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#just keep at it. it took time for some designs i have to be good
literallyjusttoa · 3 days
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I have fully reworked and redesigned my Apollo timeline!! These designs are meant to depict Apollo from 2591 B.C.E all the way to 392 C.E., so a good 2,983 years of life lol. A lot of things have changed from my first and second versions of this timeline (which you can see here and here if you're interested) so I'm just gonna rewrite the whole things here for y'all to read and enjoy! (Also disclaimer as always I am not a mythology expert, and I am taking some liberties with dates and time periods so sorry if anything seems off!)
Baby: 2591 B.C.E
Apollo is born. That's pretty much all that happens here.
Fighting Python/Exile: 2591-2582 B.C.E.
Right after being born, Apollo goes off to fight Python. After this, he is exiled from Olympus for nine years due to his crime of committing murder. During those nine years, he spends most of his time as either a shepherd or a traveling musician, and observes mortals and their ways of life a lot.
Pre-First Punishment: 2582-2300 B.C.E.
After his exile, Apollo is allowed to ascend to Olympus. He takes on a form that is extremely similar to the mortals he's been living amongst for the past nine years. As the youngest member of the Olympian Council, Apollo is slightly naive, but desperate to prove himself to the rest of his family. Myths that occur during this time: 1. Apollo finds and mentors Chiron 2. Artemis and Apollo successfully convince their father to release Prometheus from his punishment. 3. Periphas, a king of Attica and priest of Apollo, was so beloved by his people that they honored him above Zeus. This angered Zeus, and he sword he would strike Periphas down and burn his home to the ground. However, Apollo begged Zeus to spare Periphas' life, and Zeus acquiesced. Instead, Zeus turned Periphas into an eagle, the same eagle that now rests on the top of his sacred sceptre.
Post-First Punishment (Troy): 2300-1250 B.C.E.
Back from his time as a mortal, Apollo is now the patron god of the city of Troy. He is extremely attached to his people, and has taken on a lot of their fashions and customs. He is a bit more reserved on Olympus because of the punishment, but he is still young and sure of himself, and is often one of the most active gods on the council. Myths that occur during this time: 1. Hermes is born. 2. The music duel with Marsyas occurs, and he is flayn. 3. Lots of cities are founded on the west coast of Ionia (Modern day Türkiye), many with myths surrounding Apollo. The city of Miletus was founded and named after a son of Apollo. Klazomenai claimed Apollo as their principal god. The city of Colophon becomes the seat of the Oracle of Apollo Clarius, and one of his sons, named Mopsus, lives there. Erythraea is also connected to Apollo's oracle, as it is the birthplace of Herophile. Once you add Troy to the mix, it seems as if Apollo just did a tour of Ionia and set up a bunch of towns along the way, which I think is pretty cool. 4. The seven against Thebes make their march to restore Polynices, Oedipus' son, to the throne. One of the seven, Amphiaraus, was a seer and favored by Apollo (and sometimes his son!). Amphiaraus was fated to die in battle, but Apollo found multiple ways to stretch out his final moments. He redirected attacks so that Amphiaraus was not harmed, and when the man's charioteer was killed, Apollo took the reins himself. When Amphiaraus finally passed on, Apollo wept over his corpse and let him be consumed by the earth, creating an Oracle at that spot.
Asclepius: 1250-1210 B.C.E.
Asclepius is born and Apollo keeps the same look throughout his entire life! Apollo doesn't have much to do with it, but the Argonauts set sail during this time.
Stealing the bolt/Killing the Cyclops: 1210 B.C.E.
This design only lasts a couple of weeks. In his grief, Apollo loses himself.
Second Punishment 1210 B.C.E
Apollo is given to Admetus as a servant for several months. The punishment doesn't last long, but Apollo's time with Admetus is essential in his journey to heal from Asclepius' death.
Trojan War: 1194-1184 B.C.E.
The Trojan War breaks out less than 20 years after Asclepius' death, bringing ruins and carnage with it. Apollo fulfills his duty as the patron god of the city, and viciously protects Troy from the attacks of other Olympians.
Post-Trojan: 1184-940 B.C.E.
The war was lost, and Troy was sacked. In the time following this, Apollo distances himself from mortals, desperate to escape the pain and grief of the last 70 years. This period of his life ends with the myth of Daphne. Myths that occur during this time: 1. Dionysus is born 2. Apollo saves Hemithea and her sister Parthenos and makes them immortal. 3. Apollo's oldest known temple is built in Thebes.
Daphne and Hyacinthus 940-776 B.C.E.
After the death of Daphne, Apollo is devastated. While he had been avoiding the mortal realm before, now he became increasingly uncomfortable on Olympus. He stayed in the mortal realm often, building up his reputation and setting up his popularity in Ancient Greece proper, which was just breaking out of the Dark Ages. Near the end of this period, he loves and loses Hyacinthus. Myths that occur during this time: 1. The cult of Apollo from Crete brings his worship to Delphi officially, and his temple is built at the site. 2. Apollo's music duel with Pan occurs.
“Main” Apollo 776-500 B.C.E.
Starting with the first Olympic games, This period is defined by glory and worship. Apollo's popularity in Greece increases exponentially, and this is only added to once he takes the reins of the sun chariot. He meddles in mortal affairs often during this time, growing into the persona we see of him today. Myths that occur during this time: 1. Niobe's kids are killed 2. Apollo falls in love with Cyrene, and gives her a city. 3. Tarquin purchases the Sibylline books. Sometime before this, Apollo curses the Sibyl of Cumae. 4. The Pythagorean cult is established, a group that religiously followed the teachings of Pythagoras. Alongside this, they mainly worshiped Apollo at Delphi. They used math to break down music, and believed "the universe as a whole was composed of harmony and numbers". 5. Phorbas, who is either a savage king of Elis or a giant, preys on travelers on the pilgrimage to Delphi. To put a stop to this, Apollo challenges the man to a boxing match, and kills him during the fight. Another Phorbas, this one hailing from Rhodes, is often confounded with this one. Apollo dated the second Phorbas, so I bet this was very confusing for a lot of poor Greeks. 6. The city of Megara fought for independence from Corinth, and claimed Apollo as their patron god.
"Classical" Apollo 500-300 B.C.E.
As Ancient Greece moves into it's classical age, and the height of it's glory, Apollo's worship continues to grow. In the 400's, Pericles and the architects of the Acropolis in Athens used the money held by the Delian league (An allied group of islands in the Cyclades, lead by Delos) to create their temple to Athena, which held the Athena Parthenos. This, alongside many other ways in which Athens attempted to take control of the rest of Greece, caused tension in both the mortal world and Olympus. Apollo begins to see cracks in the foundations of Greece, but can not do much about it at the time. Myths that occur during this time: 1. The Peloponnesian war breaks out. It lasts 27 years, with Sparta claiming victory over Athens in the end. Olympus continues to degrade as Athena and Ares spar. 2. Shortly after this, the Theban War starts. Sparta had won the Peloponnesian war and taken Athens place as the head of Ancient Greece, but many city-states took issue with this. Both Corinth and Thebes waged war against Sparta, with Thebes being victorious in this struggle. Thebes was Dionysus' city, and Corinth, Poseidon's. The Olympian council continues to splinter. 3. Apollo's first temple in Rome is built. The Temple of Apollo Medicus was constructed outside of the religious boundary in Rome, as Apollo was still seen as a foreign deity at this time, and so his worship was not permitted in the city proper.
Late Greece (300-146 B.C.E)
Greece is falling apart at the seams, with civil wars breaking out all over the region. Rome is growing stronger to the west, and eventually takes over Greece completely at the end of this period. Apollo attempts to ignore the signs of failure, keeping up a relaxed, even as the war begins to devour Greece entirely. Myths that occur during this time: 1. Dionysus journeys to India 2. Trophonius and Agamethus are killed.
Fall of Greece: 146-32 B.C.E.
Olympus falls, and will not come back together for a while yet. With each deity lost and unfocused, they all have to find their own way back to their former glory. Apollo is one of the last to return to the council, spending centuries wandering the ruins of Greece, burying his people and mourning the culture that had been lost. It is not until Augustus brings his worship to Rome that Apollo returns to Mount Olympus.
Rome 32 B.C.E.- 140 C.E.
Apollo is now one of the chief gods in Rome. Even though he is at the same level of power and popularity that he had during the height of Greece, it doesn't feel the same. Apollo drifts, going through the motions with very little passion behind it. It takes some time for him to warm up to his new civilization, which leads to:
Late Rome 140 C.E.- 392 C.E.
As Rome continues to grow and prosper, Apollo begins to grow fond of it's people. He interacts with them far more, and begins to once again meddle in their affairs, especially when it comes to the various emperors that ruled the nation. This trend continues until the eventual end of pagan worship in Rome. Myths that occur during this time: 1. Apollo meets, falls in love with, and eventually kills Commodus. 2. The Bacchanalia, which was a private cult festival of the Dionysian cult of Liber that was full of drinking and mingling of all social classes, becomes popular. This festival is obviously associated with Bacchus first and foremost, but there was a common rumour amongst members of the cult that you could meet Apollo at these celebrations.
And that's the whole thing! Hope you all enjoyed, this took a lot of time and research lol.
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tan1shere · 3 days
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I HAVE A..A FUN LITTLE IDEA!
what if sugar mommy billie x sugarbaby reader and like billie loves buying things for reader and loves just buying stuff for her and reader is kinda a bimbo but the public thinks they are polar opposite best friends. not knowing that same night reader put lingerie on that billie bought for her and billie tear it off to eat her out then later fuck her (with strap)
crazy big brain moment when thinking about if i should be a sugar baby or not
A Little Secret
Sugar mommy Billie Eilish x sugar baby fem reader !
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A/n: duhrrr omg I adore this, and GURL you're so very real for that last statement 😫 I really hope I did a good job !!!! And that you like it 😊
Summary: it was all top secret what you and billie truly were. Definitely not just friends.
Warnings: Slight age difference ? (B30,R21) fingerings, eating out, let me know if i missed anything !!
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You could come out and just say that the two of you are dating. But people would soon realize there was something more going on. So. You both had to keep it as secret as possible. Not to mention how obvious the age gap was.
And you managed to, it was especially hard when you wanted to post and flaunt all the pretty gifts she'd get you. All you wanted to do was show how thankful you were of her. You wanted to show her off even if the situation wasn't as normal so you two see it. But you both didn't care, you were insanely happy.
One day you were getting ready to go out to the mall. You open your car door to be met with some roses and a prezzie. With a note from Billie saying.
"I wanna be the reason you slightly tilt your phone away from others when you read it" - Have a good day sweet angel ;)
That was a constant thing she'd do, leaving gifts for you, especially with a cheeky note.
"Hey Bub, look what I got." She says with the widest grin. "Whatcha get." You say sitting up from the couch. She had a black handbag in hand, it was beautiful. She turns it around, smirking as your eyes gleam at the designer symbol. You look at her, looking at that sexy smirk of hers, her eyes. You quite literally pounce at her, kissing her lips. "This is gorgeous Bill!" You beamed as you go to grab it, looking at it. The compartments.
"Exactly like you baby." You blush ever so slightly, as you keep looking at it. You were truly mesmerized. "You can use it for our date night tomorrow." She then says leaning on the couch. "Where are we going!?" You had so much enthusiasm she adored it. It made her feel truly happy. "It's a surprise my love." You sit there and think for a moment. "Alright, but I know wherever it is I'll love it." She smiles more. "I know you will."
Tonight was the night, you were currently in the bathroom lining your lips before you put the soft red lipstick on. She comes up behind you, kissing your neck. "You look so good. Smell great too." You giggle as her breath tickles your skin. "So do you!" She soon looks at you through the mirror. "Kinda don't even want to go for food now, I mean. You look pretty tasty." She bites your neck, causing another giggle to rumble from you. "Bill." - "You'll be calling me something completely different by the time I'm done with you."
A blush spreads widely across your cheeks, even more considering the slight blush you already wore. She then turns you around once your lipstick was applied. Grabbing your hand gently and kissing it. "Howd I get so lucky. Daym." You kiss her cheek. "I'm so grateful for you." You say sweetly. "Ready?" You nod as she takes your hand in hers again, taking you to the car.
The place she took you to was beautiful, the building was dimly lit. Only source of light was coming from a few on the ceiling, and the tall, skinny candles on the tables. You and Billie sit down, tucking your feet under the red velvet table cloth. Billie would always make sure the places she took you to were secluded. Just in case any eyes saw. Of course it could've been just two friends. But with the way you two were both dressed, a blind man would spot that from a mile away.
The evening was great, everything so still, calm and quiet. Soaking up the luxury of the building and the atmosphere. When you were both ready to go she grabs your hand leading you out to the car, like always she opens the door for you. Letting you get in before it closes, and she's making her way to the driver's side.
The ride is peaceful you had the window rolled down enjoy the slight breeze. You then get the idea to stick your head out, maneuvering your body out of the seat belt, having your back slightly out of the car. Having it rest there. Your hands grip the upper part of the car, leaning your head back as the wind blows through your hair. But as you got into the position you're in currently. You were unaware of the fact your dress had ridden up ever so slightly. Giving Billie the most perfect view of your black lace underwear.
Specifically the ones she bought you just recently. You hadn't worn them yet so it cones as a surprise to her eyes. She had to stay focused on driving but God how it hugged your pussy so delicately. She couldn't tear her eyes away. She eventually did, knowing you guys were almost home. The things this woman was about to do. She truly wasn't kidding earlier on.
That's exactly how you ended up here, sprawled on the black fuzzy sheets. The softness of the fabric against you skin only adding to Billies actions. Which currently was teasing. Your whine was heard for maybe the 5th time now. But she needed to savor this. Your taste your scent. Her face was right infront of your cunt, having her nose bump your clit purposefully. Sending you absolutely mental.
"Billie-" Your whiney voice echoed throughout her ears, her mind. Her soul. And all movement stops. Her eyes look straight up at you warningly. Your breath only gets caught in your throat, knowing where you fucked up. But too fucked out to correct. Her figure was still as anything, awaiting the propper words. Until you're whining again. Her head just shakes.
"That's no way to talk to me sweetheart." Her finger taps your thigh gently. "Do you not want this?" She knew damn well you did, but she needed you to say the word, needed you to address her properly.
"What do you call me baby. Go on, be good."
A small whimper is heard. Her finger slowly coming in line with your entrance making you snap out of your dazed state.
"Mommy."
"Louder." Her finger slides into you.
"Mommy!" You screech slightly, having your mouth hang open.
"Good. Girl."
She notices your reaction as she kisses around your pussy. "Don't forget to breathe." She whispers sexily, so slow with her words too. Her own breath fanning against the skin of your swollen cunt.
And that's all it took, for her fingers to move so insanely fast inside you. Her mouth coming to suck on your pussy lips, biting just a tiny bit. Your head flew back again, eventually feeling her soft hands move up your torso, so slowly, every action. Reaching a breast and squeezing. Your head starts to spin, her movements rapid.
Everything was happening in the speed of light as your orgasm approaches quick. Sending your head right back into the pillows as her tongue relentlessly moves against your clit. "Mommy, please let me cum.. please." Your breath was nothing but short finding any thought in your brain to be dead. She hums against you the vibrations not helping with the fact you had to hold on, until she grants you that permission you so helplessly need. "Mommy!" You scream out. "Cum." She growls against you.
Billie was so caught up in it she actually hadn't heard your voice asking. Her hands were gripped tightly around your thighs most definitely creating a mark. The way you smelt was like a drug, addictive. And the taste she could already feel on the tip of her tongue. "Need more." She then moans into you, desperate to taste you properly. You hadn't even overcome the last euphoric feeling.
When you feel her tongue stick deep inside you. Your eyes roll all the way back at this new feeling, her tongue was so warm and wet. Mixing with your previous orgasm. The way you tasted makes her own eyes roll back. If anything she was enjoying this more than you. Not to say you weren't, wriggling with pleasure underneath her. "T-too m-uhg!" A moan gets caught along your words as her finger move to spread your folds open, wide. Her tongue moving in and out of you faster. You were so loose currently and she was adoring it.
Loving how easily her tongue was slipping in. Your hole feeling stretched around her tongue. You begin to shake as the second one is coming, her nose bumping your clit as she moves. Making your brain fuzz over with pure pleasure. You gush into her mouth having her drink you like a thirsty dog, your body giving out in the process. She could care less that you didn't ask. Cuz like an addict she's not stopping tonight. Or ever.
She was going to drink you dry.
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tossawary · 2 days
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I read "Star Wars Jedi: The Dark Side", which is the 5-part comic depicting Qui-Gon Jinn and Xanatos's breakup as a Master-Padawan pair, and the art was... fine? It wasn't good. Every time they drew the female Jedi Master Tahl in an overly sexualized pose like she didn't have any internal organs, I wanted to bite someone, but they did some kind of neat things with color / lighting sometimes? Eh. It was competent enough. It worked.
