#they looked so sad looking at me. i wonder what i looked like

[k-dgn]

Sana's Web

New Writer Debut, A/N at the end! 7.7k Words

~ CHAPTER 1: Forming a Thread ~

SN: Schedules ended early, so I stopped by your place. Don't keep me waiting too long! 

You were currently at your studio downtown working on edits for your latest client. Some headshots and stills for a new group YG was set to debut later that year, your usual routine. After working in the photography industry for so long, coupled with the rate at which new groups were being pushed out, all the idols seemed to start blending together in your head. Still, you counted yourself blessed and fortunate enough to be able to work with the people that you had. Though you tended not to get starstruck as easily anymore, you thought back to a particular photoshoot you were hired for a couple months prior that hit you a bit differently. When you got the email from a JYP representative that said they were interested in your body of work and wanted to bring you onboard for a solo member project they were working on, you couldn't deny that you weren't at least a little excited to see who you'd be getting the opportunity to work with. You had gotten a chance to work with idols from most of the top name agencies, but this would be the first project you'd be working on under JYP.

On the day of the shoot, your mind was racing thinking about who it could be, but those thoughts were instantly washed away when Sana walked on set. It turned out that the project you were hired for was the next in a line of “Yes, I am” photobooks the company was putting out. After laying out your vision and going over the general game plan for the day, you all got to work. Throughout the shoot you remained the consummate professional that you always were, but you would be remiss if you did not acknowledge how captivating Sana was. She had this inexplicable aura to her that kept drawing you in, only for her to swerve your expectations with an ever-present bubbliness that she had all but trademarked at this point in her career. In between set and outfit changes, you would show her shot previews asking for her opinions. She gave input here and there, even suggesting some things she wanted to try that not even you had thought of, further cementing her status as a veteran idol in the industry. 

All that was fine and well, but it was the little things she would do and the small details you'd take notice of in between shots that made this particular day feel a little different. The way she would lean in close to your shoulder as you showed her the camera. The way her eyes sparkled whenever she looked at you, giving you her full undivided attention whenever you paused the shoot to give her some direction. The way her smile lit up the room when she liked a certain shot preview. You weren't uncomfortable with the atmosphere she was creating on set between the two of you, in fact it was quite the opposite. You were almost more nervous that you were being too comfortable and that it might be perceived as being unprofessional. You tried your best to shake it off, coping that this was just how her personality was, but in the back of your mind a thought flickered that maybe, just maybe there could be a little something more going on there. Nevertheless, you trucked on and finished the rest of the shoot without issue. 

A little part of you was sad that your wonderful time working with Sana had come to an end, but you were grateful for the opportunity either way. You spent the next few days compiling and editing the best shots from the day before sending it over to the company, thanking them for bringing you onboard and stating your openness to future projects with them. Afterwards, all you could do was  hold out some hope that her company would hire you for future endeavors.

Another week passed by and you still hadn’t heard back. Just as you had started to give up hope, you finally received a response, but it was a little different than what you were expecting. Instead of a JYP representative, the message was from Sana’s personal manager. In it, it said that Sana had really enjoyed the finished shots and wanted to thank you personally, leaving you a time and place to be at. As ecstatic as you were, you kept your composure and replied back, thanking them once again for the opportunity and that you’d be happy to meet up. 

On the date scheduled for you, you pulled up to the JYP building and parked in the garage. It turned out that the company had closed off their downstairs public café for a few hours per Sana’s request to give the two of you some privacy. When you walked in, you saw Sana sitting and leaning back at a booth in the corner away from the cashier stand, scrolling on her phone to pass time waiting for you to arrive. She was dressed rather comfortably wearing an pink oversized knit sweater adorning her arms. Underneath, you could see she was wearing a black top, its thin straps hanging on to her exposed shoulders. You remember thinking that even dressed down, she was jaw-dropping.You had to admit, you were a bit nervous being alone with her for the first time, but you steeled your resolve and made your way to the booth. As you approached, you remembered the feeling you got when she looked up and flashed you a smile. Even to this day, you’d never forgotten the look she gave you when she beckoned you to come join her, placing her phone down and once again giving you her full attention.

The two of you exchanged pleasantries and started up some small talk. She told you that she was overjoyed to see the end results of the shoot, and that she felt like you had made her look especially pretty that day. Thinking quickly on your feet, you smiled and countered that you really didn’t do anything, and that her visuals came to light all on her own. You even went ahead and thanked her, going so far as to say that it was one of the easiest and most fun shoots you’d had the pleasure of doing. You then remarked that she was just as pretty today without all the fancy clothes as she was when you last saw her. That compliment seemed to do it as she giggled and playfully hit your hand, replying that you didn’t look too bad yourself as she quickly eyed you. She then inquired about you for a bit, wanting to know a little bit more about the person behind the camera. 

As you started going through your backstory, she placed her elbows on the table between you, interlacing her fingers and resting her chin on her hands. Between her arms, you could see the slightest hint of her cleavage peeking through. Though she wasn’t as endowed as some of the other members in her group, you remember thinking that what she had suited her quite well. In that moment, she was truly embodying the cutie-sexy persona that she had become famous for. Her eyes remained locked on yours as you spoke, sometimes nodding her head showing that she had a genuine interest in learning more about you. You eyes however were having slight troubles reciprocating. There were a couple of instances where you caught your gaze trailing downwards, but you swiftly corrected yourself hoping that she wouldn’t notice. It was your first time being alone with her 1-on-1 after all and you didn’t want to leave her with a bad impression, even though you couldn’t deny that you liked what you were seeing. 

Unbeknownst to you, she was doing everything with a purpose. She knew from the moment she leaned forward that she had you in the palm of her hand, but wanted to let you finish your story before moving ahead with her real plan. After you wrapped up, her hands dropped to the table as she hugged her arms, accentuating her bust even more as she leaned forward. Your eyes glanced downward one last time, but this time she made it known that she caught you red-handed, her beautiful smile growing even bigger. As you nervously tried to laugh it off, in a calm voice she told you something that you’d never forget for the rest of your life:

"So…I know you've probably worked with a lot of big time idols..." Sana said as she leaned forward, slowly sliding her hand across the table before placing it on top of yours. "...but have you ever fucked one before?" 

You silently gulped as your eyes trailed from her hand up to her eyes. The cute, bubbly idol known the world over was nowhere to be seen. In front of you now was a vixen, her eyes lidded as the corners of her lips curled into a devilish smile, her true intentions for this meetup clear as day. 

That day was the first of many more meetups to come. Some days she’d message you to come by her apartment, other times she’d say she’d go to yours. Either way, they all ended the same way: the two of you heaving for air next to each other after another lust-filled night. It was primal the way the two of you would go at one another. From the second the two of you got your hands on each other, it was like nothing could ever tear the two of you apart. She was almost insatiable in the way she would be all over you, making you feel each and every bit of her entire being. Clearly, whatever you did seemed to check all the boxes for her as she kept coming back for more. What started off as a call maybe once a week quickly evolved into one every few days. You weren’t one to complain though. She was arguably one of the most attractive idols in the entire industry, so you made sure to make the time whenever she wanted it. Fast-forward a couple of months later, and today was another one of those times.

-----

A couple of hours passed and after finishing your work for the day and rushing back home, you were now in the elevator on the way up to your apartment. Given your resumé, you did quite well for yourself, getting a nice top-floor apartment in a secluded corner of the building away from the potential prying eyes of neighbors. You input the code to your door, the same code you had given to Sana a few weeks prior since she frequented your place so much over the last few months. You walked inside and kicked off your shoes before making your way into your living room. Normally when you knew Sana would be over, she would be waiting for you on the couch watching whatever drama she was into at the time, but this time she was nowhere to be seen. You looked around in confusion before tentatively calling out to her.

“Sana…? You here?”

“Mhm!” you heard echo out from your bedroom door. “Just freshening up a bit. Wait for me out in the living room, ok?”

You shouted back your acknowledgement and plopped yourself down on your sofa. You'd had a pretty long day at work and were ready to unwind, so you figured a few more minutes of waiting wouldn't hurt anybody. You whipped out your phone and began scrolling. A few minutes turned into 10 and you started to get impatient. Just as you tossed your phone aside and were about to get up to go check on her, your bedroom door opened, but you still couldn't see Sana. What happened next froze you in place.

Slowly, Sana emerged from your bedroom. It was night time and the lighting was a bit dim, but through it you could still see her entire figure. Her hand was raised above her head, caressing one side of the door frame as she leaned on the other, stepping forward a bit before stopping and crossing her legs. The light from the living room illuminated her body in all the right ways, letting you see all that she had to offer. She was almost fully nude, only wearing a pair of black heels and a matching pair of black lingerie stockings that went up to her thighs. Your eyes trailed upwards as you continued to take in the sight. Her pussy was clean-shaven, just the way you liked it. Her midriff was toned but not muscular and her hips were wide, perfect to be grabbed on to. The breasts you struggled to look away from all those months ago during your first 1-on-1 meeting were now being proudly displayed before you. They were supple and were the ideal size for her frame. She had done her flowing brown hair in a simple manner, the curls of the ends framing her chest nicely. Her eyes told you everything else you needed to know about how this night was about to go. They were the same eyes she gave you before your first time together.

“Took you long enough.” Sana remarked with a hint of playfulness. She turned around to give you a look at her petite ass before looking over her shoulder. “Come here.”

You were caught in a trance as you took in everything that just happened. Sana smiled to herself knowing the power her and her body had over you before walking back into your bedroom. Without thinking, you slowly rose from the sofa and followed her inside. The lights were dimmed in your room as well, but it was just enough to set the mood. She was standing at the edge of your bed, gazing back at you with her eyes brimming with lust. As you walked over you discarded your top, exposing your chest to her. You weren't as muscular as a bodybuilder, but you were no slouch either. You took pride in the way you took care of yourself, and the look on Sana’s face as she took in your body told you that the work you had put in was worth it. Both of your eyes were feasting on each other as you made your way over to her, and the excitement the two of you shared was palpable. You stopped in front of her as she raised her arms, placing them on your shoulders while you held on to her waist. With devilish grins and one last look into each other's eyes, the stage was set for what would undoubtedly be yet another incredible night.

She tilted her chin up, closing her eyes as you leaned down to meet her halfway. Electricity surged through your veins as your lips met in spectacular fashion. Every kiss with Sana was like the first time all over again. Her lips were tender, with a tinge of sweetness emanating from the lip gloss she knew you loved the taste of. She softly moaned into your mouth as your hands began trailing her sides, feeling her and lightly massaging her curves. Her arms hooked themselves around your neck, pulling you in deeper as if to tell you that there was no escaping her now, not that you would have wanted to anyways. Your tongues soon joined the fray, weaving themselves together in a back and forth battle for dominance. Slowly she began to acquiesce, conceding to your victory over her mouth. She sank backwards as you gently guided her to lay on the edge of the bed, your faces never once parting.

You could feel that the tension building up down below was nearing an all-time high, so you decided that it was time to kick things up a notch. You pulled away from her lips leaving her breathless as you stood upright, quickly unbuckling your pants and kicking them off. Sana meanwhile looked up to you with the same insatiable grin you had grown accustomed to, taking her hands and slowly massaging each of her boobs. Her eyes then locked on to your cock, standing proudly just above her face as she bit her bottom lip in anticipation. If there was one thing you had learned during your times with the sexual vixen lying perpendicularly beneath you, it was that touch meant everything to her. 

She knew how to use her touch to bring about the perfect amount of tension in whatever she did. With her lidded eyes now locked on yours, she gently wrapped one of her hands around the base of your cock, guiding it down to her face before sticking her tongue out and gliding along your underside from the base to your tip. When she got there, she tilted you down a bit further and planted a tender kiss on the most sensitive part of your head. You hissed out as your face contorted in pleasure, trying your best to prevent your knees from buckling. Sana looked back up at you with a smug look, again feeling like she knew how to hit all of the right buttons. Wanting to take things a step further, she guided your tip down and took you inside her mouth. Her lips wrapped around your head and she swirled her tongue, moaning as she enjoyed the taste of your precum while also sending vibrations straight to your core.

Not only did Sana like to touch, she liked to be touched. As she got to work tilting her face to the side to take more of you in, you cradled the top of her head to support her, softly petting her as you hummed out in pleasure. Your other hand grabbed a handful of one of her boobs and massaged it. You coyly pinch one of her nipples, sending a jolt throughout her body, and getting a slight yelp of enjoyment out of her. She kicked off her heels and brought her knees up to the bed. Your hand then moved from her breast and caressed the inside of her thigh, lightly teasing her as it made its way up her leg. When you got up to her pussy, your fingers traced her lips sending shivers up her body. She closed her eyes and moaned out once again, reveling in your touch as she began sucking in earnest. You looked down to your fingers, parting her lips and seeing that she was quickly growing wet from pure arousal. Slowly, you insert one finger before withdrawing and repeating, getting a little more in each time. Her velvety walls fit snugly around your finger, just as tight as every other time you'd gotten the chance to be inside her. Your thumb massaged her in small circles outside as a second finger entered her. 

“Mmmmmm yes…” Sana moaned out as she briefly pulled her mouth away from your cock. You kept a slow, steady pace in fingering her as she began lifting her hips from the bed to meet you. She tilted her head up and arched her back, voicing her pleasure as she jerked you off. She wasn't away from you for too long as she then dove right back in, swirling her tongue along your length before taking you in once more. She delicately bobbed back and forth around your tip, breath-filled moans escaping her lips each time she pulled her head back. Her other arm wrapped itself across her chest, pushing up both of her tits. You would have been perfectly content with just all of this foreplay with one of the most beautiful and sought after women on the planet, but you both knew that this wasn't the only reason she had come by tonight.

"Isn't it about time for you to be a gentleman?" Sana asked of you, teasing your lack of oral reciprocation. You smirked, knowing exactly what the bubbly girl desired of you.

"Hmmm, well, I can't let you shave yourself for me and then not reward it. That would be bad manners." You replied, as you readied yourself to  reposition your entire frame to fit in between her legs. Sana took this time to crawl further into the bed, setting her head a little upright, leaning against the headrest of the bed. You moved next to the bed towards the end, as you got on, crawling towards her with her legs spread open, inviting you, she closed her lingerie-covered legs in your face. This took you by surprise, as you were fully expecting to have had a mouthful of her delicious pussy by now, but instead you were met by her, admittedly beautiful, legs closed in your face and smirk on hers.

"Not so fast! You haven't earned it yet." Sana berated you, devilish grin staring down at you. She wasn't mad, but she was definitely enjoying teasing you. You weren't really sure what about, this time.

"Oh is that so? And why is that?" Was your reaction to her, trying to pry what you supposedly did wrong.

"I heard from insider intel, you were shooting shots for a different girl group today! I bet you fucked them too, while I was out here waiting for you!" She yelled back, the pitch and volume of her voice rising as she pointed a finger at you accusatory, accompanied with a big smile and bigger eyes. Your face turned deadpan, as her accusation finally started to make a semblance of sense. 

"All of the members were underage..." You told her, clearly not entertaining her guess. Her mouth now fell wider agape as she started to look at you in disbelief. 

"Don't tell me-" She started to reply, but you gave her no chance to even finish that sentence and interrupted her.

"Absolutely not, that's disgusting. Besides, Sana, you know you're the only client of mine I've ever fucked." You continued, pleading your innocence, absolutely not entertaining any sorts of accusations of illegal behaviors.

"Okay fine!" Sana relented. "But I still think we should do our usual game!" Her arms now crossed back over her body, as she looked away to her left with a pouty mouth.

"Ah, so that is why you spoiled me with the start of a blowjob just now, huh? You wanted to get a head start!" You accused her back, knowing damn well nothing ever comes free when it's from her. "Fine, but you're just going to lose like every other time."

Sana's face perked up as her smile grew bigger, facing you head on once more. You both sat upright, facing each other. Sana spread her legs with her knees pointed towards the roof, as you slid yours under hers, bringing your cock closer to her pussy, but leaving some distance in between. This game the two of you played was simple. You and Sana faced each other, and you had to finger Sana whilst she jerked you off. First one to cum, loses. Loser has to give in to the winner's demands.

