesn't work here?” you asked surprised.

“No, you sign up and the stage is yours for nearly an hour, you can do music, stand up, dance, whatever,” she said, as she cleaned the glasses.

“How do I sign up?” you asked, interested in the idea of easy tips.

“Sign that paper, I don't think anyone else has signed up, so you may be next,” she pointed out by the cash register.

“Thank you,” you said, going to the cashier to pay for your meal, along with signing the paper.

“Oh, you actually signed up,” the bartender said, surprised as you came back.

“Yeah, could I have two shots of…do you have whiskey?” you asked, taking out a few bills to pay.

Quickly making the shots, she slid them to you, watching as you reached for them.

“To new beginnings,” you mumbled to yourself. Throwing each shot to the back of your throat, you grimaced at the burning sensation, shaking your head sourly.

“That was Christopher with his self-written piece, next up, Y/n,” the cashier announced with a microphone. Exhaling, you took off your jacket and purse, revealing the shirt you'd cut into a crop top with daisy dukes.

“Could I leave this here?” you asked her, sitting it on the counter as she nodded.

Walking through the crowd, you could already feel the alcohol warming your body. You smiled at the variety of men, as their eyes widened, watching you walk past. Making eye contact with Christopher, you looked him up and down, moving to the microphone, while he walked off of stage.

“Hey,” you called out to him, biting your lip as he looked back at you.

“Do you play piano?”

“Yeah,” he nodded.

“Could you…” you motioned.

“Sure,” he grinned, coming back on stage.

“Do you know Natural Woman?”

“Uh, yes,” he nodded.

“Okay, follow along,” you chuckled, grabbing the microphone from its stand.

Lookin’ out on the morning rain, I used to feel so uninspired-

As you started singing, he began to press the keys, and the crowd of men began whistling, wooing you. Continuing to sing, you walked from the stage, passing a few of the men, swaying your hips. The performance seemed to catch the attention of nearly all of the employees, hearing how rowdy the audience was getting.

Sitting on one of the many tables, you looked down at both of the brown-skinned men. They stared at you as if you were prey, and in a twisted way, it only made you more confident in your appearance.

Hoping up, you went back to the stage was the song was coming to an end, dramatically bowing as everyone cheered for you. The staff, the audience, security, even people that had been walking by had came in to hear your voice.

“You were amazing,” Christopher started, as he stood up.

“I know,” you laughed.

“Are you new in the area? Maybe we could get lunch sometime,” he said, and just like that, he became unattractive to you.

“I don't know, it seems a little bit too soon for any of that,” you apologized.

“No, it’s okay, at least take my number, if you're ever bored, call me,” he said, quickly writing his number on a napkin and giving it to you. Grabbing his saxophone case, he waved, before he left.

Walking from the stage, you accepted the tips, from everyone. Thanking each of them with a wink, when a man stopped you.

“That was a beautiful performance”

“Thank you”

“My name is Donald Willis, I’m the owner of this establishment, and I would love to offer a position as a full-time performer. You would get paid weekly, along with your tips, please accept, we have been this crowded for years,” he said.

“Okay,” you nodded, excitedly.

“Come back tomorrow night and we’ll talk more, Miss Y/n,” he said, eagerly, walking away.

Going to the bar, you sat down, putting your things back on.

“You certainly know how to put on a show, and Donny offered you a job,” the bartender came back.

“Thank you, I’m so excited,” you beamed. Everything seemed to be falling into place for you, leaving home was one of the best things that could've happened.

“Brava, it has been a long time since I’ve seen such an eccentric performance,” you heard, making you turn around. Of the brown men, one was clearly black, but the other was possibly desi. They were handsome, with a hungry, and lustful glint in their eyes.

“You have a beautiful voice,” the second man spoke.

“Thank you,” you smiled.

“For you,” the brown man spoke, holding the folded bills, it had to be a few hundred, sticking the money in your waistband, you got goosebumps as his cool fingers brushed against your skin.

“I’m Y/n,” you spoke, they shared a smirk, before looking back to you.

“Louis”

“Armand,” you brown man spoke. His eyes felt like they were piercing through you and it only drove you crazier.

What was wrong with you? You loved men like your father, stoic, stern, a little evil, but what you loved even more was doing to them what you couldn't do to your father; break them. To have these scary men falling at your feet, there was no greater ecstasy. You certainly weren't a virgin, perhaps that was one of the many reasons your father was cold to you, but the distance between you both slowly was replaced by your nymphomaniac tendencies.

“Why’d you turn down the kid with saxophone, he seemed nice,” Louis asked.

“He’s not what I’m looking for, especially in a man,” you crossed your leg over the other.

“Really now?”

“Hm, I prefer older, mysterious men,” you batted your eyelashes.

“Is that what you think? You should get home, too dangerous for a young girl to be out alone,” Armand said, turning to walk away.

“I am not a little girl,” you told him, taking your purse, storming past him. You were too offended by his words to notice his smirk. They could hear your thoughts loud and clear, he could see the sass in your walk, this was the most intrigued Armand and Louis had been in a while.

“Hey, he didn't mean that sometimes he just speaks before he thinks,” Louis called out, trying to keep up with you, your humanly fast pace.

“It's okay, Louis, I appreciate it, not everyone can have the looks and a way with words, your loverboy lacks the latter,” you said, as Armand slowly approached the two of you.

“My apologies, I am very aware that you are indeed fully woman, I was only letting you know, that there are scary men who would give anything to hunt a woman with a face as cute as yours,” he told you, grinning as you mentally questioned why he sounded like he was from another time.

“Let them, I can handle myself,” you told him, looking away as his eyes explored your figure. He didn't even hide it, while Louis was more discreet.

“Hardly, it would only take one swift move, to have you against the car, if you knew any better, you would take my advice,” he said, making your laugh.

“Is that what this is? Your advice? You haven't been able to keep your eyes off of my cleavage since you introduced yourself, if you wanted me, all you had to do was say it,” you smirked, looking at him. He stared at you, before sharing a look with Louis.

You are the dancing queen

Young and sweet, only seventeen

Dancing queen

Feel the beat from the tambourine, oh yeah

Singing loudly, you vacuumed the large rug in your living room. It had been only a few weeks since living in San Francisco, and things were really looking up for you. You'd been hired at the Midnight Oasis and quickly became popular, the money growing each night.

Louis and Armand, you didn't see any more, which bummed you out. After that night, what happened between the three of you, in your car, you hoped they would at least try to keep contact. However, you couldn't stay stuck on the same two people, which is why you had already been on a lunch date with Christopher.

He was there nearly every other day, and after a few conversations, you agreed to meet him for lunch. He was sweet, the stereotypical good guy behavior. He wasn’t your type, but perhaps it was what you needed, instead of the same men you kept dealing with.

The sound of knocking interrupted your thoughts, lowering the radio, you rushed to the door and swung it open. Raising your eyebrow, you were surprised to see Louis.

“Hi,” you said.

“Hey, could you keep the music down a bit,” he smiled.

“You’re my neighbor, and I’m just finding this out,” you said, your eyes widening as Armand opened the door across the hall.

“We’ve known about you for some time now, just been busy,” Louis said.

“I was wondering when I’d see you both again, I figured you didn't want to see me anymore, especially since you both thought I was too much of a little girl to leave your number, but woman enough to fuck,” you raised your voice for Armand to hear. He had been staring, unblinking with those piercing eyes, never once speaking to you.

“You practically begged for it, but you are a young girl and you need to act like it,” Armand said, your eyes immediately watered, his choice of words reminding you of your father.

“Shut the fuck up,” Louis looked back at him with a frown.

“Don't listen to him-

“I don't know what your problem is, Armand, but I have some news for you. I certainly wasn't begging you, shrimp. I’ll keep the music down, Louis,” you said, slamming the door shut.

Leaning against the wall, you wrapped your arms around yourself, trying to calm yourself down. You had lied, trying to hurt Armand’s pride, he and Louis had been the best you'd ever had. You didn't understand what was his problem though. His eyes showed that he yearned for your attention, but the first time he saw you in nearly a month, he said something so mean.

The next morning, opening your door, you were shocked to see the bouquet. A small card, simply stating, “sorry”, not even a name. Balling up the note, you angrily took the flowers and tossed them in the trash.

As much as you were attracted to these men, it was best to do them the same thing they had done to you, leave them in the past. There were too many options for you to be stuck on two men you didn't know.

You began avoiding them like the plague, going to work and coming home. Occasionally, you made plans, but you mostly stayed in your apartment or at your job. Christopher because a recurring person in your life, and you didn't mind, if it meant the two would leave your thoughts.

I love to love you, baby

I love to love you, baby

I love to love you, baby

Finishing the Donna Summer song, you waved, facing Christopher as he pulled you into a hug. Rocking left to right, his hand rested on your lower back. Pulling away, you accepted the tips, before the both of you were at the bar.

“You did amazing, you always do, I don't think I've ever met anyone like you,” he confessed, his eyes shifting from your eyes to your lips. Laughing, you leaned close, pecking his lips.

“Would you like to come to my place?” you asked, tilting your head. Eagerly nodding, he stood as you held his hand, leading him to his car.

Back in the apartments, Louis leaned against the wall, and Armand sat on the sofa, trying to stop himself from destroying the area out of jealousy. They could hear you, loud and clearly. Your moans, giggles, the sound of the bed, he couldn't stop his leg from shaking.

“You can't be jealous, after what you did,” Louis told him.

“What have I done?”

“You were all inside her brain and used those words against her”

“You were in her thoughts as well, and I was trying to create distance between us, it will either be death or she is turned, if we reveal our identity. Something about her is very special, and I don't know if she should have the dark gift,” he confessed, grimacing as you whispered the saxophone boy’s name.

“That would be up to her to make that decision, I like her and I know you do too, so there is no reason for you to act like that, when you could just try to get to know her, outside of invading her thoughts,” Louis told him. It sounded very easy, but Armand couldn't help that he ended up saying the wrong thing.

Standing up, he could hear the two of you getting dressed, and soon your door opened, and you walked the boy to the stairs. Just as you were coming back, Armand opened the door, staring at you.

“Can I help you?” you rolled your eyes.

“You were loud,” he lied.

“Okay? Turn on the radio to drown me out,” you said, gasping as he was in front of you within a span of a blink.

“You choose to live vivaciously through your daddy issues-

“Excuse me?”

“When you are worthy of more than this,” he said, his eyes briefly looking down at the robe. Staring into his eyes, you smashed your lips into his own. Naturally, he picked you up, his hands moving down your back to your bottom. You moaned lightly in the kiss when suddenly, you slapped him.

He could see the tears building up in your eyes as you ran into your apartment, slamming the door. Looking back, he shared a look with a very disappointed Louis.

“You live vivaciously through your daddy issues, why the hell would you say that?” he asked Armand, as he came back into their apartment.