I didn't really like their composition or posing most of the time, because the camera kept swinging around 180 degrees a lot, trucking in and out, which made it hard to keep track of who was where sometimes. Especially when the character design wasn't... uh... great at differentiating between the characters sometimes? I didn't really like any of the character designs in this comic. They could have been way more distinct. It took me a "wait a fucking second" to realize that Qui-Gon was sparring against both Xanatos and Feemor at the start, because the boys looked so, SO similar, with mostly just a palette swap between them. The character faces could also shift a lot from page to page, issue to issue.
Given how Qui-Gon Jinn looks here, if you had taken this character design for Xanatos and told me it was supposed to be Obi-Wan Kenobi, I would have 100% believed you.
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Which is disappointing? Xanatos looks way, WAY too much like Obi-Wan or Anakin for me. He's like a fusion. And this is a really boring character design compared to some of the other Jedi character designs in "The Clone Wars". It's also hilarious, because I was browsing some books and honestly thinking to myself just last night: "They have GOT to stop making skinny, white brunette girl protagonists in Star Wars, if only because I can't easily tell them all apart with the way they get drawn most of the time."
What I was ABSOLUTELY NOT expecting: Xanatos's dad looks like a buff Lex Luthor and Xanatos's sister, Nason, looks like SPACE OPERA PRINCESS BARBIE. It cracked me up a little. Look!
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So, uh, look, I know that the Telosians characters in the background there are functionally wearing Jedi robes themselves in non-brown colors, but I think that's incredibly boring design again. So, I'm going to imagine that Nason's dressy outfit and hairstyle here is closer to what your average Telosian noble would wear. (Xanatos and Nason's hair colors here could both be natural, but maybe it's fashionable to dye it?) Now that Xanatos has left the Jedi, he's going to need a new fit! A new wardrobe! He can grow his hair out!
I presume that Xanatos is going to be wearing the villainous black robes later on in the "Jedi Apprentice" series, of course! It's classic like the little black dress! But I am nevertheless now not going to be able to shake the image of young Obi-Wan Kenobi being tormented by a Dark Jedi Xanatos, evil overlord of the Offworld Mining corporation, who looks and dresses like Space Opera Princess Barbie. Revenge can be achieved in hot pink.
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sysig · 1 year
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Working on some designs for one of my oldest OCs, “Cure” (Patreon)
I also managed to track down some of her initial concept sketches from 2018 - why 2018 considering I called her one of my oldest OCs?
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Well, her design has always been rather elusive, even more so since she spent so much time in my head without being brought to paper - even these sketches make mention of it!
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Pretty sure she got “Cure” in 2018 too - starting to take form!
#Doodles#Original#The quotes are very intentional lol#As stated under the cut I started designing her in 2018 but she's existed since around 2007-ish? Latest would be 2010#Part of her having such a range of uncertainty is that it took me many many years to consider putting her to paper!#She might've existed in 2007 but there's no record! She might've existed in 2010 but no record! I don't think I even wrote about her#She was a completely mentally-extant OC for many many many years#Partially because at the time I had just started drawing and knew I wouldn't be able to put down what was in my head to physicality#And then the longer she stayed in my head the more she became that kind of mental kaleidoscope ever-shifting impossible-to-draw design#But screw that! I have a few years of doodling under my belt now! Even if I can't get her quite right I can at least make an attempt!#It's especially funny because outwardly she is meant to be a pretty generic teddy bear lol - not Exactly but more like the vibe of one#Round and plush and innocent - innocuous#And really she's not like Nefarious or anything lol - she's not what she seems but she also is?? It's hard to explain lol#A lot of it does still come down to subtleties so it actually is still hard to capture but it'll only keep getting harder the longer I wait!#So at least pinning down Some things about her design that I'm happy with and can refer to helps the me down the line haha#The first one is actually pretty close! It's always a coin flip on whether the first one is a disaster or nails it haha#The heart ears and straight body are pretty good tho I gotta say#And honestly it was the little lace-ribbon bracelet that was the deciding factor for me to try drawing her again haha#I had an idea I thought was silly but to do it I needed a design to work with!#Getting there getting there - every little bit closer
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wilwheaton · 1 month
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Hey man, I could use a few talking points to help convince a friend that Musk is horrible. I'm reading 'Think Again' by Adam Grant (good read btws) and he says to help convince people to come to your viewpoint that it can be good to have 2 or 3 strong points instead of 10 mixed points. The counter argument I get from people about Musk being good is that he did spacex and tesla, and without him we'd be decades behind. Maybe, but I don't have good ammo. Please help as I get too angry tobe critical
Well, listen, the fascism, the transphobia, the chaos, and the unwavering support for autocrats all over the planet really ought to be enough to outweigh anything else, if you ask me. It sounds like you know some people who got excited about the companies he threw money at, and they are having a tough time updating their feelings due to current events. Or maybe they share his values and don't want to admit that.
But I'll try to offer some simple facts.
He did not do engineering with Tesla or SpaceX or even PayPal. He is a fraud. He walked into these existing businesses, where people had done actual work and engineering, threw some of his Apartheid money at them, and took credit for their work. He claims, over and over again, to be a founder of these companies, and that's just straight up a lie that is easily disproved.
He literally did nothing except throw money at people and take credit for their work. Look at every Tesla up to the (chokes back laughter) Cybertruck. Those Teslas look like cars, because they were designed by engineers. Look at the Cybertruck. When you stop laughing at what a joke it is, know this: that's what happens when Elon Musk is in charge. It's like a ten year-old with some crayons drew it on a menu at Denny's.
All of the things his weird fans claim he made possible, are things that would have happened, and were in the process of happening, without him. He literally did nothing to advance the technologies or engineering. In fact, SpaceX whistleblowers have told reporters how they had to keep Musk occupied with bullshit, so they could do the real work without him fucking it up all the time with his incompetence.
But even if he were telling the truth, even if the myth were fact, it would not outweigh the damage, the pain, the chaos, and the suffering he has inflicted on millions and millions of people, all over the world with his lies, his spread of misinformation, and his incitement of angry incels.
Also, don't forget, when Ukraine was trying to defend itself, he turned off Starlink access when they could have decisively ended Russia's aggression. A lot of people have suffered and died as a direct consequence of that action, which he took to support his buddy and fellow autocrat, Vladimir Putin.
That's more information than I think your friends will be willing to hear. Studies indicate that people who are heavily invested in the myth of a person will fight hard to hold onto the myth, and reject truth and facts, because it's so jarring to them. Musk has built a cult of personality, and maybe your friends are stuck to it.
I'd gently encourage your friends to consider one key fact: he has lied about his entire origin story, he has lied about his contributions to Tesla and SpaceX. He lies about everything, except when he posts on Twitter like a 12 year-old edgelord, because that's who he is, emotionally.
Finally, and this is for you, specifically: if your friends insist on supporting a fascist, a racist, a misogynist, or a bigot, because they think rockets are cool, maybe it's time to look for new friends.
I hope this helps.
And fuck Elon Musk.
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tasteleeknow · 3 months
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RASPBERRY PIE
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minors dni. minho x fem!reader. 4k words content warnings. pet names (sweetheart, angel). mutual pining. sweet/shy reader. perv!minho. corruption kink. food play. dirty talk. oral (m rec.). soft!dom minho.
you bake your quiet neighbour a warm raspberry pie.
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He's pretty sure he's utterly fucked from the jump – he finds himself attached so early he almost convinces himself you're a witch in disguise; that maybe he'd moved in next door to a creature designed to trap men like him. A siren, maybe. The sweetness was an act; all the soft tones and doe eyed looks were just a trick to lure him down beneath the waves.
He was determined not to drown.
And then you show up with the pie, a little flushed from working around a hot oven. It'd been 6 months – 6 months since he'd moved in, and as he opens the door to find you in an apron with little pink stains, a feeling of approaching and inevitable doom settles in his chest. Finally, you'd come to take him.
"Hi," you greet with a shy smile. "My friend brought me over far too many berries yesterday so..." you look down at the golden pie, carefully decorated and clearly still warm, "...well I made this. For you."
If he was wise, he'd politely decline, close the door, and never be faced with the reality of the sweet little siren in his apartment, offerings of temptation and all.
"For me?"
You look up at him through long lashes. "Do you like pie?" you ask. It's the way you say it, like if he doesn't you might genuinely hurt inside – like with a simple rejection of your offering, he had the ability to snuff out some little candle alight inside you.
"I like pie," he says.
Then you smile. Like it's the best news you've heard in weeks. "Oh, good."
He steps aside, his body betraying him. The siren enters with her warm pie and soft smiles – and he knows, unequivocally, that he's fucked.
He keeps his distance as you comfortably navigate to the kitchen to find a place for your offering. The apartments were all pretty much identical as far as he knew. The two on this floor, his and yours, were mirrored. He imagines that just on the other side of your joining wall, you took the same steps he did he each morning, in parallel.
You fiddle a little with the delicately placed raspberries atop the pie as he approaches from the other side of the island. You wear a tiny silver ring on one finger, much like one he wears on his own. He'd spotted it before, during short interactions in the elevator. He suppresses the urge to comment on it now, to ask if it meant anything to you.
He doesn't need to know you. He couldn't afford to. He was finding himself attached enough without it.
Then you pluck one little berry up in your fingers and bring it to your lips. He watches you. He watches you and he knows that he's walked willingly into a trap.
"Sweet?"
You look up. "Hm? Oh." You nod. "They're lovely. My friend gets them from this farm near his parent's place."
Friend. His. He sits in the feeling that stirs in his chest for a quiet moment. It's a rotten feeling. He doesn't like it at all.
"He brings them often?" he finds himself asking.
"Not at all. He just happened to come by after being there for a weekend. He doesn't go there often, I don't think." Your accompanying smile is almost enough to snuff out the rotten feeling before he has time to digest it. Almost.
Then he considers that this might not be the only pie. You may have made this other guy a pie just like it... maybe it was bigger, maybe you'd used the sweetest berries in his pie.
He kicks a cat toy across the floor as he stuffs his hands in his pockets, a little embarrassed by his own internal monologue. Witchcraft, turning his brain into mush.
"You have a pretty view."
He looks up to find you brushing your hands down your apron and rounding the kitchen island. You seem drawn to his floor to ceiling windows, a little moth to the light.
He follows.
"Mine isn't nearly this nice," you continue once he's standing beside you. "All I get is the construction site and a concrete wall." Then you close your eyes, head tilting back a little to let the sun's afternoon rays bathe your face. "Don't get the sun like this, either," you add, a little dreaminess leaking into your already sweet voice.
Oh, he's fucked.
"You like it?"
You blink up at him, eyes adjusting to the light again. "Hm?"
"I mean if you really like it, you're welcome over anytime, whenever." He wonders if this is part of your spell work, making him say stupid shit. Maybe he'd be better off if you were casting spells on him, if he had a reasonable excuse for being so fucking braindead. "For the sun," he adds, like it makes it better.
A small breath of laughter slips from your pretty lips. "It does get a little gloomy over there, on my side of the wall."
It was hard to imagine anywhere you were being gloomy.
"I should go," you continue after a short moment of comfortable silence, each of you basking in the sunlight. He really should appreciate that more, he notes. Then he considers the fact he'll associate this little patch of warmth with you each time he attempts such a thing.
"Sure," he says, following you from a safe distance to the door. "Thank you. For the pie."
"You're welcome."
Everything is fine. He's alone and he survived the encounter. Then he's faced with the pie. He stares down at it, warm and made with careful hands.
He plucks a berry off the top. He thinks of the berry you'd eaten in the same way.
Everything is fine.
He hesitates as he goes to pluck a second berry. Instead of lifting one from the crust, he presses the tip of his finger a little against the surface. Warm. He breaks through. His finger is coated in syrupy, red filling when he pulls it free. It's sugary sweet when he sucks it clean.
Shame. That's what he feels next. Because sweet gestures of neighbourly kindness should not trigger the kind of thoughts creeping their way into his head.
He wonders if the little siren's cunt is as warm and sweet as the little offering she brought him. He considers doing the right thing, having a cold shower and sitting in the morning sun with a slice of pie.
But apparently, today, and the day before, and every day for the past 6 months, Minho was not wise and he wasn't very good. Because he let the thoughts of his sweet little neighbour stew for months, and this is where it'd led him.
He stands there, one palm pressed flat on the kitchen counter, the other buried in his sweatpants, and he thinks of the sweet little siren with her sweet offerings, and he imagines sinking his hard cock into her warm, sweet cunt.
It's hard not to deflate entirely as you close your apartment door behind you. You'd expected too much from a single pie, you suppose. It would entirely out of character for him to ask you to stay for a slice, to take the opportunity to finally have a conversation longer than an elevator ride.
You sigh, dropping your forehead against the cool surface of the door. It helps a little. You're overheated, both from the cooking, the warm sun, and the heat that had bubbled up from the inside as the pretty - yet frustratingly reserved - man next door had watched you move about his space.
You hadn't lied, his apartment was far nicer than yours. You could imagine basking in that patch of sun any chance you had. You wonder if he does the same, if he sits there after a shower, chest bare and hair still a little damp - letting the sun warm his skin.
You leap back as a knock on the door jolts you out of your daydream. Sighing, you press your palm to your forehead - head thoroughly rattled - as you pull the door open.
Oh.
"Hi," Minho says casually. He's a little flushed compared to when you'd left him minutes earlier. He shouldn't be. There were no stairs between your apartments.
"Hello, again."
He glances over your shoulder, getting a clear view of your empty living room. "It is darker in here," he says, still casual.
"Oh. Mm, yeah. I miss your sun already."
His eyes fix back on you. Then he pulls his lip between his teeth slightly. He has something to say... something he won't say.
"Why'd you make me the pie?" he asks.
You blink. "I... had a lot of berries from-"
"Your friend. I know."
You're officially confused. His eyes drop down your dirty apron before returning to your face. "You only made one?"
"Is it bad?" you question.
He pushes some hair away from his eyes. "No," he says quickly. "No, it's... nice." His eyes sweep down your body again. "Sweet," he adds.
"I only made one."
His eyes jump to yours before a brief look of confusion flashes across his pretty face. He seems to remember his own question soon enough. "You didn't want to give it to," he gestures vaguely behind you, "your friend?"
"No," you answer simply. This entire interaction was drifting into territory you weren't sure you were ready for. If his questions got any more interrogative, you might find yourself wondering how to answer them in any other way than 'Oh, the pie? I baked it for you because I have a huge, embarrassing crush on you, even if you've seemed intent on not knowing me.'
"He doesn't like pies?" he asks.
You can't help following the path of his fingers as he fiddles with the chain hanging around his neck. They brush his skin as he strokes the metal back and forth.
"I... don't understand what you're asking me," you say as you pull your eyes from his neck. "Is something wrong?"
He readjusts his position in the doorway, pressing his hand to the frame and freeing you from the constant distraction at his neck. He leans over you a little like this.
God, he's pretty.
"You a witch?" he asks.
"I'm sorry?"
"Did you put something in it?" he continues, still leaning well and truly into your space. "Something to make me-" he cuts himself off, brows furrowing.
"Are you asking me if I poisoned the pie?"
His voice drops, like someone might overhear, despite you both being entirely alone on this floor of the building. "I'm trying to figure out why all I can fucking think about is how you might taste on my tongue."
Your head rushes, all the heat returning. Then your eyes drop to the floor.
"Look at me, sweetheart."
You don't. His shoes are safer. He was flirting. More than flirting. He wanted you.
His fingers guide your chin up, it doesn't take much, a nudge. "I'll leave if you want," he says. "Never mention it again. Just tell me what you want."
"Did you like it?" you find yourself whispering. "The pie."
His lips crack into a lopsided smile. It's tiny, but it's a smile. "Loved it, sweetheart. Sent me to heaven."
"Would you... would you like to come in?"
He nods.
You go to turn, to let him follow you. But then, instead, you take his hand and lead him in. He's warm. You imagine all the sun he gets over there must've absorbed deep inside him over time. Maybe he could leave some of it behind here for you - that heat might leak from him if your kept him here long enough.
He follows where you lead, his hand still grasped firmly in your own. You're not sure why you lead him to the sofa. You aren't sure what you're expecting next. It's why you find yourself simply standing beside the piece of furniture waiting for him to say something – to let go of your hand maybe.
Instead, his thumb begins brushing over your skin. He's quiet, seemingly unhurried to break the tension building.
"I asked my friend to bring the berries," you confess quietly, eyes focused on your interwined hands. Confessions were always so much easier with your eyes downwards. "I wanted to make something for you... specifically."
"Why's that?"
His thumb continues against your skin. He doesn't make you look at him like he had before.
"Because I... wanted you to - I wanted your attention."