You both looked into each other's eyes intensely, placing your hand in front of her dripping pussy, as she placed hers on top of your stiff cock. Without any kind of start sign, it was Sana that started off the competition, spitting onto your dick, making sure it stayed wet while she started off with a high tempo. You were expecting some kind of countdown, but you wouldn't lose from this. You took a different approach from Sana, and started off with only your thumb on her pussy, rubbing in circles on and around her clit, slowly. You used the rest of your fingers to press down onto her skin above her vagina, adding some pain and pressure to her pleasure. You were still holding on easily, but you'd already figured out Sana's weak spots. Her moans were giving her away, and you were clearly winning this race. She decided to up her commitment, using her other hand as well now, gripping it tightly around the base of your cock, putting firm, constant pressure while having her other hand twist and turn smoothly around the head of your dick. 

If she was using two hands, so would you. Your other hand joined the fray, slowly inserting your index finger into her slit, pulling it out, inserting your middle finger into her slit, and following up with inserting both at the same time. Her legs started to tremble against yours, and you could tell this race was in the bag. You were enjoying the feeling of her soft, velvety hands gliding up and down your shaft, but you could enjoy so much more if you endured. You kept the pace of your inserted fingers slow, curling your fingers inside of her, touching all of her insides slowly, while having picked up the pace with your thumb, going as fast as you could, rubbing back and forth in between her lips.

"I can feel it Sana, you're going to lose!" You gloated, sure of your victory.

"Shut up!" She sneered back, not having given up yet. Her actions confirmed this, as she clearly broke the rules of the game, and pulled her lower body away, to dive right into your cock. Her lower body slid backwards, her legs straightening as she was forced to do a split with her legs, just to fit on the bed, her legs split spread against the base of the headrest. Her upper body went down, her mouth plunging around your cock as your hands were now left Sana-less. One of her hands was holding all her hair to the side, and the other was still tightening the base of your cock as she tried making her way down.

"Oh, I don't think so!" You yelled back, not accepting defeat so easily. You leaned your right arm over her back, making use of the fact her ass was still so close thanks to her forced split, and started fingering her from the back.

"If you want to cheat so bad, you can choke on my cock while you lose!" You continued, now placing your left hand on the back of Sana's head, holding her down on top of you and pushing her to your base as far as you could. "Hrrkkk?!" was one of the more understandable sounds she made, as her moans were mixed with gags. Her warm spit was dribbling down from her mouth onto your balls, as she forced her tongue out against the base of your cock in an attempt to not gag as much. Her both hands had started digging into your thighs, but not in an attempt for you to release her. She was letting you force her, there was no intention to escape, as her conviction to win must have taken over. Her nails were firmly planted in your skin, sure to leave marks. No, she wasn't pushing you away, she was holding herself down as well. Her face revealed her true thoughts however, her eyebrows worriedly coming together in between her eyes, which were rolling back into the back of her head. Please cum fast, or have your dick grow small, were the two thoughts repeatedly rushing through her head, a place already being pierced by your cock. It didn't take long for the sensation of your fingers going wild inside her and your cock bulging in her throat to finally make her submit though. You felt the warm liquids of her squirt leak onto your hand and shoot against your headrest, as her mouth tightened on your member and her legs started to shake violently, signaling your victory, as you finally let her head go and come back up for air.

"Looks like I win. Again!" You relished, as Sana's make up had started running a little from her cheating in the game, now looking directly back at your face, a pouty expression painted on her visage.

"I wouldn't keep fucking you if you couldn't win, you know." She scoffed. She was clearly upset with her loss after pulling out all the stops. She kept looking at you, with puffed cheeks and a furrowed brow.

"Alright, alright, I'm sorry." You replied, your hands up in the air in an apologetic manner. "You got close to winning, I'll admit." This made Sana's pouty face lighten up, and you can tell she gained a sense of determination to turn close to winning into a decisive victory, next time you play your game. You can't help but wonder what new cheats and tricks she'll have up her sleeve.

"I let you win! You're lucky I like it when you tell me what to do! But a deal is a deal. What would you like this time?" She said as she regained her composure, her doe eyes staring into your soul, as her split laid legs turned into her holding her knees in front her body, pulled close to her torso with one arm as her other hand was swiping hair out of her face, which was now tilted sideways. Despite the black tears rolling down her cheeks, she somehow managed to still look cute in this erotic atmosphere.

"Let's see... You seemed pretty hell bent on sucking my dick just now. I'd like to continue that!" You decided after deliberating it shortly.

"Huuuuuuuh? Then, what about me?" Sana replied, back to pouting now. She agreed to the rules of the game, but clearly still had plans to satisfy her own needs first. This didn't come as a shocker to you. Ever since you started fucking Sana, you've known her to be insatiable. No amount of fucking could ever be enough for her.

"I'll eat your pretty little pussy out first if I get to do what I want afterwards?" You replied, having that one prepared, knowing exactly how she would react. Nothing was ever free with Sana, and this relationship was as casual as it was transactional.

"See, I knew you'd pick something fun! Sure, I'm game!" She replied gleefully, laying her hand on your arm, as if to commend you. Sana took a deep breath, eyes closed, and leaned back into the bed, lying on her back as you took the hint to move backwards and create space for her. You were back on the bed where you started, Sana laying in front of you as her knees were in the air, closing the path forward.

This time however, it only took the slightest touch of your fingers against her stocking covered calves to move open. She allowed you in between her legs, as you laid your head down before her pussy. You took in her smell as you planted a soft kiss on her entrance. It was intoxicating, and you couldn't help but think you'd never thought you'd fall in love with the smell of somebody's vagina until you got close to Sana's. She let out a soft chuckle as your lips first touched, burying her hands in your hair. You were off to a good start. Your tongue slithered from left to right, up to down, hitting all the weak spots she had. If the fact that her hands were now grasping onto your hair or her moans were any indication, you were doing good. She was still sensitive from cumming just now, and you knew just how to abuse that. 

You pulled back, creating some distance from her pussy and you, only to spit on it, causing Sana to yelp from surprise. You didn't give her very much time to be confused, as you jammed your still wet index and middle finger into her slit as far her body would allow. Her back arched against the bed, supported by her head falling into the mattrass, as she moaned out a loud enough "fuck" you thought it'd be impossible for any neighbors you had to have not heard that. You went back to your tongue play, slowly licking every inch of her pussy, whilst your fingers were pounding away furiously at her inner walls. The rhythmic dissonance soon proved too much for Sana, as her thighs squeezed tightly against the sides of your head, trembling like you were in the midst of an earthquake, before letting up with the rest of her body, falling limp in the bed. Now my fun begins, you thought to yourself, feeling the same kind of happiness an experienced craftsman feels after a job well done.

Sana laid there, heaving, eyes closed, surely savoring the feeling. You didn't let up though, and felt you deserved what was about to happen next. As you were getting off the bed readying your next move, Sana opened her eyes, looking for you next to her on the bed but not finding you.

"Alright, lie down, it's my turn." She pushed out in between the breaths in a slightly sultry tone.

"Lie down?" You asked, already standing next to the bed, before reaching both your arms under the girl, and flipping her body a quarter circle on the bed. You laid her down again on her back, in a way which made sure her head was hanging off of the edge of the bed close to you. "I have a better idea."

"Oh..." She exhaled, her tone now fully sultry with a hint of hungriness in it as her eyes locked onto her target. She was ready to devour what you presented her, biting down on her lower lip in anticipation. "And what exactly did you have in mind?" She asked, playing innocent.

"Open your mouth." You commanded, and she obediently followed. Her mouth opened as wide as she could, and even took the courtesy to stick her tongue out for you. "Good girl" were the next words out of your mouth, and coincidentally, also the last discernable words you were going to make before cumming. She seemed to like being called a good girl, but you wouldn't give her a chance to confirm it audibly. You fired your cock into her mouth, clearly still frustrated from her starting a blowjob twice this evening with no intention to finish them. You managed to slide your dick about halfway into her mouth, before stopping and holding it there. You thought to yourself, let's give her a chance to prove she actually is a good girl. And sure enough, she picked what you were putting down, and started moving her head away from your cock and back halfway over it, trying her best to service you. Although the attempt was sweet, this wouldn't make good for her cheating. You leaned your body forwards, letting both your hands fall onto her exposed tits, grabbing a handful with each.

She yelped a muffled "hnngh" as you clutched her chest tightly, before forcing rhythmic gagging sounds out of her small body. Playtime was over, and you started pounding her throat, forcefully shoving your cock all the way down to its base inside of her mouth. Her eyes shot wide open, as you towered above her, matching her gagging moans with your own delighted moans. Sana loved the sound of you enjoying yourself, and couldn't resist the temptation herself any longer. Despite her entire consciousness was focused on not choking on your dick, her hands move on their own as they found their way to her pussy once again, rubbing her clit with the same rhythm as you were fucking her face.

Spit was drooling from her mouth onto your balls, and you felt the urge to cum near. You decided to pound all the way down her throat one last time, making the dent your dick made on the inside of her neck clearly visible, holding it there for a second or two before pulling out. Your cock was now hanging above Sana's face as she gazed upon it with hungry, obsessed eyes as her spit, tears and mascara were mixing on her cheeks. You release her tits, giving them one last squeeze before you start to jerk yourself off to completion.

"Stop!" Sana screamed at you furiously. "I want to finish you off!" She continued, as her right hand left her pussy, leaving her left hand there alone. She grasped your spit covered cock tightly and wasted no time in rapidly stroking your cock up and down and up and down again.

"Im gonna fucking cum." Is what you wanted to say, but your moans and enjoyment made sure to slur that speech  to something barely understandable. Sana understood however, as she presented her face, ready to accept your load onto it. You shot out string after string of cum onto her lips, her cheeks, some in her mouth, until everything was either covered in you, or mixed with her mascara, spit and tears. The moment that first drop hit her cheek sent Sana over the edge as well, causing her third orgasm of the night. She wasn't planning on opening her mouth and swallowing your cum, but she couldn't stop herself from moaning, leading to some of it making it in either way. She wasn't about to complain though, and gulped down happily. 

You almost fell to your knees after this, but somehow managed to find the strength to stay standing. You had to. Sana hadn't let you cum on her face before, so you had to do everything you could to remember this moment. Suddenly you had an idea. 

"Wait here!" You screamed before darting off out of the room. It took you less than ten seconds to return, and with you a polaroid camera. "I know you don't like pictures because they could leak. So I brought this!" Sana looked at you, her head resting on the bed, trying her best to not let any cum drop off of her.

"A polaroid camera? Hahaha! Okay, sure. But only one picture this time." She replied in a bubbly tone. You were slightly surprised by her agreement, but not about to spoil the chance. You positioned yourself whatever way you knew best, and snapped a picture of the defiled idol's cum covered face. You smiled happily at the printed out piece of film paper, as Sana saw your look in the corner of her eyes.

"Does my cum covered face make you that happy? Maybe I should let you do it a little more often... Or maybe I shouldn't if you will always forget to bring me a towel when you're done." She teased you, the cute and bubbly tone ever present in her voice.

"Oh, shit!" You exclaimed, before storing your picture in a drawer in your nightstand rapidly, dashing out and returning to the girl with a towel.

"That's more like it." She replied before letting out that cute little laugh of hers and wiping her face clean.

-----

You were now laying in your bed with your arm around Sana, herself snuggling up next to you. As per usual, she never liked to leave right away, opting instead to unwind for a little while longer. You were watching some TV while Sana scrolled through her phone. After some time, you lowered the volume and patted her back, getting her attention.

“Hey, Sana?”

She tilted her head, placing her chin on your chest and looking up at you with her doe-like eyes. 

“About what you said earlier…I meant what I said.” you said slowly.

She crooked her head to the side and furled her brow, confused as to what you were referring to.

“I really haven’t been with any of my other clients. Truth be told, I haven’t even thought about it.” 

Sana turned her body to sit up. She thought to herself for a second before letting out a deep breath. “Good. And you better not think about it in the future either. Don’t forget, you are mine.” she said in a serious tone.

This got your attention. When you think back to what the two of you had going for the last few months, you believed it to be casual at best. As such, seeing Sana getting worked up over the thought of you being with other idols struck you as odd. Your confusion must have been plastered across your face, since just as you were about to push the topic further, Sana lifted her finger and placed it on your lips, shushing you.

“Stop. I know what you’re thinking, and I didn’t mean it like that.” Sana retracted her hand and sat up fully, crossing her legs as you sat up to join her. “What I meant was, I like being able to call you whenever I’m free. I don’t want you getting around to the point where I can’t reach you whenever I want to. Also, you satisfy my needs perfectly so I’m having a ton of fun. You can call me selfish, but I just don’t want to ruin this by making it any more complicated than it is. Besides, you’re having fun too, right?”

You nod your head in agreement, but then another thought strikes you. “So what then? You’re just free to do whatever you want, meanwhile I’m not allowed to be with anyone else? Sana, that’s hardly fair.” you huff as you cross your arms.

Sana recoils a bit at this and looks down at her lap. You mentally facepalm, already regretting what you had just said and wishing you could take it back. You reach out a hand placing it on her thigh. “Wait…I didn’t mean for it to come off that way.” Sana brings her knees up, hugging them close to her chest as she looks back up at you, tears threatening to fall from her eyes. 

“...is this not enough for you?” she says, her voice almost breaking. She quickly sinks her head down to her knees, hiding her face from your view. You’re quick to move, scooting yourself beside her and wrapping an arm around her shoulder.

“Yes! Of course it is, Sana. I’m sorry, I don’t know what got into me. I really am grateful for what we have going now, I didn’t mean to make you feel like you weren’t enough. You are, Sana. You really are. If you don’t want me sleeping with other girls, I won’t.” you affirm as you rub her arm, hoping to console her.

“Do you mean that? You won’t sleep with anyone else if I say so?” you hear her squeak out.

“If it means still getting to sleep with you, I'll do it.” you respond, hugging her even tighter. You lean down and kiss the top of her head. After a few seconds more of holding her there, you notice her grip on her knees begin to loosen.

“Hehehe, wow...Just like that, huh?” You tilt your head down towards Sana in bewilderment. It wasn’t until you took a pause and really looked that you realized she wasn't crying at all; rather, she was giggling.

“Oh my god, are you fucking kidding me right now?!” You nudge her away from you as she rolls onto her side, still holding onto her knees as she finally bursts out in laughter. You scoot back away and actually facepalm this time. 

“Ahhh I wish I could have seen your face. You must really like me that much, don’t you?” she teases.

You turn to look at her with a defeated expression, getting another laugh out of her. “I can’t believe you…” you sigh before letting out a chuckle, seeing the humor in the situation she put you in yourself. Sana wipes her happy tears from her face before collecting herself and sitting upright next to you.

“Listen, of course you can sleep with other girls, it’s not like we’re exclusive or anything. I just don’t want to see you whoring around the entire k-pop industry now that you’ve gotten a taste of what it’s like. But, I’ll tell you what! You’ve been good to me these last few months. Like, really good. I think I know a way I can return the favor…”. You tilt your head once more, egging her on to continue her thought. “I really did like the work you did for my solo photo book. Is there anyone else over at JYP that you’ve always wanted to work with? I know I’m the first from my company to shoot with you, but I think the least I can do is introduce you to another idol, maybe find you some more work in the future?”

In truth, you'd hoped that your work with Sana would lead to more opportunities for your career, but you hadn't considered who you'd want to work with next if given the choice. "Oh, that would actually be very nice, Sana. Do you have any suggestions?"

Sana contemplates for a moment. "Well...I could introduce you to anyone really. How about someone else in Twice? I'm pretty sure any of my members would be happy to shoot with you?"

You pause and take a second to think, weighing out your options. Of all the idols at her company you had to admit that you would have loved to work with any of them, but there was one name that came to mind. You figured now was as good a time as any to shoot your shot.

“Well…I think I’d like to meet Mina if that’s cool with you…?”

Sana’s face lights up immediately. “Ah, of course! I’ll set up a meeting later this week. Let me message her right now to see when she’s free. Oh, this is gonna be so great!” She then giddily turns to reach for her phone and starts texting. 

You sit there dumbfounded, a huge smile on your face as you start to get excited at the thought of the impact this shoot could have on your career. Mina was famous for her stunning beauty, and you couldn't help but to already start firing off ideas in your head on how to capture her ethereal qualities. You've always admired her gorgeous visuals, and were chomping at the bit to meet her in person. Meanwhile, Sana silently chuckled to herself as she typed away. She knew full well that Mina would be the perfect person to introduce you to for "other" reasons, reasons you would soon find out.

