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evilgwrl · 9 months ago

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ExHusband!Simon x Reader

You Want a Divorce? (Two)

Note: I feel like this is so bad im sorry!!!!

CW: Angst, titty sucking, passionate asf sex, simon missed ur pussy and you very much and vise versa, breeding kink, PIV (no protection, pls use it irl), squirting, simon eats the FUCK out of ur pussy, multiple orgasms, praise, hint of degradation, possessive!simon, OVERSTIMULATION, slight daddy kink… sorry

Part One

It was a quiet ride, the subtle sweeps of cars fleeting by as Simon gripped the wheel, eyes trailing off to the side to look at you briefly. Your head was leaned against the window, your knees knocking together anxiously as your daughter babbled in the back, cooing about how Mummy and Daddy were now back together.

You tried to hide the shed of tears that filtered across your iris, every small childish mumble like a stab to the gut as you listened to the genuine happiness in her tone. You would turn around occasionally with a small smile as you reached out to tickle her foot, giggles filling the car.

Simon pulled in, the car bouncing slightly as it hit the gravel carpark, his hand swerving into a spot before he turned to the back. “You excited, baby?”

Ella’s face lit up as she fumbled to take off her seatbelt, “Get me, Daddy! Get me! I wanna see the lions!” It was refreshing knowing she still viewed Simon as her hero, no matter how distant he was in their lives. You knew that even though your ex-husband was rarely around, his time with them did everything it could to mend the time apart. Toby woke up at the commotion, the toddler having slept the whole way there despite his older sister’s constant bickering about what animals she had to see first.

Everything seemed to flash past you as you walked inside, the whir of kids and noise sending your brain into overdrive as your eyes flickered to Simon with Ella swinging around on his shoulders and Toby kicking his legs in the stroller. You looked away; breath shaky as you attempted to compose yourself. This was supposed to be a happy day, for all of you, yet seeing him with your children, something that was supposed to be normal, felt so distant and unknown. Gathering yourself, you plastered a fake smile, hands reaching out to pinch your son’s cheeks as you grabbed the stroller.

Your heart hammered in your chest for the remainder of the day, fingers tingling with anxiety that bled into your veins, consuming your lungs with what seemed like everything but oxygen. It was a series of squeals and commotions from your young ones, their elation evident through the bright glow of their face, soft red resting on the apples of their cheeks. As the day quieted down, Toby slumped in the stroller as you tucked him into the car seat, his new plush crocodile cradled into his arms, mouth wide open as subtle breaths snored out.

Ella was cradled into Simon’s shoulder, her shoes half hanging off as she clutched onto him, dead asleep. You settled into the ride home yet your anxiety only seemed to heighten. You were alone with Simon, with no kiddish voices to break the tension, brown orbs glaring into the side of your face.

“Should we talk about this morning?”

You scoffed. “You have some nerve asking to talk about this morning,” you screamed into a hush, “What you did was completely disrespectful. Not only did you break into my house and kick my date out, but you left our kids in the car! What the fuck were you thinking?”

He cleared his throat, almost like he wanted to hold back how he felt. You noticed the white in his knuckles as he gripped the wheel, right eye twitching as he stared at the squiggles of tar ahead. “I don’t want our kids growing up thinking it’s normal for parents to separate. They need their mum and dad together, y/n.”

The world silenced for a second, the screams of the wind rushing past you seemed to slow as your voice cracked, seeps of emotion pouring out as you choked on your breath, “Then you should have fought for your family, Simon. There is no us anymore, it’s just them. They’re all that connects us now.”

You felt like all the ivory had been sucked out of your eyes, endless pits of your pupil consuming you whole, blurring your vision with fog as you blinked, hot streams of liquid salt spilling onto your cheeks, brimming at the cracks of your lips as you sniffled. You could feel his hesitation as he looked at you.

His words regurgitated in his throat as he stammered, tangled limbs reaching out to grip yours as you pulled away.

“Just drop us home.”

Your eyes had dried now, soft stains of bare skin caving through your foundation as you smudged your fingers against it. Simon stuttered as he pulled up to the driveway, tyres screeching to a halt as you sat in silence.

The soft strum of fingers caught your attention as you turned around, the innocent face of Toby looking back at his parents, tongue blabbing out of his mouth. “Dadda! You have dinner?”

“No, sport. Daddy’s gotta go-“

“Yeah, baby. Daddy will have dinner with us.”

You blinked at your own words, Simon’s surprised expression meeting yours. The wrench in your heart would never subside, the entirety of the beating organ still belonging to your ex-husband, but being a mother was a sacrifice. And you would sacrifice yourself in every existence you become one if it meant your children didn’t have to battle the same internal wounds.

“They’re tucked in,” Simon said, voice soft as he noticed your withered body in the couch. Your hair was messy now, strands spitting out as you anxiously tucked them back in, smoothing them down with the dampness of your palms as you ran around all night, ushering to the demands of your children.

“Thank you.”

You felt ill, your tongue cascading down your throat as you palmed at your knees, desperate for him to leave yet desperate for him to stay. Simon stilled, keys jangling in his hand before he sat down next to you, his weight disrupting the couch as he shuffled around.

“I need you to know that I did want to fight for you, y/n. I have counted every single day since you handed me those papers, waiting by my phone every single night on deployment hoping for you to text me, call me, fuck - blow my phone up. I never wanted the temporary absence that we had apart become permanent. Everything I said,” he breathed, voice cracking slightly as he looked away, “Everything I said on October 6th, 7 years ago, I meant. You weren’t supposed to get away from me - I shouldn’t have - I shouldn’t have let you get away from me.”

It was strange. Simon was never one for feelings, the brutality of his job allowed for any harsh emotions to crack through his fingers as he pulled a trigger, any dampness of tears would sweat through his skin as he pummelled a blade into an enemies head.

But it was you. And you weren’t violent, or any enemy, you were his wife, the person he vowed his entirety too.

Your anxious cascade cracked as you whimpered out a sob, chest heaving as you buried your face, tight with tears, into the pillows of your hands. You felt warmth spread through you, the texture of Simon’s fingers burning through you like wildfire, every ember he felt scorching through your flesh as he pulled you in.

Arms tangled together, intwining like wool as he wrapped you into his chest nimbly. A zephyr ran through you, your wrists clutched in his hands as you straddled him, the weight of you feeling like the grandest treasure upon him.

It was nothing strange, nor sexual but Simon recognised that cry, the differing pitch as you shuffled your frame into his. Simon knew you like the back of his hand, every crevice, every crease, every scar. He knew your backstory, and the one you made up to impress people. He knew the hex of the colour of your eyes and the print of your thumb. No papers would take that away from him.

Soaked eyelashes clumped into one as you looked up at him, orbs resembling once of a doe, innocence seeping through every inch of a salt-stained tear. His eyes met yours, apertures of cocoa reflecting your weary frame as you gripped onto him.

“Let me come home, please.”

Simon’s voice was desperate, it was raw, any shed of arrogance erased through the lines, eyebrows knotted together as he rubbed at the small of your back.

Your nod was subtle, but he could practically hear it, calloused hands gripping at the plush of your cheek and seeping through the tip of your spine, thumb rubbing at your earlobe as he clutched onto you.

Hot, seething pricks ran through your limbs as your lips connected, saline lining your mouth as he lapped at the heat of your tongue, rough groans leaving his lips as he savoured the taste.

Any diffidence left your body as familiarity sunk back into you. Hands pawed at the globe of your ass, gripping the flesh as anguished limbs wrapped around Simon’s waist.

With an easy tug, he lifted you, your hands wrapping around his neck as he pulled you in closer, teeth kissing. You never questioned Simon’s strength, and you wouldn’t start now as you felt your back hit your mattress.

He tugged at his shirt, the black fabric pooling on the floor as you sucked in a breath. Your eyes traced every scar, lighter flesh engraved into the skin of his torso, a short trail of hair disappearing into his pants as you stared at his burly physique.

Simon gripped at your shirt, the material practically ripping before his hands were at your chest, grabbing at your flesh desperately as you tangled your fingers into your bra, sliding it off. His mouth was hot on your chest, the sound of moans and pants filling the air as he positioned himself between your legs, teeth grazing the hard nubs, sucking with fervour as you whined, your hand at the base of his head, cradling it.

“Missed these so fucking much,” he practically whined, groping your tits as he pinched your nipples, lips sucking deep marks of possession into the soft skin. Your pants were desperate, begging him for more as you pulled his hair, fingernails clawing at his scalp.

Your hands fumbled with your pants, hips raising as he slid them off, clumsy fingers chucking them across the room as you laughed, lips connecting once more in a giggly state as his thumb pushed against the wetness of your panties.

“Missed how fucking wet you got for me. Such a good fucking girl,” he groaned, fingers rubbing at your heat through the thin cloth eliciting a pained moan from you.

“Simon - I need more, been so long.”

He choked out a laugh as his fingers hooked into the fabric, lace dribbling down your leg before he mewled at the sight of you. His hands held your thighs apart, your soaking cunt on display as it throbbed, slick folds glistening in the poor lighting.

“Prettiest fucking pussy,” he choked out to himself, placing your legs over his shoulder as he knelt down. Your back arched as you felt his tongue lick a long stripe of your pussy, his body seething for a taste of you as his lips found your neglected clit.

He lapped at you mercilessly, your cries and moans moulding into one with the filthy squelches of his mouth against your heat. Long digits circled your entrance, teasing you, before they curled in.

Your eyes rolled, pools of ivory exposed as you let out a guttural moan, your thighs tightening around his ears as he smirked against your pussy. Cocky fingers rubbed at the right spot, favouring the clench of your tight hole as he pulled every noise he could get from you.

You were barely cohesive as he lapped at your slick, the throbbing of your clit edging him on as he soothed your g-spot with the pad of his fingers. The coil you had only ever felt with Simon began to build, the familiar sensation pooling in your stomach as you stuttered out a whimper.

“Si- too much - I’m gonna-“

“That’s it baby,” he cooed, pulling away from your pussy for a second to take in your expression as you came, your face contorted with pleasure as your legs jerked, pussy wrapping tighter around his abusing digits as he fucked you through it with them. You looked down at him, saliva and your slick coating his mouth and chin as he grinned.

You stammered out a groan as his mouth attached back on your pussy, slurping up your liquid gold as you attempted to push his head away in overstimulation.

“Oh my- fuck - Simon - too much,” you whimpered your words commanding him to continue as he guzzled around your clit, teeth grazing the sensitive bud as your legs shook uncontrollably.

It wasn’t long before the continuation from your previous orgasm rose again, heat swarming your lower belly as you screamed out, your hand slapping over your mouth as you felt Simon’s spare hand wrap around your thigh, squeezing tightly.

You pulled at his hair, tugging at the ashy roots before you were gushing around his fingers and tongue again, sloshing liquids soaking your sheets as he groaned at the taste, mouth lapping it up with vigour. You whined in humiliation, the overwhelming pleasure becoming too much as you heaved.

“Si - no more -“

“I’m sorry baby, too fucking good. Will never get enough of your pussy.”

His words were filthy yet only held the truth, his continuous slurps against your heat causing your body to jerk as you relentlessly bucked your hips. Simon’s abuse continued on your pussy, your pussy gushing and coming another 6 times before he was satisfied, the sheet under you drenched in both your slick and squirt as Simon milked your overwhelmed cunt, claiming he was “making up for the months lost”.

You were dry heaving, throat dry as he captured your lips in a kiss, the taste of you infiltrating into your glands as you groaned, his hands reaching to tug at your breasts as he took in your fucked out state, legs jiggling and twitching as your pussy convulsed at the number of orgasms he dragged out of you.

You felt like you had been lying here for hours, yet you weren’t satisfied. You would only be content when he was inside you, stretching you to the brim as he pumped a load inside your worn-out hole.

“Simon - please - I can’t… I need you now,” you were practically crying, tears shedding at the brim of your eyes, bottom lip jutting out as he tucked a piece of your hair behind your ear, slicking back the sweat on your forehead.

“I know baby, done so well for Daddy, hm? Even after all that you still need to be plugged full of me don’t you?”

You nodded as a harsh slap landed against your clit, your body jolting as you squeaked. “Yes, please,” you cried, “Please Daddy.”

His hands were like clockwork, tearing at his jeans as they released his cock, a satisfied groan leaving his body as he gripped at the tent in his pants, a sticky wet patch soaking the material before his length throbbed out, angry tip slapping his stomach as a trail of precum glistened against the base of his cock.

His dick was flushed red, begging for release as he ran it through the squelch of your sopping folds, rubbing against your manipulated clit as you moaned.

Your hands gripped his head as he leant down to kiss you, his arm holding him up while the other positioned himself at your entrance. He stilled for a moment, cock almost pressing in before he whispered, “I love you.”

“I love you.”

The words were soft yet meaningful, your eyes interlocked as he began to push inside, your mouth gasping open as you clutched onto his shoulders. It was hard when you were together all those years to get accustomed to his frightening length, and now it had been a year and the stretch was searing through you.

“I know, sweet girl, you can take it. Such a tight cunt for me, so fucking good.”

Fingernails clawed at his back as he pushed in, your whines muffled by the palm of his hand as he held himself up his elbows. “Holy fuck,” he spluttered as he bottomed out, his lips connecting to your neck as he sucked, resting inside you for a second as you whimpered.

The burn slowly faded as you rutted against him impatiently, the tip of his cock resting against your sweet spot as you gasped.

“So fucking impatient, always been such a slut for me. Haven’t you?”

You nodded, whining as he began to move, moving his hips slowly as he rubbed inside you perfectly, your mouth wide open as your head lolled back. A series of expletives tipped from your tongue as you choked on the air, Simon’s pace picking up at your dramatic noises.

“Fuck - taking me so well-“ he grunted, hands groping at your tits as he watched your pussy absorb his length. It was an obscene sight and he loved it. Every fibre of your being belonged to him and it was something he constantly craved.

“All fucking mine - shit - my fucking pussy,” he grunted, thumb rubbing at your clit as you mewled, twitching below him as he spat, “my fucking wife - got the tightest fucking cunt just for me.”

You clenched around him at his words, knowing it was true as his balls slapped against your ass, skin spanking against each other as the sound filled the room, ecstasy roaring through both of your veins as you made love.

The squelch of your pussy was taboo as he lapped in the missed sound. His eyes took in the way your body reacted to every movement, no matter how small. He took in the way your breasts bounced with each thrust, lower stomach bulging as he pounded into you.

“Fuck - Simon - oh my God,” your words were a mere blabber, barely making sense as you clutched onto him, pulling him down to meet your lips.

“I can’t pull out, baby - fuck - gotta cum in this pretty pussy. Give you another kid, hm? - shit -“

His hips didn’t falter as his pace fastened, chasing his own high as he rubbed at your clit, your breaths growing shallow as your orgasm began to build. “Gonna fill you with my cum until it takes. Need your belly round again and your tits full - such a good fucking mum, makes me so fucking proud.”

His words were the final straw as the build up in your stomach popped, your whole body convulsing as your pussy clenched around him, a loud groan leaving his throat before you felt the hot splashes of his cum pumping inside you.

“That’s it baby, milk my cock. Such a good fucking girl for Daddy, gonna break you apart everyday on my cock until you never forget who you belong too.”

He didn’t pull out immediately, his cum plugged inside you as some seeped out, rolling down the crevice of your ass below you. Your eyes shut, gentle pants leaving your lips as you felt Simon’s absence before a soft cloth was wiped gently across your sex and masculine arms were gripping onto you, carrying you into the guest room before engulfing you into a thrill of heat, Simon’s chest against your back as you fell asleep.

TAGLIST: @kiiwiipie @nijiru

Disclaimer: im sorry if this is disappointing im super tired :(((

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kurogxrix · 2 years ago

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Clingy Mornings

Bruce Wayne x Wife!reader, Batboys x Batmom

IN WHICH your clinginess towards your husband never fails to disgust your sons.

WC: 1.5k

“And where'd you think you're going?” The sudden sound of your voice, albeit muffled partly by your pillow and sleepiness, startled your husband from his sitting place at the edge of your shared bed. You could barely even see with the morning grogginess clouding your iris, yet Bruce’s defined back muscles somewhat managed to break through your view.

Bringing a hand up to wipe at your eyes, you couldn’t help but relish in the sight of your husband’s fine muscles flexing as he turned to meet your eyes. The way his bicep laid there all deliciously as he tipped all of his body weight onto one arm, the other moving up to caress at your cheek lovingly. There was no denying the pure adoration that swam through his beautiful blue iris, they spoke for themselves.

“Well one of us has to be downstairs before Alfred decides that we’ve had enough sleeping time and barges into our room.” he chuckled slightly, a rare instance for The Batman, yet he’d only show this side when he was Bruce Wayne alongside you. His beautiful wife and mother of his children, adopted or not, they were yours. He had to force himself and resist the urge to chuckle as he watched your expression morph into a pout, your delicate hand pulling at his arm as you tried to get him back under the sheets with you.

“Cmon Bruce, just a few more minutes.” you pleaded, tiredness still evident in your voice but it progressively faded the more you stayed up begging your husband to fall asleep with you again. Your hopes spike as Bruce laid behind you for a second, but the fact that he was laying on his forearm and elbow immediately crushed all of your hopes. His warm palm never left your cheek once, making you snuggle deeper into the palm that was just as big as your face.

“I’d love to, trust me. But are you sure that you don’t want to see those demons of yours before they leave?” Of course he’d do that, of course Bruce would use your beloved children as bait for you to accompany him downstairs and finally leave the bed. You grunted something along the lines of ‘well then you better carry me’ in the crook of his neck as you threw your arms around his shoulders. This time Bruce couldn’t resist chuckling as he grabbed you delicately by the hips, hosting you onto his lap as he stood up from the plush mattress.

Bruce hadn’t complained once about your clinginess. Truth to be told you’d been like this since the night before because you had rarely seen your beloved Bruce for nearly a whole ass week. It wasn’t unusual that you both wouldn’t see each other, on days that you’d be busy with work and on nights that the city’s menaces just wouldn’t rest. But recently everything had just been too much, too many meetings, too many villains and yet not enough time.

You winced as his hands came to lay across the bruises that now decorated your hips, two huge hand marks engraved into your skin as a remnant of the previous night. Needless to say that the reunion sex had you reaching for the stars, and the faint ache between your legs was a constant reminder of just what Bruce’s perfect girth could do to you.

Your husband moved his hands with expertise as he descended the stairs, having only one hand under your ass to support your weight as the other laid along your back. You weren’t even concerned about a potential fall, because your husband did happen to be Batman, and his strength was unmeasured to your body weight. No matter what it was.

Dick had been the first to notice his father walk into the living room, not that it was hard to notice him considering the absolute unit of a man that your 6’4 husband was. Your eldest son was perched up on the sofa, a bowl full of cereal and milk as the TV played in the background. He froze at first, unable to see you from your buried position in Bruce’s chest. Dick was afraid that you’d walk in shortly after you dear husband and start ripping one off on your son for eating on your couch, because even as the grown ass man that he now was, Dick was the messiest eater that you’d ever seen.