“I was trying to be nice-

“By bringing up trauma? When the hell has that ever worked for anyone?” Louis stressed, going into their shared room. Armand seemed like a lost cause, any possibility that he and his companion had to see or experience you again, was dropping, quickly.

“Wait, so you had a threesome with your neighbors? They're not gay?” Christopher asked. He had become a regular at your apartment, oftentimes cuddling, talking, being intimate. In a way, he seemed like your boyfriend without the title.

“Not completely, obviously, because it happened, but Armand has been the biggest asshole ever since, it really has been too much,” you shook your head.

“Do you want me to tell him to back off?” Christopher asked.

“No, he has been keeping his distance, hold on, I need to give Gary my rent,” you gasped, remembering that he said he would be out of time for two weeks.

“You want me to come?” he said, watching as you slipped into the pajama pants and slippers, grabbing the check.

“No, it's fine, I will only be a few minutes,” you said, going to the stairs.

Making your down to the lobby, you rang the bell, hearing Gary call out, one second. Leaning against the counter, you patiently waited, jumping as your name was called.

“Y/n, how are you?” Louis asked as he and Armand entered the building.

“I’m okay, you?”

“Great,” he smiled at you.

“Y/n, I-I would like to apologize for my actions towards you, how I spoke to you is inexcusable, I spoke wrongfully one too many times without thinking,” Armand confessed. You didn't say anything, staring at him.

“Gary, I’d like to pay Y/n’s rent this month,” He said.

“No, I don't need you to do that,” you refused.

“I insist, think of it as payment for the emotional distress I’ve caused,” he said, counting out a few hundred dollars, and handing them to Gary, as soon as he came from his office.

“You can spend your money on something nice,” Louis told you, as Gary looked at you.

“That is very kind of you two,” Gary nodded in approval, taking the money, and going to his office.

“You didn't have to do that, you could have done anything else,” you told Armand, your heart fluttered as he smiled.

“I told you, think of it like my payment for the distress I’ve caused you, I knew matter to speak to a lady in such a manner, but I let my tongue run loosely in the presence of a beautiful woman like yourself,” he spoke. Your eyes widened, surprised by his words. He expressed as if he was a completely different person.

“Well…apology accepted,” you said, making your way to the stairs, both of them following close behind.

“Would you two like to come over for lunch-

“We have plans tomorrow,” Louis spoke, feeling guilty as you mouthed, ‘oh’.

“But you can come over tomorrow night, do you play board games?” he continued, blushing as you smiled, nodding.

“Then we will see you tomorrow, after sunset,” Armand told you, as you approached your apartment.

“See you then,” you nodded. As you entered your apartment, Christopher looked at you confused at your smile.

“You seem happier than before you left, something happened?” he asked.

“Nope,” you said, your smile faltering as he stood up.

“I have to leave, I have class early tomorrow, I’ll see you later?” he asked, putting his shoes on.

“Yeah, sure, I’ll just see you later,” you nodded, letting him peck your cheek, before making his way out of the apartment.

Christopher made his way out of the complex, walking towards his car, when he stopped, seeing the familiar man, leaning against his car.

“You, again,” he grumbled.

“I need your help, you’ve gotten to know Y/n, and how does one grand sound?” he asked, Christopher pondered on it.

The man had approached him, some time ago, offering him money, to have access to you. The longer he declined the deal, the higher the offers became. Christopher had been trying to hold out because he did like you, but he was a struggling college student. From his understanding, in your hometown, you didn't have any plans concerning college, and since you had been in San Francisco you had taken all of the money he could have earned.

“What is your name again, sir?”

“Joseph”

“Alright, Joseph, I will let you know when we can begin planning,” he said, shaking the older man’s hand before getting into his car.

Meanwhile, Armand and Louis began getting ready for bed, undressing.

“You did good, telling her how you feel,” Louis told Armand.

“You don't think I overstepped?” Armand asked.

“She agreed to come over, so it worked,” Louis told him, as he nodded in agreement.

“Right”

“We just have to wait for the right time to tell her,” Louis said, as they climbed into their coffins.

After spending countless hours observing, they had determined that you were indispensable, the crucial element to their companionship. The apple of their eyes, from the way you walked down to your sassy mannerism, they would do anything, be anything, if it meant they could have you.

“Make your move, Y/n,” Louis taunted. It had been well over two weeks and you were beginning to form a friendship with the two males. Regularly hanging at their apartment whenever you were off or spending time with them after your performances.

“Armand, help me,” you whined, holding the cards close. You were losing terribly in the card game and with you asking for help, he immediately felt compelled, reaching forward, grabbing the necessary card.

“Why did you actually help?” Louis asked, as you laughed.

“Don't be a sore loser, Louis,” you pointed, before glancing at the clock.

“Oh god, it is getting late, I need to get dressed for work,” you said, standing up.

“You picked up tonight?”

“Donny asked me last minute if I could do it, you two should come, we can get a few drinks afterward,” you said, turning around. You caught a glimpse into their shared bedroom. You didn't know if your eyes were playing tricks on you, but it looked like a coffin inside.

“Sure, did you want to ride with us?” Louis asked.

“Will your boyfriend be there?” Armand asked, trying to hide his jealousy. Smiling, you stepped closer to him.

“I don't have a boyfriend, and no, I would rather my outfit be a surprise,” you smiled, backing out of the apartment, as Armand walked forward.

“Then we will be there waiting for you,” he said, taking your hand into his own, and placing a kiss on your knuckles.

Going to your apartment, you immediately began fixing your hair and makeup. Thinking about Armand and Louis, you couldn't help but smile, they were so interesting. A few of your colleagues warned you, claiming the men seemed strange and could potentially be dangerous.

You didn't believe that though, hanging around them nearly every day, despite how intimidating they were to everyone else, they were nothing but gentlemen to you.

Just as you slipped on your fitted dress, you heard a soft knocking on the door. Smiling, you were going to peek out and tell Armand or Louis, they had to wait. However, your smile dropped upon seeing Christopher. You hadn't seen him at all, for the last two weeks, he wasn't answering the phone, nor was he ever showing up to the lounge anymore.

“Y/n, may I come in?” he asked, unable to meet your eyes.

“Fine, you have some nerve, showing up after all this time, I was worried about you,” you said, letting him in, going to a nearby mirror to fix your lipstick, slipping your earrings into your ears.

“I’m sorry, Y/n,” he said, looking as if he would burst into tears.

“It's alright, Chris, no need to look so emotional,” you laughed, going to grab your car keys and heels.

“Forgive me,” he whispered, making you look back at him in confusion, when a cloth went to your mouth, roughly pressing against your face, until you fell unconscious.

At Midnight Oasis, just as Louis was parking the car, they felt weird feeling. You were in trouble, starting the car, then quickly went back to the apartment. Your door was shut, but by making the door swing open, they could see that you struggled only a little, knocking a few things. Picking up the cloth, it was obvious someone drugged you. Armand frowned, the cloth burning into flames before he stormed out of the apartment.

Waking up, you groaned, your head throbbing. Blinking repeatedly, your heart was pounding as you recognized your surroundings. You were home. Trying to get up, you realized your hands and ankles had handcuffs on them. When suddenly, your father walked into the room, Christopher behind him, with his head down.

You didn't know when you got here, or how long you had even been here, but you had to get out of here, as soon as possible.

“Dad…”

“You have no idea what you’ve put your mother and me through to get you back home, it was thanks to this young man, I was able to get you back,” he grinned, patting his back.

“Chris?”

“I needed the money,” he told you, looking away.

“And you, young lady, you’ve shown why you don't need to be away from home,” he said, as Christopher hesitantly approached.

“Your neighbors, they- they are some kind of monster, it may be best that you stay here,” he tried to make you feel better, as he showed you the pictures. Louis and Armand, both biting into people, seemingly killing them, fire, lots of it, as they burn the bodies. None of it was logical, you had no logical explanation for it, but all you knew was the two had treated you with chivalry and you weren't going to trust him when he had kidnapped you for your father.

“You’re wrong, get away from me, I hate you, I hat-” You dropped your head when your father slapped you in the face.

“Thank you for your help, Christopher, take your money and get out of my house,” he said, as he began taking off his belt.

“Mom, mommy,” you screamed, tears already piling up in your eyes, out of fear. Five months had come and gone, you began to live a life, free of this, but in his presence, you were filled with fear.

She came from out of their room, tears in her eyes, and she shook her head.

“Joseph, don't do this, this isn't the way, please,” she cried. You both knew this spanking would be worse than any of them.

“Shut up, go in the room,” he screamed at her, making her lower her head at his tone.

Swinging the first lash, you gasped, feeling as if your breath had been taken away. Falling over, your face landed on the carpet, as you took a deep breath, although he didn't let you recover, as he began swinging the belt harshly. You would die, you were sure he would kill you from this.

You could hear your mother crying, begging him to stop, you had enough, even Christopher hadn't left, watching the scene unfold. He questioned within himself if he had made a mistake, in helping your father. You lay crying quietly, flinching after each hit when the door broke open.

Armand and Louis walked in, and immediately, Louis was in front of Christopher, snapping his neck. He had given you up for money, making him equally guilty. Your mother screamed as you widened your eyes. Armand stalked towards your father, fire appearing in his hand, as your father backed away from him. Crouching down, Armand ripped handcuffs off with ease, caressing your wrists, then ankles.

“What are you two doing here?” you sniffled.

“Here to get the woman we love,” he said, holding your face.

“What are y-

“We will explain, everything, but trust me when I say, you will never be treated like this again, you will only know love, I promise you. Louis and I will cherish you, seeing you for all that you are, if you allow us to be your companions. Would you grant us the greatest gift, to be yours?” he asked, as Louis approached, crouching next to him.

“Yes,” you smiled, wiping your tear-stained face, as they both embraced you.

“You whore, you’ve defiled yourself, giving yourself to these demons, who have committed acts against nature,” your father spewed, as the two of them slowly looked towards him.

“That is something I have to live with, Dad,” you told him, slowly standing up.

“Do you think I am letting you leave this house after you have shown you love what is evil, it would have been better if you had never been born,” he said, pulling out a pistol from his waistband.

“Joseph, no-oh god,” your mother screamed, the most terrifying scream, as the gun went off. Holding your stomach, you looked down at the blood on your hand, before your eyes went to Armand, then Louis.

Louis caught you, as you began to fall, while Armand stood, as darkness covered his eyes. You could see the fire sparking from his hand, your vision going in and out, as he gruesomely killed your father. Breaking his limbs, drinking his blood, setting him on fire.

Louis held you, trying to keep you awake, while he searched for the bullet. Finally, as he pulled it out, Armand rushed over lifting you into his arms. Louis looked back at your mother, who cried hysterically, about to stand up, you reached for him.

“Spare her,” you struggled to speak.

“I’m going to make the pain go away, okay,” Armand told you.

“Are you sure you want to do it? I can do it-

“No, I got it,” Armand said. All this time, in San Francisco, he had been trying to push you away with mean words, to avoid this happening to you — but now at this moment — he wanted only his blood flowing through your veins.