______________________________________________________________ A/N: This is a collaborative work between 2 authors who share an immense love for Twice! Thank you all for taking the time to read our fantasy. Any and all feedback is welcome, so please feel free to leave a comment or shoot us a message sharing your thoughts! This is only the start of a long journey between Sana and Y/N, and who knows? Maybe a few other members may be making an appearance ;)

[rafecameronsslut4ever]

CASUAL — lando norris (smut, angst, nsfw)

pairing; fem!reader x lando norris summary: whatever you and lando have, it's anything but 'casual'. warnings: smut 18+, a LOT of angst, mdni, fingering, oral (f receiving), (situationship?) a/n: i lowkey want chappell roan's casual to be inserted into my brain and OMG this one is too sad

"nah, nah. the two of us... it's complicated, y'know? just a casual thing, honestly."

the words echoed in your mind on the flight from london, replaying as the seatbelt sign dinged off.

casual.

the word had always carried a negative connotation, but hearing him say it made you feel so much worse. it made you feel insignificant, as if the months that had passed meant nothing to him, while it had meant so much more to you.

you were anything but casual.

all those nights, the mornings after, the kisses, the rendezvouses. they meant something, didn't they? you thought they did, at least.

the way he'd look at you when the lights dimmed and his voice would turn soft. the way he'd kiss you as if it was what he was made to do.

he knew every inch of you. every freckle, every curve. he knew you better than he knew the tracks he raced on.

but, then again, lando norris was never known for being reliable.

he was young and wild and carefree, a bachelor to be envied by all. a party boy, a flirt, a ladies' man. he was charming and he knew it.

he was good at making people believe that they were special.

everyone loved him. the oh-so charming lando norris. the young driver who had a bright future ahead of him. he was bound to get whatever he wanted, right?

the first night he touched you, the two of you had come to an agreement—no attachment. he made it clear that he didn't have time for anything serious, but that he would love to have fun with you.

you, of course, had agreed to that.

in the beginning it was nothing. 'accidentally' crashing into each other at parties, accompanying the other into hotel rooms, and then disappearing as soon as the sun rose.

but do these 'no attachments' things ever work? it wasn't even a complete month before the two of you became more and more involved and realised you weren't just having fun.

as you exited the airplane, your heart clenched at the thought. the two of you had never actually said anything, but it was there, hanging in the air, almost suffocating you.

the first time you realised it wasn't just fun, you were in the passenger seat of his mclaren. he was on his knees, big blue eyes staring into yours as he flicked his tongue in you. you were so close, you had been for a while. he could tell. his eyes were locked onto yours, a glint of smugness in them. and then, with the tip of his finger, he brought you over the edge.

after you both came, he had crawled into the driver's seat and smiled at you. his lips glistened, his chin damp, and his hair sticking up in places.

"you look beautiful." he said, a hand coming up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

"i think i like you." his voice was barely a whisper, and if you hadn't been staring right into his eyes you might've missed what he said.

"yeah, me too." your voice was breathless.

and that was the only time either of you'd ever said anything about it.

was it casual?

then, that one time when you had flown to his family home in the uk and met his parents. they'd welcomed you with open arms and treated you like one of their own, and lando's face had glowed with joy the whole time.

"i still can't believe that lando has such a pretty girlfriend." his mom had said to you, giggling as the two of you shared a bottle of wine.

"mom!" lando had whined from the other room. "can't you just shut up for once?"

"oh, hush! i'm just saying it as it is." she shrugged.

you had blushed furiously at her words, looking down at your feet as you took another sip of the expensive italian wine.

you had thought he would deny the 'girlfriend' title, or at least laugh it off, but he didn't. instead, he grinned like an idiot and you wondered if the wine had gone to his head.

"yeah, guess i got lucky." he'd muttered, and his mom had smiled, nodding knowingly.

when the day ended, you had fallen asleep curled up next to him, his body warmth enveloping you like a blanket.

now, your eyes stung as you walked through the airport, a million thoughts running through your mind.

you'd spent the rest of the week there and it was the best time you'd had in a while. he'd taken you on a day-trip to oxford, but the two of you ended up staying the night at some cottage. he'd held you closer, kissed you harder. you slept together as many times as you could.

fuck, you weren't just casual.

and the time the you woke up in each other's arms, his face buried in your hair, hands wrapped around your waist. he had asked you what your plans for the future were.

"get an apartment in monaco right next to yours so that i can stalk you everyday. binoculars and everything." you had joked.

"really? not gonna say you're going to marry me and have a billion kids and we're gonna grow old together?"

you'd looked up at him, eyebrows raised. and then the two of you had burst out laughing.

"what the fuck, lando. i'm not having a billion kids with you."

he just smirked in response.

or the time when the two of you vacationed in italy with his friends, and at the pier he had introduced you as his 'hotshot pr girl'.

"he's paying me a million dollars to pretend to be his girlfriend because he doesn't like being called a virgin."

"hey!" he'd laughed, nudging you.

"shut up, loser."

and then you'd pushed him into the water.

"i'm never talking to you again." he'd pouted.

"oh yeah, find someone else to have your billion kids with. my uterus will be happy."

or the countless times he would call you in the middle of the night and tell you about his new merch drop, and you'd whine about how it was 2 in the morning and you couldn't give a flying fuck.

and when you had just gotten off the phone with his sister, "flo is such a sweetheart, i love her."

"my sister talks to you more than she talks to me. you know she likes you better, right?" he'd mumbled, looking offended.

"what can i say, i'm such a charmer." you'd said in the most british accent you could muster, and he'd rolled his eyes and shoved your face away.

december came, and cisca invited you to celebrate christmas with them.

"if he doesn't ask you to be his girlfriend, promise me you'll tell him it's over." your best friend has said, looking at you sternly.

you had just sighed in response, shaking your head.

"i'm serious. you don't deserve someone like that. not if he doesn't think you're worth the commitment."

"you're right. i know. i'm just... i'm just scared. i like him so much. i don't know what to do."

the morning of christmas, you'd landed in london and gone straight to his place. he was all dressed up, and you'd almost cried at how gorgeous he looked.

"merry christmas, darling." he'd murmured, and you'd melted at his words. he welcomed you with a kiss, the way he always did.

the day was spent exchanging gifts with his family, watching christmas movies and cuddling under blankets.

his family adored you.

"i'm glad you're here." he said.

"where else would i be?"

"anywhere else."

you smiled at him, and he returned it with a cheshire cat one.

that night, the two of you had been invited to dinner with his parents, and halfway through the meal you'd excused yourself to go to the bathroom.

as you stood there washing your hands, you'd heard the door swing open, and the familiar figure appeared next to you, locking the door behind him.

"lando."

"yeah?"

"what are you doing?"

"i need to wash my hands." he'd shrugged.

you raised a brow at him, looking at him pointedly.

he shrugged again, taking a step towards you.

"you look too good in this dress, can't help it."

you rolled your eyes as he stepped closer to you, fingers about to grasp your waist before you told him to back off.

"what?"

"wash your hands first. didn't you come here to wash your hands? there's no way in hell i'm letting greasy salmon fingers touch me."

and then the two of you had laughed before his lips found yours lips. it felt so natural, the way your body reacted to his touch or the way your lips melted into his.

"lando, we shouldn't." you protested, neck arching as he pressed kisses everwhere.

"shut up." he grabbed your waist before pushing you against the counter, his lips crashing back into yours.

"what happened to your hands? i told you to wash them."

"fuck the hands."

"technically-"

"shut the fuck up." he groaned, dipping a finger between your thighs. "you're dripping. fucking hell."

pulling his fingers out, his knee pushed your thighs apart, spreading your legs apart.

you gasped, shifting your hands as you balanced yourself against the counter. his eyes locked in yours as his finger dragged across your core.

"fuck, baby, you're so pretty." he whispered, eyes digging into yours.

"lando, please."

"please what?" he asked as he slipped two fingers inside you.

your eyes squeezed shut, head leaning against the mirror behind you. "oh, fuck."

"i asked a question."

you were quick to answer, fisting his shirt as his fingers moved inside you. "please fuck me, oh my god."

he smirked before dropping to his knees, spreading your thighs and pressing his tongue onto your clit. you yelped at the sudden feeling of his mouth sucking at your clit; eyes rolling back.

his hands grabbed your legs, swinging them over his shoulder. hand sprawled over your stomach, pushing you back against the counter.

when his tongue curled into you, brushing that spot he never failed to miss, you couldn't help but let a loud moan escape you.

lando hushed you; tapping your thigh. “gotta be quiet baby,” lando said through heavy breaths before pushing his face back into you.

biting into your lip, your fingers ran through his curls, admiring the sight of his head moving between your thighs.

your moans filled the small bathroom, the sound like music to his ears.

"lando," your voice was shaky, breath hitching as he picked up the pace, his hands pushing your hips down.

he hummed in response, the vibration sending waves throughout your body.

"oh, god, lando. right there, right there. oh fuck."

and then your body was trembling, and you were gripping his hair, his tongue still moving.

you were seeing stars, vision going white as your legs quivered around his face.

"oh, god." you sighed, chest rising and falling as he pulled his fingers out, smirking up at you.

"c'mon baby, give me one more."

it wasn't casual.

now, walking through the terminal, dragging your suitcase behind you, the tears threatened to spill from your eyes.

maybe he said 'casual' just to tell his friends he was still a player. or maybe, he was referring to the fact that the two of you were just friends who hooked up sometimes.

but whatever he meant, it wasn't the truth.

both of you knew it.

casual wasn't the way he held you close during thunderstorms, wasn't the way he'd make sure coffee was the perfect temperature, wasn't the way he'd look at you as if the world stopped turning.

the way he'd stare into your eyes as the lights turned off, the way he'd press a kiss onto your temple, the way he'd say your name.

it wasn't casual.

[rafedarling]

𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞’𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠

pairing: dad!drew starkey x mom!reader

summary: drew tries to play a playful prank by taking off his wedding ring, but his smart and sweet 2-year-old son, rustyn, immediately notices and innocently points out that it might make mommy sad. what starts as a simple joke turns into a heartwarming reminder of the love and connection between you, drew, and your son, and the importance of the little things that symbolize that love.

warning(s): english is not my native language. pure fluff, heartwarming family moments, playful teasing, and deep emotional connections.

au’s: like, reblog and feedback are much appreciated. taglist | tagging: @rafeyslamb @tracymbcm @enjoymyloves @akobx @rubixgsworld @xoxohoneymoongirl @mileyraes @maybankslover @noobmazter69 @littlelamy @wearemadeofstardust0 @xoxosblogsblog @saviorcomplexrry @bisexualcvnt @stuffyownswrld @anamiad00msday

The afternoon sun streamed lazily through the living room windows, casting a soft, golden glow over the space. The warmth of the sunlight and the gentle sound of waves from outside made everything feel peaceful and calm—your perfect little haven. You were curled up on the couch with your son, Rustyn, nestled comfortably in your lap, his small head resting against your chest. He was two, but sometimes you marveled at how much older he seemed, with his sharp curiosity and his endless questions.

Rustyn’s favorite book was in your hands as you read to him, your voice soft and soothing as you flipped through the colorful pages. Every few moments, Rustyn would point to a picture and ask you about it. His little hands would grab at the air in excitement as he processed each new detail.

“Mommy, why is that bunny wearing a hat?” Rustyn asked, his bright blue eyes full of curiosity.

You chuckled softly, brushing a hand through his soft curls. “Maybe he’s going on an adventure, sweetie. What do you think?”

Rustyn considered this seriously, his face scrunching up in concentration. “Yeah, maybe. I like adventures.”

“I know you do,” you said with a smile, kissing the top of his head. “You’ll have lots of them when you get bigger.”

Rustyn nodded, clearly satisfied with your answer, and snuggled closer to you. He let out a small sigh, content in the warmth of your embrace. You couldn’t help but smile, your heart swelling with love as you continued to read. These were the moments you cherished—the quiet, everyday moments that made your little family feel complete.

As you were nearing the end of the story, you noticed Drew standing in the kitchen, leaning casually against the counter. He was watching the two of you with that familiar look of affection in his eyes, the one that always made you feel so loved. But today, there was something else—a mischievous twinkle that you hadn’t quite noticed before.

Drew took a sip of water, then set the glass down with a small, playful smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. You raised an eyebrow at him, wondering what he was up to. He didn’t say anything, just casually strolled into the living room and leaned down to scoop Rustyn up from your lap.

“Come here, little man,” Drew said, his voice warm as he lifted Rustyn into his arms.

Rustyn squealed in delight, wrapping his tiny arms around Drew’s neck and giggling as Drew spun him around in a playful circle. “Dada!” Rustyn cried out, his laughter echoing through the room.

“Having fun with Mommy?” Drew asked, settling Rustyn on his hip, still grinning as he glanced at you.

“Yeah! Mommy was reading to me,” Rustyn said proudly, his voice full of excitement.

But as Rustyn snuggled against Drew, his sharp little eyes caught something unusual. He tilted his head, his gaze narrowing in confusion as he stared at Drew’s left hand. You hadn’t noticed it before, but now, following Rustyn’s gaze, you realized that Drew’s wedding ring was missing.

Rustyn furrowed his tiny brow, clearly puzzled. His voice, though small and innocent, was filled with a sense of concern. “Dada...where’s your ring?”

You blinked, surprised by how quickly Rustyn had noticed. You hadn’t even realized it yourself, but there it was—Drew’s left hand, conspicuously bare. You glanced at Drew, raising an eyebrow as you waited for him to respond.

Drew, ever the playful one, kept his cool. He smiled down at Rustyn, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly. “Oh, that? Dada just didn’t feel like wearing it today, buddy.”

Your mouth dropped open slightly as you watched Drew, a mixture of amusement and curiosity bubbling up inside you. What was he up to? He knew how much that ring meant to both of you, and though it wasn’t a serious situation, you couldn’t help but wonder how this was going to play out.

Rustyn, however, wasn’t so easily fooled. His little face scrunched up again, and he looked from Drew’s hand to your face, his innocent expression filled with concern. He tugged lightly on Drew’s shirt, trying to make sense of what he was hearing.

“Dada,” Rustyn said in his most serious tone, his voice soft but full of wisdom beyond his years, “you know you gonna make Mommy sad.”

The room fell into silence, the weight of Rustyn’s innocent words settling between the three of you. You felt your heart swell as you looked at your son, his little face so earnest and full of love for both of you. His concern for your feelings, even at such a young age, was enough to make your heart melt.

Drew’s grin faltered slightly as he looked at Rustyn, clearly taken aback by his son’s sharp observation. The teasing light in his eyes softened, and he let out a small chuckle, shaking his head in disbelief. “Oh really?” he asked, his voice filled with affection as he looked back down at Rustyn. “You think Mommy will be sad if I don’t wear my ring?”

Rustyn nodded, his tiny hand reaching out to touch Drew’s bare finger. “Yeah, ‘cause it means you love her.”

You felt a lump form in your throat at Rustyn’s sweet words, and you had to blink back the sudden tears that pricked at your eyes. How did this little boy know so much? How could someone so young be so in tune with your feelings? It was moments like these that reminded you just how special Rustyn was.

Drew’s eyes softened even further as he looked at you, and the playful smirk faded into something much more tender. He reached into his pocket, pulling out his wedding ring with a slow, deliberate motion. He slid it back onto his finger, never breaking eye contact with you.

“Well, we can’t have Mommy being sad, can we, buddy?” Drew said softly, his voice warm as he turned his attention back to Rustyn. “Is that better?”

Rustyn’s face lit up with a smile so wide it made your heart flutter. “Yeah, Dada! Now you make Mommy happy again!”

Drew chuckled, glancing at you with a loving smile. “What do you think? Is our little man right? Does the ring make you happy?”

You smiled back at him, your heart full as you nodded. “He’s always right,” you said softly, reaching out to gently squeeze Drew’s hand. “You know how much that ring means to me.”

Drew leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, his hand still entwined with yours. “I know, baby,” he whispered, his voice low and full of affection.

Rustyn, clearly pleased with the resolution of the situation, snuggled into Drew’s chest, his tiny arms wrapping around his dad’s neck. “Dada loves Mommy,” he said with absolute certainty, as if there had never been any doubt.

Drew smiled, looking down at Rustyn with nothing but love in his eyes. “You’re right, Rusty. I love Mommy very much.”

Rustyn nodded solemnly, as if he had solved a great mystery. “I knew it,” he said with a proud grin.