Though luckily for him that never came because it seemed like you had better plans, which included being stuck all day to your husband. No exaggeration. He watched in amusement as Bruce sat down amongst his children on the sofa, Damian not even displaying an ounce of attention towards his father as his eyes strained on the TV. could tell that it was a lazy morning for the both of you, even if Bruce claimed that it wasn’t for him. He had been clearly too bothered to dress before going down, instead clad in nothing but a pair of black boxers that he’d quickly thrown on in the morning. His warm, bare skin brought warmth against your clothed one, making you cling to him even harder than you previously were.

Dick couldn’t help the smile growing upon his lips as he noticed the way your hands were clamped tightly around Bruce’s neck alongside the way your legs caged his waist. Like a clingy koala, he thought.

You’d not moved from your position upon arrival, and at first your children could’ve thought that you were sleeping, and that Bruce was the clingy one after having snatched you from the comfort of your bed to snuggle with you downstairs on the couch.

Although they quickly found their assumptions to be wrong as they watched Bruce hand move up to your lower back, rubbing it adoringly before he gently tapped you to move and cuddle his side so he could eat. The bowl of cereal that he’d quickly grabbed from Alfred sat on the table staring at him, and his stomach was yelling for it.

You squeezed in between Bruce and Damian as you climbed off your husband's lap, offering him the limited space that he’d get for the rest of the week. By all means you were still cuddled up to his side, an arm wrapped around his bicep as you rested your head on his bulging muscles.

In the back of your mind, you heard a little voice telling you that this morning was all too weird. Why? Because the living room was far too silent for it to harbour all four of your children at once in. Maybe If you’d both been a little more aware you would’ve caught the sight of Jason trying and desperately failing in his attempts of ‘secretly’ snapping a picture of you both since the moment you’d walked in.

Bruce could be sure that in a few hours he’d get a ping from his phone and a bunch of notifications about some sort of instagram post that your son has posted about the seemingly intimidating Bruce Wayne cuddling up to his wife. The caption would read ‘Bruce Wayne has gone soft, nobody is safe from the softpocalypse anymore’, but you didn’t know that as of now.

Maybe you’d catch sight of that devilish grin adorning your youngest’s face, yet again that was nothing new. Or maybe you would have been able to notice the way Tim would often part from his beloved cup of coffee to check if Jason got the right angle. Although Bruce would admit later on that there’s no shame in showing some well deserved love to your spouse, he’d most definitely ground them all for playing this little ‘prank’ on him.

You slowly returned in Bruce’s embrace after watching whatever idiotic movie that Dick had put on for god knows how long. Bruce’s bowl now empty and sitting on the coffee table before you. You took it as a sign that you could retake your spot within his arms, and your brooding husband didn’t even complain once as you got comfortable. With your face now buried in the warmth of his neck once again, you couldn’t help yourself but to give him a chaste kiss here and there.

“In front of my coffee.” you paused your movements at the disgusted tone in Tim’s words, effectively getting your other son’s to turn towards you both. You relished in their disgusted disagreeing, carefree laughter escaping you while blocking whatever sound came from the TV. You watched as your boys all left the room one by one to go on with their days, claiming that they can’t stand you two being ‘too in love’ because it was far too disgusting.

A solid minute after the room regained its original silence, save for the soft sounds of the movie still playing, Bruce allowed himself to relax in your arms. He slid down the sofa in a lazy position, keeping you tightly trapped in his embrace as he rested his head above yours. Hands regaining their comforting motions above your back, a rare and cocky smile graced Bruce’s face. Now that the whole mansion knew that you both were up and going, all in your ‘disgusting’ clinginess, he could only guess when the next person who dared to walk upon you both would come and disturb you.

Hope my bruce girlies eat this shit up. also this is UNEDITED😔

#bruce wayne x reader #jason todd x reader #dick grayson x reader #damian wayne x reader #tim drake x reader #batmom #batboys #batboys x reader #batboys x batmom #batfam x reader #bruce wayne fluff #batboys fluff

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supercutszns · 1 year ago

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Luke x reader where a girl, daughter of Aphrodite, flirts with him and insults the reader, causing her to avoid Luke, but later he manages to find her and confesses that he actually likes them... I don't know if they should already be together or not, but I believe in you!!! you write very well :ooo

Sorry if the idea is bad or you wouldn't want to write something like that, if that's the case please pretend you never read this 🤡🤡🫶

true colours; luke castellan

wc + pairing: 3.6k, luke castellan x child of iris! reader

synopsis: everyone wants luke castellan, including you. curse your mother for getting your hopes up.

warnings: friends to lovers, reader is very insecure, bullying, lee fletcher & will solace cameo!! some angst with a fluffy ending

notes: thank you for the request!! as always this is longer than i anticipated but hope you like it :) i also combined it with another request for a child of iris reader (i also identify as a child of iris sometimes so i lovee writing for them) also i’m pretty sure lee + a lot of parts of this are ooc sorry but i havent read the books in about a year so hopefully everything’s fairly accurate!🌈

You knew this summer would be different because your mother sent her wishes twice as much. On the first day of July, when children flood into Camp Half-Blood like a hive of wild bees, a rainbow always lights up the sky.

This year, there were two.

As a child of Iris you’re technically supposed to be in the Hermes cabin. But your love for art, for music, for fun, has made you a particular favourite of the Apollo cabin. Most of your friends are there. They tolerate you singing in your soft, often unsure voice. They love when you catch sunlight and filter it into prisms of colour on their cabin walls.

You’d probably move in there permanently if it weren’t for Hermes. Or rather, his son.

Over the last few months, in the sticky summer heat, your mother knew you would fall in love.

It's not any surprise you love Luke. Everyone loves Luke. A fact that's becoming more obvious every passing day.

It used to bother you less. You’ve always been his meagre, hopeless friend, never any real competition to these girls. You’d basically taken yourself out of the running and instead decided to pine after him in the very back of your mind. A safe, deluded fantasy that would never happen.

Until recently, where it seems less like a fantasy and more like a terrifying possibility.

Over the past few weeks Luke has gone out of his way to be sweet to you. Or at least you think so. He’s spent extra time talking to you at lunch, laughing at your half-formed jokes almost in earnest. At bonfires he saves you a seat, grabs you a marshmallow on occasion. You even made him a friendship bracelet of sorts—admittedly a little ugly—but he’s never taken it off. Not since the day you gave it to him.

Not to mention helping you last week before the archery competition. His hands lingering over yours as he steadied your bow, the curls of his breath on the back of your neck when he stood behind you.

“Don’t be nervous,” he says, a tinge of mirth in his voice. “You just steady your aim and first is as good as yours.”

(You came in fifteenth.)

You don’t want to say that it’s him weakening your aim, making your pulse beat out of your neck. His nose brushes against the back of your jaw as he leans forward and you smell the pine on his skin. Is this friendly? Is he this close on purpose? Are you delusional?

It’s all you’ve been thinking about these past few days. So when Luke Castellan’s endless admirers come to the forefront of your mind, you feel like all those moments of potential buildup have been ripped away.

“You alright there, sunshine?”

He takes you out of your spiral with a teasing lilt you love. When you look at him, his face is a shimmering warmth, complete with boyish smile.

“Yep,” you reply, trying to ignore the nickname making your insides flutter even though you know he’s saying it ironically.

You’ve always had a gift for identifying colour. It’s the thing you pay attention to most. Something inherited from your mother, you suppose. So you’ve memorized the way Luke’s eyes melt in the sunlight. How his scar blends with his pinking cheeks when it’s hot outside. You never told him, and you probably never will, but you’ve painted him from memory quite a few times in the Apollo cabin—always with the excuse that you were practicing. It's so blatantly obvious you're in love with him there's no point in your friends bringing it up.

The two of you are meandering around camp before dinner, a tradition Luke started early on in the summer. You talk about high points of your day (mostly you) or share nuggets of gossip you’ve heard around camp (mostly him). It's the thing you looked forward to every morning. A time when his words are just for you.

Idle chatter flows as you keep walking. Sometimes your arm brushes his and you have the embarrassing urge to tug yours away. You do your best not to stare at him too long or laugh too loud at his jokes.

“Hey, Castellan!” Someone calls.

Luke’s head turns. Your heart plummets. A beautiful girl, Aphrodite cabin, you think, is heading towards you. She’s all honey-spun hair and dazzling pink lips, and it’s obvious she knows it. You don’t know her name. But Luke does.

They fall into conversation the second she arrives. It’s just greetings, pleasantries, but there’s a coy smile on the girl’s face that betrays any sense of disinterest. “Heard you’re not too keen on pairing up with us for the Chariot Race next week. What gives?” Her tone is pouty and playful as she taps Luke’s shoulder. She side-eyes you, lips curling imperceptibly. “I’m sure you’ll have a better chance with us.”

He lets out a strained chuckle. “Dunno, just thought it was fine to switch it up.”

Just like that, you’re out of the loop again. More of her friends flock after her, and soon Luke is tangled in a whole other world. They’re all glowing with a kind of righteousness you only get when you’re popular. You know Luke has friends, tons of them. He's the leader of the cabin with the most campers. Not to mention assertive and gorgeous. His presence is so inviting it’s a challenge not to fall in love with him.

So you can’t blame this girl, the one that keeps touching his arm and giggling. It’s not like you’ve staked your claim on Luke—no one even knows you exist. As much as you want him to be yours, you know you’ll never stop someone from taking him first. It’s your fatal flaw, you think. Cowardice.

You end up sidelined completely. Watching him swathed in people more charismatic than you plants an ache deep inside you. All your wishful thinking feels sour now, a pipe dream, a bedtime story to help you sleep better. Somehow it hurts more knowing that it’s nobody’s fault but yours. These people can’t be doing this on purpose. It’s just who they are. It’s who you are—always a step behind, always daydreaming. You are your mother’s daughter, after all. Just a prism reflecting everyone around you.

Eventually, one of the boys in the group takes notice of you. He’s not nearly as captivating as Luke is—you don’t find the colours of his eyes hold as much depth. There’s also a haughtiness when he looks at you. He sneers, “What the hell do you have on your face?”

It draws the attention of others in the group. You feel like a naked sculpture in an art gallery. “Uh, what?” You stammer.

Some of them purse their lips. The girl with Luke lets a laugh slip. You’re pretty sure you look like an idiot, waiting there with your brows wrinkled in a daze. Their gazes keep flicking over to your cheek, so your hand flies up there before you can delay any more. When you press your fingers to the side of your face, they come away tacky and pink. Mortification constricts you.

Paint. It’s leftover, half-dried paint. The colour of Luke’s cheeks in the sun.

“Oh,” you say dumbly. It’s drowned by snickers. All you can do is find Luke, the only face you know, and ask, “Why didn’t you tell me?” without sounding too hurt.

You know you failed when your voice comes out wrong and his ebony brows push together. “I thought it looked—”

He never gets to finish because the golden girl laughs a little louder, the pink tones in her face a little darker. “Oh my Gods, you’re that Iris kid that’s always singing, right?” She giggles sharply, cornflower eyes darting between her friends. There’s something in there you can’t quite pick up on, until it flushes the pupils of all her friends, and they all grin with a secret knowledge they want you to see. “You’re, like, really good!” The girl simpers, but her bottom lip pulls between her teeth to soften another laugh.

“Oh, so good!” Another friend piles on.

Their passive-aggressive chuckles start to sound like hail on a window. You shift further away from them. Dirt slides beneath your shoe, and you long to kick up more of it, displace yourself, disappear.

You don’t look at Luke. The giggly, flaxen girl has already turned back to him, and you’re sure he’s enthralled once more. You try to stir up the image of Luke’s closeness during archery practice, the lilac bruise on his knuckles when he angled your bow, but it doesn’t take. Now, it feels like you’ve dreamed it.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Luke leaning down to catch a whisper from the Aphrodite girl’s ear. The boy that first commented on your cheek leans closer to you again. He’s suffocatingly smug when he grins, “Why are you still here? Shouldn’t you go … wash that off? You don’t want to look like that at dinner.” He snorts. “For an Iris kid, you really aren’t good at taking a message.”

If you were a more confident person, maybe you’d point out how that didn’t really make sense, or how stupid it sounded coming out of his mouth. But the sentiment of it wounds you, and you’re weak enough as is.

"Guess you're right," you mumble. You wipe your face of paint as you leave. The memory of Luke’s skin stains you until you wash your hands off in the sink.

You haven’t talked to him since.

It’s been a few days of you avoiding him, and it’s hard to explain to anyone why you’ve been doing it. How do you tell the truth? Luke Castellan is a work of art and you are … a weird doodle, or something. Despite your adoration, you know there’s no reason he should feel the same for you. Everyone loves him for a reason. Everyone must ignore you for one, too.

“Why haven’t you been talking to Luke?”

The question breaks your concentrated silence in the Apollo cabin. You’ve been sitting here for a while now, humming to yourself over a mostly blank canvas. The cabin is dusted with a lilac haze, thanks to your manipulation of the light streaming through the windows. Helps you feel less like you’re at camp and more like you’re in a fairytale.

“Helloooo, lady, I asked you a question.”

You begrudgingly look up. Lee Fletcher, head of the Apollo cabin, is at the mouth of the cabin, gazing at all your supplies strewn about the floor like they’re a bunch of unsavoury substances. “It looks like a hurricane came in here. Now why aren’t you talking to Luke?”

“How do you know I’m not talking to him?” You mutter as Lee sits beside you.

“Uh, because you’ve been sleeping here multiple nights in a row and you never do that. And you don’t sit with him at dinner. And whenever we see him you drag me in the other direction—”

“Lee!”

“I’m just saying, you should probably talk about it. My beautiful voice can heal wounds, yes, but not of the heart.” He splays a hand across his chest in mock theatrics.

You don’t say anything. The familiar weight of the brush against your fingertips is far more comforting than trying to talk, so you busy yourself with your canvas again. “He waits for you, you know,” Lee continues, quieter. “In the morning. And before dinner. He always asks if you’re here.”

“Oh,” you say, and your wavering voice betrays your expression. But you think of everyone else at camp, their gleaming smiles and their celebrated parents, their own cabins and friends and dreams, how you don’t seem to have any of those. You think of the girl whispering in Luke’s ear. All her shades of beauty. You know it’s wrong to compare yourself, to be jealous. You’re just … sad.

The cabin darkens from a lilac to an imperceptibly gloomier shade. A blue sort of longing gets caught in your throat, blurring the colours on your canvas. But you keep your brush steady, focused on the scratch of its bristles so you don’t have to hear what you say next.

“I think I love him, Lee.” And then, “But I don’t think he loves me.”

There’s no sound except the scraping of your brush when it’s run out of paint, and a sniffle when a tear rolls down your cheek.

“Oh,” Lee fills the silence the way you did just moments before. Then he says your name, laced with pity, and hugs you on the floor of his lavender cabin.

“You want to help me lead the bonfire song tonight?” He asks after a minute. “Or at least … come to the bonfire song?”

“No to the first, yes to the second.”

You wish you said no to both.

The spot you choose after dinner is right next to the fire so you can distract yourself with the golden flecks of flame. Fire is so fluid, so complex, from a colour perspective. But no matter how close you get, the searing warmth can’t hide Luke’s gaze peering over the embers.

He will not. Stop. Looking at you.

The singing from the Apollo kids usually soothes you but tonight it’s just making you anxious. All this attention so close to you. Will Solace has been sitting next to you this whole time, your unofficial assigned companion for the night thanks to Lee. One of his siblings beckons him over, and he shoots you an apologetic look, hesitating. "Just go," you wave off kindly. "It's all good." He's not entirely convinced, and you aren't either, but he squeezes your shoulder with thanks and leaves you anyway.

Now you’re acutely aware the space next to you is wide open. And so is Luke, it seems. There’s an awkward moment where your gazes slide over each other and he weaves out of his current crowd towards you. So you do the most mature, sound thing you could possibly do in this situation:

You say you have to go to the bathroom to no one in particular and get out of there.

It’s dark, but you’ve got sharper eyes than most. Soon the noise of the campfire is behind you. You traipse through the camp towards the bathroom,but you don’t get far before you hear something that makes your stomach drop in the worst and best way.

Luke, calling your name.

At first you think you can get away with not hearing him. Then he calls a second, a third, a fourth time, punctuated with, “Come on, I know you can hear me, can you just turn around?”

He’s got longer legs than you so the next time he speaks it’s practically in your ear. “Hey, just look at me. Please. I want to talk to you.”

There’s something so tender in his voice that it makes you cave immediately. But you already feel so fragile, you can feel the tears behind your eyes. You know you won’t have the strength to talk to him.

His hand curls gently around your wrist and it sends warmth all the way up your arm. He says your name again, softer, and you love the way it sounds. You can’t meet his eyes, but you already know what he looks like. Even in the dark you picture him crystal clear.

“Look at me,” he repeats. “I just—I need to know what I did wrong.”

His dark eyes are full and apprehensive when you heed him. You notice how much you’ve missed studying his face—the slight bunch of his brows, the tensing in his jaw. And you almost delude yourself that he’s missed you just as much, the way he squeezes your wrist and rakes over your expression.

“Why are you ignoring me?” He asks.

“I’m not—”

“You are. I know you. Just tell me why.”

He looks so sweet, so earnest, and it kills you. You think of the way he looked when all his friends made fun of you. It all comes up before you can help it.

“Do you always let me walk around looking like an idiot?” You ask bitingly, staring at the floor. “The thing, with the paint on my cheek—why didn’t you tell me? I looked so stupid and all your friends just laughed at me!”

His face falls. “I tried to tell you, I thought—”

“It’s okay to say you don’t like me, or that you’re embarrassed, or whatever, but I …” You swallow, tears thick on your lower lashes. “Everyone makes fun of me. I don’t know why you don’t.”

“Because I do like you,” he states, hand moving up to your forearm.

“Don’t say that,” you whisper. “You’re so much … better, you know you are, and I don’t want your pity, or your spare time. I just—I made something up in my head that wasn’t there and I only noticed it the other day after you talked to that girl and that guy made fun of me and I’m really, really sorry—”

“It looked cute. I was trying to say I didn’t tell you about the paint because I thought it was cute.”

There’s a lull.

“What?” You blink stupidly.

“I know I should’ve told you about it, but I swear I was going to before dinner, I didn’t think we’d run into anyone before then.” His cheeks tinge red. “I had this whole dumb thing planned out where I’d wipe it off your cheek and tell you how cute it was once you got embarassed. I was waiting to tell you. I was thinking about it the whole time.”

His hand on your arm is a frighteningly grounding thing. You're dumbstruck by that alone. Your lips part, but all that comes out is, “Why?”

A gentle laugh tumbles out of his throat. “Why do you think?”

His other hand comes up to brush your cheekbone, where the paint had been, and you can imagine him doing it to you on that day. How you'd probably react just the way he said you would, the way you are now. A warm orange glow blooming in your chest. “But the girl—”

“She tried whispering to me how much she liked my bracelet,” he smiles fondly. “Told her you made it for me. It shut her up. I don’t know what that guy said to you but I chewed ‘em all out the second you left. They knew I wasn’t happy. I tried looking for you but you were gone. I don't like them, you know."