Struggling to nod at his words, your eyes began to roll back, as he began drinking your blood, and before death could take you, he pulled away. Your breathing was shallow, slow, and unsteady, as you reached to hold his face.

Using his nail to slice his skin, he brought his wrist to your mouth. “Drink,” he told you, watching as you slowly began to swallow, holding onto his arm. Finally, after you had enough, you let go, laying back in his arms, as your eyes went to Louis, reaching to hold his hand.

“We will teach you everything you need to know, in your new life, but things of your former life will have to be left behind,” Louis told you, motioning to your mother. Nodding, you watched as he stood up, approaching her. She flinched away from him, but he grabbed her, glamouring her, telling her a fabricated story, before sending her to bed.

Despite still having a wound, your stomach no longer hurt, but rather churned. Armand looked down at you, Patting your stomach, he smiled.

“No worries, it is normal, and won't last for long,” he said, kissing your cheek.

“What are we?” you asked him, as your body felt physically exhausted.

“We are vampires and we will have an eternity together”

“Promise?”

“I promise”

“I’m sorry,” Robert said, genuinely feeling pity for you.

“Oh no, there is no need to be sorry, my father was a terrible man, as was Christoper, no different than Judas, it was unfortunate that I had been shot, but my maker and companion both avenged me, before I was given the dark gift,” you said, as Armand kissed your intertwined hand, while Louis kissed your cheek.

“And what of your mother?”

You remember as if it was yesterday when you got the letter in the mail. She was old, wheelchair-bound, and waiting for her time to come. She had sold everything and now lived in a retirement home. Louis had only wiped her memory up until the night you left, blaming her husband’s death on sickness. She wrote you a letter, begging that you would come see her, and out of curiosity, you showed up.

You felt bad for her, she couldn't help that she was brainwashed into the role of what was considered a good wife. However, when you showed up, first she praised how young you looked before she began to scold you. She couldn't believe you would up and abandon your family because of mistakes your father made, it was shameful, etc. You knew it was wrong, but you made her remember everything, a devious smirk on your face as you left the facility. She screamed that same scream from that night, terrified by the things she had seen and allowed.

“Her memory was erased and she lived the rest of her and died a happy old woman,” you smirked.

“After your time at Midnight Oasis was that the night of your music career, until recently?”

“No, I continued there a few more years and went on to do some behind-the-scenes work, songwriting, producing, a little bit of everything”

“Do you ever…do you ever think of seeing other vampires, or even people? An eternity seems like a long time to be bound to someone,” he managed to get out. You could practically see the steam radiating from Armand and Louis, as they stared at him. Laughing, you lay your head on Louis’s shoulder

“Not really, companionships are different than any average relationship, so the circumstances are really the same either”

“Miss Y/n, excuse me, but your meals have arrived,” Joy peeked into the living room.

“I’m afraid this interview will have to be cut short, Robert,” you told him, leaning forward, an enthusiastic grin on your lips.

“We will finish on Zoom, ciao,” you waved, as he blushed, packing his things.

“I will see you, then,” he said, unable to meet the eyes of Armand and Louis because of their harsh stares.

“Did you have to scare him?”

“He’s lucky he didn't get worse,” Louis said.

“Exactly, with his perverted thoughts, I should have ripped every limb from his pathetic body-

“If you two kill every person who wants me, who will fawn over me?” you asked them, while they shared an expression.

“Us,” they said, in a matter-of-fact tone.

“Obviously, but you like when I’m performing, being ravished with attention, not just you two but others,” you pouted, as you began to open the robe.

“Of course, but it is infuriating hearing the thoughts of everyone who thinks they could have a chance with you”

“Let them have their fantasies, it is on the stage that they can use their imagination, but you both know I won't be going anywhere any time soon,” you said, kissing Armand’s lips, then Louis’s.

“Promise?” Louis asked you.

“I promise,” you laughed, your pinkies wrapping around both of their pinkies.

“Miss Y/n, your first meal…”

i'm not sure about how i feel about this one, but time will tell…

[lesbiankimdahyun]

CONTRACT LOVER III: SANA

2.4K words

CW: A/B/O dynamics, G!P, filming during sex

[A!Momo + A!Sana x F!O!Reader]

As soon as the heavy door shut behind her, Momo and Sana closed the gap between you and them. 

“Finally,” Momo said, hastily moving Mina’s Nintendo Switch onto the nightstand. 

“Why’s Mina so prickly? Did you two fight or something?” Sana asked you while taking her own shirt off.

“Who cares,” Momo said. She froze immediately after she said it. “I mean, obviously I… fuck, you know what I’m trying– there’s nothing wrong right?” The Alpha paused for a moment, giving you time to speak up if needed. You shook your head a little and Momo smiled, taking her power over you right back. “That’s what I thought. She probably just needs to eat and then she’ll feel better. Now c’mere, baby,” Momo beckoned, curling her index finger. You obliged, scooting away from the headboard to meet her toward the end of the bed. 

Sana looked as if she was going to respond, but when you came closer, a whiff of your scent cleared her mind of any interpersonal concerns. The two Alphas rid themselves of the rest of their clothing while Momo studied your body intensely. 

“Stand up for me?” The oldest Alpha posed it as a question, but it was more of a command. 

You stood. You swallowed hard, unsure of where she was going with her request. 

She looked you up and down, circling you. The oldest of the three, Momo was also the most, well, Alpha. Neither Sana nor Mina, let alone any of TWICE’s other Alphas literally circled their Omegas like prey. At first you couldn’t tell what she was doing, but then she stepped closer, engrossed in delicately tracing over the deepest, darkest bruises and marks along your neck, chest, hips and ass. You could feel her breathing slow as her fingertips ghosted over the damage she’d done. 

“So pretty like this,” Momo murmured. Her scent was stronger now, too. You could smell how clearly aroused she was just from looking at your bruised body. She nudged your legs apart with her foot, watching Mina’s cum from earlier and your own wetness drip down your thighs. She hummed thoughtfully. “Looks like you need another breeding or two though, don’t you?” 

You nodded, your eyes flicking over to Sana now that she was naked, too. The younger Alpha approached you, flooding your mind momentarily with a wave of her soft but potent scent. She gently pushed you, making you sit back down on the bed as she stepped closer, leaving you face to face with her throbbing cock. She looked down at you expectantly, her soft light brown hair falling over her slender shoulders. 

Her actions made your mouth start salivating immediately. Momo scoffed as Sana pushed her hips forward ever so slightly, bringing her leaking head to your lips. “Sorry Momo,” Sana said, reaching down to grab your hand and guide it to Momo’s cock. “Me first.” 

You knew exactly what she wanted, and your jaw ached from having given so many blowjobs to the three of them day after day after day. Still, you obediently opened your mouth to let Sana in while your hand wrapped around Momo’s stiff shaft. 

For a moment there was complete silence as you began to jack off Momo while your lips and tongue got reacquainted with Sana’s cock. Momo sucked in her breath at the feeling of your soft palm. 

“Mmm,” Sana closed her eyes for a moment as you took her tip in, your tongue working to coax her to push more of her length into your mouth. She obliged, reaching down to put a hand behind your head to hold you in place. 

You let out a muffled moan while you serviced her. You did your best to fight your gag reflex while she began to fuck carelessly into your mouth. There were no warm up thrusts, no slow pace to let you adjust. Sana’s need was as strong as her scent now, almost too strong as her Alpha instincts clouded her mind.  

Sana let out a moan and Momo, it was clear, was just going to have to wait her turn. But just as soon as her dick was in your hand, it was gone as Sana pulled out of your mouth and grabbed you by your hair, wanting to rearrange you on the bed. Momo sighed frustratedly when you let go, but moved onto the bed too, knowing at least she’d get a turn with your mouth now. Once Sana had you on all fours, the younger Alpha looked down at your wet pussy hungrily and lined herself up. She let out a moan as she stuffed herself inside of you, too eager to warn you before bottoming out inside you. It didn’t matter, though. You were drenched and you could only whine as your cunt took her in. 

“So ready for me,” Sana praised, thrusting into you roughly a few times, making you yelp around Momo’s cock, which had only just entered your mouth. Your noises, if she could hear them at all, didn’t phase Sana at all. She continued to torment you with her cock, pulling out until only her tip was left inside you, and slamming her hips against you forcefully to sink her cock back inside. Her hands held on tightly to your waist until she finally settled into her natural pace. Her strokes were much faster than both Momo’s and Mina’s. They always were– Sana could never hide how desperate she was to knot an Omega when she was rutting. It was so primal, and it turned you on in a way only an Omega could be. It was animalistic, the need so clear in her eyes. Knowing you were the Omega she wanted to empty herself into made the brutally swift pace of her fucking worth it. You were the one who could give her exactly what she needed: a pretty, warm, receptive cunt to claim. 

You tried your best to give Momo good head, but Sana’s fast-paced fucking was making it hard to focus as your cunt clenched around her. Sana was insatiable, and her scent now overpowered Momo’s. Her scent did exactly what she needed it to: make your head spin and your muscles relax so she could overtake you. Momo, on the other hand, wrinkled her nose in response. Realizing you were having trouble keeping up with the blowjob you were supposed to be giving her, Momo took pity on you and pulled out of your mouth. A trail of spit connected her cock and your lips, making the older Alpha smirk. “Messy little airhead,” she purred.

With your mouth now free from Momo, Sana quickly took advantage of you and pinned you down to the bed. 

“Fuck, Y/N,” she whined, pounding you mercilessly. She was panting now, her thrusts as sloppy as they were fast. Her skin felt hot against your body and you felt it now-- her knot had started to grow at the base of her cock. “Look what you do to me…”

The side of your head was held down against the mattress by Sana’s hand, giving you a limited scope of vision, but out of the corner of your eye you saw Momo smile wickedly to herself as she got up to get her phone. She sat down on the second queen size bed across from the one Sana was fucking you on and spread her legs. Her left hand focused on slowly jacking off her stiff cock while the other held her phone so she could record you and Sana. 

Seeing Momo recording, Sana pulled your head up briefly by your hair again and turned you the other way so your face was hidden from the camera’s red recording eye. The hair on the back of your neck stood up as Sana then leaned down over you, possessively stretching your pussy out on her cock deeply while she inhaled your scent. You could feel her breath on your neck, and closed your eyes for a moment, if only to imagine what it would feel like if her teeth were to graze and sink into your skin. 

Imagining her biting and claiming you only made your cunt more receptive to her cock. Thank god for instinct, you thought, because without it, there would have been no way your throbbing pussy could have taken her rutting cock this easily. Of course it hurt after being used so many times in recent days, but your Omega instincts always won out in the end, allowing your cunt to welcome her back inside every time in hopes of being bred. 

An unexpected, particularly rough thrust from Sana made you cry out suddenly. Tears sprang to your eyes and you tried to adjust yourself under her, anticipating what was coming as you felt her swollen knot press repeatedly against your entrance. 