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, your heart swelling with love for both Drew and Rustyn. You reached out, wrapping your arms around both of them, pulling them into a warm hug. “I love you both so much,” you whispered, pressing a kiss to Rustyn’s cheek before turning to Drew and kissing him softly on the lips.

Drew smiled against your lips, his hand resting on the small of your back as he held you close. “We love you too,” he murmured, his voice full of warmth and tenderness.

As the three of you sat there, wrapped up in each other’s love, the world outside seemed to fade away. It was just the three of you—your perfect little family, full of love, laughter, and moments like these that made everything else seem small in comparison.

Rustyn, ever the observant toddler, let out a small yawn, his little body relaxing as the excitement of the day began to catch up with him. He nestled deeper into Drew’s arms, his eyes fluttering closed as he snuggled into the warmth of his dad’s chest.

As you watched Drew tuck your son into bed, your heart swelled with love once more. It was moments like these—simple, sweet moments—that made you realize just how lucky you were to have this little family.

As Drew gently closed Rustyn’s bedroom door, he turned to you with a soft smile, his hand reaching for yours. “You know I was just teasing with the ring, right?” he asked quietly, pulling you into his arms as he led you back toward the living room. His voice was low and full of sincerity now, the earlier playfulness gone, replaced by a quiet tenderness.

You smiled up at him, resting your hand against his chest as you felt the steady rhythm of his heartbeat under your palm. “I know,” you replied softly, your eyes meeting his. “But Rustyn was right. It does mean a lot to me, even if it’s just a ring.”

Drew’s expression softened even further, and he lifted your hand to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to the back of it. “I know, baby. I’ll never take it off again, I promise,” he said, his tone serious but still filled with that warmth you loved so much. “At least not without a really good reason.”

You laughed softly, leaning into him as his arms wrapped around you, pulling you close. “You better not,” you teased, your voice playful but laced with affection.

Drew smiled down at you, his forehead resting against yours as he held you in the quiet comfort of the moment. “I know I joke around sometimes,” he began, his voice barely above a whisper. “But I don’t ever want you to doubt how much I love you. This ring—it’s a promise, not just for show.”

Your heart swelled at his words, and you nodded, your hand still resting against his chest as you leaned into him. “I never doubt it,” you whispered back. “Not for a second.”

The two of you stood there for a few more moments, wrapped up in each other’s warmth. The house was quiet now, save for the soft sound of Rustyn’s rhythmic breathing coming from his bedroom, and the golden light of the setting sun cast a warm glow through the windows, making everything feel peaceful and serene.

Drew’s arms tightened around you slightly, and he let out a contented sigh, his lips brushing against your temple as he held you. “Rustyn’s growing up so fast,” he murmured, his voice filled with a mixture of pride and awe. “I still can’t believe how smart he is—how much he picks up on.”

You smiled softly, pulling back just enough to look up at him. “I know,” you agreed, your voice filled with love for your little boy. “He’s always surprising me with how much he understands. I wasn’t expecting him to notice your ring like that.”

Drew chuckled, shaking his head slightly. “Neither was I. I thought I’d get away with the prank at least until bedtime.” His smile softened, and he glanced down at his hand, where the ring now sat securely. “But you know what? I’m glad he noticed.”

You tilted your head, curious. “Why’s that?”

Drew’s eyes met yours again, his gaze full of love and affection. “Because it reminded me how much this little ring means. Not just to you, but to him too. He understands that it’s important—he gets that it’s a symbol of how much we love each other. And that… well, that makes me even prouder to wear it.”

Your heart melted at his words, and you reached up to cup his face, your thumb gently brushing along his jawline. “You’re a good man, Drew Starkey,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion.

Drew smiled, his eyes soft and full of love. “And you’re the love of my life,” he replied, his voice just as tender.

He leaned down then, capturing your lips in a slow, sweet kiss that made your heart flutter in your chest. His hands rested gently on your waist as he pulled you even closer, and you could feel the steady beat of his heart against yours, a perfect rhythm that matched the quiet contentment of the moment.

When you finally pulled away, Drew rested his forehead against yours once more, his breath warm against your skin. “Thank you,” he whispered, his voice so quiet it was almost lost in the stillness of the room.

“For what?” you asked softly, your fingers gently threading through his hair.

“For this. For our life. For Rustyn. For everything.” He pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, his expression filled with so much love that it made your heart ache. “I wouldn’t trade a single moment for anything.”

You smiled, feeling the same rush of love and gratitude that you felt every time you looked at him. “Neither would I,” you whispered back.

The two of you stood there everything felt perfect—your little family, your life together, the quiet joy that filled your days. It wasn’t always grand gestures or big moments that made life special. Sometimes, it was the small, simple things—like the way Drew looked at you when he wore his ring, or the way Rustyn’s innocent questions could change the course of a day—that reminded you just how lucky you were.

[softspiderling]

like, ever | j.v

summary:

“Hey, I’m worried about you.”

You glanced up from your laptop screen to see Rhaena standing in your doorway, her arms crossed.

“Why?”

She gave you a look, before her eyes roamed your room: your textbooks stacked half-hazardly on your desk, two empty ice cream tubs, another half melted one on your nightstand, an empty tissue box on the floor and you on your bed, wrapped in your blanket like a burrito.

OR; You and Jace break up because of a stupid reason, but you’re both too proud to apologize.

pairing: jacaerys velaryon x reader

warnings: kinda toxic behavior from both of them, but like the usual issues in communication that’s so common in people our age idk what to tell you

word count: 4,1k

author’s note: modern au!jace is the president of the frat Alpha Draconis (it's co-ed, Rhaenyra was president during her time at uni), Jace/Aegon/Baela and their respective siblings are all cousins, but this is NOT in the same universe as can I go (where you go). thank you to my wonder sister wife beta @eldrith as usual <3

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“We broke up.”

“No you didn’t.”

“Yes, we did.”

Baela gave you a look, narrowing her eyes at you as she pushed her Econ 1 assignment away. You dropped down on the couch next to her, leaning your head back.

“Why?”

“I don’t wanna talk about it,” you huffed and Baela whacked you in the arm.

“You just came home and dropped a bomb like that, you can’t just not talk about it.”

“Not talk about what?”

You internally groaned when Helaena’s voice floated from the hallway, the front door shutting behind her. An intervention was inevitable at this point. At least Rhaena wasn’t home yet, you knew she was volunteering until six.

“She and Jace broke up,” Baela told her and Helaena paused in the doorway to the living room, a frown on her face as she undid her braid.

“You didn’t.”

“That’s what I said!”

“You know, normal friends would offer ice cream if their friend was going through a break up.”

“I’d offer you ice cream if you were sad,” Helaena pointed out. She sat down next to you, patting your shoulder. “You don’t look sad.”

“Well, I am sad,” you sniffed, but Baela fixed her brown eyes at you until you threw your hands up in frustration. “Fine! I’m mostly mad, okay? Pissed off, actually!”

Baela folded her legs under herself. “Tell us what happened.”

“I don’t know, she just rubs me the wrong way. It’s like she knows you have a girlfriend and she chooses to ignore that.”

You and Jace were laying in his bed, your head on his chest. He had been telling you about the new pledges of the term, and you weren’t exactly fond of one of them - Laura, a nursing major. You were aware of her being especially touchy with Jace, twirling her hair while she was talking to him and always searching him out at every event. Which was fair, he was the president of the frat after all and at first you had told yourself that you were just projecting but the you noticed that she was laughing at all of Jace’s jokes. She was definitely into him. He was not that funny.

“I don’t know, it’s just the way she is, I think,” he said, and you frowned at him.

“Jace, come on, she’s totally into you.”

“Well, good thing I’m into you,” Jace pointed out, turning his head to nose along your neck but you pushed him away, starting to get annoyed that he wasn’t taking this seriously.

“I mean it, Jace.”

“So do I,” he answered, irritated. “Why does this bother you so much?”

“Because I don’t like another girl’s hands being all over you?”

You sat up, leaning away from him with a frown and he only sighed, laying his head back on the pillow, shutting his eyes. He was starting to piss you off.

“She’s not into me! Everyone tries to butter me up because they want to join the frat. And even if she was, why does it matter?”

“It matters because it bothers me and you clearly don’t care!”

“Of course I care,” Jace sighed. He opened his eyes, reaching out for you, and you had to admit your resolve was starting to crumble. “You’re overreacting.”

And just like that, the wall was back up.

“Wow, thanks.”

Your voice was biting as you spoke, tugging your hand out of his grasp and standing up, grabbing your hoodie. Jace was quick to follow you, brows furrowed. Great, now both of you were mad.

“You’re making a big deal out of nothing!” Jace snapped and you only glared at him.

“Thanks for invalidating my feelings, Jacaerys,” you said sarcastically. “If I’m making a deal out of nothing, maybe we’re both nothing.”

Jace’s face fell and he stopped in his tracks, letting out a huff. “You don’t mean that.”

Maybe you didn’t. But you weren’t about to backtrack now. You were a woman of your words.

“Yes, I do.”

You pulled the door open and rushed out of his room, slamming the door shut behind you. Distantly, you could hear Jace call after you and you secretly hoped he would chase after you, but by the time you made it downstairs to the front door, he was still nowhere to be seen.

“That’s…”

Baela and Helaena exchanged a look and you frowned at them. While you hadn’t expected for them to immediately spring into assuring you that they were on your side - you were dating their cousin after all - you also didn’t quite imagined them being so… Shocked.

“What?” you asked, suddenly growing insecure. “I had a point.”

“Well, yeah,” Baela started, “But so did he.”

“Why did you immediately jump into breaking up?” Helaena asked with a soft voice, the voice you knew she used when she didn’t want to hurt your feelings. You lifted your shoulders, then dropped them again, unable to answer her question.

“Did you want to break up?”

“No!”

You tucked your chin against your chest, a pit forming in your stomach. Did you maybe overreact?

“I was just mad,” you said, frowning, picking at the hem of your shirt.

“.. And you wanted to hurt him?” Baela said, finishing your sentence. Your head shot up, a denial on your lips, but your mouth closed when her words sunk in.

“… Maybe.”

“You two really are hotheaded and stubborn,” Helaena pointed out, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. You only glowered, the anger from earlier dissipating and instead was replaced by misery and a little bit of guilt? Luckily, Helaena and Baela left you to your wallowing after they realized you needed some space and you fled to your bedroom, trying to bury yourself in your assignments.

There was only one slight problem. You couldn’t find school bag anywhere.

“Where did I leave it?” you muttered to yourself, checking under your desk for your bag, even opening the drawer for good measure. You were crawling on the floor looking under your bed when it finally dawned on you.

“Fuck.”

You had gone over to the frat’s house right after class, with your school bag. And after the fight, you must have forgotten to grab it.

“Ugh,” you groaned, dropping your forehead on the floor You’d rather crawl under your bed and sleep with the dust bunnies that have been collecting under there than go back to the frat house right now. But you had no choice. The assignment was was due the day after tomorrow and Professor Cole already was in a bad mood because his date went badly.

“Fuck me,” you muttered to yourself, turning to lay on your bad and cursed the Gods for making you miserable as you stared at the ceiling, collecting your wits.

“Oh.”

Luke Velaryon, Jace’s younger AND biological brother, stood in the doorway, apprehensive. He had always been the more sensitive one between the two brothers, but he was also unwaveringly loyal. You had no doubt that Jace had already told him everything about your fight.

“Hey Luke,” you said, giving him a wry smile.

“Hey,” he replied hesitantly. “Jace is not here.”

“I know.”

Luke pressed his lips together, his eyes darting around as if he was expecting his older brother to come out of the bushes any second. “Are you okay?”

You let out a small laugh, shaking your head. What a sweet boy.

“Yeah, alright enough I guess,” you replied, sighing. “Listen, I forgot my bag in Jace’s room and I really need it to do an assignment, could you let me in?”

“I don’t know….” Luke answered slowly. “Jace should be back soon though. Maybe you can just wait until he gets back? And then you guys could talk?”

Bless him.

You bit on your lip, running your hand through your hair, exasperated. “Listen Luke, I really appreciate you trying to look out for Jace, but I really can’t see him right now.”

Luke exhaled, shifting on his feet like he was undecided. The longer it took for him to decide, the higher chances were you’d run into Jace on your way out.

“Please, Luke, I just need to grab my bag really quickly. He won’t even notice I was there.”

With a loud sigh, Luke finally nodded, opening the door wider and taking a step back.

“He’s gonna be back soon, you need to hurry up.”

“Thanks Luke!”

You hushed past him into the house, walking the familiar way up the stairs to Jace’s bedroom, shutting the door behind you. With a small sigh, you looked around, trying to discern your stuff from his. It was harder than you had first anticipated, your belongings strewn all over the room. Picking your favorite scrunchie off of his nightstand next to a picture of the two of you during New Year’s Eve, you put your hair up as you narrowed your eyes, feeling relief settle in your chest when you saw your backpack lean against the desk.

“Thank God”, you muttered, grabbing it quickly. Just as you headed to the door, hand on the door knob, you could hear voices down the hallway through the closed door. You cursed, recognizing it as Jace and Cregan.

Fuck.

Immediately, you let go of the door knob, taking a few steps back, trying to come up with a way you wouldn’t be caught standing in the middle of Jace’s bedroom. Did you have enough time to make the climb out of the window and scale down the roof?

“- it’ll blow over. I’ll give her some time to calm down and-”

Before you could make a decision, the door swung open, and Jace entered. He was looking back at Cregan, who raised his brows when he saw you in the middle of the room.

“Wha-?” Jace turned his head, his mouth dropping open. “… Hey.”

“Hey.”

Cregan glanced between the two of you, narrowing his eyes. Meanwhile, Jace was rubbing the back of his neck.

“Did you forget something?”

“Yeah,” you answered - LAME! - lifting your backpack.

Jace nodded slowly. “Was there anything you wanted to say?”

You frowned at him, confused.

“Like what?”

“I don’t know,” Jace said, shrugging with his shoulders. “I thought you were here to apologize.”

Cregan groaned, leaning his forehead against the door frame as you felt all the anger from before welling up again.

“Me apologize?” You repeated, your voice shrill. “What about you? I bet Laura’s thrilled to hear we broke up.”

“You just ended things for no reason! Laura’s not even into me!” Jace snapped and Cregan pushed himself off of the door frame.

“Maybe we all should just calm down.”

“Shut up, Cregan!” You and Jace yelled at the same time, your anger very briefly directed at Jace’s best friend.

Cregan flinched, raising his hands defensively. “Jesus, sorry. I’ll never try to help again,” he muttered. “Let me give you two a minute.”

He stepped out of the room but you held your hands up, stopping him with a scoff.

“No, I’m done here,” you huffed, shaking your head in disbelief. With one last angry look at Jace, you pushed between them, running out of the house, smoke coming out of your ears.

You spent the rest of the week distracting yourself. Burying yourself in assignments and reading, eating ice cream - there was a deal at Whole Foods, five for three, your freezer was full - and you only cried once.

“Hey, I’m worried about you.”

You glanced up from your laptop screen to see Rhaena standing in your doorway, her arms crossed.

“Why?”

She gave you a look, before her eyes roamed your room: your textbooks stacked half-hazardly on your desk, two empty ice cream tubs, another half melted one on your nightstand, an empty tissue box on the floor and you on your bed, wrapped in your blanket like a burrito. You sighed, letting the blankets fall from your shoulders.

“I’m fine, Rhae.”

“Hey, did you convince her to come?” Baela skidded to a halt next to Rhaena, looking from her sister to you. Rhaena only sighed while you narrowed your eyes at Baela’s get up. She was wearing black leather pants and a brown corset; she looked like she was going out.

“Come where?”

“Alpha Draconis’ summer term opening party.”

Right that. The party you had helped Jace plan. Before you broke up.

“I don’t know guys,” you sighed, leaning back against your headboard. “I don’t think it’s a good idea for me to go.”

“You don’t have to go,” Rhaena assured you but Baela shushed her, shaking her head.

“No, you absolutely have to go,” she insisted. “We’ve let you wallow in your misery long enough. It’s time to put your big girl pants on and face Jace. You broke up with him for a shitty reason and yes, he was being a jerk, but you were being a bitch. Now suck it up and get your man back.”

You gaped at her, and Rhaena whacked Baela in the arm, but she only shrugged, ever the unapologetic brutally honest one.