You don’t know what to say. It’s too difficult, too uncertain for you to jump the gun on this. So you just stare at all the shifting colours on his face as he moves closer to you. All this time going over his every detail, and there's still more to be enthralled by.

“I found the paintings,” he says, voice so close you can feel it brushing your skin. “The ones of me. I was looking for you in the Apollo cabin a week ago and you left one out. I knew it was yours because ... I mean, there’s no one in the world that can make me look that … beautiful.”

The last word is apprehensive but it’s spoken with an unimaginable tenderness. He looks a little teary himself. You think you’re dreaming. “I knew I had to tell you after that. I’ve been trying to tell you. But you started pulling away from me so I thought I was making it all up.”

“Tell me what?” It’s a ghost of a question between you, an impossible thing, but the hand on your arm slips around to your back and he presses it there with such certainty.

“You’re really gonna make me say it?” He cocks his head, but you nod. “I’m in love with you, I think.”

The words cascade over you in ribbons of warmth. Your brain feels fuzzy, seperate from the rest of your body. Your mouth opens multiple times but you can’t seem to control what comes out. “Luke, are you joking?”

“Not even a little.”

“But you’ve got so many other—”

“I want you.”

“I am literally the most incompetent person alive; I can’t sing, I can’t talk to people, I have a weird knee—”

"Your knee is fine!"

"I'm just saying, this makes no sense from an outsider perspective, it's—"

“Okay, clearly the telling thing isn’t working so I guess I’m just gonna have to kiss you.”

It happens so quickly you don’t have any time to think (probably for the better). You let out a surprised “oh” before his mouth silences you, stopping every other thought. He’s gentle, thumb still rubbing your cheekbone, other hand still firm at your waist. You want to panic—where should you put your hands? How do you know you’re doing this right? But he steadies you, the way he always does, and you give in.

He starts to smile against your lips. You’re almost positive the intensity of your heartbeat could summon a storm. When he pulls away, he kisses the corners of your mouth and you think you’re going to evaporate. “I don’t think I’m very good at this,” you whisper.

“You’re perfect.” He grins a little when your hands tentatively tug at a curl on the nape of his neck. “And none of that stuff you say is true. I mean, you’re definitely a better singer than me.”

Leaning close to your ear, he warbles out a song you know but gets the words horribly wrong anyways. You can’t help but laugh. “Okay, maybe you have a point.”

He hums and chuckles with you. You swear the moon gets brighter when he wraps his arms around your waist to kiss the side of your face. “Next time you paint me, I want to be there when you do it.”

You blush harder than you ever have in your life. “Only if you try painting me,” you say quietly.

“Of course. You’re very pretty, so I’m sure my horrible artistic skills won’t even make you look bad.”

Luke lets you press your face into the crook of his neck. You soak it up for all it’s worth.

In the morning, you wake up in the same position. Your nose tucked against his collarbone, the shade of pink you love freckled across his cheeks. You can't wait to paint him again.

When you look out the window, you say a silent, grateful prayer to your mother.

She's given you two more rainbows.

#perrie’s fics #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan #charlie bushnell #perrie's requests #pjo #pjo x reader #pjo fic #luke castellan fic #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan fluff #percy jackson and the olympians #pjo tv show #heroes of olympus #percy jackson

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tinycoffeeroom · 10 months ago

Text

you and i | lando norris

face claim: bela juliana ♡

request: here !

pairing: lando norris x leclerc!reader

requested: Can I request a social media AU leclerc reader x lando based off of the song ‘You and I’ by Rita Ora Thanks so muchhhhh

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liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris and 679,154 others

y/nleclerc oh to be the girl someone writes love stories about

fan I WILL!!!!! give me 10 minutes and garage band i can pull it off!!! ♥️ y/nleclerc

alexandrasaintmleux every love song is about you gorgeous girl x ↳ y/nleclerc when are you gonna stop pretending you like my brother and just date me instead x ↳ charles_leclerc ?? rude.

landonorris d4vd is so good! can't wait for his show in london :)

lewishamilton pipe is right there 😉 ↳ y/nleclerc that is NOT a love song sir lewis hamilton!!!! ↳ charles_leclerc back off grandpa i will put sand in your petrol tank ↳ lewishamilton woah calm down there bud i was joking i promise ↳ y/nleclerc play nice boys ↳ charles_leclerc he started it ↳ y/nleclerc well stop, i dont want ferrari in my dm's telling me y'all are throwing hands on the grid ↳ georgerussell63 if they do, can someone film it? ↳ y/nleclerc ffs

carmenmmundt prettiest girl in the whole wide world 🩷 ↳ y/nleclerc MWAH MWAH MWAH love you carm 💜

francisca.c.gomes getting ed sheeran on the case rn ↳ y/nleclerc i still bawl my eyes out to cold coffee nearly daily ↳ pierregasly really y/n? ed sheeran? ↳ y/nleclerc ok mr listens to crazy frog when he thinks no one can hear

fan lando being the only one y/n airs everytime ☠️ ↳ fan feel bad for him at this point 😭 ↳ fan y/n you want a lover boy, he is RIGHT THERE

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y/nleclerc uploaded 3 pictures to their story

[caption: y/nnies song recs of the day] replies:

charles_leclerc need to find you a boyfriend immediately so you'll stop posting sappy songs on ig ↳ y/nleclerc as long as its not one of your colleagues ↳ charles_leclerc whats wrong with them? :((( ↳ y/nleclerc i hear enough about cars from you i dont need it from them too

landonorris iris is a certified BANGER

heidiberger wanna go get coffee?? i need you to give me new songs for my danny playlist ↳ y/nleclerc y'all are so gross but yesssss ↳ heidiberger i think you misspelt cute 😋

fan y/n can i recommend turning page by sleeping at last? i'm not sure if you have it on your playlist already ❤️ ↳ y/nleclerc team edward FOR LIFE!!!! was one of the songs that got me into my lover girl era ❤️❤️

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liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris and 607,285 others

y/nleclerc garden party with my favourite leclerc saint mleux ❤️

charles_leclerc wow i see how it is... ↳ y/nleclerc not my fault your son is cuter than you ↳ oscarpiastri aw i knew you thought i was cute 🥰🥰 ↳ y/nleclerc the cutest piastri-leclerc! come round for tea soon, i miss my nephew x ↳ oscarpiastri will you make that pasta dish again? ↳ y/nleclerc i will just for you! ↳ landonorris osc save some for me please ↳ oscarpiastri get your own y/n this ones mine ↳ landonorris just you wait

fan the adoption is going strong i see ↳ fan i think y/ns the biggest instigator for it 😭

alexandrasaintmleux am i your favourite saint mleux? 🥺 ↳ y/nleclerc always x

landonorris leo!! miss my little man ↳ fan day 2947 of y/n airing lando ↳ fan leave him be, his little crush is cute

arthurleclerc if leo's your favourite leclerc saint mleux, am i your favourite leclerc? ↳ y/nleclerc not even close, that spot is for maman only ↳ leclerc_pascale 🥰🥰

fan where's the dress from?? its so gorgeous!! ↳ y/nleclerc it's from a little boutique in monaco! let me see if i can find some alternatives online 💜 ↳ fan my queen thank you!!!

fan oh to be at a garden party with the leclercs...

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charles_leclerc uploaded to their story

replies:

fan you and alex are so cute ↳ charles_leclerc 😉🤫 ↳ fan what does that mean im scared

fan alex was wearing a floor length dress,, whomstdve is THAT mr leclerc?

arthurleclerc i don't like the way he was looking at her ↳ charles_leclerc don't you dare say anything ↳ arthurleclerc you want.. lando???? to date our sister ↳ charles_leclerc oh he's absolutely smitten, it's cute

y/nleclerc is... is that me and lando? ↳ charles_leclerc you guys looked so cute i couldn't help it ↳ y/nleclerc stalker alert!!! ↳ charles_leclerc deflect all you want, i know you liiiike him ↳ y/nleclerc 🙄🙄

landonorris mate can you send me this please? ↳ charles_leclerc yeah sure 😉

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liked by landonorris, charles_leclerc and 679,253 others

y/nleclerc i believe the kids call it serving cunt

alexandrasaintmleux most gorgeous girl in the whole wide world 🩷 ↳ y/nleclerc come give me a kiss xx

charles_leclerc ??!!!?!?!?!???!!!! text me rn!! ↳ y/nleclerc i'm busy ↳ charles_leclerc i have a key to your flat, i'm not afraid to use it ↳ y/nleclerc damn ok so needy

arthurleclerc and who is that. ↳ y/nleclerc why do you wanna know? ↳ arthurleclerc oh god its Him isn't it? ↳ y/nleclerc you say that like its a bad thing 😭 ↳ arthurleclerc it is

fan UMMM??? 3rd pic???? deets please miss y/n ↳ y/nleclerc if all goes well, i'll give you all a full debrief

fan MOTHERRRRRRRRRRR

fan never mind the man DATE ME!!!! ↳ alexandrasaintmleux ^^ ↳ lilymhe ^^ ↳ lilyzneimer ^^ ↳ alexalbon charles stop bringing your sister to races i dont know if i can fight PLEASE ↳ y/nleclerc you would lose with those lanky arms wimp

fan poor lando in the likes... watching the girl he fancies go on a date with someone else ↳ fan how do you know he fancies her? ↳ fan he's constantly in her comments even if she airs him, he gets the goo goo eyes whenever she's near and don't even get me started on hungary 2022 ↳ fan ... please continue ↳ fan ok SO! she was in the paddock before the race and some guy came up to her and was asking her for a photo and then he asked her on a date ??? like dude use critical thinking skills for one second ... lando was across the paddock with daniel and there's a photo of him somewhere staring DAGGERS into this mans soul... charles came over and shooed the man away and lando literally deflated.. i'll see if i can find the photos ↳ fan tag me in them please ↳ fan me too! ↳ fan me three!! ↳ charles_leclerc me four!! ↳ fan CHARLES???

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y/nleclerc uploaded to their story

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liked by landonorris, charles_leclerc and 708,256 others

y/nleclerc flowers from lover (?) boy :)

fan oh she's down Bad ♥️ y/nleclerc

fan guys dont call me delusional but i think she's dating a driver ↳ fan charles would burn the world down before he would let that happen ↳ fan i gotta say... they have a point, remember when they did that tiktok where they asked drivers who they would introduce their sisters to on the grid and charles said lando immediately ↳ fan and then they did the f2 gang and arthur threatened to kamikaze anyone who tried to go near y/n? ↳ fan going off the comments i'm putting 2 and 2 together and getting 4 ↳ y/nleclerc ironic ↳ fan Y/N??????

fan pls show us lover boy its been 84 years i am begging you ↳ y/nleclerc it's been like 3 months silly but soon :)

charles_leclerc i know i should feel sick seeing you so happy but it's nice to see you be treated how you deserve ↳ y/nleclerc charlie 🥺 ↳ alexandrasaintmleux he's giggling and kicking his feet rn ↳ charles_leclerc wow ↳ fan ik he's picked out a suit for the imaginary wedding ↳ charles_leclerc i reject that statement ↳ alexandrasaintmleux it's bookmarked on his laptop

landonorris pretty flowers! ↳ y/nleclerc thank you :)

fan ???!!!!! SHE REPLIED TO LANDO???? ↳ fan i know he's squealing rn ↳ fan adding it to my "y/nlando dating REAL" spreadsheet ↳ fan omg share the link ↳ charles_leclerc yeah share the link ↳ fan this feels like confirmation but we all know charles lives for the drama

leclerc_pascale don't forget to bring him to the garden party tonight! ↳ fan another one? ↳ y/nleclerc we do them quite often in summer!! it's an excuse to drink champagne at 3 in the afternoon ↳ fan ur so real for that

carmenmmundt lover boy 😔 that should be me ↳ y/nleclerc i've got two hands for a reason babygirl x

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y/nleclerc uploaded 3 pictures to their story

[caption 3: lover boy (no ? this time)] replies:

landonorris lover girl ❤️ ↳ y/nleclerc lover boy ❤️

charles_leclerc photo creds? ↳ y/nleclerc nope!

alexandrasaintmleux its not too late to run away with me x ↳ y/nleclerc meet me at the port at midnight, we can steal charles' boat xx ↳ alexandrasaintmleux y/n it's charles i will bomb the port. ↳ y/nleclerc oh you're Crazy crazy ↳ alexandrasaintmleux only for her ↳ y/nleclerc gross... put my gf back on the phone

fan the sign 🥹 we need to know all the deets ↳ y/nleclerc all i will say is he gave me a mixtape :))))) ↳ fan A MIXTAPE??? LIKE A PHYSICAL MIXTAPE??? oh we stan

fan WHO !!! IS !!! LOVER BOY !!! ↳ y/nleclerc all will be revealed soon ;)

arthurleclerc maybe he has rights ↳ y/nleclerc shush you love him ↳ arthurleclerc thats before he started fancying 🤢 you 🤢

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liked by landonorris, charles_leclerc and 789,502 others

y/nleclerc he may not be able to write me love songs, but his voice is my favourite melody ❤️

fan we've officially lost her boys 💔💔

carmenmmundt just looked at george and sighed ↳ georgerussell63 ?? why am i catching strays?? ↳ lilymhe me with alex ↳ alexalbon what he say fuck me for?

fan lover girl x lover boy era <333333 ♥️ y/nleclerc

fan guys that's lando's necklace i'm like 99.9% sure ↳ fan you're onto something there lemme look at pap pics from the last race!

fan guys the flowers are orange... papaya even...

landonorris the guy sure likes his bouquets ↳ y/nleclerc yeah he's a real romantic 😋 ↳ fan WHERE'S THE FAN WITH THE SPREADSHEET ↳ fan I'M HERE !!!!! typing as fast as my fingers can handle!!!!

alexandrasaintmleux just so you know charles is crying at the caption ↳ y/nleclerc big softie x ↳ charles_leclerc i just have a lot of feelings :(((((

arthurleclerc i will allow him to live another day ↳ y/nleclerc i'm sure he's shivering his timbers rn ↳ arthurleclerc >:((((

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👤 landonorris liked by landonorris, alexandrasaintmleux and 903,185 others

y/nleclerc lover boy x

fan miss rabbit has fainted

fan spreadsheet fan we just got a HUGE update ↳ fan i'm gonna break my laptop in 2 with my bare hands

charles_leclerc :))))) my scheme worked ↳ y/nleclerc i still hate when you do that shit ↳ alexandrasaintmleux same 🙄

landonorris lover girl x ♥️ y/nleclerc

landonorris so gorgeous, i love the way you look tonight xx ↳ y/nleclerc you said the same thing the night we danced together 🥺 ↳ landonorris i meant it then and i mean it now x

mclaren scuderiaferrari we stole your girl xx ↳ scuderiaferrari you and your ugly colours can get BACK 🤺🤺🤺 ↳ fan the girls are fighting!! ↳ mclaren UGLY COLOURS??? oh its on

carlossainz55 now he'll stop blowing up my phone about you ↳ landonorris nah now i can just annoy you about how cute my GIRLFRIEND is ↳ oscarpiastri you've been dying to say that, haven't you? ↳ landonorris mate i thought i was going to die

fan sorry can we circle back around to charles saying his scheme worked??? ↳ fan yeah charles_leclerc spill. ↳ charles_leclerc a magician never reveals his tricks ↳ y/nleclerc he forced me and lando to talk at the garden party and then pretended to get a phone call from ferrari so he could play eternal flame over the speakers ↳ charles_leclerc y/n :(((( ↳ y/nleclerc you used my love song weakness against me, you don't get to have secrets

alexandrasaintmleux can't believe he stole my girl :( ↳ y/nleclerc you know my heart is always yours x ↳ landonorris WOMP WOMP i didn't pine for years to share

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a/n: thank you for requesting!! i think i've listened to the song about 400 times writing this! needed a lil break from the gote series and this was the perfect thing to get me out of my slump <3

taglist: @golden-hoax

#lando norris smau #lando norris x you #lando norris fanfic #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #f1 imagines #f1 x reader #f1 smau #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 fanfic

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rosysmccheesestories · 4 months ago

Text

Intertwined

Pairing: Brahms Heelshire x reader Warnings: Sexual themes, canon typical behavior Summary: Closing in on you, he could hear your labored breathing. You were panicked, scared. He did not mean to frighten you but he could not allow you to leave either. He needed you. He loved you. You were his.

Quietness always was your comfort. You did not enjoy being around many people or stand their attitude. Few people understood why you generally were pretty quiet, causing your friend group to be pretty small. The few friends you actually had all left your small hometown on the British countryside, going off to new adventures in the big city.

Not you. You stayed behind, not wanting to leave the comfort of your home. Even your mother left to see the world, spending all her hard earned money on travels with her new husband. By no means was your family rich but your parents always were hard workers.

Your mother used to work at the old Heelshire estate, cleaning and for general upkeep of the mansion. A few times she brought you along, not being able to afford a caretaker for you at the time.

There, you interacted with the son of the Heelshire’s a few times. He generally was quite shy, often hiding behind his mother’s legs whenever interacting with your mother or you. Curios about the older boy, you tried to speak with him a few times. “Have you left your house before?” Shyly, he seemed to slightly folded into himself, not wanting to answer at first. You never see him at school or anywhere else in town. Your mother mentioned before, that he was privately tutored at home. “No.” Looking under him, his hands behind his back, he looked cute to you. In that moment, you decided that you’d like to get to know this shy boy better. “Would you like to play with me in the woods?” Looking up, he seemed surprised by your offer to play together. A smile. “Yes”.

After your initial interaction, you and Brahms spend a lot of time together., becoming quite close.

Playing outside in the woods, trying to catch each other in a game of tag. He always found you, seemingly appearing out of thin air behind you. You never minded him finding you. Until he accidentally scared a little mouse you were trying to approach. The mouse, scared of the sudden appearance of Brahms behind you, bit your finger. “Ouch!” Pulling your hand back, holding it to your chest in order to inspect it, diverting your attention to your injured finger. You didn’t even notice Brahm’s fury towards the little creature. A sickening crunch made you abruptly look up. Brahms, in all his rage, was stomping the bloody remains of the little mouse with his foot, seemingly not letting up until nothing of it remained. “Brahms! Stop!” Instinctively, you grabbed his arm, trying to calm him. “What are you doing! It’s just a mouse!” For the first time, you screamed at him. His eyes, so dark you could not even see his iris, finally found yours. “It bit you, hurting you!” To Brahms this was all the explanation he needed to give. “Animals bite when scared. That’s no reason to kill them!” Your voice was still raised, but definitely not as loud as before. “Don’t you yell at me!” Brahms suddenly was closer than he was a second ago. Already towering over you, despite his age, he suddenly appeared very frightening to you. Flinching, you took a step back. The action seemingly breaking Brahm’s fury induced stupor. “I’m sorry. Please don’t be mad at me” Tears brimmed in his eyes. “It’s okay, no need to cry” Your arms engulfed him, his form folding over you. “Don’t be mad. I”m sorry.” He wailed. “Don’t leave me”. Your hug tightened around him, trying to ignore the blood left on his boot.