“Oh, are you really going to cry?” Sana said, looking down at you. “Poor thing, imagine how much more my knot’s going to hurt.” Sana smiled cruelly at you. “No really,” she continued, “I want you to imagine the pain. I know it makes you clench–” she cursed when your pussy did exactly what she expected, making her let out a shallow breath, “Like that.” Sana paused for a moment, watching her cock disappear into your soaked, willing pussy. “What, don’t you like it? Should I stop?” The Alpha stopped moving altogether, which somehow felt even worse than struggling to receive her knot. You let out a weak, frustrated wail and your hips betrayed you, grinding desperately to try to get any sort of friction from her cock. 

“That’s what I thought,” Sana said, smirking at Momo while she continued recording. “Even when it hurts…” she readjusted herself, pinning you beneath her and mounting you properly, “you still need my cock in you. You need it to hurt, don't you?” 

Sana readjusted herself slightly, using her weight to force herself somehow even deeper inside you than she had been previously. You started to let out another strangled cry but she stopped you midway through, grabbing a handful of your hair and pulling so you had no choice but to look up at her. Your pussy throbbed, threatening to cum.

“No tears, okay? I know you can take it without crying.” Her voice was sweet, but her touch was anything but. Without warning, she slapped the side of your face, hard, making you gasp and comply. “Be good and let me use that pretty cunt.” Your once hooded eyes were now wide open, one side of your face stinging and red. The Alpha smiled proudly. “Smell her Momo, turned on and scared now.” 

A moment later, your face was pulled away by Momo, who grabbed you by your cheek. She focused the camera on you, studying you for a moment before adding another couple light smacks to your already-reddened cheek. 

“Touch yourself,” Momo commanded, and you did, slipping a hand between your legs shakily as Sana continued to thrust into you. You had barely had a chance to touch your dripping clit before you were stopped. “Now show me your fingers.” Momo zoomed the camera in on your glistening fingers as your hand re-emerged. 

“She likes it,” Momo said. “So wet... are you going to cum on her knot already?” 

You nodded as much as you could, your movement limited again by Sana, who had regained her tight grasp on your hair. 

“Down,” she growled, forcing your head deep into the sheets of the mattress. Your body followed and you sank further into the bed. Momo, back to stroking herself slowly while watching, let out a soft hum of appreciation for the show you and Sana were giving her. Your pussy clenched around the Alpha’s cock, ready for her now. With a hiss and final powerful thrust, Sana fit her knot inside you. You choked back an anguished scream, hands clawing at the sheets as the pain hit you. To your temporary relief, Sana fucked you a little slower now, but you knew it was only because she wanted to savor the sensation before she allowed herself to spill in you.

Reaching down and using her thumb, the Alpha teased your clit, making you whine and buck against her. She built you up in no time, and before you knew it, you were panting and cumming, your hips grinding down hard onto her cock. 

Sana, feeling your pussy come around her knot, gasped. Unable to hold back anymore, she growled and pressed into you, her regular pace back and quicker than ever. You let out a shuddered breath, feeling lightheaded from the pleasure and pain of being nearly split apart by the Alpha. 

“Ah! Good toy,” Sana panted, “Now take it all.” She gripped your hips harder and grunted, holding you still while she knotted you, plugging you up nice and full. Both of you let out moans at the overwhelming feeling. Your cunt clenched again and again around her knot, draining her of everything she had.

The Alpha, needing time before she was soft enough to pull out, made herself comfortable as she stayed mounted on top of you. She took her time, catching her breath and continuing to lightly thrust into you even though it was overstimulating for the both of you. Tired from the effort of taking her, you allowed yourself to be pressed against the bed like a ragdoll and recover for those few precious minutes. Before long, you felt Sana slide out of you. You whined at the empty feeling, making Sana and Momo chuckle beneath their breaths. 

“Pretty thing, I wish I could stay,” Sana said while reaching for her clothes. Her eyes were a little less sadistic than before, but only slightly. “But we all know I’d get hard again if I watched Momo take you next.” She changed quickly, giving Momo a knowing look as she came back over to say goodbye. Sana lifted your heavy, tired head. “C’mere,” she said, nuzzling her head against your neck briefly. “Wanna wear your scent on me while I’m out.” She inhaled deeply once more, then let you drop your head back down on the bed. She turned to go, but paused for a moment in front of the other Alpha.

You watched as Sana amusedly palmed Momo’s cock for a few moments, then took it in her hand. Momo, surprised, grunted appreciatively as she watched Sana work her shaft in her soft, manicured hand. Sana kept going, waiting until Momo closed her eyes from pleasure before letting go abruptly, leaving the other Alpha feeling damn near crazed from being worked up and teased for so long.  

“Good luck with Momo,” Sana said, winking at you. And then she was gone, leaving you alone with the other Alpha. 

[charcoaldustonmyfingers]

Kinda oddly embarrassed to send this but oh my god your art is so pleasing to look at for some reason

I think it's just the soft shapes you use and how amazingly 3D everything tends to look?? Like the angles and proportions are just so perfect that I find it easy to imagine most of what you draw as a 3D model or something

And like I don't think I could nail it like you (maybe with time!!) But I am definitely taking inspiration from it because it DOES get me thinking about how you use shapes and angles and wonder if I could practice that because oh my god I wish I could absorb your art

Do you have methods or techniques to make it look so 3D? if you know what I mean? I tend to use grids to try and map out the shapes in a vaguely 3D plane, so I was wondering if you had tips kinda like that to share with the class? or if you're just winging it and it's a lot of practice?

Thank you so much!!! It really means a lot to me when others take inspiration from my art, it reminds me of all the artists I used to look up to and emulate when I was first starting out on MSPaint with a broken trackpad for a pen, you don’t have to be embarrassed! You’ll definitely be able to harness 3D space and create fantastic work, you’re already well on your way! Having passion and a desire to learn will take you far :)

My biggest focus whenever I draw is to make the characters feel real, as though you could reach out and enter the space they’re in to sit next to them on the couch. I’m so glad that I’m able to pull it off! Thanks for the rose, I’ll be sure to cherish it :)

As for my methods and techniques…

Drawing on a 3D grid plane is definitely something I do! Its perfect for comic panels or storyboards, to set the scene and ground characters or props to their environment.

I did a lot of classical study, that is life drawing and still life drawing, but simply using reference for buildings and anatomy also helps a lot and is a lot easier to find. I’d also sketch my hands, plastic animals, and my surroundings, as well as people watch for inspiration for character mannerisms or fashion. It’s useful to know a little bit about the inner workings of anatomy, as there are places were bone makes a person inflexible, while places with more muscle or fat are affected by things like gravity or pressure that change their shape. Drawing a flour sac to act out different emotions is a great way to practice weight and character acting!

Having studied animation, I did a lot of turnarounds to get characters consistent and able to be rotated in 3D space. It can be pretty tedious for some people, but it really does help solidify the characters’ shapes and design, and serves as great reference to look back on if you need it! If you don’t want to do something so stiff as a turnaround, simply drawing expressions and poses from dynamic angles helps too. I’ve found that breaking a character down into basic shapes that are easy to draw in a 3D plane also can help my anatomy and foreshortening be more accurate.

Most importantly, find something that brings you joy to draw! Every “traditional” method of study can be applied to things you like, so don’t feel the need to burn out thinking you can only draw the Mona Lisa or whatever. I’ve done anatomy studies on the Rise turtles to figure out their skeletal structure, and friends of mine have painted some mind blowing concept art inspired by Sonic and D&D!

I hope this helps some? Best of luck, and have fun! :D

Below are a couple of examples of some of my studies:

[heizlut]

My opinion on who would have the nastiest kinks, in no particular order:

Kaeya (yes, I'm the anon who made the kaeya degradation ask, thank you for the food)- I dunno why, but I think Kaeya would be really obsessed with covering you with his cum. On your face, on your chest, on your ass.... I think he would cum on the floor and push your head against it and order you to lick it. Sorry not sorry (he did clean the floor before, if you don't think he planned the entire day weeks before you are really innocent) He would pull you to do quickies before a reunion and cum inside of you and take your panties, leaving you to work all day while leaking. Don't worry.... He will come during the day to replace the cum who dripped out of you.

Scaramouche- I don't think he has many extreme kinks imo, but I think he gets REALLY INTENSE about the ones he does have. If he's gonna degrade you, he will NOT hold back. He will slap your face, pull your hair, spit on you, manhandle you like you are just his plaything. Would put a collar and leash on you, pull you around the house and laugh at how pathetic you are. Don't you know how dangerous he is? He could kill you in an instant. He would reward you stupidity with more rough fucking. But don't worry, he has a killer aftercare ready(probably one of the best ones at it), and he would totally cry after everything bc he really loves you and caring for you feels as good as giving you a good fucking

Zhongli- Hear me out. 24/7 dynamics. You sign out your body to him for an entire week. You are his faithful servant, and adore him like the god he is. He takes care of you, but as it says in your contract, you are HIS. You will wear a collar with his brand on your neck. You are his pretty little worshipper, and he will enjoy it as much as possible.

Ayato- Listen. Listen. This man. You CANNOT talk about filthy genshin men and not talk about Ayato. I think he's really similar to Kaeya in regard to his planning, he would map out the entire day to tease you as much as possible and leave you worked up for the night. When it finally comes, he still wouldn't do anything about it except teasing you. You are the one who has to go to him to ask him for sex, and he will mock you for it. He is really skilled in shibari, and will try putting you in a different pose everytime. He will have custom made toys ready, imported from Fontaine. He will play with your body, never letting you cum even once. He is a master at playing you like an instrument, and looking so graceful and beautiful while doing it. You will beg for him to let you cum, and he will just give him that smile.... That smile that tells you that it's only over when he wants it to be over. (Also he would totally call Thoma over to watch and help him in his torture.... put a blindfold on you and make you guess which cock you are sucking)

I would say more but I have to leave

anon… this is the greatest thing i have ever woken up to😩 you’re an absolute genius for this and you just gave me some really great ideas. i’m so obsessed with you🫶🏼

[2knightt]

if you havent already, request for the outsiders boys with a super sweet sunshine s/o?

↳i love you, so let me get to you!₊˚✧

──IN WHICH, the gang dates a happy go-lucky reader!。✦

||✰ — the gang, separately

Johnny Cade ;

your kindness probably frightened him at first, he wasn’t used to anyone as nice as you.

but when he gets to know you are—he can’t get enough.

your happiness probably rubs off on him.

johnny’s smiling more, opening doors for people, and has a little spring in his step.

the gang definitely knows about you and teases johnny about it.

“you gotta stop hangin’ ‘round y/n. you’re starting to get their smile.”

“yeah, johnnycakes. i swear—i ain’t never seen you this happy.”

“get used to it, i dunno.”

you refuse to see the bad in people, and honestly johnny kinda likes that mindset.

but he doesn’t at the same time.

he knows people in the world suck, he knows how cruel it can be—but with you by his side, you make it bearable.

you make him feel actual hope that he can get out of this place.

make him feel like he has a future.