You can hear the smile in his voice when he speaks, "So you baked me a pie?"
"I'm good at baking."
"You are," he agrees. Then his other hand reaches for the hem of your apron. He rubs it between his fingers a little. "Messy though."
You look down at the patterned splotches, pink on white. Then he releases your hand, taking that warmth with him. He only allows you a few seconds to miss it though. That same hand snakes around the back of your neck, skin on skin.
Your eyes are drawn to his without thought.
"Are you always messy?" he asks.
You nod, chewing on your lip a little.
He seems pleased with your answer, a small hum escaping his throat. "I like messy," he says, sounding a little far away. "Do you like messy, sweetheart?"
Your eyes drop to his lips, a little stained from your pie filling. "Yeah," you breathe.
He tugs you towards him before your have time to suck in another breath, attaching himself to you like he's starved. You can't help gasping a little into his mouth as he presses you into him with a hand to your back.
Holy fuck. Surely you'd wake up slumped against the door any second. Maybe someone hadn't just knocked on the door. Someone had opened it and knocked you out and you were dreaming about your pretty, brown eyed neighbour.
He groans a little before taking your lip between his teeth. No. No you were definitely awake. "So sweet," he mumbles as he releases you, his breath ghosting over your wet lips. "Can I have you?"
It's hard to keep his head on straight as you look up at him with those big sweet eyes. Can I have you? His stomach rolls as he waits for you to say yes. Please say yes. 6 months of denial and he was desperate.
You'd made that sweet little gift for him. Just for him. His little siren.
Then you're pressing against his chest, forcing him down onto the sofa. He looks up at you, at the stained apron and the hair sticking a little to your temples from the time spent making his pie.
Then you lower yourself to your knees.
Oh, fuck.
Your hands only have to brush his legs for him to get the hint. He spreads them, allowing you to shuffle closer to him – settling between his thighs.
Then you look up at him. "Can I taste you?"
He's keeping you. His head drops back as he collects himself. Then, "You want my cock in your pretty little mouth?"
You nod, fingers pressing lightly into his thighs.
Minutes ago he was fucking himself into his own hand imagining how warm you'd feel around him. Now you're between his legs, lips wet, asking to taste him.
He's careful to keep his eyes on you as he frees himself, intent on catching each and every reaction you make – he's keeping it all.
You're a little hesitant as you reach for him. "You're good, sweetheart," he encourages. "Touch me however you like."
It seems to be all you need. In the next second your soft little hand is wrapping around his length. His head drops back again as his eyes close.
It's a mistake, closing his eyes. He's not prepared when your wet lips press to the tip of him, soft and warm. He groans, hand automatically making a home in your hair. He needs grounding. He needs –
Your lips wrap around him. His little siren was sucking his dick into her sweet little mouth. His hips jump a little. "Oh fuck, that's right. You're all warm for me."
You hum a little around him. Then, you take him deeper. Hot little tongue dancing over his sensitive skin.
"Good girl," he groans. "Take it for me, sweetheart." He resists the urge to spill himself right here, right against your tongue. "Hm? You taking it for me?"
His hips jump again as he fucks himself into your hot mouth, wet and sweet and just for him. You'd wanted his attention. You'd come for him. Just him.
"You mine?" he gasps as he forces his head up to look at you. "You gonna let me fuck you?"
Your lips pull off him slowly, a little suction at his tip sending his head spinning. "Do you want to?" you ask, lips swollen.
He leans forward enough to begin lifting you, encouraging you to climb into his lap. Each hand rests at your hips as you settle yourself there, his leaking cock pressed between you.
"So bad," he answers.
You shift a little in his lap. He imagines you squirming on his cock.
"Me too," you confess. It's quiet, like it's bad.
Sweet siren.
"Sit on me," he instructs. "Want you to bounce on me, sweetheart."
You eyelashes flutter as you blink a few times, processing, deciding. Then you shift, reaching up under your dress and tugging your underwear down.
Something in his stomach stirs when he realises you were leaving the rest on, apron and all.
You grasp him in a soft hand, guiding him beneath your clothes – then you sink down. He's transfixed by the little sound that escapes your lips as you take him in. That, and the way your cunt feels squeezing around him. He might have to keep you for fucking ever.
Hot and sweet and wet and better than he'd imagined as he'd fucked himself against his counter minutes earlier. Better than any of the scenarios he'd dreamed up over the months he'd spent thinking of his sweet little neighbour.
You fall into him with a sigh once you're full seated, cock buried deep.
"Doing so well," he says, hand squeezing a little at the back of your neck.
You mumble something into his neck in response. He can't quite make it out, but he swears, it almost sounds like a tiny 'thank you'. He has to keep himself from filling you at the thought of it.
His hands return to your hips. You must take it as a prompt because you lean back from him enough to begin lifting yourself off him and dropping again.
It's slow at first, a little swivel in your hips, grinding yourself down into him.
The apron prevents him from seeing how his cock looks slipping in and out of your little cunt. He hasn't even seen it, that sweet little hole between your legs.
Instead, he feels.
It makes sense that a man as pretty as him would have the prettiest cock. One you wanted to taste. One that would have you slippery and ready to take him.
There's this vein that throbs in his neck each time he drops his head back with a groan. His neck. God you want to lean forward and bite into it. But he might not be into that. Next time, you think. Or the time after that.
God you hope there's a next time.
His fingers dig into your hip as you sink all the way down again. It feels a little like he's resisting, holding back.
"Minho?"
His head lifts, eyes a little glassy as he blinks at you. "Hm?"
"You can fuck me," you tell him. "However you want. I want you to fuck me."
He blinks again. His fingers dig into your skin harder.
"Tell me when you wanna stop. Just tell me," he says.
You nod. Then he's leaning forward and tugging you against him. His lips press to your skin just at the crook of your neck.
Then you're falling. He falls over you. Then he lets go. He presses you into the couch cushions as he drives into you, hair falling over his face. He's even pretty like this, with parted lips and brows slightly furrowed.
Your skin slaps together as he fucks himself into you. Messy, he'd said. He liked messy.
That's what he gets as he continutes to drive into you, as you begin to drip around him, as he fucks that wetness into you and over your thighs and then the sounds it all makes.... messy.
"Wanna fill you," he mutters. "God, I wanna fill you so bad. Wanna fuck my cum into your sweet cunt."
You squeeze your eyes shut as he continues, overwhelmed.
"You can take it for me, angel. I know you can. Sweet little thing made just for me. I knew it." He's muttering so much you're hardly sure he even knows what he's saying. His fingers are almost painful as they dig into your skin, like he can't hold onto you hard enough.
"Fill me," you gasp.
He eyes lift from where you join together to lock on your face. "Yeah?" he asks, a slight croakiness breaking his words up a little. "I'll make you all warm and sticky inside, hm? Just like your pretty little pie? That sound nice?"
Oh god. There was something inside you, something made for this – for him. You knew this was going to ruin you forever.
"Please."
He falls over you, then he bites. He bites into you as he floods you full.
2K notes · View notes
supercutszns · 6 months
Text
twin beads | luke castellan
wc + pairing: 6.7k, luke x daughter of poseidon! reader
synopsis: you’ve been unclaimed for five years. you’ve loved your best friend even longer. the sea used to be your greatest solace, but after percy jackson comes to camp, it’s your cruelest reminder. (based on this ask!)
warnings: best friends to lovers <3, percy/reader sibling dynamic, fluff and angst then fluff again, hurt/comfort, shameless making out. sorry this one is so long but besties to lovers is my lifeblood!!! i get so attached!! designated song is true blue by boygenius:)
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i. you said you wanted to feel alive, so we went to the beach
“Ahoy, sailor!”
The familiar voice ricochets across the lake. You turn, leaving glimmers of sun behind you as you stare back at the docks of Camp Half-Blood. An orange blob with a curly mop of hair is beckoning you. You laugh, wave back at him, and plunge into the water. It cools your face after staying above the surface for so long—you just love watching the light reflected off the waves. But the second you’re under the water, the soreness in your muscles, the heat on your face, the exhaustion from treading for so long, are washed away from you. You swim with precision and vigor, relishing the feel of the river cupping your limbs to spur you forward. Not to sound lame, but you fucking love swimming. 
But maybe not as much as you love your best friend. 
He laughs when your head pops out of the water at the edge of the dock. “Wow, that took you longer than usual,” he teases, brown eyes glinting in the dawn. “You getting sloppy?”
You huff, splashing some water up at him but it barely touches him. “I’m tired, you moron. I’ve been out there for an hour.”
Luke leans down at the edge of the dock, offering you a hand. His face is bemused when you latch onto him, and with a good flex of his bicep he pulls you up. “All right, c’mon,” he grunts.
All your energy evaporates the second your body’s out of the water. You’re far too lazy to be graceful, so you sprawl out onto the dock like a dying fish, letting the sun kiss every inch of you. “Eww,” Luke giggles overtop you, prodding your side with the tip of his shoe. “Get up, you mermaid.” 
“Make me, you mailman.”
Your arm drapes over your eyes, and you sigh. There really is nothing better than these moments; droplets of water soaking into your skin after an early morning swim, your best friend right beside you. 
He keeps nudging you with your shoe, over and over until your ribs start to hurt. You groan, swatting him away and stretching out your limbs with a groan, letting them pop and relax, until you blearily make your way to your feet. 
“You forgot your towel again,” Luke condones, but like always, he’s brought one for you. 
He goes through a practiced routine of drying you off, wrapping the towel around your shoulders and down your arms, across your back, scrunching the water out of your hair. It doesn’t matter how cold the water gets—this part always makes you warm. 
“Thanks,” you smile as he hands the towel off to you. “Anything interesting happen this morning, O Captain, my captain?”
“Not yet, sailor, sir,” he replies in a stuffy, gruff voice the two of you have joked around with since you were kids. “Just grabbing you for breakfast.”
You giggle, following him past the docks and to the shore. Once you’ve grabbed all your stuff, you both fall in stride and head towards your cabin, your twin five-beaded necklaces hanging over your shirts. 
Five years ago, when you got to Camp for the first time, you were as big a loser as any. You were bad at everything—everything—and had no real friends until you accidentally whacked some other friendless loser in the head with an oar when you were about to go canoeing. Luke got mad at you, but his little sister Annabeth was even more furious. He offered to be your partner for the day anyway. You’ve been partners ever since. 
Over the years the two of you have grown in status at the camp, more so Luke than you. He’s an excellent cabin leader and by far the greatest swordsman in camp. You, still unclaimed, have found solace in giving younger campers swimming lessons and wading out there on your own till you get sunstroke. (It’s happened a few times. Luke is never pleased, but also refuses to let the Apollo campers take care of you. He nurses you back to health with ice cream and horrible gossip.)
But every night you return to the Hermes cabin with a hollowness in your chest. One bunk emptied, then immediately filled. You’ve had the same one for five years, and the only condolence is that it’s right next to Luke’s, and sometimes you spend hours at night making faces at each other till your laughter endangers other people’s sleep. 
Yes, you love the water at Camp Half-Blood, but you love Luke most. 
Rumours of a new kid are rustling at camp. You haven’t seen him, but you’re just dying to get in on the gossip. Apparently he slayed a minotaur. Apparently Annabeth has seen him. And apparently he’s unclaimed. You hate to admit it, but this is the most exciting news you’ve heard in weeks!
Your afternoon is spent giving some swimming lessons and taking some Demeter campers canoeing. (Some of them freak out on the water. so it’s a nice challenge to untangle the sea plants they get hooked around their boat.) It feels like you’ve been here forever. A break is in desperate demand right now. 
You have no idea what kind of God heard your prayers, but your fellow counsellor has an unimpressed look on her face when she taps you on the shoulder and goes, “Your friend’s calling you.” 
The way she says it is almost degrading. You turn to look back at the shore to see the dark curly hair you’d spot a mile away. Next to him is a much shorter orange blob, shuffling awkwardly as Luke attempts to flag you down. Score!
You shoot an apologetic look at her. “Uh … I’ll be right back.” You wince, already disposing of your baggy orange shirt (it’s Luke’s) with your bathing suit underneath. 
“No you won’t,” she says dryly. “Just go.”
You flash a smile you hope is loaded with charm, and you’re off into water. As you swim, the only thing on your mind is I really really hope that’s the new kid, and I wonder what Luke’s face looks like right now. (He’s probably grinning, eyes crinkled at the sides as he tries to follow your figure beneath the waves. Maybe he’s doing that cute thing where his head tilts to the side as he watches.) 
When you’re close enough to the shore, you come out of the water, wringing your hair. “Hey, guys!” It’s Luke, Chris, and some blonde kid you’re sure is the new one. “What’s up?”
Luke is about to say something, then he frowns. “Where’s my shirt?”
“Left it in the canoe, I’ll go back for it later,” you reply, limply gesturing behind you. 
“And where’s your towel?”  
“Okay, I did bring one this time!” You counter. “I just gave it to a little Ares kid ‘cause she forgot hers.” 
Luke clicks his tongue, shakes his head at you, but of course he’s got one in his hands so what’s the worry? He’s endearingly amused when you take the cloth and dry yourself off, and the new boy, having watched this all raptly, widens his eyes and drawls, “Ohhhh, so you’re his gi—”
“This is Camp’s resident mermaid, Percy.” Chris butts in, adding your name almost as an afterthought. 
After you fasten your towel around you, you’re put off by Percy’s scrutinizing stare. “Look, it’s been a pretty weird day so I cannot tell if you’re joking or not.” 
“I’m not a mermaid,” you snipe, throwing Chris a dirty look. “People just call me that because I give swimming lessons here.” You stick your hand out to the blonde boy. “Nice to meet you, Percy.” 
He gives a polite nod, a little awkward. “Right back at ya.” The two of you study each other as you shake. He’s young, probably about twelve, a smatter of freckles across his face. His eyes look like the lake. Something itches in the back of your brain. There’s a moment where the shake is suspended, neither of you have let go but are no longer actively holding on, and you see it in his face that he’s studying you, too. Huh.
The conversation continues as normal, but you almost start to feel queasy for a second. “We’re trying to find something Percy’s good at,” Luke says with a pat on Percy’s shoulder. “You got any ideas?”
“Yes, please, because I really would like to have a word with my father,” Percy clips. “Is Glory, like, purely a skill thing or can I get some if I tie someone else’s shoes or something?” 
“I don’t have shoes,” you add unhelpfully. 
“It’s okay, dude,” Luke squeezes Percy’s shoulder. “Camp is great, no matter where you end up.”
Even if you’re like her, he means without saying. Even if you don’t end up anywhere. 
You meet Luke’s eyes. This is a kid that wants so badly to meet his father, to ease the ache inside him. You are the absolute worst person for this. One of the longest current unclaimed streaks and your ache remains. To Percy, you’re the biggest example of a failure there is, and Luke is only just now realizing it. 
“Maybe try the infirmary?” You pipe, shuffling back and forth on the sand. “You might have a knack for medicine.”
“Doubt it,” Percy swallows. “But yeah, okay. Who’s your parent, again?”
Percy can’t see it, but Luke and Chris send you a shifty look and all you can do is widen your eyes to be like, Help! Don’t make me crush his dreams! I don’t want another kid to hate me! 
You swallow. No matter how fast you think, you cannot come to a logical sentence. “I, uh—”
Just then, in another stroke of luck (wow, that’s two more than usual) an Athena counsellor that looks insanely disgruntled is running towards you. “Stolls put spiders in our cabin again,” he heaves once at a stop. “Please get rid of them.”
“Can’t you just squash ‘em?” Percy asks. 
“Not the spiders, the twins.” 
Chris is already nodding, but Luke looks to you first. He’s anxious, disappointed. You wish you could smooth out the creases in his brow with your thumb. “Don’t worry,” you stretch out a smile. “I’ll chill with Percy. It won’t take you guys too long.”
He’s still hesitant. You’re not sure this is a good call either. But he reaches out, quickly squeezes your shoulder and mutters, “Thank you.” Your skin feels gooey when he touches it. 
His signature roguish smile returns as he looks back to Percy. The side of his face is shadowed by the sun so well it makes you jealous. “Don’t give her a hard time, eh?” He reprimands playfully. 
Percy smiles a little. “I’ll try not to.”
You are once again reminded just how easy it is to love Luke. How effortlessly he moves into your heart. It happened to you after you slapped him with an oar. It’s already happening to Percy.
You’re sure he won’t like you nearly half as much. 
After Luke and Chris leave, Percy resigns to staring out at the campers canoeing on the lake. Maybe now is a good time to admit you’re not good with kids. Luke has tried many times to make you his welcome partner, but you can’t take to the role nearly as well. You’re perpetually antsy. And sweaty. 
“So, what cabin are you a part of that lets you do this all day?” Percy asks, squinting against the sun. 