“What? You know I’m right,” Baela only said, frowning at her twin before she turned to you. “So?”

With a groan, you closed your eyes. You knew Baela was right, in a way, and it was no use sitting around when your friends were going out. You had to see him eventually.

“Fine,” you gave in, pushing the blanket back as Baela cheered, immediately disappearing. Rhaena only shook her head, stepping into your bedroom, helping you clean up a little.

“I’m driving,” she told you. “Just tell me if you want to leave, okay?”

You nodded, giving Rhaena a grin when something soft just hit you in the face with no warning, courtesy of Baela having returned to your bedroom.

“Put that on.”

The projectile fell to floor, and as you picked it up, you recognized it as a dark red dress, tags still on.

“Hel’s headed to the party from work, so we’ll meet her there in an hour, go take a shower and I’ll do your hair,” Baela said, reaching for your hand to pull you up. “Come on, up up up!”

Begrudgingly, you let Baela usher you into the shower, shutting the door behind you very decidedly. You stared at yourself in the mirror, eyes rimmed red and hair a mess and you allowed yourself a minute of respite before you turned the shower on. If you had to go to that stupid party, you’d make sure to look the absolute best.

“Am I crazy or is it even more crowded than last term?”

You winced as you followed Baela and Rhaena through an especially crowded spot in the house, glancing around.

“No, it’s definitely more people,” Baela agreed, squeezing your hand to make sure not to lose you in the mass. “Has Helaena said where she is?”

“She said she was in backyards,” Rhaena replied and Baela steered you in the direction of the backyard. Meanwhile you tried not to let your eyes roam too much; you didn’t want to seem like you were looking for Jace, even though that was exactly what you were doing. Just as you reached the patio doors, Helaena appeared, stopping you in the doorway.

“Hey guys,” she said, breathless, her eyes flitting over to you as you greeted her. “Should we go get drinks?”

“I’m not dragging my ass back through that crowd,” you moaned, shaking your head. “Let’s just sit down by the pool for a second before we go back in.”

You nudged Helaena out of the way gently, but the blonde grabbed your arm, trying to pull you back.

“But I’m really thirsty.”

“Hel, come on,” you laughed. “You’ll survive ten more minutes without-”

The rest of your words died on your tongue when you caught sight of Jace sitting by the pool, surrounded by his frat brothers and of course, Laura. Now you knew why Helaena was so adamant to get you away from the backyard. It was too loud to hear what Jace was saying, but he must be telling an extremely funny story with the way Laura was laughing, touching his shoulder. They weren’t doing anything scandalous, but it still hurt you to see him still talking to her after you voiced your concerns. You tried not to let it get to you. It wasn’t your business anymore anyways, but you were still a little sick to the stomach.

With a scoff, you turned away, embarrassment burning your cheeks as your friends looked at you with pitiful eyes.

“Sorry,” Rhaena said and you only shrugged with your shoulders.

“Whatever,” you muttered, clearing your throat. “I told you, she was into him. Now he’s free to do as he pleases.”

Baela winced. “We can leave, if you want.”

“No, I’m not leaving because of that clown.”

The girls let out a laugh and Helaena wrapped her arm around you. You gave her a wry smile, leaning into her.

“Let’s go get you that drink.”

As Helaena dragged you away, you couldn’t help but glance back to Jace and for a split second, your eyes met. You quickly turned away, feeling a lump form in your throat. You couldn’t wait to get drinks. After getting to the kitchen, the four of you did two rounds of shots, knowing where the boys kept their expensive booze; Rhaena then mixed you some drinks before you settled on the couch in the living room. Taking a careful sip of your cup, you immediately pulled a face, looking at Rhaena.

“What the hell is in this?”

“I think Grey Goose and Coke.”

“You think?” you asked, wincing when you took another sip. “This is awful Rhae.”

“What is awful?”

Aegon, Helaena’s brother, one cousin of many in the Targaryen family, suddenly plopped down on the couch next to you.

“Oh great, Aegon is here,” Baela deadpanned and Aegon only mocked Baela as he reached for your drink.

“Sure, just go ahead and take my drink.”

Aegon took a big gulp of your drink, humming. “It’s not bad,” he said, offering the cup back to you but you politely declined. You didn’t know where Aegon’s mouth had been in the last 24 hours, there was no way you’d drink out of the same cup he had.

“So, what’s this I hear about you and our cousin breaking up?” Aegon asked, throwing his arm around the back of the couch and you scooted forward, trying to escape his touch.

“You heard right,” you said, throwing him a dirty look and Rhaena rolled her eyes.

“You’re a dick, Aeg.”

“What?” Aegon exclaimed. “’t was just a question, no harm done, right?”

You let out a deep sigh, pushing away from the couch.

“I need some air,” you told the girls and Rhaena furrowed her brows, worried.

“Do you want me to come with you?”

“We can make Aegon leave,” Baela offered and Aegon made a noise, frowning at his cousin but you shook your head,

“Nah, I’m good. Just, text me if you guys go somewhere, okay?”

“Are you sure, babe?” Helaena asked and you nodded, patting her shoulder gently.

“Yeah, ‘m fine. I promise.”

With a small wave, you disappeared into the crowd, hearing the cousins starting to argue, but it was background noise to you. Instead of heading to the front door, you inconspicuously headed upstairs, past a kissing couple, and to the bathroom on the second floor. The door was shut, but unlocked and unoccupied as you opened the door. You let it fall shut in its hinges after you, walking over to the window, like you had done so many times before, but never alone. Clicking the window open, you carefully climbed out to the roof, sliding the window closed behind you again. You traipsed over the roof, before settling down on the small nook that sat right above Benjicot’s bedroom, stretching out your legs.

Jace had shown you this place when you first started dating, and sometimes when the parties got too much, the two of you snuck out here to be alone. It was probably risky to go here; but it was the only place you felt like you could retreat without having to go home.

The noise of the party downstairs could still be heard, especially the conversations in the backyard, but to you, it seemed quieter as you closed your eyes. It had cooled down significantly since you had come to the party, but you enjoyed the bite of the cold on your bare arms. A deep breath escaped your lips, your chest heavy.

Looking back on it, you knew what you had said was wrong. It was words hurled in the heat of the moment, chosen to provoke a reaction out of Jace and if you could take them back, you would. But now it was too late, it had seemed like Laura had already sunken her talons into Jace as soon as he was available - not that she had cared much about whether he had a girlfriend or not - and he seemed to be lapping it up.

“Stupid,” you muttered to yourself, wiping the tear that escaped your eye from your cheek with the back of your hand. You froze, when you heard the bathroom window slide open; not daring to look back. His steps were careful as he walked towards you, as if not to spook you, but before he came into view, a soft jacket was draped over your shoulders, engulfing you in his scent. You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding, tugging the jacket tighter around your body when Jace sat down next to you.

The silence between you stretched on, before Jace cleared his throat.

“You were right.”

You let out a small scoff at his words, glancing over to him.

“You’re shitting me, right?” you asked in disbelief. “She was all over you like that and you still thought she wasn’t into you?”

Jace winced, ducking his head.

“That’s fair. Maybe I was a little oblivious. It’s just…” he paused, sighing. “I didn’t see it, because I don’t really see other girls. Ever since we met, it’s just been you. I didn’t even realize that she was flirting with me until she straight up asked me if we could go upstairs.”

Jealousy flared up in your chest at his words, and you frowned, quickly giving him a once over.

“Well, did you?” you asked, your voice tight. Jace gave you a look, his hands dropping down on his lap.

“I’m sitting here with you, aren’t I?”

Relief flooded your veins and you ducked your head to hide your face. Jace glanced over at you, his face vulnerable and you bit your lip.

“I’m sorry too,” you then said. “I didn’t mean what I said. It was petty and stupid, and I’m sorry.”

“Well looks like we both got to work on some things,” Jace said, tentatively reaching out to take your hand; out of reflex you immediately laced your hand with his. He quirked a smile at you, scooting closer to you and you glanced up at him, almost shyly before you leaned in, as he met you halfway, your lips touching. Jace wrapped his hand around the back of your neck as you kissed, and if you hadn’t felt warm before, you definitely did now.

“What’s happening?”

“They’re kissing!”

“No way! Move over!”

“You move over!”

A crash sounded and you pulled away from Jace, just to see Luke and his cousins spying on you from the bathroom.

“Nothing to see here, carry on!” Luke yelled, quickly sliding the window back down, but their bickering could be heard through the closed window.

Jace snorted out a laugh, leaning his forehead against yours and you only grinned lazily at him.

“Come on, let’s go face the circus before they break the window and we have to scale down the roof,” Jace said, offering you his hand as he got up. You let him help you up, as the two of you walked back to the bathroom window.

“You know I thought about scaling down the roof when you caught me in your bedroom?”

“You’re joking.”

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author’s note: tell me what you think <3 also will add the taglist tomorrow bc i’m so tired but wanted to post🫶🏼

[pentechnics]

Can't Get Enough

pairing: Din Djarin x f!reader rating: E | explicit | 18+ only word count: ~1,200 tags: nsfw, hate sex, angry sex, penetrative sex, throat/breath play, rough sex, multiple orgasms, angst, reader and din hate each other yet can't get enough, din makes you sad, no physical descriptions of reader, no y/n

notes: This isn't my usual style, but I just kinda had to get some stuff out. Not really edited or fully flushed out, for that matter. But hopefully posting something new will help me get further in my other work! I have something due for the d20 writing challenge and I am so sorry that one hasn't happened dfghjsfkl

taglist under the cut❤️

He slammed you against the wall with a loud thunk.

Your throat was sore from exertion, your pulse quickening with each groan he released.

His hand found your neck again and held tight, forcing you to look into that visor and see your own lust-blown gaze reflected back at you.

Fuck, he pissed you off. He got to see you like this, but you didn’t. Every time you two wound up like this, it felt like another charge added to an invisible tab. Like he owed you something, because you always gave him everything.

The thought was brief, soon vanquished by another angry thrust, pain and pleasure melding together and turning your brain to mush.

You peered in deeper, willing his eyes to show themselves. You channeled every ounce of mental energy you had left into him – how much he hurt you, how angry he made you. How angry you were at yourself to have given into this again.

And why? Nothing ever changed. He’d come over, both of you would be pissed as all hell, take it out on each other, and then he’d leave. Neither of you walked away feeling any better.

… You never stopped to wonder why he kept coming back. It took two to keep this up, after all. You sucked on his thumb when he stuck it in your mouth, wrapping your legs around him to bring him deeper into you.

You hated this. You hated that it always came down to this for you to feel something. Ever since the two of you broke up you’ve been searching for something, but hell if you knew what it was.

You hated that he was still your answer. You surely didn’t love him anymore, but you hated that you still needed him.

Especially because he doesn’t need you.

He rammed into you, deeper and deeper, sending you into convulsions. You screamed into the humid air, grasping at his shoulders for dear life.

His own cries followed, a loud ‘fuck’ echoing into the darkness. He pried you off the wall and threw you down on the bed, putting the full force of his weight into each delicious stroke.

You couldn’t help the whines that spilled out of you. He had a way of dragging out every single sensation until you were drowning in it all. Drowning in him.

It was infuriating.

You pulled yourself up to his shoulder, kissing and biting at his salty skin. A gorgeous, vindicating sense of pride soared through you when he let out a whimper. 

You liked to think you were the only one who could make him do that.

It made him pound harder into you. Your bite matched, his skin muffling your screams.

“Fuck, I’m gonna come,” you panted.

“Yeah?”

You nodded.

“Good.”

He pulled almost all the way out and slammed back in. Swears piled out of you. Your heart was pounding, your blood on fire. He had the nerve to fucking chuckle.

“You like that, don’t you?”

 “Bastard.”

He did it again. You wailed.

“Shit,” he whispered.

Any wittiness he had was gone. His pace became manic, one goal in mind. Your eyes rolled back as he continued to ram his cock against your g-spot.

“Close your fucking eyes,” he growled, pressing a hand over them.

The sensations grew stronger without the distraction of sight. Especially after hearing the familiar hiss of his helmet and feeling the subsequent mouth on your neck.

Your moan echoed around you both. Your hand came up to press against his head.

“Din-“

Your orgasm erupted without warning. He used his hold on your head to press you into the mattress, fucking you through it without relent.

“Yes, keep coming, baby.”

Wave after wave of pleasure had your legs flailing and your back arching. Stars appeared before you. The onset of tears built up behind your eyes.

“I’m not fucking done,” he mumbled.

His free hand began to swirl your clit. You thought you couldn’t scream any louder, yet he proved you wrong.

Your muscles tensed up all over again, that sweet coil threatening to break with each tiny movement.

“You better fucking come again,” he said through gritted teeth, like he was holding himself back.

The combination of thrusting and tight circles on your clit had you coming undone again with ease. Your second release was stronger, your body’s convulsions all the more erratic.

But he didn’t stop.

His hand left your eyes to grip your hips, and you had to fight with yourself to keep from looking at him.

“One. More.”

He pulled you to the edge of the bed and dragged you onto his cock over and over. The new angle was steeper, hitting something deeper inside that you weren’t aware existed.

“Oh god,” you sighed. “Right there.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you whined.

He let out a groan and picked up the speed. You threw your arm over your eyes, afraid you wouldn’t be able to control yourself for much longer.

His breath was labored, accentuated with deep heaving. He wasn’t going to last much longer, which meant—

“Runnin’ out of time, baby, you better give me one more.”

You squealed with each pulse of contact with your g-spot, but his words made a bead of annoyance interrupt your trance.

No, you thought. You’re not gonna get what you want this time.

You squeezed your muscles, clenching his cock tighter between your walls.

“FUCK,” he shouted. “Feels so good-”

His grunts were too much to bear, each one scratching that sweet spot in your brain that went straight to your pussy, but you had to hold back. He had to break first. You gripped the sheets with your free hand and clenched your jaw, desperate to keep the impending third orgasm down.

His grip on you tightened.

“Oh, fuck you,” he spat.

“You already are, dumbass.”

You didn't recognize the graininess of your own voice. But what came after told you it worked.

He leaned over you and continued the rapid pace, both of you moaning into the air just before coming in a heap of screams and roars.

He buried his head beside yours as he rode out his pleasure, taking yours with it.

He eventually slowed to a stop, standing back up and taking care to pull out the condom with his spend without spilling, just as he did every time.

You heard the plop of it getting thrown in the trash before he leaned over you once more, caging in your frame with his arms.

“Look at me.”

“I haven’t heard the helmet-”

“Look. At me.”

Even through his labored breathing, his voice was unwavering. He put his hands on either side of your face, forcing your gaze to meet his when you did peek your eyes open.

The tiny amount of air that had replenished in your lungs was gone.

He was a vision: skin glowing with sweat, eyebrows scrunched with a crease in the middle, sharp cheekbones and a hooked nose…

… But those fucking brown eyes. They were just downright unfair.

You put your hands over his wrists to keep his hold in place. A glimmer of hope dared to emerge in your head – is he letting you see him because he actually did care? Was there still something in him that loved you?

But then he let out a deep chuckle. Your heart broke all over again.

Why’d I even bother?

“You’ll never get enough, will you?”

You gulped. It always came down to this. But this time, you’d seen the truth.

Not only was this his last playing card, but you had a winning hand.

A confident grin bloomed across your face, the satisfaction already tasting so sweet now that you got to say this directly to his actual face. You’d get to see that smug expression die.

You’d get to finally be the one to let him down.

“Neither can you.”

****

taglist: @booksarekindaneat @bluemacaron @c-a-v-a-l-r-y @whataenginerd @girlofchaos @christina-loves @literallydontlook @the-little-ewok @salome-c @dear-fifi @mswarriorbabe80 @littlemisspascal @keldabe-kriff @kurlyfrasier @booksaremyyoga @elegantduckturtle @artsymaddie

[rosenclaws]

obsessed with your ex || Worst!Logan Howlett smut

summary: In his world you were his wife and he loved you and then you died. In this world you're his girlfriend and he loves you. At least you think he does. Still you can't help the voice in the back of your head telling you that you're nothing but a sad replacement.

warnings: SMUT, MINORS DNI!! 18+ ONLY. insecure + jealous!reader, a very very toxic mindset, the reader's mind is very mean to her, reader is a mutant that can make objects disappear, angst, happy ending, rough sex, riding, french kissing, oral (f!receiving), a slight breakdown, soft sex, missionary, Logan is kinda a softie, cockwarming, fingering.

wc: 2.5k

a/n: Okay so it's here!! I need to make this clear that the readers mindset is NOT healthy and that relationships need good communication. That being said here's my fic idea that I've been thinking about for a bit. I love Olivia Rodrigo sm (I even saw her in concert!!) and this song was just begging to be written into a fic. Anyways I really hope you like it and that it's not too insane lmao. Also i made the graphic but i kinda hate it but i dont wanna change it so here we are I know it's ugly but its FINE

How long have you been here? Staring. Observing every little thing about you. Your nose, your eyes, your lips, your hair, your chin. The way your arms fall by your sides. Every. Little. Detail.