“thank you.”

“for what?”

“..everything, y/n.”

Dallas Winston ;

opposites attract dare i say?

i can see you calming dallas down, just a bit though.

not too much. just a lot.

he stops beating up people for no reason, yelling so much, and even helps a few old ladies cross the street.

only when people aren’t look though. this is still dallas.

“jus’ get outta ‘ere, punk!”

“aw, dallas! you let ‘em go! ‘m so proud.”

“whatever.”

he mumbles, snaking an arm around your waist with his other hand stuffed in his pocket.

the gang was so fucking shocked when they found out you two were dating.

“…for real?”

“you ain’t pulling our legs, are ya?”

“no? what the hell would make you guys think that?”

“they’re sweet while you’re—you.”

“fuck’s that ‘posed mean?”

“nothing.”

i feel like a lot of people would judge you for being so happy, especially with the situation with soc’s and greasers.

but dally shuts them up real fast.

“they gotta be on drugs. no way someone can be that happ—“

“who? who’s on drugs? c’mon, you can tell me.”

“uh—no one, dallas.”

“you sure?”

“yeah.”

punches them anyways.

but i don’t want you to scroll with a bad taste in your mouth.

just know, you’re the only relationship dally has been serious about in a long time.

a very, long time. so—he loves you to death.

Ponyboy Curtis ;

admired you somewhat.

he loves the aura that surrounds you. he thinks it’s different—way different than what he’s used too.

he’s used to people beating others, spitting on people, mocking, teasing.

but you?

you go out of your way to help those who were pushed down, bullied, spit on.

he admired that. he admired you.

he loved that about you.

tries to pick up your habits—but ends up failing.

“pony, when’d you become so…happy go-lucky, huh?”

“is it bothering you?”

“a little.”

“…fuck you too then.”

i feel like he’d look for a partner like that.

his type??? possibly???

you just,

give him hope.

hope that he can leave tusla and live the life he wanted on the country side.

Sodapop Curtis ;

same thing, different font.

you two get along so well it’s sickening.

when the two of you walk in a room together you blind everyone with how bright the both of you are.

im not joking.

“did he really, soda?”

“yeah! can you believ—“

“JESUS CHRIST!”

“what?”

“get out.”

“WHY?!”

“what?!”

“y’all are ruining my bad mood. screw off.”

“is he always like this?”

“yeah. just ignore two-bit.”

takes after you a lot.

like a lot.

started fighting less, helping out more costumers at the DX, etc.

he loves talking about you.

he just

does.

you’re all he talks about. i’d know, cause i’m literally writing this rn.

Darry Curtis ;

THIS DYNAMIC IS SO CUTE OH MY GOD.

cold, closed off darry with a cute, kind and sweet reader.

i’m crying just thinking about it.

you force him to open him to others.

literally.

“how’s your day, darry?”

“okay.”

“just okay? didn’t something happen at work today?”

“well yeah.”

“then tell, em! he’s your brother, babe.”

people always chuckle, seeing you cling to his arm—all smiles while he sits, looking like a guard dog.

but as soon as darry glares at them—they stop laughing.

everyone calls you sunshine after darry mockingly called you that. sorry i don’t make the rules :/ (yes i do.)

“hey, sunshine!”

“oh—hey, dal!”

“don’t call them that.”

“why not, superman?”

“because.”

Steve Randle ;

Guard dog 2.0

you gotta hold him back all the time help.

“steve! you know violence isn’t good—i hate it!”

“LEMME AT ‘EM, BABE! C’MON!!”

isn’t also—not used to people being so nice to him.

so you being so affectionate, looking out for him, loving him—just being so nice to him in general is so..shocking.

“you did so good today, love. ‘m so proud.”

“what?”

“oh? did you not hear me?”

“no—i did. it was just, outta nowhere. kinda spooked me a lil.”

please just love him.

please. he needs it.

he needs someone like you in his life and he’s so glad you are in his life.

he would’ve lost his mind a long time ago if you weren’t.

Two-bit Matthews ;

YALL ARE SO CUTE.

silly goofy guy with a sweet loving partner.

you let him ramble about anything and everything. he couldn’t be more happy.

“and they dance, like all the time!”

“even the dog?”

“EVEN THE DOG! he got his own moves, y/n!”

brags about dating the kindest person in Tulsa 24/7.

like, actually.

if you don’t like his drinking cause you know it’s slowly killing him, he’ll slow down on it.

“two, you know i don’t like you drinkin’ this stuff!”

“i know. but it’ll be my last one tonight, promise.”

“better be, ‘m worried for you.”

you’re like all he talks about.

he’s just so blessed to have an angel in his life!

like, what’d a guy like him do to get a person like you? save a country?

[hwsing]

I’m very curious about any NSFW Headcanons/takes you have for Canada. 👀

sex, eh?

notes: 18+, reader is gender neutral and i don’t think reader’s genitals are mentioned. includes: canada (matthew williams). as always, reblogs are appreciated!

cw: this is more babbling than anything else; verse! matthew, outdoors sex, hair pulling, dick description. wc: about 580. not proof read. not much comes to mind for this lad but please feel free to request anything about him!

it’s so interesting to me that so many people want this man because he is so unfuckable to me its hilarious. i have to really put on my thinking cap here, but, i do think matthew is genuinely quite a giving partner. i also get the impression of him that he does like to dom (soft dom lets be clear). its a bit of a stereotype these days i think, but he seems like the type to enjoy that sort of dynamic since he can often feel overlooked in his day to day life.

despite that, i feel like he has iffy feelings on brats. he’s not the most kinky guy out there to begin with, so declining/training/ god forbid punishing is a ways outside his comfort zone. he’d much prefer to just make you feel good. now, if you reallllllly want to experiment in the more brat side of things, he’ll try a bit, but again, don’t expect anything particularly hardcore. at best, he’ll be manhandling you. when it comes to how he touches you, though, he’d rather give you sweet, open mouthed kisses down your chest to stomach!

really really really likes when his hair is tugged on. whether it it’s when you’re kissing or he’s giving you head, he just loves the little tugs to his roots. it’s a bit grounding, really; the blond is prone to overthinking and getting lost in his own thoughts. in a way, you’re yanking him back down, forcing him to focus more on the here and now.

public sex is a no go, but… outdoors sex?? this is by no means a habit of his, but if you two are camping……….. he prefers to camp by your own means rather than just. use an overcrowded campsite, so it’s not like anyone is really going to be around. with the thick forest as your walls of protection, why not get up to a bit of fun? he honestly really likes it, even if you’re only willing to do it inside the tent. although, if you’re willing to fuck against a tree, he’s more than happy to oblige!

he’s got pretty good stamina. he’s worked in the outdoors most of his life — he’s very fit. not particularly bulking, but muscular and somewhat lean. eats a good diet too. he lasts quite a while to begin with, but can go a few rounds as well! usually caps off at max two though, unless you specifically ask for more. he has a hard time saying no to you in most contexts,, he can’t help it, he thinks you’re so cute :(

still a verse at the end of the day, and if you try to take the reigns, he’s not going to put up much of a fight. again, he has a hard time denying you; quite literally putty in your hands if you decide to dom.

i dont imagine him very noisy in the bedroom. mostly soft and small moans and groans, some whimpering when he’s close. he’s not silent but not talkative either. he’s inclined to sing your praises and all that, but quietly, only for you to hear. that, and he can get a bit embarrassed by speaking so intimately, so it’s just easier for him to say it softly lolol.

this feels kinda bland so here’s a small treat: i’d guess he’s about 6.8”, trims quite close and very hygienic. slightly thick but not so much so that it’s pose a problem. very sensitive.

[heliads]

Hi!! I’m so excited your request are open I love your work!! I would like to request Charles leclerc x reader where he finds out the girl he has a crush on is a street racer and decides to finally approach her and talk ending up in him asking her out on a date. I hope this makes sense, sorry if it doesn’t 🥲💗

'first sight' - charles leclerc

masterlist

Charles Leclerc has never found himself as thoroughly engrossed in the dynamics of street racing as he is right now. He has, of course, been vaguely aware of it before, as someone who was born in Monaco’s lap of luxury and then subsequently indoctrinated in the grand and glorious art of racing sports cars, but not like this. Never like this.

If he were in the mood to be particularly honest, Charles would admit that he’s not just interested in street racing all of a sudden because of the same need for speed that’s consumed his life and led him to Formula One. Nor is he here because he’s developed a taste past sports cars to souped up tin cans. No, he’s here because of one driver, a woman. A woman named Y/N L/N.

See, this was never Charles’ intent. He would have been able to skip this unfortunate little obsession in his life were it not for the fact that he’s best friends with Pierre, and Pierre is way too fond of his girlfriend Kika to ever say no to her. So, when Kika begged Pierre to come with her to watch a friend’s street race, Pierre decided that he simply couldn’t do it alone and forced Charles to tag along as well, because of course there’s nothing Charles likes more than third wheeling the two of them on yet another flirtatious date night.

Charles had assumed it would be another long night of alternating between wishing he was back home, worrying he should be on the simulator more often, and wondering if he should have dragged along a brother or two so he wouldn’t have to watch Pierre and Kika ogling each other for the thousandth time that night. However, all of that changed when Kika led them over to meet her friend Y/N, who was racing that evening.

Charles is no stranger to pretty people. Every race, some new slew of celebrities gets a tour of the Ferrari motorhome. Charles has seen plenty of actresses and singers pose by his car and wear his merch, but it’s never really meant anything to him. He can tell when they’re fans or if they’re just doing it for good PR. Most celebrities are just people in higher tax brackets with higher rates of avoiding their taxes. You meet one, you meet them all. No amount of perfect smiles or dazzling faces can change that.

Y/N, though, was different. She was gorgeous, and Charles immediately felt as if he might have been run over by his own car several times. One look from her and he was lost in it, tumbling over and over in his mind. She had this charming confidence that Charles could only wish to emulate, the sort of ease you get when you know you’re better than everyone and don’t need to remind people of it because you know you’ll prove it the second you get to work.

If it were not obvious by now, Charles is in love, alarmingly so. Even after Kika makes some quick introductions and Charles manages to shake Y/N’s hand and stammer out a few pleasantries about it being a nice night for a race, he’s still left wishing he could get himself together long enough to be a real human being. Y/N probably thinks he’s insane, but she’s still smiling when she leaves them, so at least he hasn’t done too terribly.

Pierre, by contrast, seems to think otherwise. Y/N is barely out of earshot when the other driver turns him, unable to hide his laughter. “Charles, man, what was that? You look like you forgot your own name.”

“I don’t need to remember mine,” Charles murmurs, watching Y/N go, “Just hers.”

Pierre rolls his eyes. “Be serious. You fall in love a hundred times a week.”

Charles sputters indignantly. “That is not true. And besides, this is different.”