The news of the little girl, Emily Cribbs, being killed in a fire that also killed Brahms, drove you into isolation. Whenever you and your mother left the house, you could feel people whispering behind your back. Rumors in a small town spread fast and said rumor had it, that Brahms was involved in the little girl’s death. Suddenly, you received a lot more attention from your fellow villagers, being one of the very few people ever actually interacting with Brahms. People asking you questions you never wanted to answer, ignoring your obvious grief.

You never went to the Heelshire house anymore, not after they decided to let your mother go from her caretaker position. Neither your mother nor you blamed them. The Heelshire estate was not the same after Brahm’s death. Darkness surrounded the building, looming even over whole village. A few times, you heard of caretakers being hired by the Heelshire’s but you never heard much else about it. No one ever saw the caretakers arriving or leaving. Soon, the Heelshire mansion was known as a haunted house that you cannot leave once you entered.

Running into the Heelshires during your daily walk in the woods was pure coincidence. Reminiscing in your thoughts, you did not even realize how close you’ve gotten to their estate. Only once you were standing a few feet away from Mister Heelshire, did your grasp on reality return. “I apologize, I did not mean to intrude” Embarrassed and stumbling over your words as well as your feet. Putting your arms up, you took a few steps back. Mister Heelshire seemed stunned to see someone this close to their property. A shovel in his hand and dirt all over his pants, he seemed so different from how you remembered him. Looking at you, his eyes gleamed with the realization of who you are. He remembered you. “You have to leave. No one is allowed on this property” His tone was cold, a lot harsher than he ever was to you as a child. “I’m terribly sorry. I’ll leave”. Backing up even further, movement in a window on the upper floors caught your eye. Besides the curtain moving, you did not see much else.

How terribly he missed you. Seeing you standing there, so close but yet so far to their house, he tried memorizing your image into the deepest corner of his conscience, mesmerized by your beauty. Your cheeks were red from the cold, even though you were wearing a thick cardigan and a scarf. Oh, how he would never let the cold touch ever again. He would keep you warm, his body melting into yours no matter what time of day.

Taking a step back from the window, his broad shoulders accidentally moved against the curtain, moving it. On instinct, he hid behind the wall next to the window not wanting to be seen. He needed you back, no matter the cost. Moving swiftly, he ducked into the secret opening of the wall, desperately wanting to inform his mother of his rediscovered desire. You needed to be back in his arms.

Turning around to leave, a door whipping open haltered your movement. “Wait!” Missus Heelshire came running out the house, surprising not only you but her husband as well. Looking at her, she aged immensely since the last time you saw her. Her hair was white, but her eyes were still as observant as ever, though desperation was clearly shining in them.

Coming to a standstill, she opened her mouth. “Please feel free to come in. I’d like to propose an offer, you cannot refuse” She looked very certain. Nervous, you grabbed the hem of your sweater. It has been over a decade since you last entered the Heelshire estate. Bitting your lip, you looked around the garden, up the open front door. “I’m really sorry, I did not mean to interrupt your time. I was just on a walk. I’ll leave” Missus Heelshire’s face contorted. “No child, please come in. I’d like to discuss a possible work arrangement with you” Surprised, your mouth opened slightly. Eyes roaming around the building one more time, you nodded. Mister Heelshire stepped back, looking down towards his shovel. Entering through the gate, you ignored your stomach suddenly dropping. It’s been so long.

Entering the house, the first thing that hit you was the smell. The air in the houses tasted stale and old. Looking around, you were just as amazed like you were as a child of the sheer size of the building. The mansion definitely did not lose any of its grandeur in the years you have not been here. “I’d ask you to please take your shoes off. We do not appreciate dirt in the house” Missus Heelshire looked at you pointedly. “Of course! I apologize” Embarrassed, you slipped out of your boots.

“Follow me” Turning around, Misses Heelshire walked towards the kitchen area. You remembered the layout of the house.

Close after her, you felt eyes on you. The hairs on the back of your neck stood but you attributed this to being back in the building you lost your close friend in. “Please sit. I will prepare some tea shortly.” The kitchen table was the same as well. Seemingly, nothing has changed since the last time you were here.

Putting a cup down in front of you, Missus Heelshire sat, body turned to you. “I will not beat around the bush. We are in urgent need of a nanny for the estate as well as Brahms.” Shocked, your eyes opened wide. “Brahms?” You did not believe it. Brahms was dead.

Sighing, Missus Heelshire stood up. “Come on child, I will show you” Leading you upstairs, you followed her. The house seemed to move with you, the sound of creaking coming from the stairs as well as the walls. Coming to a halt in front of Brahms old bedroom, she looked over her shoulder. “Please do not misunderstand. We just want what’s best for our boy.” Nodding, she opened the door. There, sitting on the edge of Brahms’s old bed, was a doll. It looked eerily similar to the young boy you remembered. Your surprise was replaced by a feeling of pity not only for the woman in front of you but also the old man outside in the garden. They lost their only son, coming to terms with his death definitely was not easy. In their grief, they turned to a replacement. “Please say hello to Brahms. It’s been so long since you’ve seen each other” Pointing with her hand towards the doll, Missus Heelshire stepped back a bit. Not wanting to be perceived as rude, you kneeled in front of the doll. “Hello Brahms. It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” Eyes teary, your voice cracked slightly. The situation was awkward, you were speaking with a doll after all, but you could not blame the Heelshires for their way of grieving. It took you years to get over the loss of your friend as well.

Taking the dolls hand, you shook it slightly. Missus Heelshire, looking content with your interaction, spoke up again. “We plan on going for a trip for a few weeks but we cannot leave Brahms nor the house alone. Since you’re familiar with the house and Brahms missed you, we’d like for you to take over the role of caretaker in our absence.” Folding her hands over her stomach, she looked at you expectingly. “Of course, we will compensate you for your time and effort”. Understanding the offer, you nodded. You did not need to think about it for long. If you could help the family of your childhood friend, you would do so.

You were supposed to start the next day. Going home in order to pack your bags felt weird, considering where you were going. The feeling of pity for the Heelshires never left you. They were obviously struggling to come to terms with the death of their son. If taking care of a doll for a few weeks could help them a bit, you would. Not even the rules Missus Heelshire gave you rattled your determination of helping them out.

No Guests

Never Leave Brahms Alone

Save Meals in Freezer

Never Cover Brahms Face

Read a Bedtime Story

Play Music Loud

Clean the Traps

Only Malcolm Brings Deliveries

Brahms is Never to Leave

Kiss Goodnight

The next day, you returned to the Heelshire estate. Mister and Missus Heelshire were ready to go the minute you arrived, their bags ready by their side. Missus Heelshire put her hand on your shoulder. “Please take good care of our boy for us.” Squeezing a bit, she let go. Mister Heelshire gave you a pitiful look before shamefully looking under him like he did outside in the garden. Grabbing their bags, both of them left.

Confused, your eyes trailed after them. “Weird” You mumbled under your breath. Taking a deep breath in, you made your way upstairs.

The Heelshires left but the house still does not feel like you’re actually alone in the building. You keep hearing noises all over. Opening the door to Brahms room, you are met with the cold eyes of the doll. “Well Brahms, looks like it’s only the two of us now” Grinning, you picked up the doll and hoisted it on your hip. “Let’s take a look around”

Following your footsteps, Brahms barely could contain his excitement. His fingers prickled, the want to touch you barely controllable. Walking almost next to in the walls, he could faintly smell you causing his eyes to roll to the back of his head. Breathing in deeply, he can almost taste you. How heavenly it would be to burrow his face in your neck, inhaling your bare essence, feeling your soft skin under his lips. His fingers pressing into your soft sides, sliding down towards your thighs. The thought alone aroused him. Looking up at the ceiling, he sighed. Soon.

You still know where everything is, which should make your job a lot easier. Putting Brahms down, you looked for cleaning utensils to get started on dusting. Almost spending all of your day cleaning, your stomach suddenly reminded you that you still needed to eat. Picking Brahms back up, you made your way to the kitchen again. Putting the doll down in one of the chairs, you got to cooking and eating. Once done, you cleaned up the mess you created and put the other half in the freezer, as instructed.

“Time for bed” With those words you left the kitchen, completely forgetting about the doll. Making it up to your room, you got to unpacking your luggage. You did not bring that much with you, since you could go home anytime in order to pick up more of what you need. You also were not planning on doing your laundry in the Heelshire estate but rather opting to driving the twenty minutes into town and taking care of it at home.

A sudden noise startled you. Looking at the door, it almost seemed like it rattled for a millisecond. The hairs on your neck and arms stood once more, a shiver going down your back. Scared, you slowly walked towards the door not trying to make a sound. Putting your hand on the doorhandle, the door rattled again. Screaming, you tripped, landing on your rear. “Ouch” Rubbing your backside, you stood back up. “What the hell” Not wanting to investigate the weird ongoings, you locked the door scared someone or something could be in the house. Shaking you hurried into the bathroom, locking the door there as well. Curling up, you sit on the toilet, eyes trained on the door.

He did not mean to make you fall and hurt yourself. His intent was only to scare you a bit to get you to properly take care of him or rather his replacement for the meantime. Watching through the oneway mirror in your bathroom, he felt bad seeing you all curled up, shaking like a leaf. You don’t ever have to be afraid around him, as long as you follow the rules. Still, he was a bad boy for accidentally hurting you. He needed to be punished.

A bang woke you up. Looking around the bathroom, your confusion quickly turned into fear again. Straining as much as you could, you tried to listen for any more sounds but it was completely quiet. Even the old floorboards and the old wood of the house was silent. Getting up again, you unlocked the door and carefully opened it before actually stepping into your bedroom. Crossing the room, your hands shook as you carefully opened the door to the hallway, scared of what might await you.

The hallway was dark but illuminated enough to tell that nothing was there. Taking a step, your foot collided with something. Looking down, the glass eyes of the doll started back at you. Terrified, you froze not believing what you’re looking at. You suddenly remembered how you accidentally left the doll in the kitchen. “I’m sorry. I did not mean to forget” You sobbed. Was the doll actually haunted or was it the house? Was it the ghost of Brahms? Going a mile a second, questions over questions flooded your mind. Picking the doll back up, you saw a piece of paper. In big fat letters, you could read the word “RULES”

You ran. The rattling, the doll appearing in front of your bedroom door, the piece of paper, it all terrified you. Putting the doll back on its bed, you made a run for it. Almost slipping on the stairs multiple times due to your socks, you made it to the front door. Just wanting to get out, you looked for your shoes. They were nowhere to be found but you know for a fact that you left them in the entryway. “No, no, no, no” Tears now were streaming down your face. Gripping the roots of your hair, you tried to ground yourself with no success. Lights flickering, the house seemed to come to live once more. The prior silence completely gone, you heard groaning from every corner. Whatever it was, it did not want you to leave. Turning around, you found the little doll looking at you from the base of the stairs again.

The following weeks, you got into a routine with Brahms. You woke up, got ready for the day only to do the same to the doll. Too terrified of what might happen if you did not obey the rules, you made sure to strictly stick to them now. Though it gave you a slight ick to kiss the doll goodnight, you still gave it a forehead kiss every evening.

You did not mind being alone in the big house for the most part. Enjoying the quiet, once done with cleaning, you actually had time to read a bit while the doll was listening to music loudly. The extensive library in the back of the estate could entertain you for months, if not years. Luckily, you would not have to stay that long. Once the Heelshires came back, you’d be able to leave without any further issues. You were only hired as a caretaker for a few weeks after all.

The only interruption in your daily routine with the doll was Malcolm coming to bring the groceries. The house always got eerily quiet once he was in the house, as if waiting for him to misbehave, ready to pounce. And even though you did enjoy the daily smalltalk with him, you knew it was for the better for him to leave in a timely matter. You were not allowed guests nor were you willing to test if the rules were bendable.

You were getting ready for bed in your bathroom when you noticed a weird of smudge on the side of your mirror. It was so tiny and minuscule, you wouldn’t even have noticed, if you were not keenly aware of how you just cleaned your bathroom this morning. The rules did not specify cleaning of the estate but it definitely would not hurt your situation to do so.

Leaning forward, you wiped at the smudge with your finger. While doing so, you felt air hitting the tip of your finger. Confused, you looked at the side of your mirror but you could not see anything out of place. Grabbing the mirror, you tried to rattle it. The sound produced by this, almost sounded hollow, like there was nothing behind the mirror. Pulling harder, the mirror seemed to move along with the whole wall. Pulling even further, you could tell there was an empty space behind the wall. “What?” Wide eyed, you took a step into the hollow space. Quickly grabbing a flashlight out of your bathroom cabinet, you only wanted to take a Quick Look. Unfortunately for you, while trying to determine how long this passageway went, the opening clicked close next to you. Shocked, you looked left. The mirror functioned as a oneway mirror, you could see the whole of your bathroom. Unease bubbled in the pit of your stomach. Who was watching you through there?

Turning to the passageway, you had not choice but to go forward. The light shook slightly due to your trembling hands, but at at least you could still see. The bit of light shining through the nook and crannies from the walls did not illuminate the passageway enough for you to see clearly. You were glad you brought the flashlight, bringing you a tiny bit of comfort. While walking, you realized how the passageway seemed to follow the structure of the house, clearly going through any floor and any room. This terrified you. Was someone here the whole time you’ve been here?

It was hard to breathe. Dust and dirt made you cough every other step, the musty smell of moisture being trapped in the passageway with you. Choosing different directions of the passageway, you ended up in front of a small door. Opening it, an even smaller staircase lead up. Going up as silent as possible, you could see a slight light at the very top of it. Hopefull your pace got quicker. At the top of the staircase was a room. It was not big by any means but it definitely was a welcome change to the passageway and staircase you just went through. Looking around the room, you could see a sink, a kitchen area as well as more nooks towards the back of it. Personal belongings were littered around the room. Obviously someone was living here this whole time. The thought alone made you shiver. Your worst fear of not actually being alone in the house came true.

Inspecting the room further, a bed caught your eye. Walking towards it, you could clearly see a puppet, wearing your clothes, laying on the bed. Around the bed were drawings of you. Some while sleeping, some while you were doing chores. Whoever lives here has been watching you.

Your breath quickened while your heart was beating so loud, your ears were ringing. Close to a panic attack, you spun around and froze. There, in the middle of the room, a man was standing. The light of the single light bulb on the ceiling reelected slightly on his porcelain mask. His eyes were already trained on you, clearly surprised. He was slightly hunched over but even so, he was still towering over you. Through his cardigan, you could tell how broadly built the man was. His hands were as big as your face and just looking at him, you could tell you stood no chance. If he wanted to, he could easily snap your neck with probably not much effort.

“Y/N” A childlike voice, not fitting his statue, sounded from the man. The high pitch broke you out of your frozen state. Your legs moved without you even realizing. The man, faster than you would have ever anticipated for his size, lunched at you, trying to grab you by the waist. A scream escaped you but you were able to duck away before his hands were able to grab you. Once his fingers closed around you, you’d have no way of escape. You knew that for certain.

Again, you ran. The passageway was even darker without the flashlight which you dropped when encountering the man. Lungs burning due to running but also due to the dust, you felt like passing out. The passageway seemed to close in on you, walls coming closer while you ran making you trip. Your foot caught on a wooden beam, but you did not even care for the pain. Adrenaline pulsing through your veins, you kept running. There had to be some way out. You just had to find it.

He ran like he never did before. He did not expect you to find your way inside the walls, let alone his room where he kept his priced possessions of you. Pieces of your jewelry, your clothes, your panties. He enjoyed rubbing his face into those, inhaling your scent. The few he took at the beginning of you arrival, he could not even use anymore for his enjoyment. He licked them clean already, his scent overpowering yours.

Like a rabbit, you maneuvered your way around the walls in front of him. He knew the walls though, it was his territory. You could not escape him. He would not let you.

Closing in on you, he could hear your labored breathing. You were panicked, scared. He did not mean to frighten you but he could not allow you to leave either. He needed you. He loved you. You were his.

Coming to a dead end, he saw you hiding behind a boiler that went through the passageway, You had no way out but just seemingly wanted to put something between you two. Grabbing one of the smaller metal pipes, he crouched down.

“Y/N?” Looking at you through the pipes, he moved closer. “Come back.” His voice changed to a lower tone “I will be good. I will” He panted. “No!”

Pushing yourself even more against the wall, you seemingly tried to become one with it. “Come back here” His voice got even lower. Whimpering, you pushed yourself even further into the wall with no success. “Get back here” His voice became a full growl. Hyperventilating, black dots appeared in your vision. “Don’t leave me” was the last thing you heard before passing out.

#brahms heelshire #brahms the boy #brahms x reader #brahms heelsire x reader #slashers #dark romance #yandere #yandere male #romance #smut

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blondejellykitty · 5 months ago

Text

₊♡ ˚⊹ i know all your secrets ₊♡ ˚⊹

୨୧ percy jackson x mortal reader ୨୧ percy's never told you what or who he really is, a hero, a demigod, the son of an olympian god. when he finds you reading a book of the history of the very family he's secretly apart of its safe to say he isn't too happy. a/n: (1.06k words) the plan i had isn't planning, i hope you see the vison i had for this 🩷

Percy had gotten an iris message from a newer satyr. One, his good friend Grover had introduced him to, asking for help on his first demigod retrieval mission he originally said no.

Not because he didn't want to help him, he actually quite liked the guy but because it was one of the few days he wasn't busy with classes at New Rome. And he was looking forward to spending that time with you, his lovely girlfriend back in New York.

But the sooner the day arrived the more Percy felt worse for not even offering to help the younger satyr. He used one of his professors' phones to call you.

Percy promised you he'd be back the following day at the latest. He'd hoped that it wouldn't take too long to get back to you, especially since the unknowing demigod was in New York already.

By the time he traveled all the way back to Camp Half-Blood, the early hours of the morning had come and gone. Meeting said satyr he was willing to help and off they went to find another godling.

Percy in all honesty lost track of time.

Sure he was paying attention to looking for a 'wild troublemaker with curly brown hair' also known as another child of Hermes. But most of his attention was in his own head thinking of all the things he wanted to do when he got back to you.

Lunch had long been and passed, so the thought of eating dinner with you made him walk a little faster.

They'd been practically up and down all of the city looking for this one half blood. Their scent being carried in the wind or hiding amongst the mortals.

Finally they were led to a big beautifully mosaic building, After staring at the bold lettering above the huge open doors for a moment longer than usual Percy read 'Historical Library'.

The inside was just as elegant as the outside. He could almost feel the dirt his shoes were bringing in with each step on the shiny marble floor. As imposing as the outside looking, the inside seemed even bigger. The pair had agreed to split up and began their search.

Walking past row after row of towering shelves stacked with books that the more he walked the finer and older the books got.