Your heart gets heavy. With a sigh, you sit yourself down, and Percy soon follows. “Hermes, actually,” you say as casually as you can. 
Percy goes pale as a sheet. “Uh, what?”
“I’m unclaimed,” you clarify. “I don’t … I don’t have a parent.”
There’s always a pitiful pause whenever a camper figures that out. This one is somehow … clunkier. “Oh,” Percy says. “Oh. Okay, that makes sense. For a second I thought—phew.” Then his eyes trail down to the thread hooked around your fingers, the five beads you run your thumb over. “How long have you been here?”
“Five long, blissful years,” you hum dryly. 
Water ripples over pebbles on the shore. Every new camper’s ambition is eroded by the truth you represent. Percy’s no different. His brows furrow and his face falls. “And you’ve never been claimed?” He asks, and you can feel the noxious mix of pity, confusion and despair laced beneath it. 
You shake your head, watching some Demeter kids splashing each other’s canoes with their oars. “Nope. But it’s not so bad. I like my cabin, you know? I like my life. Doesn’t really matter who your parents are anyway, I think. You do the same activities as everyone else, just on different teams.”
“But doesn’t it make you mad?”
“It used to,” you shrug, “But not anymore. It’s just …” You sigh, rolling a bead against your thumb. “If I’m unclaimed, I’m unclaimed. That’s the way it is. You can’t force the Gods to do anything.” 
“That’s what Luke said,” Percy remarks, almost bitterly. 
“I’m a rare case though, Percy,” you half-lie to him, nudging him a bit with your shoulder. “You’ll get claimed. It’s your first day. And until then you’re kind of free to be whatever. You don’t have to fit into anything, which is kinda nice, and you can screw around as much as you want and nobody can really get mad at you ‘cause you’re new.” A smile rises on your face. “And I heard you killed a minotaur, so you’ve already got some cool points.”
His face screws up in a grimace, and it makes you laugh. “Oh joy, cool points. Can’t live without those.”
Okay, maybe you’re not bad with kids. Maybe you’re just bad with boring kids. Because this is going decent, right? 
“What if I don’t get claimed, though?” Percy asks after a moment, a vulnerable note eclipsing him. It resonates inside your chest. You pause for a moment, heaving a loaded breath. 
“Do you fart a lot in your sleep?”
His melancholy pauses. He looks at you like you’ve grown another head. “Uh … what? No? I think?”
“Then you can take the bunk above mine if you want. It’s empty now,” you say. “And if you’re never claimed you can come swimming with me, and we can find seashells to put under Luke’s pillow every night until he starts thinking they’ve always been there.”
Percy blinks. “Do you have any friends?”
“Yes, and I’m going to torture him until I die. Cabin eleven is oodles of fun, Percy, you’ll see!”
He looks a little horrified. “Luke said I was going to like you,” he mutters. “I … am not sure if he’s right.”
Oh, well. You’ll take it. 
ii. you can't help but become the sun
You can’t sleep, and Luke knows it. His eyes burn into the side of your face as you stare up at your bunk. You sneak him a look. He smiles ruefully. Sweeping his arm up from beneath his covers, a makeshift tent is formed next to him. He nods to you. Before you know it, you’ve abandoned your own bed, taking a single step until you skirt into the pocket of his mattress Luke has carved for you. He lets the sheets fall, cocooning you with him the way he always does. 
You’ve been sharing beds on occasion for years. One of you gets cold, has a nightmare, or wants to talk until your mind fades out, the only solution is a place next to each other. Whispers against cheeks, giggles muffled into pillows, necklaces knocking together. You used to be further apart. Now you can’t remember the last time Luke hasn’t latched onto you the second you’re within reach. It warms you a little more each time. 
When your head hits his pillow, the two of you just stare at each other for a moment, lips pursed in amusement. His face is so wildly nostalgic to you—five years seems like too short a time to have known him. His eyes are pitch-dark and soft with exhaustion, but you can still pick out the trademark Hermes mirth glimmering through. You sometimes forget his scar, probably because you know he wants you to forget it. He’d kill you for thinking this, but you kind of like the way it hugs the curve of his cheek, bunches up when his dimple appears. It makes you sad. It makes you happy. It makes you love him. 
“Percy likes you,” he whispers, opening himself up so your chin brushes his shoulder. “That’s a first.”
He’s only wearing a tank top to sleep, so his warmth seeps through his skin when you tap him on the chest. “Shut up!” You hiss back, tapering into a giggle. “Has he picked up on anything yet?”
Luke bites the inside of his cheek, regretfully shaking his head. “Nope. But all that skill stuff is kinda arbitrary anyways. He’s still hung up on kleos, though, so … that’ll come in handy for Capture the Flag.”
“Ah, yes. Using a child’s misguided need for fulfilment as a weapon. A camp classic.” 
“Well someone’s gotta be useful for Capture the Flag in this cabin and it sure as hell isn’t you, mermaid,” he barbs back. 
Your jaw drops in mock offense and you squeeze a hand around his shoulder to shake him. “I will put you in a headlock right now, Luke, I’ll break your arm—”
“Be quiet!” He giggles as you attempt to wrangle yourself on top of him. “I’ll be nice to you, I’ll be nice, stop!” You get absolutely nowhere before the bed creaks and Luke shoves you back down. Your pulse rattles through your mouth as you laugh silently. “You’re the worst,” he mutters in your ear, raising the hairs on your neck.
“Well Percy likes me, so,” you turn your nose to the sky like a haughty old lady. 
“Percy’s a funnier, less annoying version of you,” he pokes your side. “That’s how I knew you’d get along, you weirdo.”
The momentary adrenaline this conversation has brought you is mellowing. “Hey, I’m very—very funny,” you mumble through a yawn. 
Luke laughs quietly. “Sure you are.”
He pulls you back to him, arm slung around the dip of your waist. When you make no protest, he seals you against his shoulder again. It’s started to feel a little different, him holding you like this. There’s an uncertainty your body faces about how to respond. His thumb runs over your spine and you decide to relax into him, pressing your face into the crook of his neck. Your chin knocks against his collarbone and you have the urge to curl yourself against his chest, just to feel him breathe. 
“Get some sleep, sailor,” he murmurs, fingers brushing through the roots of your hair. You don’t think he realizes he’s doing it. Your cheeks warm, and you bury yourself even further into the space against his shoulder and his pillow. Gods, there’s something wrong with you, isn’t there?
“Will do, soldier.” The campy voice you do is half hearted at best as you find yourself absorbed in the closest thing to a full home you’ll ever get. In this sleepy hollow with bedsheets and a boy, there is acceptance. 
Well, mostly. You think you dream about Luke brushing a kiss along your hairline in your last bit of consciousness. You think you wish it was real. You think you want him to do it again.   
iii. when you don't know who you are, you fuck around and find out
The last time your cabin lost a game of Capture the Flag, you’d still been taller than Luke. That’s how long your winning streak has felt. There’s no reason you foresee that changing today. Even when Annabeth drags Percy along with her on whatever surely precarious quest to victory she’s created. It’s unlike her, to bring a newbie along. It’s concerning. 
“He’s fine,” Luke drawls to you when your face has been tense for twenty minutes. “Annabeth’s got a plan.” He’s a little winded after clearing out some Ares kids with Chris. You aren’t much use when it comes to weapons—your friends take the lead as you wait from a distance, ready for backup. Thank the Gods they didn’t need it this time. You’re content to just watch, but whenever Luke grins after getting another kid to surrender, veins in his arms raised like rivers on a map, you get a little distracted and you’re not sure why. 
You just huff back at him, totally normal when he wipes a sheen of sweat off his jaw. “Annabeth’s gonna use him as cannon fodder,” you mutter back, and Luke hits your arm with an appalled grin. 
Annabeth did, in fact, have a plan. So you won. Obviously. 
You’re still doubtful Percy wasn’t cannon fodder, though, with how beat up he looks on the shoreline when the rest of your team flocks to the stolen flag to claim victory. He’s slumped down on the rocky shore, a few equally beaten Ares kids straggling away from him. 
“So I was right, huh?” Luke hums in your ear, pulling your eyes to him. 
He’s revelling in newfound glory, and damn it, you get confused when you look at him when he’s like this. You’re not sure when it happened but you want to tear your heart out of its chest because of how sick it makes you. Some of his curls are stuck to his forehead with sweat, his hair suffering a serious case of helmet-head. But it’s the pride oozing off him, the infectious happiness laced through his smile, that makes you fond of him in a way you’re not sure you should be. He’s beloved for a reason—he looks almost prophetic after winning a match, and he knows it. A glaring difference between the gangly boy you met all those summers ago. If you weren’t his best friend, you’d probably be one of his many admirers, watching his teammates fawn over his talent and wishing you were beside him. 
But you are beside him. And you’re his friend. Not an admirer. So everything’s fine. 
“You wouldn’t be saying that if we lost,” you retort, knocking your chestplate against his. It’s meant to be a friendly nudge, but Luke leans into it until you swear you feel his heart beating through the metal. 
He’s grown into his smile, less boyish and more wry. “You know I never lose, sailor.” 
You want to reply, but his eyes are startlingly pretty in the sunlight. That’s normal. Whatever. A heat rises in the apples of your cheeks so you scoff lightly and turn away as soon as possible. You feel Luke’s gaze following as you turn attention elsewhere. Your sternum feels fluttery.
Percy catches your attention again. Gods, he looks beat. He’s talking to Annabeth as she helps him up, and you see the gnarly scrape marring his cheek. You should probably check on him, right? 
You’re halfway to the kids when Annabeth shoves Percy backwards into the water. Like, shoves. 
“Annabeth!” You’re scowling at her the same way she scowled at you when you first hit Luke with that oar, rushing over to help Percy. 
“What is wrong with you?” Percy sputters out lying in the lake, but you’re ankles-deep in the water before you know it. He’s glaring daggers at Annabeth, but she looks relatively unimpressed. What happened during this game? 
“Thanks,” Percy mutters as you help him up. 
You say something to shrug it off but you can’t remember what, because your eyes are drawn to the scrape on his cheek. You have to blink a few times to get it, but you’re pretty sure it’s dissolving. Vanishing off his skin. “What the hell?”
Everyone on the shore is watching him now, trying to memorize his injuries before they wash away. Percy’s staring down at himself like he’s just been body-swapped. “I don’t understand.” 
You’ve never seen anything like this before. The strangest feeling fuels you—your bones feel firmer somehow, like the blood inside your body has weight to it. Like something is happening. A fear pierces your gut. 
Annabeth’s eyes have raised, and so have Percy’s. Your mouth goes dry. Right above him is the symbol of a trident, radiating so blue it washes out the sky itself. 
The claiming symbol of Poseidon. 
“Your dad’s calling,” Annabeth says, a smile itching the corners of her mouth. 
Percy looks like he’s going to pass out. You probably do too. “Told you you’d get claimed,” you manage to squeeze the words through the knot in your chest. 
You’re smiling until Percy looks at you, then looks up. His face goes white as a sheet. Or, as white as it can bathed in a pale blue glow. “Uh…” He blinks slowly, and your stomach twists. “I think she was talking to you.”
When you look up and see an identical trident looming over your head, you know something’s wrong. It’s made worse when Chiron rings out your and Percy’s name, branding you as children of Poseidon. 
Poseidon. 
You have a father. And he’s known you all this time. Your ears hollow out like a rush of water in a cavern.
Luke is the first to kneel. The rest of the camp follows. You watch as the entire camp basks in the glory of newcomer Percy Jackson, so quickly claimed by one of the most powerful Gods of Olympus. And you, who has waited five years to earn even a shred of his favour. 
This thing you’ve wanted for so long is suddenly the greatest insult in the world. Your best friend can’t even meet your eyes. 
iv. i remember who i am when i'm with you
You stare at Percy as he unpacks his things. Waiting to see traces of yourself in his face, traces of your father. Anything that could give you an inkling of what he looks like. Of what you look like. Of how this happened in the first place. 
It’s a futile search. Percy’s blue eyes, his freckles, the bridge of his nose, they’re all … nothing. Half of you is half of him, but there’s no indication of which parts. The cabin is cold. You’re not going to sleep well without Luke nearby. You’re not going to sleep well ever again. 
You feel nothing but strife, your throat closing in every time you take even a second to think. You don’t want Percy to see you cry. So you do what you always do. 
This has to be in the running for most overwhelming day of all time ever. Even when submerged in your favourite place on earth, you can’t get away from your dad. Your dumb stupid dad that has made the things you love and has ruined your life. 
You swim hard, and you loathe how good it feels. At least you know why now, but that doesn’t do much to ease you. When you pop up again, the sun has started to sink into the sea. And Gods, you have to give your dad credit. The landscape is so gorgeous you almost forget how long he’s ignored you. 
You wonder if this is the last time you’ll find solace in the lake. If eventually, it’ll be nothing but an extension of your father’s neglect. 
The water ripples around you. You frown, barely having noticed it when someone taps your shoulder. You turn. “Luke?” You swallow, but why are you surprised? 
He’s panting, cheeks splotched with sun as he treads water, droplets worming down his face from his soaking curls. “Been looking for you,” he puffs, “Percy’s worried. Called you from the—from the thingie but don’t think you heard me.”
You assume he means the docks, but you don’t say anything as he takes a deep, grounding breath. “You’ve been out here for hours. Hours. For a second I thought you drowned.”
“Now we know that can’t fucking happen,” you mutter a touch too bitterly, staring down at your legs warped beneath the water. 
Luke’s silent as he watches you. “…Have you been crying?”
When you don’t reply, Luke tugs on your wrist. “C’mon, sailor, let’s go.”
“Not tired,” you say, frozen by the hot tears brimming on your lashes. 
“I’m not leaving you out here. Come on.” He frowns when you yank your hand away as he tries pulling you again. “You’re gonna get heatstroke.”
“I’m fine.”
“No, you’re not.”
He reaches for you again and you try to reject it for a moment, but he’s stronger than you, and he loves you better than even the water could. The second he has you close your resolve falters. He holds you against his shoulder, knees knocking against yours as you tread. 
“It’s okay,” he croons when you involuntarily start to cry. For a Poseidon kid, you can’t seem to control your waterworks. “It’s okay, I know.”
His hand cards through your scalp and you relish in the warmth of his bare skin on your cheek. He smells like comfort. You cling to it with all you have, until your nails start to dig into his skin and your eyesight blurs. 
“Come back with me and I’ll dry you off, okay?” He kisses the top of your head, the way you dreamed it last night. “I’ll take care of it.”
You’re not sure which it he’s referring to, because it could honestly apply to anything. When you both set off for shore, you’re so distracted by your own misery that Luke’s actually able to keep up with you. He’s up on the dock before you so he can pull you out. 
The second you’re out of the water you feel like you’ve been gutted with a lead pipe. All the energy it gave you leaves, and you realize just how right Luke was about spending too much time out there. You can’t feel your legs. 
You buckle over almost instantly, but Luke holds you before you can even think of falling. “I’ve got you,” he assures, guiding you down to sit on the dock. Your eyes are too weak to even admire the sunset. Luke drapes a towel over your shoulders, rubbing it over your arms, a welcome familiarity. He takes his time, wringing your hair and drying your back as you gaze blankly ahead. There’s a tenderness to it now. Luke’s ruthless when it comes to a lot of things. When it comes to how he loves, too. But there’s nothing demanding here. He lets your tears fall in silence, undisturbed, the touch of his hands through the cloth a silent promise. 
When you’re fairly dry, he fetches something then quickly comes back. “Here.”
It’s his shirt. You only notice you’ve been shivering as he pulls it over your head, lets you fill in the sleeves, gently gathers your hair back. “Thanks,” you say. His fingertips brush your neck as he hooks them around your necklace to rest it over the shirt. You think he does it to remind you you’re still the same. You’ve had five years together. It doesn’t have to end now. 
“Why did it take him so long?” You struggle to say, eyes glossed like sea glass. “Why—why now? What did I do?”
Luke puts an arm around you. “I don’t know,” he mumbles honestly. 
You sink into his warmth like a wave meets the shore. “Five years, Luke. He ignored me for five years. And he takes Percy right—right away.” It’s hard not to choke between every word. “I just thought I’d never get claimed, and I was fine with that, and now I’m … this!”
Its hard to tell if the dampness of your cheeks are the remnants of saltwater or your tears. “I don’t want this,” you sniffle. “I waited so long … and I just don’t want it.”
Luke rubs your shoulder, lips pursed against your head. He murmurs into your hair, “I know, sailor. It’ll be okay. Promise.”
His voice is reserved. You look up at him. His jaw is resolute, his eyes red-rimmed in a way you hadn’t noticed before. “You’re upset too,” you comment quietly. 
He laughs listlessly. “Yeah, of course I am. I’m losing my favourite cabin mate.”
You sniff and try to smile. “Percy?”