Pierre can’t persuade him otherwise. The drivers on the scene that night start their engines, and Charles watches from the sidelines, captivated, as Y/N accelerates to an early win. Once the race is over, Y/N runs over to Kika, who embraces her friend with an excited hug.

“Well?” Y/N asks Charles once she’s released from Kika, “What does the Formula One driver have to say about that? Fast enough for you even without V6 engines?”

Charles does his best not to fall to pieces. “Um, yeah. It was very great.”

She flashes him a bright grin. “Perfect. See you at the next race, Leclerc.”

With that, she pushes back into the crowd, receiving congratulations and praise from her other friends. Pierre is grumbling something about not getting asked as well since Charles isn’t the only F1 driver around, but Charles just laughs, still giddy on the aftereffects of those shining eyes on his.

Pierre expects him to just bounce back from this little crush, and truth be told, Charles would appreciate it if he could, but no such luck. Even a few weeks after that first race, Charles is still hopeless over Y/N. He scans articles on street racing, memorizes the names of her competitors, and becomes an expert on her win history. She’s fast, super fast, and it looks like the easy victory Charles had seen was just a typical habit of Y/N L/N when it comes to racing.

Needless to say, he was captivated. Although Charles usually tries to keep a little pride when it comes to these sorts of things, he only made it two weeks before caving and asking Pierre if he and Kika were planning on attending any more street races. Charles wondered this for no reason, of course. Just, you know, his natural love of racecars.

Pierre sees right through it. “You want to see Y/N that badly, huh?” Pierre asks skeptically. “Jeez, man, I didn’t think you were such a simp.”

“You didn’t even know what that word meant until Kika taught it to you two days ago,” Charles says scornfully. “Now answer my question. Are you going or not?”

Eventually, and not without a fair amount of teasing, Pierre admits that they were planning to go to another race that Friday. Charles is able to convince his friend to let him tag along, but only under the condition that he would actually get up the courage to ask Y/N out instead of just staring like a lovesick puppy. Pierre’s words, not his.

This time, the race is actually legal. Y/N’s day job is a drag racer, although she tends to get bored on the weekends and shoot for a few undercover street races as well. So the fan Twitter pages say, at least. Charles definitely hasn’t been snooping around enough of those to know.

Now that he won’t get chastised by Ferrari PR for attending illegal races, Charles is free to post as much as he wishes about the race, the cars, and most importantly, the drivers. Barely half an hour has gone by before fans across the Internet are calling him out for ignoring literally every other car there to post about Y/N, but what does he care? Y/N’s probably too cool to look at those sorts of posts. Hopefully, or she’s going to think he’s insane. Again.

This time, though, when Y/N strolls by their area to say hi, she doesn’t just immediately focus on Kika. She says hi to her friend, of course, and thanks both Kika and Pierre for coming, but stops directly in front of Charles. All that separates them is the barrier of the stands. Well, that and the immutable fact that Charles is clearly crushing hard and she is clearly just having fun.

“Good to see you back, Charles,” she says.

Charles grins. He’d promised himself he’d play it cool this time, but he’s already failing at that aim. “You remembered my name?”

“I had plenty of your social media posts to remind me,” she says, one eyebrow quirked.

Pierre facepalms by his side. Charles ignores him. “I was excited,” he tells her as casually as he can. “Is that a bad thing?”

“I don’t know yet,” Y/N muses. “I suppose I’d have to get to know you better.”

“I have no problems with that,” Charles grins cheekily. “How about I take you out to dinner and you decide for yourself?”

In Charles’ peripheral vision, he can see Pierre’s look of desolation turn to slow shock, but come on now, there was no chance Charles wasn’t going to follow through and ask Y/N out. The only thing he needs now is for Y/N to say yes.

She doesn’t answer immediately, but judging by the way her cool smile brightens, it’s less because she dislikes him outright and more because she enjoys playing with him, which is perfectly fine by Charles. If he respects the game, he has to respect the players as well.

“I’ll have to wait and see how I feel after the race,” Y/N responds at last. “Maybe I’ll lose and I’ll be too devastated to go out with anyone.”

Charles rolls his eyes. “I doubt that will happen, but alright.”

Y/N gives him a surprised look. “You’re willing to bet that I’ll only go out with you if I win?”

“I’m willing to bet on the excellent odds that you win every time,” Charles answers with a wink. See, Pierre? He can be smooth when he needs to be.

Y/N laughs at that, evidently pleased. “I’ll have to make sure I don’t let you down. See you after the race, Charles.”

With that, Y/N joins the throng of other drivers heading towards their cars to begin the race. Once she’s gone, Charles turns to Pierre, far more proud than he should be. “I don’t want to ever hear you complaining about my flirting again. Did I not do what I had to do?”

“You did,” Pierre grumbles, “but she still didn’t say yes, you idiot.”

Charles scoffs. “She absolutely did. She didn’t say no.”

Pierre can’t technically argue with this, so it’s up to Kika to distract them both from technicalities by asking them about one of their upcoming races, a surefire method of changing the subject. It does little to divert Charles from his own nerves, though. Suddenly, he’s gripped with an impossible terror that something will happen with Y/N’s car, or maybe she might come in second place and not first, and she wouldn’t want to go out with him after all. He shouldn’t have left it up to chance like that. He should have just gone after what he wanted in the first place.

Charles is a nervous mess the whole race. When the checkered flag waves, though, he’s finally able to relax. Y/N wins, and that means Charles has just scored himself a date with the prettiest woman he’s ever seen. 

Y/N takes her time in coming around to his section of the stands, just to mess with him. At last, though, they’re face-to-face again. Y/N is breathless and thrilled with the victory. Charles thinks he could bask in her glow forever.

“So?” He asks casually, “How about that date, then?”

Y/N grins. “I think it’ll work out. You can pick me up at seven. Does Saturday work for you?”

“Saturday is great,” Charles says a little too quickly, then tries to recover. “Wear something pretty.”

“Don’t I always?” She jokes, gesturing to her race suit.

Charles laughs with her. It’s easy. He can imagine doing it many times again. “Of course.”

Her laugh settles into a quiet smile. Even in the tumultuous uproar of a race that’s just been won, Charles can focus on her instantly. He wants this, he decides. He wants her. And, with the way she’s looking at him now, mirroring the incline of his head towards hers, Charles knows that she wants the same thing. This is just the beginning. He cannot wait to see where they go from here.

f1 tag list: @j-brielmalfoy, @juphey

all tags list: @wordsarelife

[runningwithscizzorz]

hey lisey! i honestly love everything about your art, but I've always wondered how you got your poses to be so dynamic! i'm currently struggling with making my art more dynamic

I studied the shit outta Lore Olympus when I was younger and stupid enough to read it (don’t read it, it’s really really awful) since Rachel’s old art is actually really good and dynamic. Now I’m more inspired by Smarty-Prance’s work. They all have clear strong arcs in their movement, like you’re looking at a clip from an animation rather than a still image.

[broh3m3]

I love your art style, especially how energetic it is! How did your art style get such dynamic lines? Do you have any tips/advice/ideas on how to do that?

Thank you! Um... I'm not sure how to go about it, but I’ll try and give some tips on line confidence. I think my main advice would be to not let your sketch box you in- keeping it at a really low opacity so that your eyes don’t get used to seeing it with your line art when you draw over it (having your sketch opacity too high can give a different impression of your line work), leaving room to exaggerate or play around with fresh lines in the next phase.. It’s easier to do when you’re confident in your subject, so the sketch should be stable enough to convey that, but have fun with the process otherwise! For me, good line art comes out when I’m actively finding ways to build off the sketch’s energy while lining it, not when I’m trying to limit myself to it/already 100% happy with what it provides.

Here's a bit of a visualization! When going from the sketch to the line art, I was thinking that I could improve the flow of the cape, so I made the upper part less flat and balanced its curve with the bottom to keep the energy flowing. The slope of Kalim's pose could balance the curve of Jamil's sarouel, so I leaned into that when putting down the lines for Kalim's. Meanwhile having some areas be more linear helps give contrast. Line of action, straights against curves, etc. (I think this is delving more into gestural talk now) I'd recommend studying artists whose linework you enjoy too! Kaisen_Tobiuo was-and still is- a big inspiration of mine growing up for how expressive their works and line art felt. Also study naruto fanartists they're cracked It ended up being a bit of a ramble, but I hope this could help op!

[reallyhatethiswebsite]

OK OK HEAR ME OUT, tav/reader/whatev and haarlep tormenting raphael.. bonus points if reader is his own warlock. and by "tormenting" i mean tying him up and double teaming him :3 what does he have horns for if not to be used as handlebars...also i think haarlep would enjoy oral from him if not just for the power dynamic. bc raphael only cares about his own pleasure so why would he give them oral.

bonus bonus points if aftercare cuddles!! being half human i think he would yearn for non sexual physical touch but in a sick and twisted and evil way. but he would be too embarrassed to ask for anything like that. he is like a cat. I want to see him give in to the dark side... (receive cuddles) (even tho he doesnt deserve it)

i imagined this as reader/tav having a wiener/strap and being nonbinary (toootally not my own tav haha whatttt) but id love to see what u decide to write if you want to make anything out of this idea!!

gn tav, he/him for haarlep

-

“So…what are we thinking?” The demon croons. He's a wicked creature. Tav can only dream about reaching that level of dark allure one day. Haarlep's claws drag ever so gently up Raphael’s thick, naked thigh as he circles the bed like a predator toying with its food. The muscles beneath Raphael's ribbed cherry-red skin are taut with tension. The devil's expression is molten, either with desire or burning rage – likely both. “He's been very well-behaved, but I still want to play a little more…”

On their haunches at the foot of the bed, Tav observes their Patron. Raphael is spread out across his own silk red sheets, infernal rope around his wrists and ankles. Sweat dampens his temples, broad hairy chest, and strong shoulders. His cock strains, stiff and weeping, between his legs. His tail thumps. This isn't the first time Tav has witnessed him debauched in such a way. Far from it, now that they've been included in the devil's naughty games. Raphael’s sexual appetite was a surprise, but not unwelcome.

Sometimes you just want to get fucked really hard, a wise man once said. Tav hopes Astarion is doing well.

“You've played enough,” Raphael growls. He tests the strength of the bonds holding him. It's mostly for show. He could easily free himself if he wanted to. That, Tav thinks, is part of the thrill. Raphael is a magnanimous and generous enough master to allow his pets their fun. That he receives worship and satisfaction in return is surely just a bonus.

“Oh, but we haven't,” says Haarlep, pouts his lips. He crawls onto the bed up near Raphael's head, trailing his hands down his borrowed bare body. Squeezes his borrowed cock. Raphael inhales sharply. The incubus in his shared skin smiles. “I'm all hot and bothered, you see. Your little mouse is, too. We want to enjoy ourselves.”