Once he'd reached the end most of the books were sitting in rows on tables encased in plastic, which needed a key to be opened. The faded books looked frail and aged with time. Only one case was open and the book inside was gone.

Behind the long bookcases was a small area to sit at, with tidy seats and clean desks. There in a far corner was no doubt the fragile book. Along with notebooks and paper scattered on the small table.

A small stack of books were stacked next to the desk to save space. But more importantly sat there delicately flipping a page, was you.

Percy knew you lived in New York obviously that was how he met you, but not in this area. As he made his way over, all thoughts of the reason he was here left him.

He could read what you were reading, he could read it perfectly because it was greek. Why were you in a historical library reading an ancient looking book about Greek mythology he had no idea, he was about to find out though.

"Beauty?" He had to remember to whisper.

Your head whipped up from leaning down to read looking at his wide eyed making you look like a deer in headlights.

"Percy! What're you doing here?" Your nervous laugh rang through his head as you tried to place some blank papers in order to cover the book you were reading.

Why didn't you want him to know. Was it because you'd started to pick up on the Greek names he'd accidentally dropped in conversation or was it that deep down you knew he wasn't normal? Either way it left a whirlwind of nausea in his stomach.

"I'm here because uh- actually never mind. Why are you here?" He couldn't even lie to you, he'd tried much earlier into your relationship, when he had to go back to camp. He ended up saying he had an apprenticeship at his dads fishing company...

"It's nothing really just uh, learning?" You couldn't even meet his eye. You were still picking at the edges of the paper in front of you as he sat down on the old wooden chair next to you.

"Please tell me?" Percy was glad you both were in such a quiet place because he was sure his voice was quieter than a whisper.

You huffed and unwillingly leaned towards him. You bore an angry glare which in any other circumstance he would have thought was cute but right now made his heart sink with fear.

"You know I can't lie to you. All I'll tell you is that it's a surprise. Okay?" Your eyes seemed to shine with worry as you looked up at him from your hunched frame.

"A- a surprise?" Percy had never been more confused in his life.

So you hadn't figured out about him? Or maybe you had and you just didn't care. No, no that couldn't be it. You just had very odd luck that you'd picked a Greek mythology book and not something else.

"Yes, for your birthday. Now go back to whatever you were doing and forget all about this hm?" You spoke with a soft smirk.

For a moment Percy truly wondered if it were possible you were a child of Aphrodite and had used your charmspeak on him, he did always feel completely compelled to do whatever you'd ask of him.

A loud thud echoed through the large room and a curly haired boy dressed in yellow went running through the middle of the room.

Chasing after him was none other than the young satyr who seemed to have forgotten both his hat and his boots in the chase.

Percy glanced back at you, although startled by the sudden noise you made no note of the half goat boy who'd made a quick appearance.

Leaning down to kiss your soft cheek he uttered a quick goodbye and went running off to catch up with the chaos unfolding down the hall.

#jellydreams #blondejellykitty #percy jackson x reader #pjo x reader #percy jackson #heroes of olympus x reader #book percy jackson #percy jackson fanfiction #perseus jackson #riordanverse #pjo x you #percy jackson x you #perseus jackson x reader

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fleurvi · 6 months ago

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The Babysitter | ShokoHime x Reader

pairing: shoko ieri x fem!reader x utahime iori

genre: smut (minors dni)

wc: 4.1k

cw: babysitter!reader, non-curse au, shokohime are married, threesome, strap-on sex, scissoring, handcuffs, vibrators, double penetration, hair pulling

•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•

You had picked up a part-time gig babysitting for your neighbours to support your income from your regular day job. He is a sweet boy, he is a nice boy, but he is most certainly not a good boy. Due to all the trouble caused by Yuji, his mothers pay much more than anyone else in the area.

You've been their sole babysitter for months, getting to know the whole family. Both women are intimidating figures, but they're so gentle with their son that it's easy to tell that they're real softies, especially Utahime. You get a familiar throbbing between your legs when they make eye contact with you, and you feel so guilty about your rising feelings for the women who have so kindly welcomed you into their home.

You've been called out to babysit Yuji again, and you happily accepted. While walking over, you cross your fingers that the pair will still be home when you get there.

When you knock on the huge doors, you're expecting Yuji to open the door, but instead, you're met with Utahime 's smiling face. Utahime is the less intimidating of the two parents. She greets you kindly, letting you into the house. She walks you into the abnormally tidy living room. Shoko is there, sitting on the couch.

“Hi, Doctor” you greet.

“Hi, Doll,” she responds, flashing a smile that makes you uneasy. The pet name has heat rising beneath your skin. Utahime walks over to the bar in the living room that's usually locked up while you're here. “Would you like a drink, Darling?”

“No, thank you. I don't think drinking on the job is a good idea,” You say, taking a seat next to Shoko, who has shifted over to make room for you.

“Aren't you responsible?” laughs Utahime. “But, I have to apologise. We called you here on false pretences,” she says, passing her wife a drink and taking a seat on your other side. You fidget in your seat, worried that they may have figured out your growing affection for the pair of them.

“False pretences?” you ask.

“Yes. Yuji is currently at his friend's house, and during our time alone, Shoko and I were discussing some recently developing fantasies we've had,” she says, leaning in close to you. You cross and uncross your legs, hoping to get some relief for your panties that grow wetter by the second. You're not oblivious to the connotations of Utahime's words. Shoko's fingers slip under your chin and tilt your face so you can look into her eyes. Her usual stony expression sits on her face, but you can see a different kind of fire burning in her iris’.

“If you decline our advances, we will pay you double our usual fee, drop you home and never speak of this again. If you accept and allow us to, we'd love to make you feel good,” She says, refusing to break eye contact. Your brain takes a second to buffer. You can't quite believe that they feel the same about you. You nod and Shoko instructs you to use your words.

“Yes, please”, you whine, voice clear and loud. Within seconds, Utahime is on you, pressing kisses to your neck and wrapping her arms around you. She feels you up and squeezes your tits. Shoko watches, eyes glued to her wife's hands playing with your chest.

“Strip down for us,” says Utahime, letting go and leaning back against the sofa. You see her exchange a giddy smile with Shoko as you stand. You take everything off, down to your underwear. They're verbal in their appreciation for what you were hiding under each article of clothing you take off.

“You're so fucking hot”, growls Shoko, lips moving around the cigarette wedged between her teeth so she could speak. Utahime extends her hand towards you and pulls you onto her lap, helping you into a straddling position. She kisses around the cup of your bra as the edges of Shoko’s nails slide against your shoulder blades and underneath the back of your bra. In one harsh movement, she unclips the garment, making it easy for Utahime to pull it from your body. Utahime attaches her lips to your nipple, biting down to make you yelp. Shoko remains in her seat. The soft scrape of her nails causes goosebumps to rise over your skin.

“Are you going to join us, Doctor?” you ask, wanting to get any part of her body on you.

“I'm right here. Is Utahime not enough for you? Greedy girl,” she responds, pressing the point of her nails into your thigh. Utahime pulls away from your chest.

“Don't worry about Shoko. She likes to watch. Just focus on me,” she says, lifting her head to your neck, licking up the side before pressing a messy kiss to your jaw. Utahime presses her fingers to your clothed pussy, smiling against your neck when you whimper.

Both women are staring you down like you're their last meal. The way Shoko watches you through a cloud of smoke, like a beast stalking its prey, sends shivers up your spine. You should be intimidated by the power both women exude, but they just excite you. Utahime’s mouth is rough, but she handles you gently.

“I think it's time we take you to bed, huh?” Utahime asks you. Then she turns towards Shoko. “Darling, put that out so you can give her a kiss,” she says to Shoko, who rolls her eyes but does as she's told anyway. She puts out her cigarette in the ashtray on the table. She reaches her hand into your hair, pulling you into an aggressive kiss, all teeth and dripping with saliva. Her tongue isn't shy, pushing into your mouth with ease, filling it with the taste of smoke.

When Shoko lets you go, Utahime lifts you up and over her shoulder. The ease with which Utahime lifts you is surprising. You're carried through a familiar hallway but then into a room you've never entered before. You're dropped down onto silk bed sheets, and both women take a second to watch you.

“Give us something pretty to look at while we strip”, says Shoko, reaching her hand up to unbutton her blouse. “Don't be shy, Dollface. Show us how you touch yourself when you think of us.”

Before getting started on her clothes, Utahime takes a moment to pull your underwear down your legs. She throws them behind her, not caring where they land. You look back at Shoko, who's still waiting for her show. You nervously reach a hand down to your pussy, gently running two fingers between your lips and collecting your wetness. You start with slower circles at the clit as Shoko removes her shirt. You hear more vocal encouragement from Utahime and speed your fingers up.

“Bet that pussy tastes divine”, growls Utahime, eager to get her mouth on you. You slip your fingers down to your hole and press two fingers into you. The women groan as they watch you. Once they've removed all their clothes, Utahime swats your hand away from your aching pussy and kneels on the floor, dragging you to the edge of the bed. Shoko is quick to join this time, grabbing your wrist and guiding your soaked fingers to her mouth. Her tongue swirls around your fingers, and she groans at your taste.

Utahime’s hands grip the back of your thighs, pushing your knees closer to your chest and holding you spread open for her. She leans in, licking from your back hole to your clit. She suctions her mouth around your clit, flicking her tongue in a way that has your hands flying between your legs to grab at her hair.

“She's good at that, huh?” asks Shoko, laughing when you nod. “What about you? You eat pussy like that?” She asks, running a finger over your lips. You're unsure if you've got the experience or skill to match Utahime, but you've definitely got the enthusiasm, so you tell her ‘yes’. Shoko flashes you a predatory grin before pushing you to lie flat against the sheets. She swings her leg over your face, straddling you. Your hands move from Utahime's hair to Shoko's thighs. You pull her down onto your face pressing your tongue to her clit. She moans as you flatten your tongue, letting her rock her hips over you.

You're close; Utahimes tongue has worked you up so quickly. You try to focus on licking at Shoko's clit, but your impending orgasm has you distracted. You tap Shoko’s thigh to let her know you're going to cum, as if your moaning and shaking didn't tip her off already, and she moves off of you. She opts to whisper in your ear instead, encouraging you to let go for them.

“Come on, sweet girl. Cum for us,” she says, voice uncharacteristically sweet as she plays with your tits. Your hands are back in Utahime's hair, holding her between your legs as your orgasm crashes into you. You can feel Shoko's lips on your chest as Utahime licks your through your high. There's a static buzzing beneath your skin that settles into a warm feeling. Utahime rises from between your legs and immediately leans in to kiss her wife. You watch intently; they're so beautiful. “Fuck, she tastes so good”, groans Shoko as she pulls away.

“Doesn't she? I'd quite happily take her for another spin,” says Utahime. You squirm beneath them, waiting for them to touch you again. Utahime guides Shoko to sit against the pillows. You can tell Shoko doesn't typically follow orders, but she does so anyway. This time, Utahime grabs a handful of your hair and guides you between Shokos spread legs. You go to press your tongue against her slit and taste her, but Utahime stops you.

“You can finish what you started in a minute. First, I need you to choose what I do to this pretty pussy. I could eat you out again or play with this pretty pussy” she says, slipping her fingers between your folds. “Or I could get a strap and stretch this pretty pussy out.” You nod, eager to try all of them.

“Strap. Please, I want you to fuck me,” you whine, wiggling your hips at Utahime. You receive a quick spank at your display, jolting you forward towards Shoko's pussy. It's quiet for a second, except for Utahime opening a box from a drawer. You can hear her adjusting the strap as Shoko, who's a lot rougher than Utahime, grips a handful of hair and pulls you to her cunt. You, never one to disappoint, flatten your tongue against her and lick up her folds before settling on suckling on her clit. She tastes divine. You could sit here and worship her perfect cunt for hours.

You're so wrapped up in Shoko's pussy that you don't realise Utahime has rejoined you until the tip of her strap is poking at your hole. The strap is bigger than you've taken previously. It was probably an intentional choice on their part.

“You ready for my cock, baby?” asks Utahime, voice sickly sweet as she pushes into you. She digs her fingers into your hips as she starts to thrust. The moan that leaves you is embarrassingly loud. “Yeah, I bet that feels good,” says Utahime, rewarding your noises by wrapping an arm around you to play with your clit.

“Don't forget you've still got a job to do��, says Shoko, pulling you back between her legs. You dive back in, eagerly sucking at Shoko's clit. “That's a good girl” she groans, leaning her head back. Shoko shamelessly rocks her hips over your face as you eat her out.

“Could do this for hours”, you whine as you pull back to take a breath. You reattach your lips and press two fingers into Shoko's hole. You try your best to time your fingers to Utahime's deep thrusts inside you. Shoko is close, and she starts to close her legs around your head. You speed up your fingers, taking care to angle them correctly so she's writhing against the pillows.

The ease with which you pull Shoko over the edge does wonders for your confidence. Her juices flood your face as her moans fill the room. She's much more vocal than you had thought she would be, and the sound is music to your ears. When Shoko comes down from her high, she shimmies out from under you and shuffles to her right so she's out of the way and catches her breath.

You only get a split second to eye up Shoko's post-orgasm expression before Utahime grabs your hair and pushes you face-first into the mattress. Her thrusts are harsher now that you're done pleasing her wife. She's rutting inside you, thick strap dragging against your walls as she smacks your ass. You weren't expecting to see this side of Utahime so soon, but you'd be lying if you said you hadn't fantasised about being their little pet.

“Arch your fucking back for me,” Utahime says, smoothing her hand down your spine and bringing it back up to your ass, punctuating her order with a sharp slap. Her demeanour gets rougher the better you respond to the spanking. If she hadn't spoken to you, you could've mistaken her for Shoko. You had a feeling the ‘fantasies’ they mentioned when you first got here were kinkier than they let on.

She's fucking you good and rubbing your clit with her fingers, occasionally giving it a smack causing both her and Shoko to laugh at the way you whine at the sudden sting. You're close, pliant and moaning beneath Utahime.

“Cum for me, pretty girl”, she says in your ear, cooing as your orgasm hits. Your body twitches as you cum, pussy clenching around the strap. “That's it,” she says, carefully pulling out. “You wanna clean it up?” you hear her ask. You snap your eyes open in time to see Shoko nod, crawling towards Utahime, who has shuffled back to let you breathe. Shoko wraps her lips around the strap, sucking your juices from the toy. You think you could cum again just from watching.

“So you like a little bit of rough treatment?” Utahime asks as Shoko pulls her mouth off of the toy.

“Yeah.” You sigh. “like it when you manhandle me,” you say, with a dreamy smile on your face. You hear both women laugh, endeared by your confession.

“Oh, sweetheart, we can do a lot more than manhandle you. We've got all sorts of toys down here if you wanna have more fun with us,” says Shoko. You instantly nod, not wanting to be done yet.

“Please, I want to be good for you,” you say, sitting up more.

“Of course, we can go all night, Dollface. Just sit pretty, catch your breath and watch me make my wife cum. If you're a good girl and watch without touching yourself, we'll give you a reward, ” says Shoko, pushing Utahime to lie on her back. You focus your eyes on the pair. Shoko pulls the strap harness from Utahime, setting it aside for later. She pushes one of Utahimes legs towards her chest and straddles between them. Shoko leans forward, letting Utahime's leg rest against her shoulder and rubbing her clit against Utahimes. You watch, entranced by the vision of Shoko rocking her hips against Utahime as high-pitched moans of satisfaction fill the room.

Shoko is focused on pleasing Utahime, but looks over to you to check you're obeying her. You're so wet and dying to touch yourself, but you keep your hands at your sides gripping the sheets. Shoko works her hips, growling deep in the back of her throat as she rubs her sensitive pussy against her wife's.

“You look so good, baby. You close?” Shoko asks Utahime. Utahime nods frantically, cursing as her orgasm starts to spread through her body.

“I'm cumming, Sho, please”, she whimpers as she arches off the bed. She looks so pretty when she cums. Shoko moves from between Utahime's legs and turns to you.

“You've been a good girl, c'mere,” says Shoko, beckoning you to her side. You're pulled into a heated kiss, Shoko's tongue pushing against yours. A second pair of hands grab your waist, and you feel Utahime's lips on your neck. Her lips travel up your neck and jaw until she and Shoko lift their heads to kiss each other. You lower your head to kiss down Shokos neck and chest, stopping at her tits and taking one of her nipples into your mouth. When they pull away from the kiss, Shoko pulls you off of her by the hair. She puts her thumb in your mouth, smiling like a cat when you suck.

“How many orgasms can you take before you need a proper break?” she asks, pulling her thumb from your mouth.

Your skin is tingling, you're sensitive from two orgasms, and you're so riled up you might cum as soon as one of them touches your pussy. You know you won't last much longer.

“I can give you two more,” you say.

“Attagirl” praises Utahime, pecking your lips

“Your reward for being such a good girl will be choosing how we give you your final orgasm,” says Shoko. “But first, we get to have even more fun with you.”

Shoko removes herself from the bed and reaches underneath, pulling out a box. You watch as she pulls out a vibrating wand, handcuffs and another strap-on. She lays them all on the bed save for the handcuffs, which she passes to Utahime, who gestures for you to lift your arms above your head so that she can cuff your hands around one of the headboard bars.

“If you need to stop at any point and your mouth is occupied, just kick one of us. Understood?”

“Yes”

Shoko climbs back on the bed, grabbing the vibrating wand as she makes her way back over to your side.

“Are you having fun with us tonight?” she asks, trailing her finger down the side of your face. You nod, and Shoko raises her eyebrow, looking for a verbal response. You open your mouth to confirm, but you're cut off by Shoko slipping her fingers into your mouth. “suck my fingers, baby”. You do as you're told, pressing your tongue against her fingers.

Utahime lifts one of your legs and trails kisses from your ankle to your thigh, where she sinks her teeth, prompting you to moan around Shoko's fingers. When Shoko's satisfied, she pulls her fingers from your mouth and urges Utahime to move over. She passes the vibrator she was holding to Utahime. Shoko presses a slicked-up finger to your hole before sliding it in. It's quickly joined by a second. Shoko keeps her hand still until you start squirming desperately for something more.

Shoko gently moves her fingers, thrusting them enough to give you some satisfaction but not enough to make you cum. You go to start begging but, before you can speak, Utahime turns on the vibrator and presses the head of the wand to your clit. The sudden stimulation steals the breath from your lungs as you let out a cracked whine.

Shoko speeds up her fingers as Utahime presses the toy harder to your clit. You yelp and kick your legs out, which makes them laugh at you.

“Does that feel good, Beautiful?” asks Utahime, pressing a kiss to your leg.

“Yes, fuck”, you growl as Shoko finger fucks you to the edge of an orgasm, only to pause at the last minute. You groan and try to reach down and continue yourself, only to be stopped by the cuffs. Utahime has stopped the vibrator by now too, leaving you hanging on the edge with no way to get off. “Please, please make me cum”, you beg, continuing to pull at the cuffs. Your wrists ache a little, so you stop, deciding the best course of action is to beg for what you want.