Did she have the same colored eyes? Did she talk like you? Was she smart? Was she powerful? Did he look at her the same way? Did he fuck her like he fucks you?

You clench your fists as you stare angrily at the mirror. He loves you. He says he loves you and yet it feels like you can never compare to her. She was the love of his life. She was an X-Men. She died. She was you. You're his dead fucking wife in his universe while you were nothing to the Logan in this one. 

He looked at you like a kicked puppy that first day you met. A lost little pet that had been searching for its owner. Dragged through hell and back just to get to you. It was easy to fall for him. Handsome, a little rough around the edges. You hadn’t even been dating for that long but it didn’t matter right? He worshiped you. He loved you. He promised he loved you.

But sometimes in the back of your head you wonder if when he's kissing you, does he imagine her? Does he close his eyes while he's pounding into you and imagine it's her? How could you ever compete? She was perfect, she was kind, she was everything to him. Spiraling deeper and deeper into a whirlpool of doubt and envy. There's a heavy pounding on the door but you choose to ignore it. Too wrapped up in your twisted mind to care. 

"Sweetheart, let me in." Logan's gruff voice was slightly muffled by the door. 

You clench your jaw as you finally tear your eyes away from the mirror. You slam open the door taking Logan by surprise. His eyes scan yours for injury, a worried look in his face as he steps into the bathroom. 

"I got worried, you were in here a long time." His arms wrap around your waist. 

He's looking at you with pity. At least that's what your brain tells you. Was he worried that you were hurt because he loves you or because he was thinking of her death again? You know he still dreams of her. He can hide it when he's awake but the nightmares don't lie. It hurts so bad. Love me. Love me. You're jealous you know. She's dead, she's gone. So why can't he love you. You push him off and storm out the bathroom. Nothing makes sense anymore in your head. 

"What the fuck?" Logan follows you and you feel yourself tensing up. 

It's a miracle your powers haven't started to go haywire yet. So many different emotions swirl around in your head until it mixes together to form one single feeling.

Need.

You grab Logan's shirt and pull him into you. Smashing your lips onto his with a hunger that you've never felt before. Logan hisses as you bite his bottom lip harshly but you don't give him time to say anything as you slip your tongue into his mouth. He groans as he starts to take some control back. Hands slipping up your shirt and ripping to shreds with ease.

You pull back from his lips, chest heaving for air as you paw at his shirt. Silently demanding he take it off which he happily does. Your lips are back onto his in an instant. He slowly walks you back until you fall onto the bed. You fall onto the bed and lick your lips. The bugle in his pants is evident as you flick your hand and the belt disappears. 

"I liked that belt." You pay no mind to his comment as you unbutton his jeans and pull them down, leaving him in his boxers. 

"Easy there sweetheart," Logan pushes you back gently and crawls on top of you. Logan kisses down your chest, teasing each nipple with his tongue. 

"Let me take my time." He purrs.

His hands touch and squeeze your breasts roughly making you whine. You watch his arms move, god he's so hot. He's close to making you forget. He kisses down, down, all the way down. He sneaks out the tip of his claws to pop open the button of your pants and he yanks them down until they're all the way off.

"There she is, my perfect girl." His girl. That's right your his girl. No one else's.

Logan pulls your panties to the side as he situates himself between your legs. He stuffs his face without shame, licking hungrily and practically moaning at the taste. You arch your back as Logan devours you. Watching his back muscles move are mesmerizing. He's yours. He loves you. He promises he does.

You can't stop the thoughts that begin to invade you. Overwhelmed by pleasure from Logan and pain from the horrible ideas that pop into your head. Did he do this with her too? Did he worship her? Do you taste like her? Is that why he can't get enough? 

"Fuck!" You hiss as you sit up and tell Logan to stop. He does immediately, wondering what the hell is going on. 

"Can't fucking wait." You scratch down his chest with your nails. He groans and tries to crawl on top of you but you shake your head. 

"I'm going to ride you until you can't come anymore." You growl.

You bite his shoulder harshly making him hiss. It heals right up much to your dismay. How badly you wish you could mark him. You make his boxers disappear but before he can make a smart comment you sink down on him all the way. You whimper as you start to bounce on his cock. Loving how much he fills you.

You need to be fucked stupid. You're desperate for Logan to fuck every bad thought out of your head. To promise that he loves you so that you can believe him. You want to believe him. Please, you have to believe him. 

"Sweetheart." Logan's breath is labored as you relentlessly fuck yourself on his cock. You feel so damn good but fuck he can tell something is on your mind. 

"What do you need, let me help you." He sits up on his hands, placing one on your back as he tries to get you to slow down. His words make you want to scream. What do you need? You look at him and the only thing your rotten brain can tell you is that he is thinking of her. 

"I need you to fucking love me!" You yell.

The dam of built up feelings breaks down as tears pour out of your eyes. Ugly, horrible sobs that make your body shake. Logan watches with horror in his eyes as he stills your hips, using his strength to lift you off of him as you continue to cry. 

"I do love you." He says softly but you shake your head. 

"No!" You shout. You pound your fist against Logan's chest over and over again but he barely moves. 

"You love her! I know you do." Logan's heart breaks at the sound of your sobs. 

"I'm not your dead fucking wife Logan!" You should regret the words coming out of your mouth but you can't stop them. 

"You look at me and you see her. Like I'm just some fucking placeholder!" You let out an anguished scream as Logan captures your wrists in his hands. You know the stories. She was a hero, she was perfect in every single way. 

"How can I compete with, with her?" You say completely defeated.

Your head falls against his chest. There's a sense of relief that washes over you. Thoughts that have plagued you for months are finally out in the open. Yet the fear of what comes next overtakes any other feeling.

"Look at me." Logan tilts your head up but you push his hand away. 

"Sweetheart." He sighs and lets go of your face.

Logan's never been good at this. Talking. Being vulnerable. Then he lost everything and he hardened even more and he just. This was a new chance at life and even though it's hard he can't lose it all again. 

"I know you're not her. Of course I do." Logan presses his forehead against yours, trying to get you to look at him. 

"You loved her..." You croak out. 

"I did love her. She was my wife. But I love you too. In a different way." He's a different man. Having gone through tremendous loss. It shaped him into who he is now. 

"You're different people. Your powers act differently, you talk differently, you feel different. You are not a replacement." He says firmly. 

When you finally look at him he feels this horrible pit in his stomach. He wipes away your tears but doesn't make any other move. It's not the right time.

"Would you have even given me a second thought? If I didn't look like her?" You ask, that question has haunted you for a while now but you never asked, too afraid of the answer. Logan is silent, unsure of how to answer. 

"When I first saw you it was like a punch in the face." He starts. "For a moment I was 20 years in the past. Then I snapped out of it. You look like her, yes but you’re not her.” He gently traces a small scar on your jaw that you got when you were a child. 

“I’m not the same as your Logan right? He was a leader, a hero and I was an angry drunk murderer.” 

“I’m not gonna start listing all your fucking differences sweetheart, but I swear on my life that I love you for you.” He pulls you into a tight hug as you start to cry again. You cling onto him as tight as you can. The bad thoughts don’t just stop, even if you want them to but Logans whispering sweet words in your ear. Pushing out every bad thought for now.

“Logan,” You take a deep breath, letting Logan invade all your senses. Tobacco and whiskey. 

“I need you.” He’s hesitant, not sure if it’s the right time.

“Please, I just need you.”

“Okay sweetheart, you have me.” He slowly rolls you over and lays you on your back.

He captures your lips into a kiss. His hips rolling slowly making you moan softly. His lips drift from your lips to the corner of your mouth to your cheek, trailing down. Each one so gentle, so full of love.

“You have this spot, righttt here.” Logan nibbles on your neck and you gasp when bites right at this spot that drives you wild. You melt into the mattress as he kisses over it.

“Always makes you relax.” He crawls lower, kissing down your body. He sits up on his knees and grabs a pillow to place under your back.

“I know you like to be slightly elevated because it means I can go just a little deeper.” He purrs as he takes his cock in his hands and gently rubs the tip of it along your folds. He slides two fingers into your cunt slowly.

“Know that my fingers drive you absolutely wild, that you need me to go slow to start.” You nod absentmindedly.

You never realized he picked up on all these things. His fingers start to slide in smoother, your cunt getting wetter for him. He leans down and takes a deep breath, groaning at the scent. He slips them out and licks them clean.

“Relax sweetheart,” He spreads your thighs and slips in all the way. Going slow but unrelenting, stretching you just how you like.

“So impatient, you never let me take it easy on you right? Just wanna be full all the time.” He leans down on his elbows as he rolls his hips nice and slow.

There will be no rough sex this time, this is about love. To show you that he truly does love you for you.

“Look at me,” He tilts your head so that your eyes meet. He smiles at the desperate look on your face.

“You can pretend it makes you all embarrassed, but I know you like eye contact.” He hums as he angles his hips so that he hits that perfect spot.

You jolt as pleasure rocks through your whole body but he keeps you under him. He’s slowly and methodically tearing you apart. Every touch, every word out of his mouth just makes it better. He knows. Of course he does.

“I love you Logan.” Your hands cup his face as you stare into his hazel eyes.

This time not filled with lust, but with a true deep love. He looks at you like you’re everything.

“I love you too.” He kisses you as he starts to pick up the pace of his thrusts. He smirks as he feels you start to squirm under him. You could never help it when you were close.

“Come on sweetheart, just let go.” He whispers in your ear.

His deep voice paired with the unrelenting feeling of his cock is all it takes. He holds you in his firm arms as a warm and wonderful tingling sensation runs through your whole body. A blissful smile on your face as you tilt your head back.

You feel your whole body relax as your mind calms. Logan tries to hide his growls as he fucks into you a little faster, until he’s coming hard and deep inside of you. He sighs in contentment as he stays inside of you. He taps your cheek lightly and you look up at him.

“I love you. No one else. Just you.” He moves to pull out but you whine. You need to be close to him right now. He chuckles as he slowly moves to your side. Spooning you tightly with his cock still deep inside of you.

“Can we talk?” You ask shyly.

“About what?” Logan grunts as he pulls you as close as he can get you.

“Anything?” He’s not much of a talker so he asks the questions instead.

How did you discover your powers? How did you meet wade? Just anything and everything and you tell him.

You talk for who knows how long. Staying wrapped in each other's arms. It helps, it really does. Logan listens, he really does listen. He wants to get to know you. He loves you. You rest your head on his chest, tracing shapes into his palm as you talk.

For the first time in a while your mind seems to settle. Ignoring any thought that may try and ruin your mood. It’s just you and him right now. There’s no looming figure of your alternate selves, not anymore.

Just you and Logan. Forever.

[fyiin7]

I just wanna be the girl you like!

⋆˚✿˖° Geto Suguru loves bullying and humiliating you, making your college life hell. But he doesn't know, that you secretly likes it.

⋆˚✿˖° Pairings: Bully! Suguru x Fem! Reader

⋆˚✿˖°Tags: Smut with plot, slight angst, doggy style, spanking, masochist, rough sex, masturbation (in front of Suguru :0), spitting in mouth, choking, hair pulling, oral sex (m receiving), face fucking

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆°°✩✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆°°✩✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆°°✩✮ ⋆ ˚｡

You step onto the campus grounds, the early morning sun casting long shadows across the bustling courtyard. With a deep breath, you clutch your bag a little tighter, bracing yourself for what you know is coming. It’s become routine by now—college life should be a fresh start, but for you, it's an ongoing battle. And that battle has a name: Suguru Geto.

You spot him almost immediately, leaning casually against a lamppost with his friends, his dark hair falling lazily across his forehead. He’s smirking, as usual, already exuding an air of authority. His gaze sweeps across the courtyard until it lands on you. Your heart skips a beat despite yourself, and you can feel the familiar rush of adrenaline and nerves.

As Suguru pushes off the lamppost and starts walking in your direction, his friends snicker, already anticipating the show.

“There you are, loser,” he calls out, loud enough for those around you to hear. His voice is casual, as though this were just another day of teasing, another moment of him singling you out.

You swallow hard, the butterflies in your stomach doing somersaults as he approaches. Your cheeks burn, not from embarrassment, but from the strange thrill of seeing him up close. There’s something about the way he moves, the confidence in his step that has you unable to look away—even though you know what's coming.

Suguru stops just in front of you, towering over you with that trademark smirk. “Didn’t think you’d make it today. Thought you finally got smart and dropped out.”

His words are sharp, cutting through the air, but they don’t sting like they should. Instead, your heart pounds in your chest, betraying how much you crave his attention, even if it’s through insults.

“I—I’m here,” you manage to mumble, trying to keep your voice steady. You lower your gaze, hoping he doesn’t notice how flustered you are.

“Of course you are,” he scoffs, stepping even closer. You feel the tip of his shoe nudge yours, a clear power play. “How could you stay away, huh? Always following me around like a lost puppy.”

His friends laugh, and you know you should feel humiliated. But instead, all you can focus on is how close he is, how his scent—a mix of cologne and something uniquely Suguru—fills the air between you. If only he knew how much you looked forward to these moments.

Suguru’s hand reaches out, flicking the strap of your bag just enough to make you lose grip, and it tumbles to the ground. “Oops,” he says with mock innocence. “You’re so clumsy. Can’t even hold onto your stuff.”

As you bend down to pick it up, you hear him chuckle under his breath. Normally, being treated like this would have anyone seething with anger or sadness. But not you. In some twisted way, this is the only interaction you get with him, and it’s enough. Your secret crush on him is a guilty pleasure, one you know you shouldn’t have, but can’t shake off.

As you rise, your eyes meet his, and for a brief second, you wonder if he sees it—if he can sense that you’re not like the others. That you don’t mind. That, in a way, you look forward to these encounters.

But then the smirk returns, and he turns to leave. “See you around, loser,” he throws over his shoulder, his friends following behind him. You watch him go, your heart still racing.

Even though you’ve just been humiliated, part of you can’t wait for the next time.

⋆˚✿˖°⋆˚✿˖°⋆˚✿˖°⋆˚✿˖°⋆˚✿˖°⋆˚✿˖°⋆˚✿˖°⋆˚✿˖°⋆˚✿˖

You were sitting in the corner of the campus café, absentmindedly stirring your coffee as the hum of student chatter filled the air. It was supposed to be a quick break before your next class, but then you heard a familiar voice.

Suguru.

Your heart skipped a beat as you saw him sitting at a nearby table with his friends. You hadn’t planned on paying attention, but when you caught the topic of their conversation, your curiosity spiked.

“So, Suguru,” one of his friends said with a teasing grin, “you gotta tell us. What’s your type? You’re always brushing girls off like they don’t exist.”

You felt your ears perk up, and instinctively, you shifted in your seat, trying to make it look like you were still minding your own business. But your attention was laser-focused now, every fiber of your being tuned into what Suguru might say next.

“Yeah, come on, man,” another friend chimed in. “There’s gotta be someone who catches your eye. Or are you just too good for everyone?”

Suguru leaned back in his chair, that ever-present smirk tugging at his lips. He seemed unfazed by the question, his eyes lazily scanning the room as though thinking it over. You couldn’t help but bite your lip, anticipation gnawing at you. What if you fit his type? What if you didn’t?

Finally, Suguru spoke, his tone casual. “I guess I like a girl who’s not too easy to figure out.”

Your heart sped up. Not easy to figure out? What did that mean?

His friend raised an eyebrow. “That’s vague, man. You gotta give us more than that.”

Suguru chuckled softly. “I mean, someone who’s not all over me, you know? Confident but not in my face about it. Someone who’s got her own thing going on.”