Haarlep isn't wrong. Tav's been aroused and aching since they started. Raphael always makes them feel wild and out of control of their body. Something the devil likes to take advantage of sometimes. Tav says nothing, though. They like Haarlep (a lot) but Raphael is the fount of their power, and Tav is a good, obedient little warlock. Mostly.

“Do not forget your place, Haarlep,” Raphael snaps. “You are to serve me, not the other way around.”

“I could hardly forget when you make me wear your skin all the time,” says Haarlep, airy, unconcerned. He absently rubs his hands over his own chest, plucking his nipples with a serene smile. Raphael hisses. His poor nipples are deliciously sore, overstimulated, fat and hard just like his cock where his pets have been toying with them. “But that does pose an interesting question for me. Since I’m in your form, and you’re the master of the house…doesn’t that make me the master, too?”

“That is not how this works and you know it,” Raphael scoffs, almost amused. Until Haarlep presses the pad of one clawed finger into his cock’s tiny slit, drawing forth a sticky string of precum. Tav hungrily watches the incubus rub that glob of cum between his fingers and thumb, then stick them in his mouth to lewdly suck them clean. Raphael watches, too, jaw clenched. Haarlep smiles. He adores attention.

“Oh, but I think it might,” he says, wetly smacking his lips. “I think, when you’re laid out like this, drenched in lust and desperate for release…you are in my domain, and I am absolutely the master here. Fitting that I wear your skin, I suppose, though I’d hardly need it to take you apart. Isn’t that right, Mousie?”

“Uh, well…” Tav fumbles, unprepared for being put on the spot. Haarlep laughs, a little cruelly.

“Not a thought in that sweet, empty head of yours, is there? I’d say it’s because you’re so loaded up on my venom, but we both know you don’t need it to start falling all over yourself for me. Ah, and for our true master, of course.” Though Tav squirms, they aren’t really ashamed. The incubus speaks the truth, and they’ve long-since learned to come to terms with it. Being in the Hells, being a warlock of Raphael specifically, has done wonders for their inner hedonist. Haarlep’s tail sways lazily to and fro. He’s clearly having a fantastic time. He doesn’t get to indulge like this too often.

“Haarlep,” Raphael barks. Tests the bonds again. Their infernal runes flare.

“Someone’s getting impatient,” Haarlep says to Tav, who grins. The demon leans down to catch Raphael’s mouth in a filthy kiss, forked tongues entwining. As they kiss, they bite and snarl like the hellish creatures they are, and Tav stares, mouth dry, heat pulsing between their thighs and in their belly.

Watching these two handsome fiends carnally feast on each other is one of the most erotic things they’ve ever seen. They crush their legs together, flush with desire. They think they might understand why Raphael enjoys watching his pets kiss and fondle each other the same way. Of course they know Haarlep is also doing this to load Raphael up on aphrodisiac. It makes their master much looser with his inhibitions, allowing him to deny culpability if pressed (the sex pollen made him do it!) He’s already been dosed, but Raphael’s tolerance for incubus spit is high. Tav knows when it hits him because they see the devil’s dick twitch, a fresh pearl of cum ooze from his little hole and dribble down his ribbed cock. Tav can’t resist; they crawl on hands and knees to lick up that hot, salty trickle of cum. Raphael’s cock is warm and unyielding under Tav’s tongue and he jerks his hips, groaning into the humid cavern of Haarlep’s mouth. Haarlep breaks their noisy, violent kiss to tut at Tav.

“Couldn’t help yourself, could you?” He coos, condescending. A thin ribbon of bloody saliva still connects his lips to Raphael’s, the devil looking wrecked already. Cheeks dark with blush, pupils wide. He pants for breath, fangs shining, expression stormy. Haarlep strokes one claw along the edge of Raphael’s harsh cheekbone, smirking at the way the devil unconsciously leaned into the touch. “That’s alright. I want to use his pretty mouth in other ways. What do you think, Mousie? Should I stuff my cock down his throat? Or should I make him put that silver tongue to use and lick my cunt until I come all over his face?”

Both are amazing possibilities. Which one should Tav choose?

[kokiriri]

Hi!

I really like what you draw, I like how you draw your character.

Looking for an art style, I wanted to ask you. How did you find it?

Hope my question doesn't bother you... 😓

Have a nice day!

Hi!!

First of all, thank you for your kind words! I’m really happy that you enjoy my art :)

Great question! I think there’s always a lot of confusion when individuals are trying to discover their own styles (I’m often confused myself) but hopefully by sharing my experiences, it can make things a little more manageable for you.

I really think that my style now is a conglomeration of everything I’ve so far been interested in. And I’ll try to explain what I mean. When I was really little, I would draw things like “The PowerPuff Girls” or other shows like that because their character designs were simple and easy for me to draw. It wasn’t until I was around 10-11 when I started reading some Pokémon manga/comics (called “Pokémon Special” in English) I found at my local library. I really liked the style of these comics, so I would copy the way they drew eyes and such. My art began to get slightly more complex, and I began to move away from drawing simplistic cartoon bodies to more anatomically founded figures. These Pokémon comics are honestly the major foundation of my style.

Here’s some examples of what the comics looked like.⬆️

I was also obsessed with the Megaman EXE television show around the same time, along with this one comic featuring Megaman X. You would probably agree with me that the Pokémon comics and Megaman share a very similar style (at least, in terms of character design and structure.)

For years, I drew exclusively in a style very similar to the images you see above (albeit, I was still pretty young so my drawings weren’t nearly as good.) When I turned 13, I started watching Inuyasha, and again, my style shifted. I was largely inspired by how they drew hair in Inuyasha, especially the poofy bangs Inuyasha and Kagome have (the two characters in the image below.)

I started meshing those kinds of hairstyles with the Pokémon/Megaman styled bodies. Keep in mind that as I was doing this, I was drawing A LOT. Nearly everyday, during class, whatever. Because of that, I started to grasp a better understanding of what character design features I liked best and so on. However, my major flaw that I wish I realized sooner was that I hardly drew from reference. Please please please use photo references or other artworks you enjoy for poses or expressions because it really does improve your art! (Don’t blatantly copy and claim them as your own though, that will earn you a shadow ban from the art world.😵‍💫)

Fast forward to this year. I recently started getting into manga by Adachi Mitsuru because I fell in love with his retro comic style. Some of my favorite works of his are Touch and Cross Game, feel free to check them out! Anyways, I’ve been studying his art and what makes it appealing to me, and I found that I like the simplicity along with great dynamic poses. So I look at those panels that showcase those aspects the best, and try to redraw them! The first few drawings always look terrible, but after a bit, you begin to understand what you were missing the first time, and slowly you improve. Here are some panels from Cross Game to help you get a taste of what the art is like.

For me, it took years to develop my own style, and it will probably be the same for you. It doesn’t come easy, and although it sucks to admit, your art will look bad to you for the first few years after starting to draw. But know that each time you draw, your body memorizes the way it moves whenever you draw an arm, a hand, whatever, and it learns. Because of this, be sure to draw referencing styles that YOU like. That way, your body becomes slowly accustomed to a better way to draw hands that you enjoy, rather than getting stuck and not improving. And don’t be afraid to experiment with different styles! I try to draw out of my comfort zone, and that’s where I feel I learn the most.

I hope this post was helpful and provided good tips. Of course, you shouldn’t feel the need to watch/read all the shows and books I’ve referenced here because at the end of the day, you’re looking to forge your own style, not replicate mine. Find what shows and comics you love, and then ask yourself “Why do I find this appealing? What about the style is speaking to me?” And then draw those aspects/designs you enjoy. Just draw. Things will start to come together after that. :)

Bonne chance!

[amerricanartwork]

True Love Conquers All (Lilypad Essay cont.)

Ever since I realized the fairytale parallel was one of the main reasons I ship Lilypad, I've wanted to draw this, so here it is! Sig and Moon as Prince Phillip and Princess Aurora!

Actually, though, besides the drawing I'm also making this because I wanted to expand on that point from my Lilypad essay; there's still more I wanna gush about regarding the fairytale parallel!

I was too nervous to say it before, because it's derived largely from my personal tastes. However, I really wanna just write about my opinions on it now. Much of it's actually the feelings I've had about several ships before in various other fandoms, yet I've never really had the courage to express these feelings openly because I have yet to find even one person in any of these fandoms who feels the same way. However, I started thinking about it again, and I think it's about time I get it out somehow, at the very least to express these feelings in some tangible way so they don't stay bottled up forever. And maybe, just maybe, to find someone who likes these themes as much as I do!

Again, it's definitely very personal, so I don't mind if you completely disagree with all of it. But with that being said, if you want to read an additional 1,846 words on Lilypad fantasies, it's just below the cut!

To elaborate on why I love ships with fairytale parallels so much, it has to do with the poetic feeling stories like Sleeping Beauty seem to carry. I must preface that I don’t know the original fairytale, I’m pretty much entirely going off the 1959 animated Disney film, but even so I still love various themes within it and how they can be applied to other stories. Sleeping Beauty isn’t the only old Disney movie where I interpret these themes, or even the only animated story in general where these themes can be interpreted, but I think it’s overall the most similar to Lilypad specifically because of the whole “fair maiden dies and gets revived by the prince’s love” dynamic.

Something I’ve come to realize, especially upon developing a love for Rain World specifically, is that I adore stories about accepting one’s own nature and learning how to have it coexist with your personal goals rather than conflict with it. Sleeping Beauty has this not only through the eternal bond between Aurora and Phillip (I mean, “Once Upon a Dream” literally seems to be about how the singer will always love the person they fell for even if their love seemed too good to be true), but in the whole curse put on Aurora and the “true love conquers all” message. The conflict is all about how to ensure Aurora’s safety despite the impending doom of Maleficent’s curse on her, which is made more intense by how the curse can’t really be stopped, only lessened in severity. However, the inevitability of true love’s triumph over all obstacles, and really the inevitability of nature as a whole, is just so beautiful to me because it’s something so universal. As much as we may try to hide it, we humans are still animals, and still a part of nature as much as any other animal is, so the idea that forces as powerful and omnipresent as natural phenomenon could just as easily be on your side and working to help you reach your goals instead of trying to hurt you and keep you from them is very comforting specifically because of how powerful and inevitable these forces are. I mean, if forces like those can pose a seemingly impossible challenge when they seem to oppose your goals, what if they could also supply seemingly invincible support if you learned to work with them? Hence, why true love conquers all. It’s basically, “I can’t stop this thing, but maybe I don’t actually need to”. And the fact that both this and the next theme I’ll write about are present in stories which are, by this point, quite old, and can even be interpreted in newer and more recent stories just helps to further support their eternal, everlasting power by adding a sense of real-life timelessness to it all that I just find so beautiful!