He rolls his eyes fondly, and it feels like all you want. He squeezes your shoulders tight and you long desperately to be closer. “I just don’t know what I did wrong,” you whisper, pressing your cheek into him. “Why didn’t he see me until he saw Percy? Am I just … unremarkable or something?”
“No, no. Absolutely not—c’mere.” Luke loops an arm around your waist and manoeuvres you into his arms, cradled on his lap so you can bury your face in his neck. You can’t stop fucking crying, but his patience for you is infinite. “You are by far the most remarkable person I know.” He seals you against his chest, scratching your scalp the way he knows you like. “None of this is you, okay? Your dad’s an idiot. You are—you’re everything. They’re all mindless up there, they don’t know how to love you. They don’t deserve to.”
An edge seeps into his timbre that gives you pause. You feel weak, discarded. It sounds like he’s talking about a different person. But he’s right. He has to be, because he knows you better than you know yourself.
Luke keeps going. You peek at his face when he speaks. Stubborn as ever. “He doesn’t have any fucking right to you. If he wanted that he should’ve claimed you when you got here. You have a life. You … you had a home. And now just because he’s got another kid he kills two birds with one stone? He pretends like this is some Godly intervention? Like he didn’t ignore you the whole time you’ve been here because he couldn’t stand how much you didn’t need him? How much better you are? You’re my …” He struggles, brows furrowed, the sun melting in his eyes. “You’re my best friend, and we’re supposed to be together. He’s not allowed to take that from you.”
Your heart stirs. “Sounds like you’re jealous,” you try to tease.
Luke heaves a sigh, his muscles rippling against your chest. You’re suddenly aware of the fact that he’s got no shirt on. And that he’s pressed against you in a way that makes you question if you should be this close. Beads of water cling to the divots in his skin, and you linger a little too long on one nestled in his collarbone. You swear you think this every time he goes swimming with you: when did he get so … hot? And every time you think it, you want to gouge your heart out with a spoon. 
“Can you blame me?” A melancholy smile plays on his face. “I liked having you all to myself.”
Tears spring to your eyes all over again. “I liked that too.”
It’s a whisper that sends you forward, Luke bringing his forehead to your own, and you want to live in the warmth that coils through you. His nose catches against yours when he laughs, but he doesn’t move. You take a moment to savour it. You think he does too.
He wipes a tear off your face as you say, “I’m still yours.”
“Yeah?” Luke hums a bit, his hand sliding up your waist in a most unfriendly manner. “How?” 
You catch the glimmer in his eyes, that plucky smile he’s had since fourteen. Something shifts.
“What are you asking me, Luke?” You can’t fight the smile. 
“What do you want me to ask you?”
“I dunno, what do you want me to want you to ask you—”
“My Gods, you’re a pain in the ass.”
He groans, throws his head back, and kisses you like you aren’t the most annoying person in the world. 
It’s so cliché, but for a brief moment your strife is well worth it. You yank him closer before he pulls away. It’s a little unsure, the two of you so used to toeing the line, but soon you’ve given in and your hands are in his hair, mouths parting, and it’s messy and wanting and everything you need. 
Luke slips his hands beneath the hem of your shirt, palms flattening against your sun-beaten skin. It feels so good, better because the shirt is already his, a whine scratching your throat as he moves up so his thumbs graze the skin beneath the tie in your bathing suit. 
“Oh, sailor,” he coos against your mouth. You want to retaliate but it’s lost when he squeezes your thighs, warming you in all the right places. It’s hard to understand this is even happening—it feels like you’re underwater, a blissful fuzziness growing in your head entirely at his mercy. 
He razes kisses down your still-damp neck, catching pearls of water on his tongue. You cling to his shoulders, raking your hands down his back just so you can feel more of him. Luke’s dropped down to your collarbone at this point, tugging the neck of your shirt down as his teeth graze the bone. “You’re my best friend,” he mutters over your skin. “Still mine. Always mine.”
“Mmhm,” is all you can say back, the husk in his voice making your eyes screw shut. He teases a spot so sensitive you groan and laugh at the same time. The regret is immediate, but you feel a chuckle pass his lips, too. “Luke,” you purse a smile. He dots kisses back up your neck until you start returning the favour. 
You kiss his jaw, a few spots on his neck, feeling the flex of his muscle all around you as he squeezes the fat of your hips. You finally sweep up the water in the hollow of his collarbones, and his grunt of your name makes you, frankly, delirious. 
He brings your mouth back to his, skin sticking to each other. It’s harder to kiss as fervently when you’re both giggling against each other’s tongues, running fingers along the planes of each other’s bodies trying to see which places feel new and which are known from memory. It’s a fifty-fifty split, and you love it. 
Somewhere along the way he peeled off your shirt because it was clinging in places you knew he wanted, but now you’re panting and giggling into his hair, his nose pressed into your neck, both of you melded together with salt and sun. “You really know how to cheer a girl up, mailman,” you grin. 
His lips fix to your skin. “Really? You’re still gonna call me that right now?”
“Yeah.”
“Like it better when you call me captain,” he murmurs, nose grazing along your pulse. 
You swallow, “That doesn’t work unless we’re doing the whole sailor-ship bit.”
“We’re always doing the sailor-ship bit.”
“I seriously can’t believe I’m in love with you.”
He sighs warmly at the words. “You have no idea how much I’ve been dying for you to say that. Even though I knew you would.”
You roll your eyes as he presses his forehead to yours, and you’re more glad than ever that his face is the one you love so much. It’s a pretty great face. 
“You’re gonna be okay,” he says tenderly. “You’re too incredible for Poseidon. You’re worth more than that.”
He still looks gorgeous blurred by your tears. You listen to the beat of his heart and the waves rolling. “More than any water anywhere?”
“More than the fucking Styx, sailor. I’ll promise you that.”
That night, Luke stays with you and Percy in your cold chapel of a cabin. You exchange stories until Percy falls asleep in his bed, curled up like a sea otter. “He’s a drooler,” Luke notes fondly, eyes flicking to yours. “Like you.”
You shove his chest playfully until he wraps his arms around you and anchors you to sleep, like every night before. This time, as you drift off, he kisses your forehead again. Once because he loves you, and twice to make sure you know it’s real. 
luke taglist: @sunniskyies @apollos-calliope @lillycore @sunny747 @m00ng4z3r @pabkeh @thaliagracesgf @theadventuresofanartist @bonnie-tz @ash-williamsss @sucker-4-angst @kitkat-writes-stuff @too-deviant
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d0rothydraws · 4 days
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After a night out things get heated and Sylus can't control himself, revealing a new side of him.
content: f!reader, monster cock, porn without plot, public sex, multiple orgasms, Inappropriate use of Evol, after care, just a lot of smut idk
w/c: 3.7k
Ao3: Here
a/n: This took so long i'm so sorry works been wearing me out so much I haven't been able to post much. I hope this satisfies all the monster fuckers that wanted this from my one post.
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Tonight had been.. A lot. You and Sylus were at a dinner banquet. Apparently a very important man was hosting the event and Sylus was looking for information about something. You didn’t really know or ask. You don’t really ask many questions these days. Sylus had custom fit you one of the most beautiful dresses you had ever seen. It was made of the softest silk, the neckline was low yet tasteful, showing enough to catch some looks but not enough to feel exposed. The skirt had a high slit that went to the top of your hip, exposing your leg once in a while. As you walked, the long skirt looked like it was flowing around you like water. You wore matching blood red heels that looked like they were carved out of ruby. The light catching them in a mesmerizing way. Your hair was done in a way where it framed your face, pulled in an updo that bounced slightly every time you took a step. And on your neck was a crow pendant embedded with a ruby. 
To say it simply, you looked beautiful. Elegant. 
And Sylus couldn’t keep his eyes, or hands, off of you.
As you walked, his hand was draped around your waist, hand on your hip. Or his hand was on your lower back, or when you sat his hand was on your thigh, fingers drawing patterns that sent a chill down your spine. He looked at you from the corner of his eye, meeting yours once in a while. You almost could feel the hot breath that left him when this happened, exhaling every time as if he was trying to control himself. 
You couldn’t lie, it felt good to see him like this. It wasn’t like he didn’t know what you would look like in the dress, it was custom fit, custom designed just for you. He had seen it on you before. And yet when anyone looked over at you, giving you just the smallest bit of attention, you felt his hand tighten, body pulled closer. Your hip flush against his. You could feel heat radiating from his body.
Part of you wondered if he was going to end up dragging you into the bathroom. A couple times you thought he was considering it, especially as his hand moved to the inside of your thigh halfway through the banquet. His rough fingers trailed higher, brushing against your panties. He leaned over whispering in your ear, his voice thick as honey. 
“You look delicious.” His words sent a shiver through your body as your hand tightened on the fork you were holding. You looked around, everyone was talking about something you didn't understand. Nobody knew what was happening under the table. And in a bold decision, you parted your thighs just a little bit more. Moving your hips to press against the fingers that were tracing your folds through your panties. You heard his breath catch, his hand pausing for only a second, Sylus’ lips returned to your ear. 
“Try not to squirm too much, kitten. I’m not sure how much longer I can hold back.” He said as his fingers dipped under the fabric, calloused fingers grazing the sensitive skin. You took a bite of food to hide a moan, your face red as a shaky breath left your lipsticked lips. You wanted nothing more than to ride his hand. To throw all caution to the wind and thrust your hips against his fingers until you were clenching and twitching around him, begging for more. 
And suddenly, his hand was gone. Your disappointment must have been audible because he chuckled, bringing his finger to his lips. Swiftly he liked them as if he was licking off a stray drop of sauce that fell onto his hand. You caught the look in his eye as his right eye started glowing slightly. Glancing down you seen the red and black tendrils of his power snake its way around your leg. It felt warm and you tried to not shiver or make a sound as you felt the weight of it move between your thighs. Your panties pushed to the side and as a reflex you tried to close your legs. The tendrils pushed your legs back open gently, like a pair of hands and as you felt the warmth against your core, you couldn’t stop yourself from reaching a hand out, putting it on Sylus’ thigh, nails pressing into the thick meat. 
It felt as if it was Sylus himself between your thighs, just a different version. The feeling was like a warm tongue licking at you, lapping up every bit that you provided as you tried your damndest to not moan, or at least, too loud. You never felt anything like this before. You almost forgot you were in public until you heard his voice in your ear again. 
“Quiet, kitten. You’ll get caught.” His voice was low, strained. A rush of adrenaline flooded your veins as you choked back a whine. The energy pushed inside you, curling exactly where you needed it. Licking your sensitive, throbbing clit. Your hand on his thigh tightened, nails digging in more making him give a low groan deep in his throat. 
“Sylus-” You said, trying to be quiet, but the sound was choked out. Your breathing was heavy, face red and eyes were starting to get glossy. “I can’t. P-please, I-” You let out a choked gasp, louder than you wanted as your orgasm rushed through you. You clenched around the thick mass of energy inside you as you panted, blushing so dark that you probably matched your dress. A few people turned to look, eyebrows raised in curiosity as they saw your out of breath expression. 
“We will be taking our leave now.” Sylus said, the energy around your lower half dissolved as if it never happened. Your legs felt numb as you tried to steady your thoughts, your heart pounding and blood rushing. Your body moved on its own as Sylus stood, as if being willed by him to follow. You had no complaints about this, your anticipation was as high as ever to get him alone. His hand was firm on your lower back giving you much needed support as you walked to the car.
The drive home was quiet but the tension was thick. His body was tense as he pulled into the driveway and before you could even open the door, the red-black tendrils of energy embraced you again. Your body was moved by a force you couldn’t fight even if you wanted to. A thrill ran through your body. He had never used his Evol on you like this before. 
You were placed in the middle of the bedroom, Sylus following you through the door as his eye glowed. His hands in his pockets as he looked at you with a hunger you never saw from him before. You let out a slow breath, feeling the energy dissolve into the air as he towered over you, a hand moving to your chin. 
“Sweetie, you almost made me lose control, looking like that in public. It’s dangerous, you know.” He said, fingers trailing your skin as his other hand trailed down the curve of your waist, admiring the figure hidden under the dress he picked out. 
“I guess you could say I had a good stylist.” You said with a half laugh, he chuckled, a low sound that warmed your core. His hand moved behind your neck, fingers making quick work of the tie that held the light dress on your body. With a flick of his fingers, the fabric fell to the floor around your feet. Your hand moved to his chest, trailing up to wrap around his tie. 
The tension broke as you pulled him down into a rough kiss, one of his hands curled in your hair while the other moved to your hip. He guided you as you felt the bed hit the back of your legs, one of his legs coming to rest on the edge of the bed as you fell back. His kiss was hot, hungry. Teeth bite your lip, tongues pushing against each other as your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him closer. He took your hand from his tie, his fingers wrapping around yours as he pinned it above your head. 
“Do you trust me?” He breathed in your ear as he pulled back, panting softly. You could feel the hardness of his cock against your thigh, straining his pants. You arched your hips up to apply some pressure, making him groan. You knew there was only one answer to his question.  
“Yes.” 
The grip on your hand tightened as it was pushed harder into the soft mattress, his other hand moved to your face bringing your lips to his as he kissed you. Slow, deep. Different from the kiss you just had. You felt hot breath on your cheek as he breathed out through his nose asif he was holding his breath waiting for your answer. In turn, the kiss took your own breath away as you pulled back, your lips slightly red from how he bit your lip as you pulled back. His fingers traced the outline of your lower lip as his eyes stared down at you, red orbs swirling.
“Darling,” His voice made a low sound as his eyes looked into you. A serious look that brought you back to reality for a moment. He didn’t give you that look often.  “I’m not sure if I'll be able to hold back tonight.” Sylus sounded just as breathless as you felt. “If you need me to stop at any point, tell me. Promise me.” He said, the hand on your cheek gently tracing the skin under his fingers. “I don’t want to hurt you.” Your heart fluttered as you looked up at him. Your cheeks flushed as you took a deep breath, processing his words. 
You two had a safe word. It was well established when you started becoming physical. There was one time you did have to use it, not because of anything horrible but you weren’t in the right mindset for what he had planned that night. So instead of putting yourself through it, knowing that he wouldn’t want you to do that, you said it. He stopped instantly followed by a warm bath, snacks, and your favorite show. 
“I promise.” You breathed, looking into his eyes as he stared down at you. There was something that you couldn’t tell, that you never had seen before. “I trust you, Sylus.” You whispered, bringing your free hand to pull him into a slow kiss that matched the last one. You put your whole soul into that kiss, as if hoping he would understand just how much you cared for him. How without a thought you would put your life in his hands, knowing damn well that he would do the same for you. 
As the kiss continued, the energy began to change. Once soft and gentle was becoming something more. His lips were hot, hungry as he straddled your hips. His clothed cock grinded against your thigh making your body twitch and shiver with need. His hand on your face became rougher, holding your jaw firmly as his kiss devoured you. He pulled away with a soft growl, licking his lips. 
“You’re like a drug to me.” Sylus said as his hands moved to pull at his clothes, buttons unfastening to reveal his chest. Your mouth started to salivate at the sight.  Your hands moved up to help him, guiding your palms over the surface of his skin. Sylus let out a low sound, watching you as you made your way to his belt. He didn’t stop you as you undid the fasten. The sound of metal was loud in the room as it fell from its hold as Sylus pulled the belt and tossed it on the floor. 
His lips were on you again. Hungry, hot. You felt your breath be taken from your lungs as your hands were pinned above your head. His tongue pushing into your mouth, devouring you whole. He pulled away with a low growl, looking down at you, his eyes dark and his lips red from the kiss and the stain of your lipstick. 
“Roll over kitten.” Sylus purred as he let go of your hands and instantly you followed his direction. You felt the slick of your arousal as you moved, making your need even more known to you as you turned. Now with your ass to him, arched as your cheek laid against the pillow. You felt his fingers wrap under the lace of your panties, pulling them down to your knees. You looked over to him, your view obstructed but still managed to match his eyes. 
No words needed to be said, both of you needed the same exact thing and he wasn’t in a mood to tease you, at least not at the moment. His hands worked on his pants, letting them fall to the floor as he stood off of the bed, his boxers following. Your mouth watered, moaning into the pillow at the sight of him. Hard, dripping. His hand wrapped around his cock, pumping slowly as his thumb brushed against the angry red head. You felt your pussy clench as if trying to draw him in. He was beautiful. He didn’t even look human. No human could be this beautiful. 
As he climbed back onto the bed he wasted no time in positioning himself. He kissed your back, one hand on himself to adjust while the other was on your ass, sinking into the soft flesh. He kissed your back again before speaking into your ear, his voice was rough, deep.
“Remember our promise?” He whispered, his voice strained. Reminding you that you would use the safe word if you needed. You felt his tip slide against you, eager for the final confirmation. You nodded into the pillow, shifting your hips as you grinded against him. He groaned, the hand on your ass getting rougher as he held you still. 