You subtly grabbed your phone, opening a blank note and typing down his words as discreetly as possible. Confident…has her own thing going on…not too easy to figure out…

Suguru’s eyes glinted as he continued, leaning forward slightly. “She’s gotta be tough, but not loud about it. I don’t need someone who constantly tries to get my attention. I’ll notice her when she’s just doing her thing.”

Your fingers hovered over the screen, digesting his words. Tough but not loud. Someone who doesn’t need to try too hard. You wondered if you could be that kind of person. You certainly never tried to get his attention on purpose—but then again, was that what kept him bullying you?

His friend laughed, shaking his head. “So, basically a girl who can handle your attitude, huh?”

Suguru shrugged, smirking. “Something like that. And maybe someone who can surprise me.”

Surprise him? You furrowed your brow. That was a tricky one. What would surprise someone like Suguru, who always seemed so unfazed by everything?

The conversation drifted after that, but you were already lost in thought, replaying his words over and over. You couldn’t help but wonder—could you be that girl? Could you show Suguru that you had more to offer than what he saw when he teased you? Maybe, just maybe, there was a way to catch his attention without changing too much of who you were.

You glanced back at him, his confident posture and careless expression still making your heart race. One thing was certain: you were going to try.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆°°✩✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆°°✩✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆°°✩✮ ⋆ ˚｡

The next morning, you woke up before the sun had even fully risen, your heart already racing with a mixture of excitement and nerves. Today was different. Today, you had a plan.

You tiptoed into your sister's room, gently nudging her awake. She groaned, rubbing her eyes as she propped herself up. "Why are you waking me up this early?" she mumbled, still half-asleep.

You smiled, trying to sound casual. “I just thought… maybe you could help me with some makeup? You know, just for fun. I kinda want to look pretty today.”

Your sister raised an eyebrow, still a little groggy but clearly surprised. “Since when do you care about makeup?”

You shrugged, avoiding her gaze. “I dunno. Just felt like changing things up.”

After some teasing and half-hearted grumbling, she eventually agreed. You sat in front of her vanity, letting her work her magic. As the brush swept across your cheeks and the eyeliner flicked along your lashes, you couldn’t help but glance at yourself in the mirror. It was subtle, but enough to make you feel… different. Maybe even confident.

By the time she finished, you barely recognized yourself. You looked put-together, polished, like someone who could easily fit into Suguru’s idea of a girl who “had her own thing going on.”

Your sister stood back, admiring her work. “There. You look amazing. Who’s this for, anyway? Anyone special?”

You shook your head quickly, laughing nervously. “No, no one. I just wanted to do it for myself.”

She gave you a knowing look, but didn’t press further. “Well, whoever it’s for, they’re gonna notice you.”

That’s what you hoped for, too.

..

Arriving on campus, you felt a little more self-conscious than usual. Every time someone’s gaze lingered a little too long, you wondered if they noticed the makeup, if you looked different from your usual self. Your heart pounded as you scanned the courtyard for Suguru, anticipation swirling in your stomach.

Then, you saw him—leaning against the same lamppost as yesterday, his familiar group of friends surrounding him. You took a deep breath, squaring your shoulders and walking in their direction, hoping that maybe today he’d see you in a new light.

But as soon as you came into view, his eyes found yours. A flicker of something—was it surprise?—crossed his face before it quickly turned back into his usual smirk.

“Well, well, look who it is,” Suguru said, pushing off the lamppost as he strolled toward you. His friends snickered behind him, already sensing something was coming. “You trying out a new look today?”

Your throat tightened, nerves buzzing under your skin. You nodded slightly, not trusting your voice. Maybe—just maybe—he’d say something nice. Maybe he’d notice the effort you’d put in, even if he didn’t say it outright.

Suguru stopped in front of you, his eyes scanning your face with an expression you couldn’t quite read. For a second, hope bubbled in your chest.

Then he laughed. Loud, sharp, and cruel.

“What’s this? You think a little makeup is gonna change who you are?” He stepped closer, his voice dripping with condescension. “You look pathetic.”

The word hit you like a punch to the gut. You blinked, feeling your face heat up—not from the flustered crush you were used to, but from the sting of his words.

“I mean, come on,” he continued, still smirking. “Who are you trying to impress? Me? That’s just sad.”

You couldn’t move. Every word felt like it was tearing through the fragile confidence you’d built up that morning. His friends laughed along with him, their voices a distant echo as you stood frozen, your heart sinking.

Suguru tilted his head, as if waiting for a reaction, but all you could do was stand there, cheeks burning, your gaze fixed on the ground. You had hoped—no, expected—something different. But now, you just felt… humiliated.

With a final scoff, Suguru turned away, his interest in you fading as quickly as it had come. “Better luck next time, loser."

As he walked off, you stayed rooted in place, trying to keep the tears from welling up. You had tried so hard to get his attention, but now, you weren’t sure it had been worth it at all.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆°°✩✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆°°✩✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆°°✩✮ ⋆ ˚｡

You barely made it to the bathroom before the tears started spilling over. The second the door closed behind you, you rushed into one of the stalls, slamming the lock shut. The cool metal felt grounding under your fingertips as you pressed your back against the door, sliding down until you were sitting on the floor.

The floodgates opened, and you couldn’t hold back anymore. Your chest ached, the humiliation twisting and knotting inside you. Hot tears streamed down your face, your vision blurring as you buried your head in your hands.

Your makeup. The hours spent preparing, the hopeful glances in the mirror that morning—it was all for nothing.

You felt the sting of your eyeliner and mascara mixing with the tears, smudging and running down your cheeks. You wiped at your face furiously, only to make it worse. Black streaks stained your fingers as your sobs grew louder, echoing in the empty bathroom.

Why had you thought this would work? Why had you convinced yourself that Suguru would see you differently, even for a second? He had laughed in your face, torn down every bit of hope you had built up.

Pathetic. The word echoed in your mind, replaying over and over.

You weren’t tough. You weren’t confident. You were just the same person he bullied every day, and no amount of makeup or effort could change that.

A sharp sob escaped your throat, and you pressed your hand against your mouth to muffle the sound. You hated how vulnerable you felt—alone, broken down by the person you secretly admired.

You sniffled, feeling the wetness on your cheeks, smearing the once-pristine makeup your sister had applied with care. There was no use trying to fix it now. Everything was ruined.

As the tears slowed and the sobs quieted, the rawness in your chest remained. You didn’t know how long you’d been sitting there, but the cold bathroom stall felt like a strange refuge, a place where you could fall apart without anyone seeing.

Maybe you should just give up liking your own bully.

..

After that day, you made a decision—you weren’t going to waste any more time on Suguru. It wasn’t easy to let go of feelings that had been festering for so long, but his cruel laughter and the sting of his words were more than enough to finally shake you awake.

Since then, you’d managed to avoid him. You memorized his usual routes around campus, always taking another hallway or exiting through a different door. Even if you caught a glimpse of him from a distance, you turned your head or ducked into the nearest building. For days, you managed to keep out of his line of sight, and for the first time, it felt like you had a sliver of control.

No more Suguru Geto. No more being his punching bag.

But on one particular afternoon, just as classes had ended and you were gathering your things, you felt a sharp tug on your arm. Startled, you barely had time to react before you were yanked backward, stumbling as someone pulled you out of the crowd. Your heart jumped into your throat when you saw who it was.

Suguru.

Without a word, he dragged you down the hallway, his grip tight and unyielding, his expression unreadable. You tried to pull away, panic rising in your chest, but his hold on you only tightened.

"Suguru, what the fuck are you—" you started, but he cut you off with a harsh glare, his jaw clenched, clearly not in the mood for explanations.

He pulled you into one of the campus’s old, rarely used classrooms. The door slammed shut behind you as he shoved you inside, trapping you in the space with him. The classroom was dusty and forgotten, with old desks piled up and dim light filtering through dirty windows. It felt claustrophobic, and your heart pounded as you turned to face him.

Suguru looked furious. His usually calm, smirking demeanor was gone, replaced by something colder, sharper. His eyes bore into yours with a strange intensity, his fists clenched at his sides.

"Why the hell have you been avoiding me?" he growled, his voice low and dangerous.

You blinked, caught off guard. Of all the things you’d expected, this confrontation was not one of them. "What—what do you mean?"

“You know exactly what I mean," he snapped, stepping closer. "Don’t play dumb."

His anger was palpable, and it sent a shiver down your spine. You swallowed hard, trying to find your voice. "I—I just... I needed space. You made it pretty clear how you feel about me."

Suguru’s eyes narrowed, and for a moment, he seemed taken aback. "What are you talking about?"

You clenched your fists, suddenly finding the courage to say what had been boiling inside you since that day. "You called me pathetic, Suguru! You humiliated me in front of everyone, laughed in my face! What more is there to say?"

For a brief second, his expression faltered, but it quickly hardened again. "That’s no reason to just disappear."

You stared at him, disbelief washing over you. “Why does it even matter to you? I thought you didn’t care.”

Suguru’s gaze darkened, his frustration evident. "It matters," he said through gritted teeth, though his voice was quieter now, almost as if he didn’t want to admit it. "And I don’t like being ignored."

Your heart pounded in your chest as Suguru’s words sank in. The sheer audacity of his anger—his claim that you had no right to avoid him—boiled something deep within you. For days, you had dealt with the sting of humiliation, replaying his cruel laughter over and over in your head. And now, here he was, angry because you had taken control, because you had the nerve to walk away?

Suddenly, something snapped inside you. Without thinking, you swung your hand, and the sharp sound of your palm connecting with his cheek echoed through the room.

Suguru’s head snapped to the side from the force of the slap, and for a moment, everything was still. You stood there, your breath coming in ragged gasps, your hand trembling from the adrenaline. It was the first time you had ever fought back against him.

But that moment of silence didn’t last.

In an instant, Suguru’s rage flared. His eyes darkened, and before you could even blink, his hand shot out, gripping you roughly by the hair. You gasped as the sharp pain radiated through your scalp, your head forced back to meet his furious gaze.

"You really shouldn’t have done that," he growled.

Your heart hammered in your chest, but despite the fear coursing through you, a flicker of defiance still burned. You glared back at him, refusing to let him see you cower.

Suguru’s grip tightened, and he leaned in, his breath hot against your face as his voice dropped to a venomous whisper. "You think you’re brave now? Pathetic," he spat. "You’ve always been pathetic. And what’s worse is that you actually thought putting on some makeup and acting like someone else would change anything. Like I wouldn’t notice."

His words cut deep, but you couldn’t move, couldn’t escape the hold he had on you. His hand tugged harder at your hair, and you winced, biting your lip to keep from crying out.

"You think I didn’t know?" he continued, his sneer twisting into something crueler. "It’s obvious you’ve had a crush on me this whole time. You practically throw yourself at me every time I walk by. It’s pathetic how you thought you could hide it."

Your stomach dropped. The blood drained from your face as the reality of his words hit you. He had known all along. Every glance, every small interaction you’d thought was hidden… he had seen it. And worse, he had mocked you for it.

"Is that why you’re always following me around, huh?" Suguru’s voice was laced with contempt. "Thinking you’d have a chance? You’re delusional."

Tears prickled at the corners of your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. You wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.

Your heart pounded in your chest as Suguru's grip on your hair tightened, his eyes burning with a dark intensity. The sharp sting against your scalp made your breath hitch, but it wasn’t just the pain that had you reeling—it was the look in his eyes, the way his lips curled into that familiar smirk, but now, there was something more dangerous behind it.

"You really like me, huh?" he sneered, his voice low, almost a purr. His face was so close now that you could feel the heat radiating off him, the tension crackling between you like electricity. "All this time… trying to get my attention."

Your heart thudded painfully, but before you could muster a response, his smirk deepened. His thumb brushed against your cheek, rough but deliberate. "If you like me that much, you need to prove it. Show me how much you really do."

Before you could even process his words, Suguru’s lips crashed against yours. The kiss was rough, almost punishing, as he claimed your mouth with an intensity that left you breathless. There was no softness, no hesitation—it was fierce, filled with the pent-up tension that had been building between you two for so long.

You froze for a moment, overwhelmed by the sudden rush of sensation, but then his hand gripped the back of your neck, pulling you closer. Your body responded instinctively, melting into the kiss despite the chaos in your mind. His touch, rough yet possessive, sent a shiver down your spine.

Suguru’s lips moved against yours with a desperate hunger, as if he had been holding back for far too long. And even though his actions were far from gentle, there was something undeniable in the way he kissed you—as if he was proving something, too.

When he finally pulled back, both of you were breathing heavily, your chest rising and falling as you struggled to catch your breath. His eyes locked onto yours, dark and unreadable, and the ghost of a smirk tugged at his lips.

"You wanted my attention," he said, his voice low and dripping with arrogance. "Well, now you have it."

"Get on your knees," he said, his voice firm as he pushed you down. "I want to see those pretty lips wrapped around my cock."

He towers over you, slowly undoing his pants. His cock springs free, already hard and ready. "Come on, baby," he coaxed, his voice laced with desire, "Show me what you've got." He grabbed your hair again, guiding your head towards his cock, a wicked grin spreading across his face.

You can feel your pussy clenching, body begging for his cock. Your tongue darts out, licking the tip of his cock, the taste of his pre-cum making your mouth water.

Your lips part, and you feels your body betray you as you take the head of Suguru’s cock into your mouth, tongue swirling around the tip, savoring the taste.

Suguru let out a guttural moan as your tongue flicked against the tip of his cock, the sensation sending a jolt of pleasure through him. His grip on your hair tightened, his fingers threading through your strands as he watched you take him in.

"Fuck, baby, that's it," he praised, his hips bucking slightly, as if trying to push deeper into your mouth. "Keep going, let's see how far you can take me." He could feel the heat of your mouth, the wetness of your tongue, and he knew he wouldn't last long.

He wanted to fuck you, to claim you in every way possible. "Now, I want you to take it all, deepthroat my cock, baby," he commanded, his voice gruff and demanding. He wanted to see how much you could handle, how much you'd submit to his will. "Show me how much you want my cock inside you."

You swallow your saliva, before you slowly took him in deeper, hollowing your cheeks. He groaned, the sound deep and primal as he felt you take him deeper. But it wasn't enough, not nearly enough. He needed more, needed to control this, needed to make you submit to him completely.

"Fuck, baby, that's not gonna cut it," he growled, his grip on your hair tightening even more. He started to thrust his hips, fucking your mouth with abandon, his cock sliding in and out, deeper and harder each time.

"Take it, baby," he commanded, his voice harsh and demanding. "Take my cock, all of it. Show me how much you want it." He could feel you gagging, feel your body struggling to take him in, and it only spurred him on more. He wanted to see you choke on his cock, wanted to see you completely at his mercy.

Your eyes are started to get watery, you are out of breath. "Mmf..!" your voice muffled. Your hand tap his thighs, signaling that you really need your oxygen.

The sight of you submitting to him like this only made him harder, his cock twitching in your mouth. He could see the water in your eyes, but he didn't let up.

He wanted to dominate you, to show you who was in control. He pulled your head back, slamming his cock into your mouth, face-fucking you mercilessly. "That's it, take it, you little bitch," he growled, his hips moving in a frenzied rhythm. "I want to see you gag on my cock."

He didn't care about your need for oxygen, only driven by his desires. He could feel your throat muscles clenching around his cock, the sensation making him even more aroused. "Fuck, you're loving this, aren't you?" he snarled, his grip on your hair never loosening.

He continued to face-fuck you, his cock sliding in and out of your mouth, the sound of wet slapping filling the room. A cruel smile spread across his face as he pulled out slightly, allowing you to gasp for air. Suguru’s hand land on your left cheek, his slap a stinging pain. But for some reason, you love it.

"H-hah..t-that's enough..please.." you begged, already breathless.

Suguru released you and watched as you tried to catch your breath, the sight of you gagging and struggling turning him on even more. "Alright, baby, you've earned a break," he lied, his smirk returning.

He pulled you up, standing you in front of a table in the corner of the room. "Bend over," he commanded, his voice firm. You hesitated, but he didn't give you the chance to refuse. He grabbed your hips, turning you around and pushing you down onto the table.

"Keep your legs spread and your arms on the table," he ordered, his hand already hovering over your ass. "Now, count, starting from one."

Suguru brought his hand down hard on your ass, making you yelp in surprise. "One," you said, voice shaky. He spanked you again, this time harder, making you cry out. "T-two!"

He continued to spank you, his hand connecting with your ass with a loud smack each time. "Three, f-four..ah! Five.."