Part of my love for stories like this actually comes from a specific natural force I freaking love and have been craving more of ever since I rewatched the old Disney movies and really begun to appreciate the poetic themes of them, and that force is the classic attraction between men and women. I’m not gonna get super into it now because I imagine I’ll have other chances to talk about this (again, Lilypad is far from the first ship I’ve derived this theme from, and I doubt it will be the last), but I’ll provide an intro of sorts to it here. If you’ve seen my full Lilypad essay you already know I’m a BIG fan of “inverses attract” ships, where the characters display opposite sides of the same base trait, conflict, or subject, and when they come together they help balance each other out in ways no one else can by offering each other the benefits unique to the other side of that subject. Well, simply put, if you ask me, what better example of this “inverses attract” dynamic exists in real life than the natural inverses of male and female, where the strong protectiveness and creative nurturing combine to literally create a family, from which all people come? The presence of the inverses attract dynamic is always nice to see in ships regardless of gender, but whether or not it occurs in this way specifically — that being whether or not it showcases the inverse characteristics of men and women and the positive potential when those forces combine as a team — is another major factor that, throughout my fandom experience so far, has determined which pairings I actively ship rather than just mildly smile at from time to time. (And on a side note, now that I have much more skill in art and feel more confident about my art, I figured it’s about time I start acting on that love more openly!)

So what in the WORLD does this all have to do with Lilypad?

Well, even disregarding how this very idea will basically be the major theme of my personal worm-off-the-string AU (I may elaborate on that more later because it’s just SO perfect for these particular characters and can even be interpreted in the base game to some degree), I think Lilypad, at least as I choose to imagine it, is the Rain World ship that best embodies this idea — that nature and instincts can actually help you once you simply stop fighting and accept them — more than any other in the fandom for a variety of reasons.

I’m actually going to start with how Looks to the Moon and No Significant Harassment, as strange as this may sound given who and what these characters are, actually do still display that feminine and masculine energy I love at least when I picture them, especially with Sig being confirmed as a “he” according to the wiki. It’s clear to me that Moon is very feminine (I mean, c’mon, her design in the CGs, how the moon is often associated with femininity and feminine things in real life, how she tries, even after her collapse, to connect with Five Pebbles and nurture their relationship in a very caring way, etc.), but I wanna elaborate on how part of the reason I love Sig as a character and the slag reset keys as a plot point so much is because it perfectly demonstrates that masculine protectiveness that happens in stories like Sleeping Beauty, where a man faces great trials all to rescue the fair maiden. Again, it may not have happened literally because Hunter had to deliver the slag keys, but the sentiment is the same if you ask me! And it’s always so nice to see because, again, he literally brought her back to life! How could it NOT be a sign of deep love and devotion that someone would go through so much trouble just to make sure you’re okay? 

It’s also great because I imagine the local group would have a tendency to not always take Sig seriously because he’s so careless about their purpose, so I’m sure the slag key stunt would also warrant a lot more respect for him from the other iterators. This is another thing I love seeing — both when the character everyone else overlooks finally uses their full power and their peers have to re-evaluate their impression of them, but specifically when men feel inspired to use their full power and skills to help the women they love! I love it because it demonstrates just how powerful and valuable femininity can be, shedding light on a more subtle kind of power, that being power through influence and aura rather than raw strength and stubbornness. Heck, I like to imagine wanting to protect Looks to the Moon and make sure she lasts as long as possible is a major reason why, in my AU, their physical interactions are when Sig and Moon finally begin to act on their love despite it having existed almost since Sig came online. Moon’s collapse would’ve shown both of them directly that she won’t be around forever, and if you ask Sig, someone as beautiful, kind, intelligent, noble, and all-around beloved as Looks to the Moon deserves to at least enjoy her life a little more before she fades (again), even if all the iterators falling apart is inevitable. But, coming back to what I said about nature, the inevitability of the eventual end is what makes the time they have left all the more precious!

And that’s the next part of Sleeping Beauty and fairytale-esque stories I see in Lilypad — there’s also the inevitability of this dynamic, which hits hard with Rain World iterators specifically because their whole purpose is fundamentally opposed to natural phenomena. Solving the Great Problem is, as far as I know, all about trying to escape the natural cycle of life, death, and reincarnation, and likely about escaping all natural cycles as a whole. And the iterators exist specifically to facilitate this rejection on a massive scale. So think about how poetic it would be that even they, seemingly so far detached, so far above these things, STILL fall in love and embrace these forces despite every attempt by the Ancients to prevent them from doing so! It’s made better by the fact that the iterators are machines and, even though they’re very much biomechanical ones (a big example of natural phenomena still manifesting in them despite their attempts to separate from it), one can argue they’re therefore somewhat detached from nature inherently, especially that bond between masculinity and femininity I discussed. So again, the fact it still finds a way to show up in them despite seemingly having much less reason to exist and the iterators themselves likely having much less desire to possess it just re-emphasizes how eternal it is. But once again, are they (and by extent, we the audience) sure that’s such a bad thing? 

Lilypad in an ideal scenario, to me, is of all the Rain World ships the strongest embodiment of “true love conquers all, and that’s not a bad thing after all!”

And it makes me more eager to develop my worm-off-the-string AU because I imagine that’s where their relationship really gets to flourish. Moon and Sig can finally enjoy that physical aspect of romance, and Moon in particular would, by that point, more confidently join him in rejecting the Ancients’ ascensionist philosophy. Not to mention how cute it would be to see them drawing parallels between their relationship and the love the Ancients used to feel for one another long ago, once again supporting true love as a truly timeless phenomenon. And it would branch off to not just embracing their romance that existed for so long but could never fully go anywhere, but learning to enjoy and partake in all the aspects of the world that were denied to them and that they were told to deny for who knows how long! And when it comes to not just for Sig and Moon, but the local group as a whole, what could be more poetic than that?

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Man, a HUGE thank you to anyone who made it to the bottom of all this! To know that anyone bothered to at least consider what I have to say in this fandom is always nice, but with this in particular I greatly appreciate anyone who read it all! And again, PLEASE let me know if you agree with any of this, especially the parts about masculine-feminine teamwork. I'd love to know even one other person in one of my fandoms who's into that as well, and maybe even hear possible additions to it!

Regardless, I've gone on about this for so many words already. I hope you enjoyed the ideas, or at least the art! Thanks again for reading!

[passionartx]

Hi!! Firstly, I LOVE your Tangled AU, so glad to see Tails getting more focus in AU’s. I wondering: Do you have any general Tails related headcannons?

Hiya! 💛✨ Thank you so, so much! And ooo this is such a fun question. Tbh, I have too many, I could write an essay! This account isn’t as popular as my au blog since I’m pretty inactive on it so probably only like 3 people will see this… but I hope those hypothetical 3 people enjoy my inevitable waffle and chaos! <3

Will also use this opportunity to hype up some friends and people who’s work I admire!!!

A few of my favourite Tails Headcannons! :

- I love the idea that him and Sonic were 4 and 11 when they first met.

- Sonic will always be Tails’ big brother first and foremost… however, as Aosth Tails put it: “You’re my mom, you’re my dad and you’re my picket fence!”. Sonic having accidentally become the closest thing Tails has to a parental figure has a hold on my heart and I love how writers like @chaoxfix and my homie @myyla-x portray this in their fics!

- After having first met (and honestly even a few years in) if Sonic ever had to leave Tails alone for a while for whatever reason, maybe to protect him from a particular battle, Tails would deal with hardcore abandonment issues. Poor lil guy would fear Sonic wouldn’t come back, that he didn’t want him around anymore (which is made 10 times worse if you headcannon he was abandoned by his parents). Lil guy wouldn’t know what to do with himself <\3

- Tails reminds Shadow of Maria. Probably my favourite Tails headcannon! Though I guess it’s more of a Shadow headcannon… am I using this as an excuse to talk about it? More likely then you’d think. But ahh, those blue eyes, yellowish fur, sweet gentle childlike wonder, love of life and learning + Ian flynn has confirmed given her upbringing Maria was prob a bit of a science kid. Ah <3 Plus that brings the idea of Sonic and Tails’ dynamic reminding him of his with Maria’s and that makes me want to cry. I actually have a WIP fic about this headcannon but it’s been a wip for like a year… hopefully one day I’ll finish it cause I’m literally obsessed with the idea and want to see it through.

^ Also extra nostalgic about this headcannon cause my friendship with @sh-0-w-1-sh literally started cause they were looking for art ideas and I was like TAILS REMINDING SHADOW OF MARIA!!! And here we are almost a year later!

- For better or for worse he’s picked up a lot of his big bros traits. I’m talking puns, poses, that lil nose rub and foot tapping, occasional cockiness, being self sacrificial, the list goes on. Once he realises this or anyone else especially Sonic points it out, he’d probably be super embarrassed and deny it <3

Speaking of picking up habits…

- While he would definitely be scared by certain situations like this ( << the Starline issue 35 and 36 situation being a good example with other people being at risk and him not really understanding the situation or his role in it ) I think Tails would be pretty desensitised to being kidnapped or hostage situations at this point. He’d probably just find it an inconvenience more then anything or be entertained by the hypothetical villains incompetence. Me and @myyla-x had a conversation about this idea once and… it’s been like 6 months and we’re still talking about it. One day that’ll make sense. We got a lil carried away. Just a lil. Anyway someone get this kid therapy. <3

- An already pretty popular one but I felt the need to mention it cause I relate, but he gets so sucked into projects and his inventions that hours and hours can go by and he just zones out and forgot to eat… well, anything but mints at least.

- Tails is a theatre kid. :D Is this self projection? … maybe. If nobody else gets me @guiltypandas gets me <3 :,)

- I think Tails would be in denial if Sonic died. As smart and logical as that little guy is, given how Sonic has beat the unbeatable, has come back before and seems invisible… yeah. <\3 I think he’d always hold onto the hope that it would only be a matter of time until Sonic comes back… even if this time that wouldn’t be the case… my friend @whitecatindisguise actually wrote an amazing fic about this when we talked about the idea called He’s (Not) Coming Back (which if you haven’t already you should totally check out cause it’s amazing! And a heart breaking! The best kinda fic :,) )

- I think Tails has a heart of gold…but I also think depending on certain circumstances if he hadn’t have met Sonic he could have gone down a much darker path (which I guess ended up being somewhat proven with Nine in Sonic Prime!). Me and @casperangel have screamed about this too many times then I can count and it haunts me.

- Tails is a sweetie, a cutey patooty, like an adorable little house cat… but similarly (and yet again as proven thanks to Prime!) Tails definitely has a feral side. Especially if he hasn’t gotten enough sleep or gets his mints confiscated. @dunkinbublin and @studioboner ‘s accounts are absolute goldmines when it comes to Tails multitasking being an adorable lil guy and a feral lil menace!

- Tails and Tangle have sibling energy! I mean, Tails is basically everyone’s adopted little brother, Knuckles and Amy especially, but I think him and Tangles dynamic isn’t talked about enough and I’m super glad we’ve had some sweet moments with them in the comics! @pocketscribbs is feeding the Tails and Tangle nation fr <3

This was super fun! Thank you so much again for asking and I hope you have an amazing day! And if someone actually read all of this… you’re a trooper :,) <3