He began to push into you slowly. You felt your body stretch to accommodate him, your moan loud as your body felt like electricity was pulsing through your veins at the feeling. Fuck he always felt so good. So thick, so heavy inside you. Your eyes rolled as he bottomed out his hands gently rubbing your back, your ass, the back of your thighs. He waited a moment, his breath strained as he tried to contain himself. But as he started to thrust it was a lost cause. 
You cried out moaning as he pulled out, thrusting back in. Your body shook as you felt him fuck you, his thrusts started to get faster the louder you moaned as if the sound of your cries edged him on, which was very much the case. You tightened around him, gasping as you felt his hand coming to rub against your clit, his rough thumb brushing the sensitive skin. 
“You sound so beautiful darling. Let me hear how you sound as you cum on my cock.” He purred in his ear. His voice sounded.. Different. Deeper somehow, more primal, needy. It drove you wild. You moaned gasping as you moved your body against him, fucking yourself on his cock while he pressed his thumb against you. You felt the sensation take over your body as Sylus hit that spot inside you that made you cry out and see stars. Your orgasm flowed through you as your pussy fluttered and clenched around him, pushing him to the brink as he filled you with his hot cum. 
You caught your breath, your forehead sticky with sweat as you felt your body tremble from the release. Sylus on the other hand, was still inside you. Cock hard, twitching as if he didn't just cum inside you. His hands gripped your hips, his lips moving to your back as he kissed your sweaty skin. You could hear his heart pounding, as fast as ever. 
“I’m not done with you yet, sweetie. That was a warmup.” He said as he started to thrust again, slowly at first. Your body shivered and moaned at the sudden movement, sensitive from your orgasm as he stated to fuck you. You felt his cum inside you, being fucked deeper. You blushed gasping, your head spinning with pleasure. 
As he fucked you, you swore his hands on your hips felt larger. His nails were digging into your skin as if they were talons. Not cutting into you, but more noticeable than before. You gasped, your mouth opening against the pillow, eyes widening as you whimpered. 
“Sylus!” You cried out as you felt your pussy stretch more than before. You felt his cock, which was already big and thick, get even bigger. The girth stretching you out more to the point your legs were shaking. You felt him hit places inside you you didn't even know existed. You felt tears fall from your eyes, sure it hurt a little but god you never felt so good in your life. You felt his tongue lick up your spine, long, thick. His mouth moved to your ear, sharp teeth nipping the skin. You could hear your heart pound. What was he? How did he become… like this? 
“Wow kitten, you took me so well.” Sylus purred. He wasn’t even moving yet and you were a whimpering crying mess. “I bet you love being stretched out on my cock like this, don’t you? I’m not even moving and it feels like you’re about to cum again.” He teased as you felt a rough, larger than normal thumb brush against your clit. “Careful, if you do, you might boost my ego. I could get addicted to this.”
Your head spun as you whimpered and moaned. You couldn’t see him. Even if you tried to turn, he was pressed against your back. But he wasn’t wrong. You were close. So agonizingly close that when he touched his thumb to that damn spot between your legs it was instant. You cried out, clenching around him and he hissed at the feeling. His cock twitched inside you as he felt you cum on his cock from nothing more than just being inside you. Filling you up completely. Stretching you to your limit to the point you weren’t sure if you’d be able to walk later. 
“Good girl. You’ve been such a good girl for me, haven’t you?” Sylus purred into your ear as he started to move. Your eyes widened as you cried out, hands clawing at the bedsheets as you felt how massive he truly had become now that he started moving. Your legs shook as you struggled to keep yourself propped up on your knees. His hands came to grab your hips as you whimpered and moaned mindlessly into the pillow. His hands felt so big, so strong. He had always been strong but this was different, otherworldly. He held you exactly how and where he wanted you as he began to fuck into you. Your body bounced and shook as if you were a ragdoll. 
“That’s it, sweetie, just like that. You’re a perfect little slut for me, aren’t you. Taking anything I give you, no matter how big. You’ll stretch your tight little pussy for me, won’t you?” Sylus growled in your ear and you gasped, eyes rolling back at his words. You couldn’t control the sounds coming from your lips, or the drool that spilled out onto the silk pillowcase. You couldn’t stop the loud needy whimper at the things he said to you. His nails pressed into your soft flesh as he continued to ravish you. 
His thrusts started to get unsteady as he panted, one hand groping your ass as the other curled into your hair, turning your face for him to kiss you. His long tongue forced its way into your mouth, his teeth were sharper but it felt more like fangs now that you could feel him better. You opened your eyes for a second, catching a glimpse to see that he looked normal. As he pulled away and opened his eyes though, you noticed how both eyes were glowing red. It looked like orbs of the red mist of his Evol flowing inside his eyes. It was beautiful. If you weren’t getting your brains fucked out you would have more time to appreciate it. 
The hand returned between your thighs, drawing circles against your sensitive nub. As he felt you twitch and whimper, his hand continued until he pulled another orgasm out of you. Your scream was muffled by the pillow but the sound made him take in a sharp breath. Even when he was like this, the sounds you made affected him more than you could ever know. You felt as his cock twitched, his thrusted uneven before he came inside you. The feeling was different than before. It was thicker and it felt like there was more than usual. You gasped, moaning as you felt him thrust a few more times, the thick globs of cum running down your thighs. 
Slowly, you felt him begin to pull out. Your body was too weak and tired to turn around and look at him but that was the last thing on your mind right now. You didn’t care what form he took. He was still yours. And you were still his. You felt him shift around you, his arms pulling you into his chest as he kissed your head. The smell of him flooded your senses as a sense of calm you never felt before came over you. 
His hands were so gentle as he carefully checked for marks and scratches. You felt a warm cloth on your thighs. A cold bottle of water pressed to your lips. You opened your mouth and the bottle tipped so gently. His hands were still on you, gently touching and caressing you. As you opened your eyes gently you saw the oh so familiar black and red mist surrounding you. Cleaning you, giving you water. You felt a kiss on the top of your head as Sylus pulled you closer. 
“Relax, kitten. You’ll need to recover. I’ll take care of everything.”
~•~•~•~
some people on my post asked to be tagged or really seemed to want this so here u guys go i hope you dont mind the tag
@lunacielooo @in-too-deepspace @sefynarose
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deadghosy · 7 months
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THANKS TO @lazyemmy FOR THIS LOVELY IDEA OF THE PENGUIN! READER💗🦆
HAZBIN HOTEL X PENGUIN! READER
prompt: during one extermination an angel had kidnapped you and took you to heaven based off a common mistake
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“Quack?” You were literally trying to water the hotel’s flowers when you forgot about extermination….the leader of the exterminators had grabbed you by your sailor outfit Velvette made you.
“Shut your mouth short stuff.” You heard a man’s voice to see a person wearing a horned mask and a golden robe. You panicked as Charlie had told you about a man like this as Adam scoffs seeing your panicked state.
“JEEZ CHILL OUT YOU FUCKIN' BIRD BRAIN!” Adam yells as he enters in the portal of heaven with the exterminators behind him. He plops you down on the clouded floors to see the heavenly gates Charlie tells you in stories
As you waddled you seen a male who seemed to be waiting for you. “Ah! Reader..so glad to have you. It seems as if heaven had made a mistake and sent you to hell.” St. Peter said as he picks you up having the gates open. Your eyes widen at the bright light of heaven as angels walk and smile. “Welcome to your true home [reader]”
The air smelt so clean and not bloody as it seemed so peaceful and holy. After St. Peter getting your room and home ready to stay in heaven. You start to feel a little “home” sick as you hope the hotel crew was doing well and aren’t going crazy.
Which they totally are as Charlie is panicking calling her father.
After a few days , Adam will visit you a lot saying how he got forced to look after you…(he wasn’t forced he just liked how cute and pure you are but he’ll never admit it) Adam makes dumb ass jokes about how all those sinners down there should die and perish as he pats you on your little head. You quacked trying to show some worry for your friends down there.
“Oh them? Hah! They’re probably running like headless chickens looking for your ass.” Adam says with his usual grin as he pops some popcorn in his mouth. “Want some?” He says as he waves a piece of popcorn in your face. you sniffed it and ate it from his hand as adam's eyes widen at your cuteness…
you're like a little baby..💗😭😭😭
Adam grabs your chubby cold cheeks as he faces you towards him. “Never leave here. Okay?” He says seriously low with a protective tone as you quack nodding nervously at how quick this dude got attached to you.
Adam pushes your face away from him smirking. “Good now let’s watch this video I saw off of this human app called ‘TikTok’”
Lute didn’t know how to approach you, but she sends you small gifts that reminds her of you as you just open them like “quack?” And a head tilt confused but take it in anyways.
I imagine lute literally being your bodyguard when you don’t have any work to do as she just pushes anyone who gets to close to you away. LIKE IT COULD BE AN OLD LADY AND SHE WOULD BE LIKE “BITCH MOVE!”😭
After the 3rd day of the 1 week of being in heaven, lute definitely got overprotective of you. Always keeping tabs on where you go and which house you deliver mail to. I mean who knows what would happen to a cute soul like you? (A/n: Omg this sounds like a yandere…)
The angels love how adorable you are as they pet you. Immediately you are popular just like how you are popular in hell. Sera has given you a job as a mail boy again as you smile.
I can see St.Peter visit you when he isn’t on duty or just when someone takes his spot so he can say hi and hang out with you.
You wear a cute little yellow and white mail delivery fit thanks to sera who got a designer to get you to fit it perfectly.
You love how you still got your delivery job as you leave a cookie on the front porches of the angels. It’s like your significant signature to others to have a good day.
Adam and lute were arguing one time in front of you and you sniffled not liking the loud noises and immediately, and surprisingly. Adam and Lute pretended everything was okay to make you happy as Adam picked you up and took you away to get your favorite snack for you.
Sera checks on you as well with Emily by her side as Emily just finds you so cute and is excited to get to hang out with you more.
Emily immediately hugs and kisses your head amused by your small and kind soul she sees in you.
Sera would like to take you on stroll on week 2. She’d like to show you around heaven with Emily as she hold you in her arms gushing chow cute you are.
NOW I CAN IMAGINE YOU AND EMILY GOING ON A SHOPPING SPREE TO EXPLORE NEW CLOTHING AESTHETIC ✨💗
You showed yourself to be an angel by spirit as you helped a kid get a new lollipop, which makes sera smile at you being helpful as he is glad to hav with here in heaven and not they “ratchet” place.
You do miss hell as it had your friends who you got use to….you hoped they were still doing okay down there.
MEANWHILE IN HELL: “OMG OMG I CANT BELIEVE THEY GOT KIDNAPPED…IM A BAD FRIENDDD” “HON DONT WORRY, YOUR DAD CAN FIND A WAY TO GET THEM..” “it’s okay fat nuggets, they’ll come back…” *sad oink* and everyone else is having their own panic moment in their own way.
MEANWHILE BACK IN HEAVEN: “quack.” You said looking up at adam who holds your hand. “Huh? Jeeezzz bird brain..stop worrying about those loser down there…they’re fine without you.” Adam says smirking knowing damn well they aren’t .
Emily holds your hand as you waddle quacking at the ice creams around here. They taste so much better as your eyes sparkle at this sweet flavored treat. Emily squeals as her eyes got big and took a pic of your happy face. Sera most definitely got the picture on her heaven phone as her face soften seeing the new angel in heaven enjoying their self.
I imagine Adam is the one to be the one who claims to be the closest to you. But really he just brags about himself to you about how much sinners he kills.
I headcannon for your wings to be little cute fairy looking wings or pure white ones as you just fly.
You definitely have cherubim in heaven which makes the angels find you more adorable as the delivery boy.
You had made an account literally one day, and instantly you got 2 million followers which made you shock as Adam just munches on snacks while you quack panicked at how quick you became famous here.
I headcannon St. Peter to send you cookies with those cute little penguin designs on it. It looks like Christmas cookies but they are so cute and tasty
Say for example you fell and you couldn’t get up as you’re so rounded 😭 LITERALLY ALL YOU CAN DO IS ROLL AND SQEUAK AND QUACK💗 Adam is laughing as he takes a picture and video for himself before helping you up.
I can imagine Adam and Sera having a schedule out to plan who gets it hang out with you on weeks and days 😭
You liked the herbal tea they had as you waddle around with Adam having a kid leash on you as he just looked bored.
At the end of the week, you were sleeping wearing a whole ass cute gown Adam bought you as he literally dropped it on you with a flustered face seeing your cute smile.
As you slept…Lucifer snuck into heaven and snatched you up leaving a “fuck you” letter to Adam. Don’t even question how he got into heaven. Just be glad he took you.
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maythearo · 5 months
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" Welcome back to Night Raven College's 'Ghostly Gossip'! The school's unofficial main online source for the latest news, articles and trending topics circulating around campus! "
"Prepare for trouble and make it double. No, really, the twins are some nightmarish business assistants. I wish I could have them on my team too..."
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Navigation:
R. Rosehearts ▪︎ T. Clover ▪︎ C. Diamond ▪︎ A. Trappola ▪︎ D. Spade ▪︎ L. Kingscholar ▪︎ R. Bucchi ▪︎ J. Howl ▪︎ A. Ashengrotto ▪︎ J. Leech ▪︎ F. Leech ▪︎ K. Al Asim ▪︎ J. Viper ▪︎ V. Schoenheit ▪︎ R. Hunt ▪︎ E. Felmier ▪︎ I. Shroud ▪︎ O. Shroud ▪︎ M. Draconia ▪︎ L. Vanrouge ▪︎ S. Zigvolt ▪︎ Silver
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And the electrified pool incident continues (ik electric eels are of fresh water and not the ocean, but I already drew it. So. I have no canonical explanation for that I did it for the joke)
Taking a second look I'm starting to think their outfits are too simple, but first and foremost I wanted to do something fun for the looks of their primary features. I took inspiration from Luca (probably one of my favorite movies ever so I couldn't help but reference it here too lol) for the eye catching merform designs! Considering they're canonically sea monsters anyway, I didn't want to just insert their og designs here, so in this au they're more like in between their og merforms and human forms, also with their color pallettes are more similar to what flotsam and jetsam looked like in the little mermaid movie imo I wanted them to essentially wear the same thing despite the contrasting personalities, and technically most of the time they're walking around the school they're simultaneously working for Azul, looking for students to make deals with happens in this universe too (fortunately for them and unfortunatelyfor others), so an outfit more inclined to formal would be ideal to cause a good impression on their business, or as good as they can make it anyway. Nobody can contain Floyd though, if he has to wear an uniform he is going to stylize it.
Keeping it short this time, I don't wanna keep it on my drafts to add more notes later and postpone this more than I already have 💀 if I remember more facts about the AU twins I'll share them later!