“Shoko, please keep going. It feels so good. I need to cum so bad. Please, please, please-”

Your begging descends into moans when Shoko grants you your wish and continues her fingers inside of you. Utahime turns the vibrator back on to full power, and it's almost embarrassing the way you're already teetering on the edge of an orgasm. You're whining, blabbering nonsense as you're pushed over the edge once again.

Your orgasm washes over you like a wave drenching you in pleasure. You can hear Shoko and Utahime talking to you, but it isn't until both women still and relieve you of pleasure that you can take in what they're saying.

“That was so fucking hot, you're such a pretty girl,” Says Shoko, licking her fingers clean. Utahime nods in agreement, kissing your stomach as you come back down from your orgasm.

“You said you've got one more in you. How do you want it?” asks Utahime, lying beside you. You don't take a second to ponder. You just blurt out the first thing you think of.

“Want you both to fuck me at the same time”, you whimper as Utahime leans in to kiss you properly. You hear Shoko say OK before reaching for the spare strap and harness she had grabbed earlier. Shoko helps Utahime put one of the strap harnesses on as she's too preoccupied with kissing you. You think Utahime's saliva must have some kind of venom in it because you couldn't pull away if you tried.

Once Shoko has fastened her own strap, she uncuffs you. You shake your wrists out before using your hands to cup Utahime's face. She pulls you so that you're straddling her lap, pussy rubbing against the shaft of the toy. You pull away from the kiss when you feel Shoko test pressing the tip of her finger to the rim of your asshole.

“Before you ride ‘Hime, I've got to open you up,” She says. You hear her spit then feel it as she pushes a finger into your hole. Utahime continues to make out with you as Shoko stretches you open, adding another finger as she thrusts gently inside you. She adds a third before pulling her fingers out. “OK, now lower yourself onto Hime's strap,” she instructs as she clicks open a bottle of lube.

Utahime spits on her hand and then uses it to slick up her toy. You lift your hips so she can line it up with your hole, and she grips your hips as you slowly lower yourself down. You moan out as you sink down onto it. Once she's bottomed out inside you, Shoko pushes you to lean forward again, keeping on palm steady on your back as she slowly pushes her slicked-up strap into your ass. You're completely filled up and it's nothing like you've ever felt before. You need a few seconds to adjust, which both women grant you.

“Please move now”, you whimper once you're ready to go, and they oblige. They work together in alternating rhythms so that you're not empty. You're immediately driven to a separate plain of existence. Neither woman is holding back, their bruising grip holding you in place as they rut into you. It's almost animalistic. You can barely warn them of how close you are, struggling to form a complete sentence without slurring from the pleasure. Your eyes roll back, and you let out a filthy moan.

“That feel good?” Shoko teases, chuckling in your ear when you nod frantically at her question.

“Gonna cum for us?” asks Utahime, who has planted her feet for extra leverage as she thrusts up into you. You're teetering on the edge of an orgasm, unable to warn them before it comes barrelling into you. You shake in the hold, moaning and whining as you cum all over their cocks. You can hear them praising you, but you're barely taking it in. Your orgasm is akin to an out-of-body experience, ethereal yet grounded. Your skin is still tingling when you regain your breath.

Shoko and Utahime help you off of them, lying you on the sheets next to them. Shoko takes off her strap and lays next to you, massaging any potentially sore parts of your body and telling you how good you were, while Utahime does a rough cleanup job of the toys and starts the shower.

“You did so good for us, Doll. Do you want to get in the shower and then go to sleep? Or do you wanna get in the shower and go for round two?” Shoko asks, running her hand up your side. You think for a second. As much as you'd love to go again, you're tired. You can only hope that the invitation to stay the night can lead to more in the future.

“I'm sleepy,” you say in response. Shoko nods, wiggling out of bed.

“C'mon then. Hime's waiting for us”

•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•

Been wanting to post this for so long, hope you enjoy!!

#jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujustsu kaisen x reader #shoko x reader #utahime x reader #shoko x utahime #shokohime #shokohime x reader #utahime smut #shoko smut #shokohime smut #✿ jjk #☆ shoko #☆ utahime #♡ shokohime #⚢ ~#🖋 mine

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girllblogging777 · 10 months ago

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𝑈𝑁𝑇𝑂𝑈𝐶𝐻𝐴𝐵𝐿𝐸 𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚

↳ mattheo riddle x fem!reader (cousin’s best friend)

↳ word count : 0,6k

𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦 : mattheo riddle has never done feelings, but that was until draco’s french cousin transferred from beauxbatons

✩✩✩✩

you were “untouchable”. that’s what everyone thought. that’s what everyone said. the first word pronounced when someone mentioned you. the “mysterious french girl” the “exchange student from beauxbatons” and most of all “draco malfoy’s cousin”. you couldn’t go anywhere in this school without hearing those words. everyone knew better when it came to daring looking your way or crossing your path.

as mean and cold as he looked, your cousin draco had a habit of being quite overprotective when it came to you. since you had transferred to hogwarts a couple of months ago, you had never been seen without him and his friends. the slytherin boys all had quite the reputation in this school, and ever since draco had introduced you to them, you knew the other students would leave you alone.

however, the “untouchable” rule came to your cousin’s friends too. they knew better than that, and to be honest you didn’t care much. enzo was caring, blaise was loyal, theo was compassionate, but what you and them had was purely platonic. the only person to whom that rule didn’t apply was the one and only mattheo riddle. the captivating brunette had been draco’s ride or die since first year and unfortunately for you, that meant you had to spend a lot of time together. but for some reason, the boy always seemed to be avoiding you. it wasn’t obvious at first but you had started to notice it in the little things, like when he’d leave the great hall everytime you sat at their table or go for a cigarette break when you approached the boys at a party. “what did i do to make him hate me ?” you often thought. “he doesn’t even know me…”

you always ended up brushing it off by talking and joking with the other guys, who unlike mattheo, were always here for you. what you didn’t know was that the dark lord’s son didn’t hate you, he just hated what you made him feel. the way his heart fluttered when you were around was nothing but platonic, wich is why he always felt like bolting when you approached him.

but what could he do ? you were breathtakingly beautiful. hell, captivating even. the way your hair was always perfectly falling around your face like an angel. how you made the cutest sound when you laughed at his friends’ jokes. and that sweet accent of yours didn’t help. every word that rolled out of your tongue made him lose his mind. the minute you had walked inside the great hall back in september, he knew he was done for. “they weren’t lying when they said french people were attractive”. imagine what he felt when right after being sorted into slytherin, you ran into draco’s arms. did his best friend have a girlfriend ? how could he have missed that ? he was pulled out of his thoughts when he heard “meet my cousin, y/n y/l/n”. and that’s when he realised the mess he was in.

mattheo riddle wasn’t known to be a romantic guy, he didn’t do feelings. the only times he was seen with girls were during drunk make out sessions at parties, or quickies in broom closets when he needed some relief. all his life, he had stayed away from love and its problems. the “untouchable” girl was the compete opposite. you were a hopeless romantic, saving yourself for the perfect romance you had read and dreamt about ever since you were little. and most of all, you were his best friend’s little cousin. he knew he should’ve stayed away from you, and he really tried.

but everything changed after that one time…

✩✩✩✩

a/n : this is my first time writing so please give me some feedback !!! also please like, comment and reblog, i’m taking requests (tell me if you wanna be tagged in my posts <3)

@pizzaapeteer @tateshifts @iris-qt @deadghosy @mattheosdior @sadnymi

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outofthebluess · 9 months ago

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𝜗𝜚 birthday boy .ᐟ

currently playing ❛ stargazing ❜ in which: ❛ percy's typically home this time of year, leaving you to celebrate his birthday in your own cabin with one single iris message update at the end of the day. but, for whatever reason, the gods were in your favour because you got to celebrate your boyfriends birthday with him. ❜

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pairing: ❛ percy jackson x fem!reader ❜ warnings: ❛ use of y/n (😔), cursing ❜

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when you first heard from percy that'd his school year was starting up later than usual and that he'd be able to stay at camp a week longer, you thought to yourself wow, maybe those offerings do work.

it was a blessing and a curse that percy took forever to wake up in the morning, giving you just enough time to sneak out of his bed and spend the few minutes you had blowing up balloons you'd gotten the stoll twins get for you along with everything else you needed.

for gods sake you even contacted his mother a few days earlier just to ask her what he normally did on his birthday so you could make his day perfect.

the balloons flooded the floor and the overwhelming scent of latex and frosting from the singular cupcake you had mixed with the smell that always wafted through percy's cabin.

eventually, the son of posiden would come to realize that this whole time no one had been laying next to him. worry would shoot through his body as he shifted to reach for you. his hands lifted to rub his eyes before sitting up.

"y/n?" his eyes met yours almost instantly, the furrow of his eyebrowns loosening. "gods you scared the shit out of me."

once he finally got a good look around, a smile lifted. the little indents next to the corner of his mouth becoming more prominent. "what's all this?"

"it's for your birthday!"

percy never understood how he got so lucky with you. he watched in admiration as the flame flickered on the freshly lit candle. the blue wax slowing dripping down it's frame.

"it is your birthday right? august 18th?"

percy kicked the covers off. "yeah - yeah it is. when did you do all this?"

"while you were absolutely knocked out like 20 minutes ago. come blow out your candle before it gets in the frosting."

percy's feet hit the ground almost too quickly. he sits down next to you and presses a quick kiss to your forehead. he looks to you, then the candle, and closes his eyes before blowing out the flame.

"i wished for us by the way."

"you can't say that now it won't come true." he gently takes the cupcake from your hands, the warmth of them together waking you up a second time.

"yes it will." percy began, his mouth full of the bite he just took. "you think i'm gonna let my totally perfect girlfriend do all this and not marry her? you're kidding yourself, y/n/n."

you scoff before wiping the frosting off his lip. "happy birthday seaweed brain."

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. . .

A LETTER FROM LAY! is this lay? actually posting?! everyone clap!

"happy birthday seaweed brain!" we all chant in unison with our fists in the air

#lay's love letter 𝜗𝜚 #percy jackson x reader #pjo #happy birthday perseus #hes such a messy eater i KNOW it #percy jackson fluff #percy jackson x y/n #percy jackson x you #Spotify

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avifaunaa · 3 months ago

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stars blind [ they fall and leave the sky ] [ f.a.+ r ] [ pt.2 ]

Authors Note: I’m so incredibly glad everyone seemed to enjoy the first part of this series! If anyone has requested to be put onto a tag list for this series, I’ll try to remember to add it in. Also to add: apologies for the shorter update -- this is meant to be a bridge between One and Three, so it fills in some gaps.

Masterlist

PART ONE | PART THREE

Pairing: Feyre Archeron x fem!reader x Rhysand / Platonic!Inner Circle x fem!reader

Summary: Feyre and Rhysand find their mating marks that are duplicates to your own — perfect matches — and have a discussion what that means. Amren and Mor make a decision together. Windweaver hides.

Content Warnings: Mating bonds + discussion thereof [ reminder: this is canon in nature, but i take liberties and play around with mating bonds thus deepening the meaning of this AU ], Court politics, mentions of Windweaver’s past trauma that is not directly gone into this chapter, cliffhanger [ sorry ]

Word Count: ~3.7k

You wait in the spacious entry way of the home of Iris — a chirpy blonde High Fae who was incredibly well known for watching children for a fair price while parents worked or tended to other matters.

Mor had been the one to give her a place for you — it was increasingly difficult to get into the daycare and the fact that Mor put in a word for you was a kindness you could never pay back.

You were the last to arrive as you usually were — but Iris never seemed to mind. She understood your position in this new world and was accommodating and it was once more a kindness that you couldn’t afford.

You refused to look at yourself in the large mirror hanging above the entrance to the side. Now that you knew what was engraved into your skin, you would never be able fully hide it. Or escape whatever bond thrummed on the other side.

And yet you felt nothing. Nothing but empty black loneliness when you reached out to where your mother told you mating bonds usually rested in that part of the soul, in that part of the heart, in that part of the mind.

Nothing was there, and that was perhaps the best part of it even when it stung like nettle. It meant that whoever the Cauldron found you worthy to mate with was unaware and uninterested in a bond.

Until they found their own marks, you supposed.

“Here she is!” Iris sang, walking out with Astraea sleeping soundly, drooling on her shoulder.

“Oh, she’s knocked out,” you said with a smile, heart warming soundly at the sight of your daughter. Black hair and pale skin — features of your mother, her eyes belonging to a man long since gone.

“We painted today,” Iris told you as she made the exchange, sliding Astra into your hold. The tiny little thing wrapped arms around your shoulders, snuggling in close and sighing but not waking a second. “Next time you come in I’ll give it to you. Our High Lady will be coming in soon to teach a class.”

“The High Lady?” You didn’t hide your surprise. She hadn’t been seen out since the birth of her son — unless it was to walk through the Rainbow. You knew little around the events of the little one’s birth, other than rumors about wings and pain.

“Oh yes. She decided she’s going to come help out with the children — and bring Nyx, too. He needs socialization with other children his age. But it seems Astra is the closest to it right now.”

You chewed the inside of your cheek, a nervous tick unsettling the heart within your chest.

"Oh, that will be wonderful," you say out loud instead of voicing your fears. You had yet to be approached by the High Lord or his Lady about your heritage and Mor and Amren had both been as welcoming as members of the Inner Circle can afford to be to newcomers.

You exchanged a few more pleasantries, your payment is given to Iris, and you are quick to whisk your sleepy daughter off. You are greeted by the chilly air and your scarf does little to keep the bite from your cheeks that comes with the breeze.

The walk to your rented apartment is five minutes from Iris' home and it was nice. You felt like you could easily get everywhere within easy walking distance and not have to use your magic to speed your walking along.

Not that you would have used your magic at all.

You walk up the side stairs on the building, climbing up and up and up until you reach the third floor. Your door was the first on the right and the bulky key was heavy and cold in your jacket's pocket when you pulled it free and pushed it into the key hole, twisting, unlocking, opening.

The apartment was nearly bare. It was furnished with the help of Mor -- thanks to her kindness to you. But it was basic and non-matching. You weren't here all the time -- either you spent time here with your daughter or slept. You preferred to take Astra out to explore the world and enjoy her surroundings while simultaneously exposing her to new things.

Astra's room was the most decorated, the most furnished, and the most cared for. You laid her down in her bed and got her dressed in her pajamas, all the while she hardly woke. She stuffed her thumb in her mouth and sighed as you pulled the covers over her.

You started toward the bathroom, removing earrings and clothes as you went.

That's the mating mark of a High Lord.

You find yourself standing in front of the dingy mirror in the bathroom — which was otherwise beautifully designed. Clean. Better than what you were once used to after Armantha’s takeover.

But when had it appeared? Mating marks were incredibly rare -- to the point that they were often forgotten about in history. They were connected to the more biological parts of Fae -- back when mating was more led by survival and the need to breed. Only those with very old bloodlines had mating marks anymore; bloodlines that predate much of even Old Prythian.

You pushed yourself off the sink, still tracing the outline you found yourself memorizing as you leaned over the tub to get the water started. It felt no different on your skin, had no way of showing itself other than its appearance.

You waited for the water to fill all the way to the top with near boiling heat. You never wanted to touch cold water again — even to drink. You drank it warm or you drank tea. You sank into the tub and shivered as the heat encased your skin and filled all the chilly, empty parts of you.

To have a mark that now only really ran through the lines of High Lords . . . that did not bode well on your end. Mostly because you've seen how angry High Fae males get when females have already been mated once before, but because it would force you to reveal your location to the very people you've been ensuring never find you.

Rhysand was frowning at her, and Feyre did not particularly enjoy it. She was rubbing some cream into her hands and trying to ignore him altogether.

He was all in a fuss lately and as much as she wanted to know what was getting to him this time, she figured he'd tell her if he really wanted to.

She settled under the covers with her book half-opened, getting comfortable against her lower back. After Nyx even with Nesta's wish, she still retained an ache from her pregnancy. It was manageable but not entirely easy to get rid of.

"Feyre, darling," her husband starts, "when did you get that?"

Feyre turns the page of her book before she humors him, tilting her face up. He's sat on the edge of the bed eyeing her, purple eyes twinkling with shock.

"The book?" she asked slyly, shutting it. "Nesta lent it to me. She said--"

Rhysand rolled his eyes. "I do not need to know what sort of filth your sister has you read when I'm not there to chaperone. I can't begin to think."

"It's a female on female romance, with sex."

Rhysand paused, blinked as if shocked, then rubbed his face with his hand. "We will address that at a later time. I have questions I think I will want answers too." He then pointed slightly to her left. "I meant that, just under your ear, of course."

Feyre reached her fingers up to trace under her ear as Rhysand had pointed out to her. She felt nothing but her studded earrings, done sometime after Nyx’s birth. “I don’t feel anything,” she said slowly, raising one of her brows at her mate.

He got to his feet and walked around the side of the bed and held out his palm. “Come with me, darling.”

Feyre hated to get out of bed now that she had gotten comfortable, but she put her book aside anyway and took his hand. He gently tugged her to the mirror on the far corner of the room, twirling her in a circle.

Feyre laughed at him, a bright smile lighting up hear features as he swung her to his front, arms wrapped around her just under her chest. He pressed a warm kiss to her cheek as they locked eyes in the mirror.

“My beautiful Feyre darling,” he said. His gaze was so soft, a rare sight that not many in the lands got to see. He reached up and began moving her hair away from the side of her head he had previously pointed out to her.

“Mm.” She watched him lazily, fingers tracing designs into his arm. She stopped her playing when she noticed what he had initially wanted her to see.

“That’s new,” she said, pulling herself out of his arms so she could lean forward and peer at the twirls and markings that cornered themselves behind her pointed ear. “I don’t think I’ve had that before. Did I?”

He shook his head, rubbing his jawline. “It’s . . . No. It’s an old magic, attached usually to a Fae with an old bloodline when they become mated.”

Feyre stared at him. “Okay,” she said slowly. “But I didn’t get it when we first mated.”

“You wouldn’t have, no,” Rhysand agreed, staring at the mark nervously. “I think . . . Well, I have an idea already on what it could mean and why you have it.”

Feyre turned around and bit her lip, peering at him with just as much nervousness. “I’d love to hear your idea, because if it’s connected to bloodlines that means it’s connected to yours somehow.”

“It connects very old bloodlines, I should say,” he told her, scratching his head as he thought over his words, “From a very old time when we still ran on pure instinct rather than reason. A time where magic was more alive, and it helped us. It would connect bloodlines that were stronger, more resilient.”

Feyre blinked at him. “Are you saying that you’re from one of those lines?”

“All High Lord families are. Many high society families are, actually. It’s how we got as far as we did. The marking wouldn’t have appeared on you initially because you were a human, once, and the old magic that runs in bloodlines like mine is thought by scholars to be being bred out over time.”

Feyre crosses her arms, resisting the urge to reach up and scratch the skin there. It suddenly itched now that she knew she had a shiny new marking there. “That makes sense. So it’s genetic. But it still makes no sense why I have it now.”