Also, I was thinking of making a tag for asks related to this AU and I think I'll name it #.phantom asks to follow the AU theme lol but now I have to edit previous asks to insert this tag so wish me luck
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fashion-runways · 7 months
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hi!! new pinned post, because the last one had gotten long again-- if you want to read previous posts, here's the first one, here's the second one. the tl;dr from those is that my dad got wrongfully imprisoned abruptly, our place was raided, the cops broke a bunch of shit and took a bunch of our things and still haven't returned them, they left all the broken things for us to spend money in repairing, we had to spend money on a lawyer, trips to visit him, new clothes, medicine and food for him in jail, etc. it was a mess, way more details in both posts. he's back home now, with an ankle monitor because technically his case isn't being investigated yet, they haven't done anything about it at all, the case hasn't moved one ounce lmao it's great, always trust the judicial system and cops!! ugh, anyway!
we found a therapist for my dad who can help her deal with all the stuff he had to deal with while in prison, all the bullying, the depression, the starving, the separation, etc. he needs to get a bunch of other medical appointments, has to get surgery, among other things, but for now things are much better on that front. that being said, he did lose his job and my old redbubble account got suspended without a warning months ago, plus argentina's economy is... really bad right now. food prices rise every day, public transportation prices went up like a 200% in a couple of weeks, salaries are low and stuck there, subsidies are gone, the local peso keeps falling, we have an absolute psychopath as a president who spends more time insulting or threatening anyone who oppose him than caring about people. it's a disaster. for updates on argentina in english, this person on twitter makes very good informative threads if you're interested.
anyway, i used to make around 30/40 dollars a month in redbubble, and that used to help adding up to the donations i got here, and it got suspended, so now i make like 1/2 dollars on teepublic monthly. so... it's a huge loss. there's a lot of things me and my mom are in charge of paying-- groceries, power and water and gas, medicine (she's diabetic, i have some sort of chronic sinusitis), our dog and cat's food and medicines, wifi, phone bills, public transportation, healthcare, my dad's new therapist... so, you know, i really need anything people can donate. even if it's just a single dollar, literally any amount helps. i love fashion so much and i love this blog, i work really hard on it even when my brain says no, and i really appreciate how much you guys love it too. i love seeing people discover new styles, new designers, new things to be inspired by. so, yeah... i'm never going anywhere, but i do need help to basically stay afloat.
as usual, my kofi link is this one: https://ko-fi.com/fashionrunways and my teepublic link is this one: https://www.teepublic.com/user/dinah-lance. thanks for being around and sharing and reblogging my posts, thanks for asking questions about fashion, and of course thanks for helping to the ones who can, and thanks to the ones who can't too, i know how that feels like, don't worry about it. love you 💖
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realcube · 3 months
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HQ MEN AS YOUR BOSS ...with chemistry pt2
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characters ♡ kuroo, atsumu, sakusa & ushijima
tws/tags ♡ vaginal, semi-public sex // recording, slight daddy kink // oral (receiving) // size kink — minors dni!
part one ♡ sfw version
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♡ KUROO
as a chief sports promotor, of course kuroo needs a secretary, but the jva says he'll need to pay for one out of his own wage. he's apprehensive about the idea at first but figures that with the time he'll save by having one, the profit would be greater than the loss. and once he meets you, he's automatically sold.
although he may have have been wrong about the whole 'profit greater than loss' thing, he's definitely losing a bit of money by having you as a secretary. not of your performance or anything — no, you're an incredibly effective worker and are increasing engagement by tenfolds — but rather, due to the fact he's dropped thousands on gifts for you.
kuroo isn't subtle about wanting you, so instead of overtly flirting with you like a lout, waiting by your desk almost everyday is a gift with a cheeky note. without fail, it is always pricey and extravagant too: diamond necklaces, luxury perfumes, designer bags and jewellery made from real gold and silver (he knows which metal you prefer, but he buys you both because you can have it all). it's a classy way of showing he cares.
one day, a random tuesday a month after you and your ex broke up, your primal desires took over, and — after two years of knowing each other — you finally decided to submit to kuroo's advances. you could do a lot worse, anyway.
and you realise that as he has you bent over his desk, in his office contructed of mainly windows. at least you had a nice view of the city skyline while he hit it from behind. with his hands starting at your waist, then exploring under blouse, he leans forward to sensually kiss from your shoulders to your neck. slowly and gentle, in stark constrast to how roughly he was nailing into you.
he keeps going until he reaches just behind your ear, then he chuckles against your flush skin, "wearing the perfume i bought, angel? smells good on you." his finger circles your clit teasingly, "i like it. gotta let everyone know whose bitch you are."
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♡ ATSUMU
he doesn't give a shit about his garden, it just happened to come with the big house he bought. there could be a family of rabies-infested racoons living back there for all he cares. atsumu just saw your personal adverisement for your gardening services online and thought you were hot. thus, he made up some lie about wanting trees planted and flowers grown to get you to come over.
but once you actually arrived at his home, you were far too focussed on taming the inhospitable environment he calls a garden to even notice the passes he was making at you. eventually he just gave up and left you to your work, but not without discreetly taking photos of you from the windows in his kitchen to send to the msby jackals groupchat with the 👀 eyes emoji.
he was expecting jealousy to befall the team but instead, the jackals take notice of how intently you are working on the garden, and atsumu receives and influx of messages mocking him for showing off a girl that clearly has no interest in him and offering their houses as a solace for you. however, he promptly replies stating that even though you may seem preoccupied right now, by the end of the day, he guarantees he will have slept with you, and if he doesn't, he owes each one of them ten thousand yen.
and unfortunately for the jackals, atsumu wins that bet.
"just like that, yeah." he grunts, holding your legs against his shoulders, "cum for daddy. c'mon." his breathing is heavy while his bare chest, glistening with a sheen of sweat, heaves. he has you laying on his coffee table while he fucks into you, big cock leaving you a wet, incoherent mess. your greedy cunt clamps down on him and he can tell by your quivering legs and heightening moans that you are close to your climax.
"thats righ— wait.." his breath hitches, steady pace faltering for only a moment as he grabs his phone off the couch and swipes, onto the camera. slowly regaining power and momentum in his thusts while holding the camera above your exposed figure. he grins and slurs, "gotta record this t' send to the team n' prove i wrecked this gorgeous body. go on. keep moaning for daddy."
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♡ SAKUSA
there's no better feeling than coming home to a pristine house, that's what sakusa thought. however, being pro volleyball and always training and going to promotional events hasn't left him with much time to get the cleaning done himself. he wasn't fond of the idea of someone being in his house alone when he wasn't there, but he was even less fond of coming home after a long day of training, muscles aching, and still having to vacuum.
he researched dozens of cleaning companies, until he found one that he deemed reputable enough hire from. he arrages the trial for a day he is off so he can assess the quality and trust-worthiness of the cleaner he is sent.
so perhaps it was the halo effect, but as soon as he saw you walk through his door, he knew he wouldn't have a problem with leaving you alone in his house. in fact, the idea tickled him slightly.
having a cleaner wasn't cheap, especially considering how big his house is. despite that, after he met you, he increased the frequency of cleaning visits to five days a week, making you essentially his personal staff. and it goes on like this for around five months, racking up quite hefty total.
every single penny is worth it though, in his opinion. to come home to shining floors, spotless counters and to experience the habitual fleeting moment of tension between the two of you, before you left. that all changed though when he got his first day off in months, and he was able to hang around the house while you did your usual duties.
you were sprawled out over his linen couch, one leg hooked over the armrest and the other resting on his shoulder. lips moves vigorously against your folds, while his tongues delves in and out of your dripping hole. the sizzling coil that's been winding in the base of your stomach suddenly gone stiff, ready to snap at any moment.
his merciless fingers pinch and pull at your clit, as his tongue continues to plough in and out of you, rhythm only ever wavering to lap up the juices covering your folds. that is, until the coil breaks and you come undone right against his face. your walls convulse around him and a breathy moan is pulled from you. hot liquid surges out of your pussy in squirts with each thrust of sakusa's tongue, as he fucks you through your high.
once you settle down, he finally pulls away for air. with your fluid dripping down his chin, drenching his shirt and the wooden floor beneath. slowly standing up, sakusa looks at the floor with a grimace, "clean this up."
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♡ USHIJIMA
whether ushijima can cook or not is down to personal preference, but he is independant enough to know how to cook meals that are vital to a hearty and healthy diet, such as boiled eggs, oats, beef stew etc. yes his dishes may be lacking in any flavour or delectability but it's nutritious and that's what matters.
but once he is a pro volleyball player and travelling constantly, he doesn't have the time to meal prep for himself anymore and his paycheck grants him some disposable income, so what's the harm in hiring a chef?
however, once you enter his life as his personal cook, you become a luxury he can no longer live without. until now, ushijima wasn't aware eating was supposed to be enjoyable, he always viewed it as something he just at to do in order to get all his essential vitamins and minerals. who knew food could taste this good?
it was an extra benefit that you looked so good while making it, too. neither of you would ever admit it but there was always a heavy atmosphere of sexuality when you were around each other. ushijima was undoubtably stoic so his tells were subtle, but you took notice of the lingering eye-contact; how his hand would always brush past your ass when he'd walk by you in the kitchen; the way he'd stand so close to you in coversation.
it was only a matter of time before the boiling tension between you two erupted.
you sat on the kitchen counter with your legs wrapped around his torso as his big cock drilled into you. your arms were over his shoulders, nails digging into his back with your eyes sewn shut. he's a mammoth; the biggest you've ever taken. every time he pushed into you, it was as though you were going to split in half.
he could tell you were struggling, so he slipped a hand under your ass and pulled you towards him in order to whisper in your year, but during the process he ended up forcing his dick even deeper inside you, resulting in a mewl from you. he leaned down and grunted, "take it."
something about your trembling form, so delicate and supple, hardly able to fit him inside you, it drove him mad. so eager finish himself off, he picks up you up by the ass so you are hovering a couple inches off the counter, and takes full control of your movement. pressing you against his dick per his whim and matching your movements to his brutal pace.
your only response to this is a chorus of profanities, and piercing the flesh of his back with your nails. he's delighted, though, at how your pleading pussy swallows him so nicely, despite its initial protests.
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assumptionprime · 1 month
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Playing Dark Souls 2 again and damn, in spite of its rough edges, I think it’s my favorite.
They’re all good, mind you. Dark Souls 1 is the foundation, and 3 is playing the hits while also saying that it can’t just play the hits forever and has to end.
And Dark Souls 2 is doing its own weird different thing and I love it.
I think it has the best story of the three games, because it really concerns itself with people.
The intro isn’t a list of people and monsters you need to kill, it’s your story. How you came into this land. You are afflicted with the curse of undeath, and it’s destroying your life and your mind. Everything that follows is based around that. You’re not the Chosen Undead, a title put on you in the first game because of a role you’re expected to play in some legend. You’re the Bearer of the Curse, because that’s your concern in all this, your curse.
You see it afflict others throughout the game, too. Most of the characters in Majula can’t remember how they got here, their goals, their lives before Drangleic are fading, same as yours. Lucatiel is by far my favorite NPC in any Souls game, a tragic view of another cursed undead that doesn’t quite make it. You fight alongside her. She confides in you, forms a bond with you. And then, as the last remnants of her mind, her self, leave her, she begs you to remember her name. Vendrick, the mighty king of Drangleic, is a shell of himself. He shuffles around in his own tomb, having long ago succumbed to the curse. He may as well already be dead. In every way that matters, he is.
And if you don’t figure something out, it’s going to happen to you, too.
Some to do has been made about the world layout not making sense. Some say it’s bad design or development troubles leading to compromises. Others say it’s intentional, that time and space are warped, though I think that’s either not true here or done much better in DS3. I subscribe to a third camp I’ve seen a bit less frequently: These nonsensical ways you move between some of these places are because you forgot how you got from one place to the other.
“So you got to the top of the tower, then what?”
“Oh, then I got on an elevator, which took me up— up to… I was on an elevator… then I was in an old keep sinking into a lake of lava.”
You’re losing your mind and your memory, you just can’t remember what happened between Earthen Peak and Old Iron Keep.
So you go slay the old ones, find Vendrick, seek out the ancient dragon, defeat Nashandra and—
It doesn’t work. You don’t cure the curse. You can either take the throne, or keep looking for a cure. We don’t see what kind of monarch you are to your ruined kingdom if you stay. And we don’t see you find a cure to the curse if you leave.
You lose.
It’s left to you to decide, does continuing to fight this fate have meaning? Is the struggle, in and of itself, worthwhile?
Dark Souls 2 is about going Hollow, and I love that it goes in such a different direction with its lore and story to be that.
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delulujuls · 9 months
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thick thighs save lives (but ruin racing suits) | ln4, op81
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hi! i got this idea from one tiktok i saw today. this one goes for my plus size girlies (including myself lmao) so please enjoy as much as papaya boys would enjoy some pair of thick thighs!
summary: lando and oscar never seen their friend with something tight on, so when it comes to try on new racing suits she have a big surprise for them
warnings: slightly disturbed perception of body image
pairing: oscar piastri x fem!mclarendriver x lando norris
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Y/N sometimes forgot that she was a girl.
At the beginning of her career she tried to make an effort to look good, showing that a male-dominated sport wouldn't take away her feminine grace. Years ago she used to wake up early, style her hair, do makeup and spend a lot of money on fixing cosmetics but unfortunately everything was lost due to sweat, a balaclava and a tight helmet. So the girl decided that this fight made absolutely no sense - she decided to stuck only to lip balm and mascara.
Despite keeping her makeup to a minimum, even her mascara remained treacherous, smearing under her eyes after each race or training session, making her look like a panda. In terms of clothes, the girl didn't have much opportunity to show off either. Her clothes were largely either team tracksuits, a racing suit, or just a baggy orange T-shirt and jeans.
And just as Oscar and Lando looked great after the race despite sweat and messy hair, her post-race glow didn't really existed. On the contrary, she looked as if she had a hard, sleepless night.
It is known that when media days fell on the calendar, the girl tried to look her best. She had light make-up and nicely styled hair, but her body was still covered by loose layers of clothes. It would seem that apart from her physiotherapist and the team doctor, no one around her had any idea what kind of figure the girl really had.
However, everything changed when the break between seasons came. When places had numerous galas and events and you could throw away uncomfortable helmets and team clothes. However, as we know, everything comes to an end at some point and we have to return to the gray reality. This was the case, when the day came and it was time to try on new racing suits for the upcoming season.
Y/N hugged Lando and Oscar upon seeing them outside the entrance to McLaren's headquarters. The trio hadn't had the opportunity to see each other for several weeks, so there was a lot of joy. In a good mood, surrounded by conversation, they went inside and immediately went to the designated place. After a short presentation of costumes, everyone received theirs and went to change, only to come back after a while and report any reservations regarding comfort and range of movement. Y/N took her suit without thinking and went to change. She was surprised when the suit got stuck on her butt and refused to go up any higher.
"What the hell"
The girl muttered under her breath, gripping her fit tighter and jumping in it several times. When it finally slid over her ass, Y/N slipped her hands into the sleeves and zipped up the zipper, sealing the Velcro around her neck. Something was definitely wrong. The girl looked in the mirror at her reflection. The outfit was great and looked amazing, the only problem was that it was a bit tight. Which shouldn't be the case, because the outfits were based on last season's, so the dimensions shouldn't differ drastically. It was impossible to gain so much weight in three months, right?
The girl turned around, looking at the back of her body. The outfit was definitely tight. Just as it was still relatively tight on her chest, it was very tight on her thighs and butt.
Y/N covered her mouth with her hand, looking at her reflection. Have she really always had such big thighs? Did she actually gain weight during the past break?
She was brought out of her thoughts by a knock on the bathroom and the voices of Lando and Oscar outside the door.
"Are you ready?"
The girl felt her cheeks burning with shame.
"I think I have a problem"
Hearing this, the friends fell silent and looked at each other.
"Can we come in?"
Y/N agreed quietly, still staring at herself in the mirror. With each passing second, she became more and more confused about her reflection.
Oscar and Lando entered the bathroom, also wearing their suits. When they noticed their friend standing with her back to them, the first thing they noticed was her butt. Lando quickly looked up at the ceiling and Oscar walked over to the girl, trying his hardest to focus on the reflection of her face in the mirror.
"What happened?"
Y/N bit her lip in shame and silently turned towards them. Her friends involuntarily looked at her, pretending they didn't know what she meant. But as soon as they saw the material tight around her ass from the entrance to the bathroom, they knew exactly what the matter was about.
"My suit is too tight" The girl said quietly, looking at herself "It doesn't fit at all"
Lando wrapped his arms around himself and covered his mouth with his hand. He tried his hardest not to speak, because all he could think about were comments about her thighs and whether she could crush him with them. It didn't get much easier for Oscar. He put his hands on his hips and looked at his friend silently. He was afraid that he would be unable to comfort her in any way, because his mind was completely blank.
Piastri cleared his throat after a while, trying to return from the land of fantasy and behave as if the whole situation was really dramatic.
"Is it very tight?"
"Oh, just look!"
The girl spread her arms and spun around. Lando bit his lip and tilted his head back. Oscar held his breath, having no idea what to say. He was totally mesmerized by her curves.
"I- Uhm, I think it's just a mistake and they'll make you a different one without any problem."
"Different one?" Y/N asked, feeling tears in her eyes. “What if it's not a mistake and I've gained weight these past few months?”
"After all, the tests showed that everything was fine with your measurements."
Oscar said calmly.
Y/N turned to the mirror again and looked at her reflection.
"What a total shit"
"Hey, don't say that" Lando was immediately outraged "You look great"
"Great?" The girl snorted, "Come on, I look ridiculous."
"To be honest, I agree with Lando one hundred percent."
Oscar replied, looking once more at the back of the girl's body.
"My thighs are a disaster! What kind of racing driver has such big thighs?"
The girl burst out, turning again towards them.
"Max has nice thighs," Lando pointed out, thinking for a moment, "I'm sure his thighs are the national pride of the Netherlands."
Y/N wasn't in the mood to joke. Devastated, she looked down her body.
Oscar walked up to her and hugged her without saying a word.
"You look beautiful. And you have a really amazing figure"
Lando walked over to his friends and hugged them as well.
The girl felt a little better with the support of her friends. However, for a moment she forgot that men would be men and nothing would ever dissuade them from having dirty thoughts.
"I agree with Oscar, because you really look great," Lando started. Oscar looked at him, knowing full well what was coming and knowing that he wouldn't be able to stop it. "But with all the respect I have for you as a friend and as a woman in general, holy shit, I would pay extra for you to strangle me with your thighs. And man, that mad bunda, too."
Y/N didn't know what to say for a moment. She only felt a blush creeping onto her cheeks. Did she just receive the strangest compliment of her life?
She freed herself a little from her friends' embrace and looked at Lando's face.
"Seriously?"
He seeing that his comment was not received negatively, quickly nodded.
"You have such a body that-" "Lando meant that you shouldn't worry about what you look like because you look really great."
Oscar interjected, knowing full well that Lando's comments should be kept to himself.
The girl smiled weakly and sniffled. Her friends' words lifted her spirits a bit.
"My only concern now is how I will get this contraption off of me."
Lando and Oscar smirked, involuntarily exchanging glances.
"I think we can help you with that."
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Portgas D. Ace Headcanons 01
Excuse me Oda-sensei, but that 40 year old Ace is simply criminal. Thank you so much for blessing us with him
Anyway! Have some Husband!Ace headcanons For more Ace content please head to my Tumblr MasterList
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Ace is, respectfully, a huge simp for his wife
To the extent that the Whitebeard crew straight up jokingly awarded him with a “Biggest Wife Simp” Award
They made it look official and had Whitebeard sign it and everything. There's even a stamp.
Ace has it framed and hung proudly on the wall next to your bachelor’s degree / college diploma / degree in general. 
I feel like despite his own personal insecurities, Ace still manages to be an amazing father
I imagine Ace originally setting out for like one or two kiddos at most (because y'know...what if he's not good enough) and ending up with 3 or 4 kids
Thing is, that’s both your faults.
Ace is tender and goofy with his kids, and he’s so friggin caring: to the extent that…well wouldn’t it be neat to see him with maybe another 2 or 3 kiddos of his own? 
(Your husband is hot okay?)
In his case, he swears you have a unique glow about you when you’re pregnant. But more than that when he sees you with your first born, he suddenly wants a big family with you.
I imagine his kids are an eldest son, then his princess, then the youngest boy who takes after his uncle Luffy.
His kids aren’t parentified. He keeps his issues far, far, away from them. Besides, he’s got you by his side.
He was dedicated to making sure they got as much playtime as possible.
He heard about learning through play, and he is DEDICATED to doing that as much as possible
Ace’s kids are spoiled with affection, but not spoiled brats.
While it’s true he’d give them the world, he’d rather let them go get it themselves. 
For example: when they asked for a tree house, he gave them the greenlight immediately.
But they had to build it themselves.
It was a super fun project lasting a little over two months with the whole family involved.
Oh and the Whitebeard crew helped too.
It took a while to get the design down initially, then the shopping logistics and whatnot (they used a lot of math here - see education via play)
Building the thing took maybe a weekend or two because the Whitebeard Crew and even the Strawhats came over to help
(It was mostly Franky and Usopp doing work, Sanji was cooking with Thatch)
Uncle Luffy was not allowed near the construction zone after an accident.
They almost destroyed the tree house with their partying once
Ace’s kids were not happy and no one was allowed in the backyard for the rest of the night
He makes sure they have proper manners and self-defense skills
You had to help out here, no lie.
He admitted he needed your help, especially after a dinner with Garp where Makino tagged along to see Ace again
He puts all of his kids into martial arts classes
especially his princess - he’s so proud of her when she beats up bullies
He’s not great at discipline though to be honest. He probably goes about it similarly to Garp. 
Ace will not tolerate any of his kids being nasty to their mother. No matter the phase.
You will have to hold him back if you want to let them get their frustration off their chest.
He’ll let them talk, but you’ll have to keep a hand on him somewhere, his arm, his hand, his knee, his shoulder, his back and rub soothing circles
Let’s just say, “talk shit, get hit,” is Ace’s attitude towards anyone being demeaning towards you (more so with adults, not his kids, but that's why they get a scolding)
"Ace my love" (he melts every time you call him that) "the kids’ll start thinking you love me more than them if you do that"
"My kids won’t disrespect their mother though!"
"They’re just venting darling, and when they say or do something that violates my boundaries, I'll be sure to reinforce it. Lead by example right?"
If they ever feel like pissing Ace off for fun they can just say something kinda not nice about you and he'll get mad and they'll flee from him giggling like the little gremlins they are
Ace is veeeeeeeeerry physically affectionate and he isn’t shy about it at all.
At gatherings with the Whitebeard family, he will gladly seat you in his lap, he will happily hug you as you are seated.
His arm is on your waist most of the time.
They tease him to make him tone it down, he does not.
He, in fact, dials it up. Turns up the heat lol.
You have kids? Not in front of them? What do you mean, not in front of the kids? It’s important they know just how much he loves their mama!
So he will continue to be playful with his hugs and kisses and other displays of affection.
It’s nothing too over the top. Just hugs and quick pecks wherever.
Your entire head is fair game for his smooches, your arms (he loves kissing your pulse and then making eye contact, sneaky guy that he is), your shoulders.
Maybe lifting you and spinning you around. Cuddles. Little bites.
He will play-wrestle his kids to “fight” them over getting to cuddle you, and then he’ll just put all his weight on all of you in a group cuddle
Just to let you know, your kids also receive all the warmth and love of his affections.
When his sons are still tiny and adorable, he smooches them all over. The kisses grow less frequent as they grow older, but the hugs do not stop.
Oh no, hugs galore.
Ace still pecks his little princess on her forehead though
When they’re all under ten he’ll wrap them in a hug (after he chased them down and caught them so they’re laughing and screaming) and start smooching their cheeks while they laugh and try to get out of his grasp
Also yes she’s his princess, but that girl has no problem throwing a fully grown man twice her size around, he made sure of it.
I reiterate: Ace is not remotely shy about displays of affection
Like his eldest could have a friend over, and Ace would still launch a full scale hug attack using the rest of his troops (daughter/youngest)
It's complete with screeching, screaming, and a lot of laughter
His kids used to get teased for it, but it didn’t take more than a few conversations for them to instead jeer at the kids that teased them.
"You’re all jealous your parents don’t love you like ours do"
"How sad, your parents don't hug and kiss you"
Their dad, grandpa, uncle - uncles really, are all gremlins - it's in their DNA
The kids are really physically affectionate with each other as a result
Deadass they’ll be kicking the shit out of each other one second and the next they’ll be all cuddled and huddled up playing Mario Kart or something
Ace is his kids’ hero.
His sons aspire to have his level of fitness.
His daughter, when she’s older, uses him as a standard for dating
You're relieved
Ace is touched and a touch nervous, because he is aware of his shortcomings, though he works hard to keep improving
Of course when you look at him, a twinkle in your eyes, and tell him, “I’m so proud of her, I’m so proud of you!” He feels better
When you continue: “if she can find a guy like you, who cherishes her as much as you cherish me, I’d be so happy.”
Ace loves you so much he swears
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uglypastels · 1 month
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Logan x reader where the reader is scott's younger sister and they're in a secret relationship because she's younger/obviously doesn't want her brother to know. Maybe Scott tries to set her up with someone else or she gets hurt on a mission or something because she got too cocky and everything comes to the surfaces. Sorry I know that's now very descriptive🙈
no don't be sorry this was perfect, if not giving me too much to word with lol. this is so great I wasn't really sure how to incorporate all the elements, but I hope what I managed to do was still good. I certainly had a lot of fun writing it lol. also, apologies if there are some dumb mistakes/errors. i am so sleep deprived but just really wanted to post this before going to bed.
warning: Smut 18+ only. MDNI. no condom [wrap it before you tap it pls]. p in v. fingering. swearing. degradation ["slut" is used]. accidentally almost public stuff. quickie. sub/dom dynamic. un/intentional cockblocking.
~ X-Men Requests Open ~ Masterlist ~
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‘Oh my god,’ you moaned out as Logan pressed you against the wall of the small janitor’s closet. It was too cliché to even think about it. And who would have ever expected the Academy to have a janitor’s closet? If you thought about it, it was almost as if the universe wanted you to take this opportunity and hook up with him in the little cubby.
The second you saw him that morning in his loose-fitted long-sleeve and those boot-cut jeans, the only thing you could think about for the rest of the day was how much you needed him. You had managed to survive past noon, and then you had to go and stumble into the garage and catch him working on his motorbike.
His long-sleeve was discarded to reveal the white, now slightly dirty, tank top. His arms were toned and tanned. You watched him just long enough for him to notice your presence, then to grab the towel hanging from his back pocket and wipe his hands clean. 
‘C’mere, Princess,’ he called you over with two fingers, and you almost felt like you had gained the ability to float so quickly had you made your way over to him. Next thing you know, he had picked you up, his hands firmly on your ass, yours in his hair, and your lips colliding in a passionate crash of a kiss. 
‘Fuck, I missed this,’ you moaned out in a desperate moment to catch a breath with your chest already heaving. ‘Missed you.’ You kissed the corner of his mouth, getting the most satisfaction at how a smile formed in the spot where your lips touched him. Neither of you could help yourselves. The urges you felt were nearly animalistic, but when you were around him, you also felt like you were up in the clouds, feeling light as a feather and giddy like an idiot. The need for him was coursing through your veins. 
‘Mmm, I know, sugar,’ his voice came deep from his throat in a growl full of yearning. ‘Gonna let me have my way with you, yeah?’
All you could respond with was a desperate moan. So caught up in the delicious feeling of his body against yours, that you nearly missed the beeping announcement of the garage doors opening. You would have gone on unaware of anything going on around you if it wasn’t for Logan pulling away and setting you back on the ground. It was like a switch flipped on inside your brain, and just in time, as the doors opened and a car drove up as you took your precautionary steps away from Logan, who had gone back to working on his bike. 
The car halted in its designated parking spot, and you weren’t surprised to find your older brother, Scott, stepping out of it. Only he would have such perfectly unfortunate timing.
‘Hi Scott,’ you tried to sound chipper about bumping into him, and absolutely not like he had just interrupted a much-needed make-out session with your boyfriend that he knew nothing about. How you had managed to keep it a secret for all these months, you had no idea. 
‘Hey,’ he smiled politely you way, as he had already made his way to the exit. As always, you couldn’t see his eyes through the red glasses he wore, and yet you could tell exactly where he was looking at with that judgemental look of his. But Logan didn’t pay him any attention, which might have even been the bigger insult than if he had quipped something your brother’s way. You knew he wanted to, though, but you also knew that he didn’t want to insult your brother right in front of you. 
You waited for Scott to walk out of the room, but to your surprise, your brother turned around to you. ‘Are you coming?’
‘She was about to.’ You heard Logan mumble under his breath as he… You weren’t sure what exactly he was doing with that bike with the screwdriver. You never understood much of mechanics.
‘Uhm, yeah,’ you responded, ‘I uhh– I just wanted to ask Logan something. I’ll just be a moment.’
‘No, I’ll see you later, bub,’ Logan caught you off guard. ‘This might still take a while and I don’t want to keep you waiting.’
‘Oh, ok.’ You pushed the disappointment off your face before you started walking to the exit where Scott stood, still none the wiser. As soon as you walked into the corridor, you made up an excuse to go the other way and walked as fast as you could without making it necessarily suspicious if he had glanced your way.
The hours that followed went by painfully slow. You kept your eye out for Logan, but he was nowhere to be seen all afternoon. Dinner had come and gone, and you were returning to your room, already having made your peace with the fact that today was simply one of those days where fate kept you apart.
And exactly at that moment, Logan turned the corner.
‘Where the hell were you all day?’ you questioned, annoyed, but no matter how angry you pretended to be, the grin on your face at the sight of your boyfriend was quite clear in meaning.
‘I did have stuff to finish on my bike.’ He took a few large strides your way, ‘and then some kids needed help with something.’
‘Aww, that’s sweet.’ You leaned into him, your chin on his chest, as you looked up into his eyes.
‘Don’t act too surprised, Princess.’ His arms immediately wove themselves around your waist, and you slowly leaned for a kiss. It was risky to do this in an open hallway where anyone could walk in, but in the moment, you couldn’t care less. You just wanted to feel him, all over you. The desperation for it grew with each second and was ready to explode. 
That was all in theory, of course, since as soon as you heard any threat, the risk-taking daredevil part of you immediately hid, and you were looking for an escape route. It was two pairs of footsteps this time that echoed through the hallways. You cursed under your breath. 
Just your luck to be standing next to a door. Trying its limits again, you pulled down at the door handle and sighed with relief as it opened. You quickly slipped inside, pulling Logan in behind you by the hand. He closed the door back behind him just in time as the footsteps, which you now recognised to be Scott and Jean’s, along with their voices, moved across the spot where you had just been standing.
‘Are they—’ but your question never was finished, as your lips were caught in a haste kiss. It was pitch black in the tiny room, but you heard Logan pull the lightbulb cord. The next thing you know, the faint yellow light illuminated what you now recognised to be the janitor’s cubby. A closet large enough to fit a large shelfcase filled with cleaning products, buckets, and towels. But Logan needed no time to orientate himself. He was already all over you. One hand pinning your leg up against his upper thigh, leading you against the wall. 
‘Oh my god,’ you moaned out as you felt the pressure and structure of the room against your shoulders, Logan’s chest against yours. His hand stroke up and down your leg, squeezing at the soft flesh of your ass.
‘Wanna be my good little girl?’ Logan growled into your ear.
‘Yes,’ you whined, desperate for more than just his kiss. ‘Fuck, yes.’
‘Want me to fuck your tight little pussy, sugar? Just like you’ve been begging me for? What you say, you little slut?’ At the sound of his words, all of yours simply escaped you and so you could only respond in a series of moans and whines. All sounds that brought Logan immense joy and arousal. ‘Yeah, thought so.’ It had been a very conscious choice you had made that morning by wearing a skirt. Not that you had expected to end the day in this closet, but you were sure it would end somewhere in Logan’s grip. And so you were fully prepared. 
His fingers smoothed over your panties, pressing over your slit, feeling the material get soaked through just that one simple touch. But it wasn’t enough. For either you or him. He kept toying with you for a few more minutes, never crossing the material barrier of your underwear, long strokes up and down, pushing in closer, almost as if nothing was there to separate you. 
‘Please,’ you cried out, ‘baby, please. I need–’
‘What do you need, sweetheart? C’mon, use your words?’ God, you hated when he got so cocky. You could never take much of his teasing. Then again, you weren’t in here to exactly last long. 
‘Need your fingers. Please.’ 
‘Good girl,’ he kissed your forehead, snapped the band of your underwear to make you whine so prettily as he loved, and pulled the panties down your legs. 
Another filthy moan left you as his fingers slowly filled you up. The expletives rolled off your tongue in the rhythm of his thrusts. He kept a steady pace, and one that left you shaking against him. So much so that soon enough, he had to hold you up by the arm, pinning you down even harder. One leg propped up high for even easier access to his favourite part of you. 
‘Such a good slut, taking anything I give you, anywhere I want you.’ His voice could practically get you over the edge alone, and he knew that well enough on his own, and so he kept talking. ‘Can’t wait to get my hard cock in you, Princess. Gonna fill you up so good. Fuck. Just you wait—’
‘No, please,’ you cried out.
‘What’s that? My girl can’t wait a few more minutes for her cock?’ He kissed your neck so ferociously it was more like his teeth grazing over the sensitive skin, and the sensation left shivers down your whole body. He raised his mouth up to directly speak against your ear.
‘So fucking desperate. Wish you could see yourself now. Just know you’d do anything for me, wouldn’t you?’ He punctuated the question with one final deep thrust of his large fingers. ‘You gonna cum? No, no, no. Not yet. You’re gonna let me have my fun first, isn’t that right?’
‘Yes.’ was all you managed to say. Then his lips clashed with yours in another of your sloppy kisses. Your hands found themselves in his hair for the second time that day, and you already felt yourself falling into bliss, and that was all without even the feeling of his length finally pushing deep in you. If only you could scream the pleasure you felt. But for now, in the closet, you would make due by digging your nails into his shoulder. That, in turn, only got Logan more riled up as his thrust grew in pace. He hit all your right spots evenly, hard and deep. If he kept going like that, and you were sure he would, you didn’t know just how much longer you would last.
‘Fuck, I’m gonna–’ your voice was breathy and out of focus, as all that was on your mind was him inside you. 
‘Yeah, c’mon, sweetheart, come for me. Come all over my cock.’ he growled the words with the same intensity and desperation for release you felt.
You were so close. Just ready to burst. Moment away when—
When suddenly, a knock on the other side of the door halted the both of you. In a sudden moment, everything washed away with the power of a tsunami. Leaving nothing behind but emptiness.
Someone cleared their throat. Someone who you could already recognise from that simple gesture. 
‘Alright, it’s past curfew, lovebirds, knock it out.’ You could hear in your brother’s voice just how uncomfortable he was by catching two, what he assumed to be students, clearly hooking up. Your guess was that the room had not been as soundproof as you imagined a cubby to be. Or you were that much louder. 
You looked up at Logan, who had already started zipping up his jeans. There was another firm knock on the door.
Well, if Scott had already felt embarrassed, you were about to make it ten times worse.
the end.
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