“Because I do believe there’s another factor at play.” He folded his hands, rubbing them together and not meeting her eyes.

“Rhys.” She reached her own hand out, hoping her touch soothed him. “Together. We can face whatever this is together — and you can tell me anything.”

“I think we have a third mate out there, somewhere,” he admitted quietly. “This is not a desire I have but a theory. If this potential mate has come into close contact at some point, their scent would have activated the other’s genetic magic in their bloodstream.”

Feyre breathed out through her nostrils, taking in this information carefully. “Old magic that has a play in with genetics. I’m your true mate, but there’s also another one out there for us that shares a bond? Wouldn’t we have known?”

“It’s . . . different with the old magic. It lies dormant,” Rhysand explained as he led his wife back to bed and sat next to her on the mattress. “It only activates when a suitable mate has been scented. Like I said, it ties back to when we were living on baser instincts and our mating bonds were less decided by fate and the Cauldron.”

“So my mating bond to you is different than the mating bond we have with this person?” Feyre clarified, not angry, simply confused.

“In how it is formed carnally only, it will never change my bond with you nor will it make me desire you any less,” Rhysand assured her firmly, cupping her cheek and rubbing the jutted bone, beautiful and perfect in his eyes. “All I know is that we have a third, but because we’ve been out of the public for months . . .”

“It could have been anyone our friends’ scents dragged in,” Feyre finished, understanding. She felt comforted by Rhysand’s words but . . . But now that she allowed the words to fixate in her mind, she couldn’t help but lack anxiety in regard to her stability with Rhysand, only . . . Curiosity. Perhaps a need to understand.

Rhysand smiled sadly. “Yes. And whoever lies on the other end of the bond won’t be able to form a connection to us like we have to one another until we can . . . Consummate the bond, not unless we want to use our Daementi powers on them.”

“Is that more old magic at work?”

Rhysand nodded at her, and Feyre bit her lip. She thought over the entire binder of information Rhysand just threw on top of her. But honestly — thinking it over, it didn’t create an ugly animal of jealousy to think of their unnamed mate with Rhys. Or with her. Or with her and Rhys.

It was a lot, and maybe they needed to sleep a bit over it. To digest what this will mean for them as a couple, and for their dynamic, and for their family.

But Feyre’s gut told her nothing terrible could come from this — not if her mating with Rhysand was anything to go on.

Amren and Mor stared at each other three hours after Windweaver had made a hasty escape from the tavern, leaving them in her dust.

Rita had pretty much closed up around the two of them. She lived upstairs and Mor was someone who was trusted with a key if they stayed longer than Rita stayed open.

It was just them at their table, still sitting in complete silence as though afraid to speak aloud what they had experienced hours ago. What Windweaver had experienced.

“We should tell them,” Amren said for the fifth time as Mor brought the entire bottle of wine to her lips and drank.

“Why? I mean, I agree. Nothing comes from keeping information from our High Lord and Lady,” Mor said, head tilting back over the chair, “But do we want to put this stress on them? They were just discussing coming back out in the world. Feyre wants to take Nyx to meet other kids.”

“She has a mating mark of status. Old status, but status,” Amren ground out, and Mor could almost hear her canines gnashing against her other teeth.

“Yes, this is true.” Mor takes her feet off the table and leans close to Amren. “But do you know what bringing attention to this might mean? What it could do to her?”

Amren spun a ring — one of many and of little value to her, likely from Rhysand back when she was still a darker force much more dangerous than this one — on her index finger, long nail unbreaking against the metal.

“There are consequences to whatever actions we plan to take,” the darker haired female acknowledged begrudgingly. “But I dislike the ones that come with keeping this from Rhysand and Feyre.”

Mor hated to agree, but she couldn’t find it in her to disagree. She wanted Windweaver’s safety put at the top of their to-do list, but they’ll have to find a way to ensure that without keeping their High Lord and Lady in the dark about this.

“Fine,” Mor said, “we’ll bring it up. Tonight?”

Amren stole the bottle from her blonde friend, taking a swig from it. “If the girl’s still awake. She seems to go to bed early these days after the prince was born.”

Mor tapped her fingers along the tabletop. “Fine, tomorrow then.”

“Tomorrow,” Amren agreed.

They stayed to finish the bottle, falling into a silence of two respected comrades and friends.

You wake with a gasp as sweat soaked your forehead and dripped down your temples like raindrops.

You clutched your chest where the weight you felt in your nightmare had struck you and glanced around you rapidly as the heartbeat in your ears timed with the feeling in your chest.

Enclosed walls, four. A wood flooring with a soft rug in the middle of the room. A soft thick quilt, patched, that you gave birth in and carried your daughter around in for two long years before carting her here in it.

Not in the Spring Court. Away from the sickly smell of fresh flowers in bloom all year around and constant lukewarm weather that was too little for you to feel alive.

It was still dark outside, but you could see the hints of dawn beginning to reveal itself over the horizon. No sun.

Your favorite time of day.

You pushed the sheets and quilt off, pressing the heels of your hands to your eyes and sighing shakily as you gazed out the window for a moment to just take in the view.

You eventually got out of bed entirely; if you didn't you were at risk for not getting out at all for the rest of the day. That was not a type of day you could afford to have.

You went to the kitchen and started preparing breakfast for Astra, and while the eggs cooked you got her up. "S'ello Mama," she garbled.

"Hi, baby," you greeted, kissing her forehead and smiling warmly as she stretched her little arms out. She blinked sleepily at you. "Eggs?"

"Eggs," you agreed, holding out your hand in offer. She looked at it with hesitation as she normally did when it came to touch; she was not a child who welcomed it on a normal scale and the first two and a half years of her life play a large role in that.

She finally deemed it acceptable to place her tiny hand in yours and you smile at her, guiding her into the kitchen where smoke was now rising in the pan. "Oh no," Astra dolled.

"Shit." You set her in her chair and race toward the burnt crisps that were once eggs sizzling in the pan. You looked forlornly at the charred bits and dumped them in the sink, and instead turned to your daughter.

"Do you want to go to Caspian's for breakfast, Astra?"

Immediately the little girl's eyes lit up and she attempted to stand in her chair, "Cassie! Cassie," she garbled as you quickly went over to grab her and set her down like she wanted.

"Okay," you laughed quietly. "Lets' get you and myself dressed and we'll go see Cassie."

One hour, a toddler trying not to crawl away from every outfit you picked out, and a faceful of makeup later, you found yourself walking down the street with a babbling Astra in your arms. She was fired up now that you were well and truly on your way to her favorite place to eat.

"Oh, really?" you asked her as you passed the glass displays in the large windows. She then stuck her finger at the particular pastry that was always displayed and remained her tried and true favorite.

You opened the door and pushed your way in, causing the bell above the entrance to ring out your arrival. It was a busier morning than usual -- you tend to come before the rush so that Astra doesn't get overwhelmed, but for some reason today you weren't able to beat such a rush.

You were behind two people; both of them were huddled together and had a small babe between them. A male and female, whispering to the giggling, pudgy faced youngling.

"Windweaver!" Cassie called as she came at a brisk drift out of the kitchen, covered in sugar and flour, "Welcome! And little Astra, too!"

Just as you made to greet her back, you were cut short by the couple turning around and looking you in the eyes.

"Windweaver?" The High Lord of the Night Court repeated softly, tilting his head in interest while his wife narrowed her gaze at you.

TAG LIST: @motorsp0rt , @lifetobeareader , @hjgdhghoe , @mystirica-blog , @skyler129

PART THREE

#acotar #feyre acotar x reader #feyre archeron x reader #rhysand x reader #feysand x reader #fanfiction #inner circle

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thealtoduck · 11 months ago

Note

Son of Hera & Son of Iris as best friends? Yes!!

Hell yeah, they’d be ”those” best friends yk

The ”Energy, Power, Chemistry” duo!

Like the two best friends that are that are sort of scary because they give ”the look” together.

Absolute loyalty and confidence in each other.

Plus I love how much Hera and Iris are shown to be together in art:

These are just two examples but there’s more.

#percy jackson x male reader #percy jackson x male!reader #pjo x male reader #pjo x male!reader #son of hera #son of iris #son of hera!reader #son of iris!reader

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apocalypse-shuffle · 5 months ago

Text

BRUCE WAYNE | BATFAMILY (generalized fanon)

—

Going to Carnival w/ Bruce + some of the other bats (Bruce Wayne x Batmom!Reader)

Headcanons

SFW, established relationship(s), BATMOM, vigilante coordination, fluff, vacation, caribbean setting, civilian shenanigans, dancing, ✨the Fox Family ✨ -caribbean!reader

Mind my choppy ass yanking; it’s the story of my life, just go with it. Pictures used are just for aesthetics and have no contextual meaning to the story. (Pic source — Batman Vs Robin & Justice League: War DCAMU)

In true Bruce fashion he does extensive research for the occasion. He wants everything to go perfectly and can’t help but to obsess like the Batman he is.

He has to plan every last detail to make sure you have a brilliant time on your trip, obviously, but he also needs to make sure things with the rest of the Bats, Wayne Enterprises, the Justice League, and Arkham and Blackgate facilities will be okay while he’s gone. Gotham cannot fucking explode, implode, none of that shit while he’s on vacation; Bruce would never forgive himself.

Before you leave you give Bruce strict instructions that there is to be no working during your trip unless an emergency comes up. Predominantly - not wanting to disrupt what Dick has going on away from Gotham without good reason - you ask Jason to pull on the cowl for a day or two, to expand his usual patrol route as Red Hood, to keep in active contact with Stephanie (and maybe Kate), and to coordinate more closely with Barbara while Bruce is away.

In return for them picking up Bruce’s slack (more than usual, considering your husband has blind spots in his vigilantism that you are under no delusions about) you promise everyone something.

Steph her first handcrafted silver sterling bangle, Jason some fresh preserved lemongrass (some of which you’ll have to smuggle probably; but Bruce had a private jet for a reason and bringing regional herbs back to the States for his crime lord son, as someone who amounts to a long standing criminal himself, was by far the least illegal thing he’d done ever), to cover Barbara’s shifts as Oracle on coms for a few days while she’s away with the Birds of Prey, and to bring Kate back an island made covah/muumuu (in maroon) for the favor she was doing you.

Kate’s involvement at all is mostly due to her having been in the city by chance as Bruce was setting his vacation plans in motion; her and Luke happening to have just finished up their own mission overseas.

Superman is also aware that Bats is out of the country and is keeping an ear out (though he isn’t supposed to intervene without Jason or Babs asking with the exception of anything catastrophic happening so Superman isn’t indisposed without good reason). Neither you, nor Bruce, had needed to ask him either. Clark had heard all about how much Bruce was driving himself and, as a result, you up the wall for your (much needed in Bruce’s case) vacation from Lois after you’d spent half of Girl’s Night with her, Tanya, and Iris bemoaning your partner’s paranoia.

He’s straight up bemused when he's informed about Batman being “indisposed” for a week, but agrees to look out for the gloomy city while he’s away, and is smirking when he reminds Bruce to try letting that stick go lax for once while he’s in the tropics with you.

Bruce flushes to his ears and you laugh until you start to hack up a lung, hanging off of him as he holds you up by the waist and glares at his best friend. Clark plays dump like a master though, and eventually Bruce just has to grumble about him as you drag him back to the car to finish some last minute planning in Gotham.

Really, far too much work goes into just Bruce alone taking this trip with you. You can’t even imagine the hassle getting the other Bats you're close to down to your island for a visit will be.

You only get stopped by a handful of people during the trip as a whole (mostly visiting Americans), but the majority of people don’t recognize Bruce since he’s Gotham royalty. Because of this he doesn’t have to put on the Brucie persona outside of whatever expensive suite you’re staying in, and he doesn’t have to be Batman during the trip either, which helps him relax significantly better since he can just be Bruce. Like this he gets to be a regular person more than he’d usually get the opportunity to be when spending mundane civilian time as a couple (and as a family) in public.

The moment Damian sees more than two wild dogs Bruce and you have to pull out the ‘no picking up strays’ lecture because even through the rear view mirror you can see the glint in his eyes.

Bruce plans for Damian (and Duke, if he’s able to pull him away) to attend Children’s Parade. If Duke comes he squints at you the second the announcer explains which event exactly he’s at, but you just stare at him right back and remind him that he is a child and that he needs to get up out your face and go do child shit already.

Damian is rather worse, but you lead the group closer to the steelpan players warming up and soon his complaining is drowned out by the beginnings of music. He stops speaking to glower at you and you only raise a brow alongside Bruce before he eventually gives in with a huff. Duke pats him on the back and leads him away to ‘go do child shit’.

Damian likes the parade, even at fourteen he’s not too old for that much despite the clear interest he tries to play off. And while he’s not going to be mystified by the Moko Jumbies (which you didn’t expect him to be) the fourteen year old does fully lock onto them when they come walking by and playing around on their stilts and decked in their colorful clothing and madras.

Cass agrees to come (mostly because she likes you, and also because Duke pouted about it) and ends up loving the majorettes. She follows every single group and cheers within her own limits the entire time.

Cass follows so closely to the steelpan players during their performance that you’re genuinely worried for her eardrums until you glance at Bruce worryingly and he gestures to his ears in explanation. Ear plugs; shed be alright.

Cass (and Luke) leave to go deal with some business that needs her that the Outsiders are dealing with, and instructs you fully to keep Bruce out of the loop until you get back from the trip, poking fun at Bruce before she leaves to go flaunt her expertise.

Duke is disappointed she’s going and that he won’t be able to meet up with the Outsiders again, but when you try nudging him to leave he shoots you down. They didn’t need him, he reasons. Plus, it was rare he ever got a true break from being Signal so he planned on taking advantage of the occasion— and vehemently stomping down the misplaced guilt he was feeling bcs of that with some help from Bruce.

Duke doesn’t tell you, and neither does Damian, but your youngest isn’t as aggrieved as he *thinks* he should be about the break from fighting villains and running around on rooftops that he’s taking either, even more so than Duke right then.

After Cass is gone you guys lose Duke and Dami for a solid three hours. Most every call to them is answered, but only with a cryptic reassurance that they aren’t doing anything illegal. When they finally do come back they keep mum about what they were up to but smell suspiciously of soot.

Bruce fully suspects that they managed to get into the building where the fireworks and pyrotechnics are being kept. You give the boys a stern look but make Bruce let it go since nothing actually managed to go up in flames, and because you’re sure they had a good reason (*cue mom glare*).

Duke might not be your son but he still helps Damian bribe you with some of the foods you haven’t been able to have as authentically in Gotham until you convince Bruce to let them run off again.

Shock of all shocks (not) Damian prefers coconut tarts.

Duke wants to like the pineapple tarts — because it’s “on brand” — but it’s the guava that wins him over.

Unlike his son Bruce is not a fan of any of the tarts, but you’ve long realized that he likes less obtrusive sweet things like banana fritters more.

Damian and Duke at random intervals intercept you and Bruce walking around to inquire about certain murals, art installations, or statues that you’re passing.

Duke also steadily extracts a promise from you to put together a playlist with all the soca music playing around ayo during the parade in it for him to listen to whenever he’s in a music mood. Shazam just wasn’t moving fast enough for him to collect the songs himself while also running around.

By the end of the night (ayo have been out since Carnival started) Duke has his face painted, there’s confetti in his hair, and he’s legitimately ready to go to sleep due to how hard he'd been ramping all over the place. In comparison, Damian’s neck is decorated with beaded necklace after beaded necklace, he’s eaten more tarts than you could keep track of, and is still as ready to conquer the night as ever.

Neither boy particularly likes the fireworks, though Duke is more forgiving since he’s mostly just tired. Bruce likes seeing the way you light up though. While you don’t stay all the way through the show you do stay for a good while because Bruce loves you and wants you to enjoy yourself.

You and Bruce attend Adult’s Parade on your own. Though you’re sure that the boys are getting up to trouble, also running off from where you’re all staying, since you only really have Lucious and Tanya free enough to verbally check up on and keep an eye on Damian and Duke (and their trackers). Lucious had volunteered to keep closer track of their positions during his months long leave — rather than Barbara having to do so when she needed to focus more on coordinating everyone back in Gotham — and Tanya hadn’t minded. It wasn’t like checking in actually stopped her and her husband from doing anything. Bruce promises them a care package anyway.

Bruce wouldn’t really like dancing in the parade circuit or being a part of a troop. He’d much rather prefer the other days of Carnival to attend with you specifically: live concert days, cultural nights, art galleries, and most especially touring any of the island's historical sights.

He’s not as generally excited about the food, but he does love (if you’re inclined) how partial you are to the options presented by all the food vendors and is more than willing to indulge you.

If there’s one available he’ll sign you guys up for a sightseeing relay race as a surprise. How good or bad of a surprise you view the race through your island’s various monuments and beaches depends on you. Honestly, there’s a high chance you didn’t even know they held a race for the event season.

All of these things are just a much more mellow way for Bruce to connect with you and for you both to share in your culture.

He will, however, absolutely not deny you going to dance with a troop at all despite participating in the parade not being his thing. Depending on what you want he either won’t or will come (and if he doesn’t it’s bcs you’ve gone with your friends or whatever), but if he does come Bruce will under no circumstances dance in front of so many people when he’s not having to put on the Brucie persona (which he certainly doesn’t want to put on whilst on vacation).

Mostly Bruce just goes with you but doesn’t dance (it’s hard to follow/track people on the sidelines behind gates and/or between people sitting or standing on the sides of the street to watch the parade).

Mostly lets you dress him begrudgingly. Though he does like matching with you he still isn’t used to being dressed so loudly and inconspicuously.

Bruce is dressed for the weather (only in all red) and wearing shades. His hair is all fluffy without any product in it and he’s wearing fishnets and streams of ribbons that match the ones you’re wearing with your full getup of colorful billowing fabrics, short clothes, and sequin adornments in matching with your troop/section of the parade and the band you’re dancing with.

He’s perfectly happy to hold onto things for you and others if need be and is otherwise not broody or anything. Even just getting him to have a little bounce in his step while walking with you is a win that’s easy to come by.

Bruce is also an absolute sight in fishnets. If the tabloid and gossip mags could see his abs in the colorful sleeveless fishnet “shirt” he’s got on under his short sleeve button up they’d be losing their minds as much as you are. He looks very nice and you tell him as much when you’re pinning and draping streams of colorful madras and printed fabric to the shoulders of his shirt.

In turn Bruce literally pauses mid call, earpiece in, when you come out of the bathroom dressed in your Carnival gear (or outfit, if you’re not a part of a more strict troop). In your shorts and colorful ribbons and ting you’re a vision and he nearly forgets to end his call before crowding you for a kiss.

The ribbons you’re wearing, and that you’ve pinned to Bruce as well, are traditionally reminiscent of maypole ribbons that your forebears had stripped the poles of in order to wear them in celebration of their freedom.

As opposed to wearing comfortable sneakers you’re in the pair of practical combat boots Bruce got you that you’ve decorated to be on theme with the rest of your getup. He is also in those same boots in his own size.

Alternatively, if you’re wearing feathers and an intricate headpiece then Bruce is wearing an approximation of your costume too. He’s still dressed in an expensive pair of board shorts and a linen short sleeve button down, but now he’d be in all black with his only pops of bright colors being from the parts of his outfit that match what you’re wearing. You’re both wearing matching arm/leg bracers & the same feathers you used have been adorned to make a little crown at the back of his head like the one you’re wearing.

Bruce is decked out with jewel accents and sequins too and you're almost shocked at how much he’s indulged you by the time you're finished getting him ready.

To match with the brightly colored boot covers you’re wearing to match the main feathers of your troop’s costumes you give him similarly colored ribbons to tie to the tops of his boots. It’s cute, and you tell Bruce as much just so you can see him blush.

No matter how you’re dressed Bruce stays compliant as you help get him together; letting you talk in circles at his continued prompting about the history steeped into the event you’re getting ready for. His voice is soft as he leads you into explaining the reasons behind the various things you’re decorating him with for the celebration.

Because Bruce isn’t fully matching with the troop he stays at the back of the line (though this does depend on how strict the troop is). You move throughout as you please while dancing and looking uniform with the other women you’re with, but you still gravitate back into Bruce’s orbit intermittently as well.

Bruce absolutely lets you dance on him even though he’s not dancing himself, and he also brings wipes for whenever you drop down to your hands to wukup with your hands to the ground and ass to the air or lose your balance while dancing low to the ground and have to catch yourself.

He loves watching, and he is both happy you’re happy and very eager to get you alone again. You don’t have to hold back or tamp yourself down with Bruce.

If you’re less built for long term walking, or older and been with Bruce for a hot minute, you’re going to end up on Bruce’s back at some point, your knees just aren’t up for the journey the way your spirit is. He’s happy to carry you, and it’s his insistence when he sees you starting to limp or asking for whatever walking aid you might have that gets you hanging off his shoulders in the first place.

You are absolutely no less wutless up there, however, and Bruce only laughs and hikes you up more securely as you cheer and wukup and wine your waist as he’s carrying you. This was a celebration of freedom and emancipation after all, you were going to be as excited and hype as you could possibly be.

From your new vantage point you kiss him on the cheek too and he’s smiling ear to ear the whole time.

When you go to the other events outside of the parades Bruce is more of an active participant.

At concerts Bruce hums. He’s not somehow immune to music or anything, and he tends to hum whenever he lets his mind wander no matter how scarcely he actually allows himself to relax that thoroughly even when you’re back in Gotham. So you’re not shocked when he starts humming while you’re enjoying the live concert music.

When he becomes attuned enough to the rhythms he sways, movements unhurried and gentle, and pulls you closer until you’re both rocking. His arms wrapped around your middle, his warmth at your back, and voice in your ear are a greater balm to your spirit than most anything else on the entire planet and you let Bruce support a lot of your weight as you sing along to the musical acts you're familiar with.

He’s stiff as a board the second you try dragging him into full blown dancing, however. You only laugh at him staring at you like you’re about to announce he’s Batman to the whole of the island, and you know it’s about time you guys find some place to sit down (and hopefully eat) since you’ve been out since daybreak.

Bruce’s tolerance is high nuh raas, so it is near impossible to get his backside drunk by any normal means. Due to this you don’t really end up drunk either, you just end up feeding him sips of half shots of different flavors of rum and have a blast as he rates them while ayo laugh together and listen to people pound melee around you and eat your dinner.

Come to find out Bruce cannot stand coconut rum. You’re thinking coconut and him just don’t agree, and vow to crack one open fresh so he can try some coconut jelly as the real test of his preference.

Throughout the entire trip Bruce actually likes the tan he develops, no matter how used you both are to his Gotham pallor.

The darker, richer, sheen to the brown plains of your skin that you develop over the course of the trip throws Bruce similarly into a tailspin as his tan does you. He loves it, and your new shine coupled with just how much more radiant your excitement at being back in your element has made you has him calling you all variations of beautiful more often than is even his usual (which is saying something because your husband can’t get enough of you and makes a point of never letting you forget).

You also catch Bruce checking in on everyone’s nighttime activities back in Gotham two days in and can only sigh as you press his computer closed and cock your eyebrow at him. He at least has the sense to look embarrassed, grunting a short excuse before he apologizes. The rest of your trip goes on without a hitch after that, however (as far as you know).

NOTES: Hope you enjoyed!!! I’m nervous about this one, I’m not even going to lie, but whatever.

Anyway, I have other characters I want to put in this type of scenario as well so let me know if there’s anything specific you’d maybe like to see. This isn’t all encompassing either, but just what’s come to me by now.

Also, I want to write for the Foxes, but I’ve got to read up on them more before then so it’ll be a while. Also also, we’re going to pretend like all of these characters’ lives are actually stable — and that Tanya in particular doesn’t despise masked vigilantes because I’m allowed to want that (tho that might only be Future State timeline shit so idk).

This fic has a series tag so if you’d like to read the other festival/carnival entries then clicking on that tag would be how you’d find them.

btw: if you’d like to leave a comment I’d very much appreciate it!

—

Caribbean words of the Day (ie: the glossary):

“Ayo” (pronounced “īˈyō” 2 syllables) — meaning and use equivalent to “you all” or “y’all”. There’s also a greater origin to where the word as a whole comes from but I’m not going to get into all of that rn.

“Nuh Raas” — I don’t really have a direct translation for this one; the most I can do is compare its use to “like fuck” or “as hell” and other comparative sayings like those. It’s a way to further exaggerate something; think “very”.

EX: “Bruce’s tolerance is very high.” = “Bruce’s tolerance is high nuh raas.” 🤷🏾‍♀️

“Pound Melee” — the action of gossiping; seriously talking other people’s business or talking shit.

“Wutless” — Meaning ‘troublesome’; a

Caribbean slang, also means to not care profoundly about anything, and just having a hell of a time not caring what anyone says or thinks of you. (def taken from here, though I spelt it differently bcs that how I hear it)

*remember, though, that dialects are regional so the words in this glossary aren’t used by every caribbean*

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kurogxrix · 1 year ago

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Under Wraps

Bruce Wayne x Wife!reader

IN WHICH Bruce and you deal with the aftermath of your kidnapping.

WC: 1.8k

warnings: ANGST, mentions of kidnapping, injuries, PTSD, soft!Bruce.

A/N: Ive l’ost all motivation in writing as of recently and had to FORCE myself to write this for a whole ass month😭 so it’s really nothing great.

The tense silence that lingered between you two was suffocating, albeit all windows in the room being wide open. You just couldn’t get yourself to speak, and Bruce just didn’t know what to say. He never does, but you love him either way. it’s funny to see the cocky billionaire flaunt all of his riches out to the world while he softens for you.

You sat upon the edge of your shared bed with your head in your hands, unable to make out whatever you husband was fumbling with behind you. The feeling of being in the opposite man’s grasp was so fresh to you, like a new scar that your brain harboured. Not only mentally, but the haunting mark across your wrists and neck were yet another temporary reminder of what had happened to you that night.

Oftentimes throughout the night you found yourself being ashamed for a reason or the other. Your husband’s been through worse, so have your sons, and yet your brain couldn’t help but replay the disturbing images of the moment you’d lost Bruce at the gala. You sighed in the comfort of your hands, forcing your eyelids shut impossibly further than they already were to try and shoo the nightmares away.

Your clothes laid messily somewhere across the floor, a bloody and muddy mess that Bruce had quickly drawn off of you before ushering you into a warm shower. He’d then dressed you in a silky robe, and that was the end of it before you’d end up on the edge of the bed, alone with your thoughts despite your husband being in the same room as you.

Your ears fell deaf to the sound of constant rustling of cloth, so much that you failed to hear him crouch before you as he settled comfortably on his knees.

Rough hands gently pried at your own, pulling them away from their protective stance around your face. The sudden lack of covering made you scrunch your nose in dismay, but a quick look from those hazel eyes before you had you relaxing. Bruce made a quick work out of the situation, silent as ever as his hands came to undo the knot around your robe that he himself had previously tied.

You didn’t complain as his hands pushed at your robe, revealing the naked torso that Bruce had seen so many times before. The soft sigh that escaped your husband didn’t go deaf to your ears, and you closed your eyes once more as you awaited for the tingly feeling of his fingers. Seconds passed in sterile silence before you finally felt the scarred skin upon your own, except instead of balm covered fingers, you were met with his warm, bare ones.

You opened your eyes to the sight of your dishevelled husband staring down at your bruised torso, the balms and bandages that were once in his left hand now abandoned beside you on the bed. His right hand held onto your side like an anchor, wide thumb pressing against your stomach. Bruce kneeling between your open legs was a sight that you’d never get tired of, but this time you could only pray for it to end.

Hazel iris traced the dark spots littering your torso with a shame that was beyond their ability. Tiny hairs across his hairline stuck to his forehead due to cold sweat, and you brought a hand down to smooth them behind, little to no care for the tacky fluid rubbing onto your hand. Slowly by slowly, you began caressing your way down his face, smoothing out the wrinkles accumulating on his face before stopping on the edge of his jaw.

The feeling of your fingers, alive and warm upon his freshly shaven jaw caused his fingers to involuntary clench on your side. The painful hiss that escaped your mouth was enough to snap your husband out of his stance, fingers almost immediately unclenching from their grip.

Masochistic as it was, you were somewhat glad for the pain. It reminded you that you were alive and well, there in the mansion with your husband. It also managed to get those brown eyes that you loved so much to snap upwards towards you. They held so many feelings in there that you believed you could not be able to tend to them all in one night.

“I’m sorry,” it left his lips faster than your brain could comprehend, and you were left dumbfounded yourself at those two little words. Meaningless in most relationships, those words were nothing that you’d ever hear coming on of the one and only Bruce Wayne’s lips. He was cocky, always flaunting his riches to those who seeked.

“It’s okay, it only hurt for a second.” you lied, because the throbbing pain still coursing through your right side threatened to sell you out. You could tell that Bruce wasn’t buying it, so much for being Gotham’s greatest detective. Nevertheless, your hand resumed its delicate caressing upon his cheek, a ruse to take his mind away from the little slip up.

You could practically see the gears turning inside his head, trying to decipher why in hell you would be lying to him about this out of everything. Yet again he’d worried far too much over you in one night, you wouldn’t let his mind collapse over something so minor.

Bruce didn’t wait for your approval before shifting on his knees, hands grabbing at the balms that looked humorously tiny compared to his large palm. The cold paste spreads smoothly upon the tip of his fingers, and soon they’re on your skin. The sensation made you flinch, but the reassuring hand that laid on your knee made you calm down. You thought it was crazy how such a simple thing could make you relax so easily, yet again marriage and love were another crazy thing of their own.

Your fingers clenched on their own as you felt

your throat tightening. No. Hell no, you wouldn’t let Bruce see you cry after the hectic course of fucking hell of days that you’d put him through. That selfless side of you that was present most of the time was yelling at you to stay strong, and yet the sight of your burly, rough and yet caring husband doting after you following your accident, you couldn’t hold it in anymore.

You fingers clenched into a fist, nails digging little crescent moon into the skin of your palm as

you gritted your teeth together to hold in a loud sob threatening to escape past your lips involuntarily. From his spot on the floor, Bruce froze at the sight of the soft, rhythmic movements that swayed at your chest. From the corner of his eyes nevertheless, and in the dimness of the enclosed room, his senses never failed him.

Tilting his face up to meet your own, his fingers unwillingly clenched around the poor tin can of balm upon his hands. The tears that you were trying so hard to keep in pooled at your waterline, entangling in your bottom lashes before escaping on their own accord. He watched as your chest shook, exasperation taking over your body before you could even cry to him. Yet you weren’t doing it, and for some reason Bruce knew that he had some part to play in it.

He remained silent as his hand came to clutch onto your own. Then, the sobs shook you and you just couldn’t hold it in anymore. You jumped from your seat on the edge of the bed and straight into his awaiting embrace, arms thrown tightly around the broad neck. Bruce felt his heart squeezing at the sound of your distraught cries, like the Joker himself had his heart placed and chained on some sort of death carousel.

Nothing was more painful to Bruce than family. The bad and the good hurt. Like when happiness would grasp at his heart so hard that it’d physically hurt. Only family could achieve that for him, yet life wasn’t always favourable, and the bat knew that better than anyone else. He could make a list of things, one shittier and more tragic than the other, that’s happened to Bruce ever since he was but a little boy, and yet, his heart never got more of in a twist than at the sight of a member of his family hurting.

Your breath staggered, and your husband felt the warm exhale of you trying to stabilise yourself upon his neck. A large, ringless, and warm palm found its way to the small of your back like a collarless dog chasing home. Suddenly, another bare hand fell upon your back as Bruce embraced you against his chest fully.

The room was void of any noise save for the agonising sounds of your pained sobs. Bruce didn’t need to ask anything, he didn’t need to inquire to know that you were hurt. All the more scared and traumatised after your encounter with the Joker. His large palm rubbed comforting circles along your back as you laid motionless in his warm embrace.

“You’re home now,” he muttered, as though it would help appease all of the new scars and fears that you'd acquired in the span of a few days.

“I’m glad.” you breathed out from your position in the crook of his neck, feeling like you’d break down again if you spoke too much. The both of you occupied your positions on the floor for far longer than normal, only splitting apart to rejoin the comfort of the soft mattress after you’d whined in pain following a slight movement to adjust yourself on his lap.

Bruce made a quick and effortless job of carrying you back to bed, pausing in his movements when you’d told him you’d feel better to sleep with the side lamp on tonight. The frown on his face deepened at your comment, yet he didn’t allow you to see it as he kept his back to you despite complying. Settling in bed was even harder for you than you expected, unable to wrap your arms around the muscular torso of your husband and rest your head upon his chest as your injury unabled you to.

Sleep didn’t come easy either, plagued with nightmares that previously didn’t exist in the far back of your mind. Bruce was here with you through it all, his sleeping habits aiding him to wake by the moment you’d stir awake. That night, Batman slept but Bruce didn’t, but the feeling of your pulse regaining its normal beat as you laid with your back against his chest erased Bruce’s ability to care. Safe and sound under the wraps.

anyways that was that….

#bruce wayne x reader #batman x reader #bruce wayne x fem!reader #bruce wayne x batmom #batmom #bruce wayne x you #bruce wayne oneshot #bruce wayne x wife!reader #the dark knight #bruce wayne angst #bruce wayne fluff

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bvidzsoo · 11 months ago

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Cosmically divine

☆ Synopsis: Olympus, the place where Gods play pretend and do as they wish. Dion, the place where mere mortals suffer and do as the Gods wish. One might wonder, is life ever fair? ★

☆ Author: bvidzsoo ★

☆ Pairing: Ateez members x female reader ★

☆ Rating: nsfw, 18+ ★

☆ Genre: Greek mythology, dark romance, violence, smut, gore

☆ Status: on-going ★

☆ 1. Choi San x female reader ★

༄ ҉ 　Underwater ◖Ares x Naiad Nymph!au◗

Summary: You knew that your love would never be fulfilled as the man you loved belonged to another woman. But can you help your poor Naiad heart when San, the God of war himself, seeks you out again and again when he is most vulnerable?

☆ 2. Kang Yeosang x female reader ★

༄ ҉ 　Marionette ◖Aphrodite!au◗

Summary: Doomed from the beginning, your mother, Hera, only saw a weapon in you. If you had once thought she loved you, she proved you wrong the second she cast you away once you failed to kill her enemy's son. Yeosang, Aphrodite's dearest and most prized offspring.

☆ 3. Kim Hongjoong x female reader ★

༄ ҉ 　Color of love ◖Hermes x Iris!au◗

Summary: If there was a God everyone feared, perhaps it was Zeus. After the continuous abuse he's put you through, you never thought you'd get to live your eternal life peacefully. That is, until the messenger God shows up and whisks you away before Zeus can see and stop him.

☆ 4. Jung Wooyoung x female reader ★

༄ ҉ 　Kingdom come ◖Oread Nymph x Dryad Nymph!au◗

Summary: Nymphs were nothing but deities that preserved nature and allowed the Gods to love them in return for their blessings. And when Zeus lurks around, you are labelled as his, never to be touched by anyone in the whole cosmos. But can you help yourself when the man he claims is Wooyoung himself? The gorgeous and warm-hearted Oread that coincidentally returns your forbidden feelings for him?

☆ 5. Song Mingi x female reader ★

༄ ҉ 　Dead man running ◖Hades!au◗

Summary: You were cursed, at least that's what your family thought about you. After a while, you started believing it too, the shadows that whispered to you convincing you that you were either crazy or just...different. And maybe you were, after all, the God of death himself, wouldn't have just called you his little shadow without a reason, right?

☆ 6. Choi Jongho x female reader ★

༄ ҉ 　Nightmare ◖Phobos!au◗

Summary: Coming from a family that thrived under pressure and mayhem, it was only a matter of time until your father allowed you to join him on the battlefield. But perhaps what set you apart from other warrior families was the fact that each one of you worshiped a God of war. You just happened to make the mistake of offering yourself up to one in exchange for your dear sibling's life.

☆ 7. Jeong Yunho x female reader ★

༄ ҉ 　One Kiss ◖Atë!au◗

Summary: Cast out of Olympus because Zeus has had enough of the mayhem and craze you created amongst men, living and meddling with mortals changed nothing. You thrived off of stupid men falling to their knees and begging you for attention, promising things no mortal could offer. But when a pure, untouched, and unassuming boy might just fall into your trap, you can't help yourself and entice him just to the point of madness.

☆ 8. Park Seonghwa x female reader ★

༄ ҉ 　Moonlight Melody ◖Poseidon!au◗

Summary: You always thought the man of your dreams never existed, would never come and whisk you away from this terrible terrible life that you lived. And perhaps when he starts showing up in your dreams, with promises that he'd soon come and see you, you find yourself hoping for a love that only the stars would bear witness to.

☆ A/N: Hello, my lovelies, I am here with a new story, can you believe it?! Because I can't lol, this wasn't supposed to exist but I thought...why not? Updates won't be too frequent, probably, as I have got quite a few others things to write, but I can't wait for you all to see what I have planned here! ^^ These stories won't be too dark, but I felt it necessary to mention dark romance as we're still dealing with some ambiguous topics. Taglist, as usual, is open and you are all very welcomed to comment on this post if you'd like to be added! Thank you for showing love, support, and interest in my works on here, they mean the world to me! <3 divider ★

↳Perm. taglist: @orshii @jjoongstar @tinyelfperson @thestarskiller @zuuhaa

@aaa-sia @gong-fourz @a-tinycarat @sooberryworld @hopefulrascalstatesmantoad

@anastasiamin860 @yunhogrippers @vcutparis @tunaasan @blvckarabixnvoid

@yusalterego @arigakittyo @slowee00 @jaerisdiction @hey-syia

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❀ complete the forms if you're interested! ^^

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