You could feel the sting on your ass, the heat building with each spank as you counted until.. "N-nine..ten," you said, and his hand pausing for a moment. "Now, I want you to spread your legs wider and touch yourself, baby," he commanded, his voice a cruel mix of desire and control.

"W-what?" You hesitated. but he tightened his grip on your hair, pulling it enough to make you whimper. "Do it, slut," he growled, the use of the name making you wetter.

You obeyed, spreading your legs as wide as you could, your fingers finding your wetness. "Good girl," he praised, his hand sliding down your back to cup your ass, squeezing it gently. "Now, play with yourself while I watch."

Leaning against the table, Suguru’s eyes locked on your fingers as they moved to rub yourself through your cotton panties. The sight of you touching yourself, the sound of your whimpers, drives him insane.

He stepped forward, his cock harder than ever, and ripped off your panties. "Enough playing, baby," he growled, his hands gripping your hips.

He positioned himself at your entrance, his cock pressing against you, teasing you. "I'm going to fuck you now, and I'm going to fuck you hard," he warned, his voice laced with promise and threat.

Without waiting for your response, Suguru thrust into you, his cock filling you completely. "H-hngh..!!" you let out a loud moan as he began to move inside you. He pulled your hair back, his grip tight, and started to fuck you with a rough, animalistic fervor.

Suguru slammed into you, his hips moving in a brutal rhythm, your body bouncing on the table. His other hand came around, gripping your throat, applying just enough pressure to make you gasp for air. "Fuck, you feel so good. Too good for a loser," he growled, his thrusts growing harder, more desperate while his hand moves to pinch both of your nipple, making you yelp in surprised.

"Open your mouth," he demand. Suguru, in the heat of the moment, decided to spit into your mouth. He pulled your head back, your lips meeting his in a rough, sloppy kiss. His tongue forced its way into your mouth, mingling with his saliva.

The act only seemed to fuel his lust further. He let go of your throat, his hand sliding down to your ass, gripping it tightly. "You like that, don't you, hm?" he growled, his voice deep and possessive. "You like being treated like this?" Your pussy clenches tightly at his treatment, you feel your mind going numb, dumb, in a haze.

He started to spank you again, his hand connecting with your ass with a loud smack. The sound echoed through the cabin, the sting of the spank making you cry out. "Tell me you like it," he demanded, his thrusts becoming more erratic.

"O-oh fuck..yes..I love it-!" you moaned, eyes rolling back. "P-please..I'm gonna cum-!" you moaned, almost a scream.

Suguru leaned down, his lips pressing against your ear. "Cum for me, baby. Cum on my cock," he commanded, his voice raw and needy as he rubs your clit with his thumb in a tight circle. He felt your body tense, your walls clenching around him, and that was all it took.

With a loud groan, he let go, his seed filling you as he continued to thrust. He held you close, his grip tight as he rode out the waves of pleasure. "Fuck, baby, take it all in," he whispered, his voice heavy with lust and possession.

Suguru pulled out of you, his cock glistening with your juices and his cum. He let out a low whistle, looking at your fucked up state. He didn't miss a chance to took his phone out, taking a picture of you before he wore his pants back.

“Well,” he said, his tone teasing, almost indifferent. “I’d say that’s more than enough for you to remember me by. Consider it a gift for all that hopeless admiration of yours.” He chuckled softly, the sound cold and dismissive, making your chest tighten.

You sat there, still catching your breath, your body weak from everything that had just happened, but his words stung. You had just shared something so intimate, something that had felt so intense in the moment, but to him… it seemed like it was nothing. Just a way to toy with you.

Suguru turned away, adjusting his shirt like this was just another moment in his day. “Don’t go thinking this means anything more,” he added, his voice casual as he headed toward the door. “This was just… for fun. And now it’s over.”

You swallowed hard, feeling a painful lump form in your throat as you watched him. Part of you wanted to shout at him, to ask why he had done this, why he had kissed you and touched you like that if it meant nothing. But the words wouldn’t come. Instead, you watched as he reached for the door, pausing for just a second before looking over his shoulder, his gaze sharp.

“Take care, yeah? I’ve got better things to do.” And with that, Suguru stepped out of the classroom, leaving you alone in the dim, quiet space.

For a long moment, you didn’t move. Your mind was spinning, your emotions tangled in a confusing mess of anger, hurt, and… something else. You knew you should hate him for how he treated you, for the way he had used your feelings against you, but as you sat there, your body still tingling from his touch, a realization crept in.

Despite everything, despite his cruelty and the way he had just dismissed you—you couldn’t stop yourself from falling for him all over again. The way he looked at you, the way his touch had made you feel alive, like you were the only person in the world for just that moment… it had reignited something in you.

You pressed your hand to your chest, feeling your heart pound. How could someone who hurt you so deeply also make you feel so intensely?

Even after everything, you couldn’t deny it. You were still hopelessly in love with Suguru Geto.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆°°✩✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆°°✩✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆°°✩✮ ⋆ ˚｡

[thewhumpcaretaker]

⚜ Marquis of Los Angeles: Ch. 2 - Domination

ཐི♡ཋྀ Thank you for the beta-read, @evrensadwrn! ཐི♡ཋྀ

Summary: LaCroix briefs Vincent on the new world he has just entered into, with the expectation that he will be an obedient ghoul. But Vincent is still struggling to gain the upper hand.

Author's Note: I made myself sad writing this - I want Sebastian to turn from Whumper to Caretaker already!

TW: mind control, emotional manipulation, strangulation, kidnapping

It was not LaCroix’s habit to keep his subordinates close to him. If it was wise to keep enemies close, then it was wiser to keep envious inferiors at such a distance that they had no opportunity to become enemies. Ghouls ought to have no knowledge of their master’s weaknesses, and no importance as anything other than pawns. They ought to view him as a solitary, impenetrable figure, above even their understanding. But Vincent Bisset de Gramont proved himself an enemy from the start, and therefore, an exception.

LaCroix repeated that name in his head and smiled, rolling it and playing with it, along with the bullet in his palm which he had decided to keep as a souvenir. Vincent had become so incensed when LaCroix refused to use his title that he determined on the spot never to use it again. The man had to be taught a lesson. “You are no Marquis any longer, let alone an ‘Autem Imperator,’ Vincent. Those titles have no meaning here. You will learn new titles. ‘Prince.’ ‘Regnant.’ ‘Domitor.’ And they will belong to me, not to you - as do all things where we’re going. Know your place.” He leaned back into the quilted suede of his seat, letting starlight and the dimmed glow of the cabin play across his features to what he hoped was a mysterious and intimidating effect.

“Your hubris knows no bounds, Prince,” Vincent spat back, clutching the arms of his seat as if his wrists were lashed to them. “They’re looking for me even now. Do you think you can walk into a High Table duel and make off with the highest ranking –“

“No one is looking for you, because no one knows you’re missing. Everyone who saw me believes they saw a kindly priest who said his respects over your body before helping that fellow – The Harbinger, I believe you call him – lay you to rest in a casket for your mortician to carry away. Tomorrow, that empty casket will be buried.”

A flash of panic before his pretty green eyes lit up again. “The mortician will – “

“The mortician wasn’t your man. He was mine. I sent a local friend to take his place, and to oversee the proceedings. You’re as good as dead, Vincent. I’m dreadfully sorry.”

He went as ghostly white as his travelling companion then. He remained very quiet while Sebastian explained to him the meanings of those important titles he’d mentioned, as well as other relevant words such as “Masquerade” and “Camarilla” and “Ventrue.”

LaCroix’s hope of entertainment during the flight was very much fulfilled. Vincent made for a captivating (if pitiful) image, with blood still smeared across his forehead and wetness sparkling in his eyes. LaCroix couldn’t stop staring at him and wondering whether he’d really cry or not. It filled him with a strange mix of sadism and sympathy that kept the Prince continuously in suspense. It sent him inexplicably trembling to hear Vincent say, “You’ll have to forgive me, Sebastian, I’m just so confused. Please…help me understand everything.”

He was coherent enough to ask intelligent questions though, and always seemed to latch onto those subjects that were a little too top-secret for a first conversation with a ghoul, whilst sighing that he was just so confused and scared. Clearly, he knew his way around a syndicate like the Camarilla and went straight for the vital information. When at last the Prince tired of this game and started to inquire about Vincent’s own organization, he refused to divulge anything.

It confused Sebastian a little. Every other ghoul he’d ever created had hung on his words in an ecstasy that totally drowned out the loss of their former life. They typically begged to repay him for saving them and fell over themselves to please him until he was either amused or disgusted. They certainly didn’t issue desperate pleas and threats about returning to their old life, or try to ply information out of him, or protect their old secrets. But Vincent? Well…there was no doubt that Vincent was affected by Sebastian. Sometimes his eyes lingered on LaCroix as if he wasn’t quite able to look away. But the look there wasn’t puppy love, it was…horror. Hatred. As if Vincent was looking at an old grudge who had wronged him grievously. Something wasn’t right.

He wasn’t in deep enough, that was all. He’d only taken the first sip of vitae – two still remained to form a full blood bond. And he was hardly a pliant individual, that much was evident. For now, Sebastian supposed he’d have to secure the ghoul’s cooperation via commands. “Vincent. When I ask you a question about the High Table, you will answer me directly, honestly, and without embellishments. Do you understand?”

A glazed, vacant look replaced the pitiful one. “I understand.”

There, good. Sebastian let out a breath, only just realizing how tense he had become, and began his inquisition.

He knew a little about the High Table already. It was not so different from the Giovanni, but even larger by membership the Camarilla, and impressive for a human construction. It was difficult to be anyone significant in either the human or kindred underworld without running across the High Table’s activities at some point. But the Autem Imperator (Sebastian might not call him by his title out loud, but he wasn’t forgetting it for an instant in his own mind) offered a unique view of its proceedings. Within minutes, LaCroix knew who held each seat, how communications passed between members, how those communications might be intercepted, into which countries their influence had spread (it was most of them), and even where the Elder resided.

It had been no idle tip, he realized, that suggested he should pay a visit to his home country and rest in the basilica that day. It had been, in fact, pure gold in the form of an anonymous email. He almost passed it up as an attempted ruse or ambush, even with all the power promised by the stranger on the other end. But it also spoke to a Masquerade violation, and even the Nosferatu could not trace it. The sender must have had a contact, someone who could encrypt on their level. So he went personally, just for 24 hours, with the resolution that he would return to the safety of LA as soon as possible.

Remembering at last to the original purpose of his visit, LaCroix asked his ghoul one final question, shortly before landing.

“Do you have an associate who would go by the initial ‘C’?”

Even under domination, he rolled his eyes. “Of course I do. You’ll have to be more specific.”

Sebastian held out the message on his phone. “Who could this have been?”

“Is it true that you can help someone live beyond death? If you really are I’ve been told you are, then come at once, to Paris. Come to the Sacré-Coeur Basilica just before dawn. If you’re lucky and I’m unlucky, you will find a man there who cannot escape death any other way. If you keep him alive, he will offer you knowledge and power equal to your own, pertaining to a human organization you may know as the High Table. Take him away from me, change him, disappear him, I don’t care. Only save his life and make him happy, and you will have my eternal thanks. He does not know, and will never know, what he means to me.”

- C”

“My bodyguard, Chidi.” His voice was strained almost to the breaking point, and his eyes still fixed on Sebastian’s phone even after the email was closed. Sebastian had no questions about whether he was faking his tearfulness this time.

“A ghoul of your very own, of sorts! Where can I find him?”

Vincent closed his eyes for a moment before mustering an answer. “…He’s dead.”

“Ah, splendid. That saves me a great deal of trouble.”

And then Vincent did what no ghoul, whether on one sip of vitae or three, should have been capable of doing. He sprung forward and closed hands around his domitor’s neck.

.¸¸.*✧*.¸¸.*✧*.¸¸. ཐི♡ཋྀ.¸¸.*✧*.¸¸.*✧*.¸¸.

It took Vincent much longer than it should have to recall that Sebastian didn’t need to breathe. By that time, he was already being dragged off by the enormous, visibly supernatural thing that Sebastian had introduced as “The Sheriff.”

“Get this brainless lump off of me!”

“Hey,” The Sheriff grunted. Vincent paid him no mind, and continued addressing LaCroix with exactly as much civility as he deserved, all the while straining against the boulder-heavy hands holding him back.

“You will not SPEAK to me that way and you will not – “ Fuck, he hated the way his voice was shaking… “You will not speak of my bodyguard’s death as – as ‘splendid!’”

“And you will not speak to me at all until you can behave yourself!” LaCroix retorted. “SILENCE!”

The voice seemed to go out of Vincent’s throat. All his resistance had been used up in the outburst and he sunk numbly back into his seat.

LaCroix was panting, a shaking hand against his neck. He adjusted his tie and recovered himself enough to laugh. “Imagine trying to strangle a vampire! And the one holding your life in his hands, no less. You’re one to talk of brainlessness. And just when I was beginning to respect your cunning.” Vincent opened his mouth and nothing came out, so he spat in LaCroix’s face instead.

“Oh for god’s sake - You don’t speak AND you don’t move!” Vincent smiled as he watched LaCroix wipe at his face with a handkerchief, scowling. But another wave of terrible compulsion spread through his limbs, and then he was paralyzed.

It was such a strange feeling, being “dominated.” It was the same magnetism that drew him to LaCroix when he first laid eyes on him (that must be the “vitae” he had spoken about), but stronger, and more concentrated. Making him capable of magnificent feats, making him motivated, drawing his focus, making things important to him. As if a power was bursting out from inside of Vincent. It wasn’t so unlike being high, and not wholly unpleasant. But it was not his to control, not a part of him. It was LaCroix’s, and he hated it for that, and he hated LaCroix for that too. Maybe, if he just held onto that hatred…

But LaCroix’s conversation with his Sheriff broke his concentration. “No, I don’t want him in a cell, much less his own apartment. He’s not fully dominated and it’s a security risk. I don’t understand it, but I need to maintain a tight hold over him even if I have to do it by manual override. He stays in the penthouse, with me.”

If The Sheriff understood that, he conveyed it only by grunting.

Damn it. Any chance to get out of LaCroix’s grasp was slipping away. Again, he struggled to protest, but it was useless. He couldn’t speak. His own body was refusing him. It felt traitorous and alien and there was no one to help him, no one looking for him, no Chidi ever again and absolutely nothing he could do. If he had a voice, he would probably be screaming, he realized. But instead, for the second time that day, he floated on a sea of bloody misery, gasping worse and worse by the second. As the jet went into final descent, its weightlessness hit him in the stomach and drove home a second wave of fear.

LaCroix was watching him, leaning over him, speaking to him, in much the same way one might speak to a broken printer shortly before kicking it. He lay a hand on Vincent’s chest to feel his shallow heartbeat and the very core of Vincent’s being rebelled against the way that it soothed him.

“Why are you not calm? You shouldn’t be feeling this way, I don’t understand why it’s not working…” He fixed LaCroix with the most hateful stare he could manage without moving his facial muscles. Why do you think, you useless fils de pute? He felt tears rolling silently down his cheeks. Fine. Good, even.

Again, LaCroix’s magnetic voice overpowered his will with a rush, even more hideously blissful than before. Perhaps it was more in harmony with him than the last had been... “Be calm, Marquis. I command you. Don’t be so afraid.”

And all the wild contents of his heart slipped away into a soft, empty, merciful void.

◃ Back ⚜ Next ▹(coming soon)

Image Sources: One | Two

[idkyetxoxo]

Davos Blackwood - Do I Wanna Know

Summary - In a heated confrontation between estranged lovers, unspoken truths and unresolved emotions surge to the surface, igniting jealousy and frustration. Within the commotion, raw desire and longing burst forth, driven by an intense, feverish infatuation.

Pairing - Davos Blackwood x reader

Warnings - Sexual content (smut!)

Word count - 2088

Masterlist for Davos • House of the Dragon General Masterlist

Do I wanna know if this feeling flows both ways? Sad to see you go, was sorta hoping that you'd stay. Baby, we both know that the nights were mainly made for saying things that you can't say tomorrow day.

"You can stay," I said, propping myself up on my elbow, watching as he began to get dressed, his back to me while he fastened the clasps on his clothes. 

The room felt colder with each piece of clothing he put on, and I couldn't shake the feeling of disappointment settling in my chest.

"No, I cannot," he replied matter-of-factly, his voice void of any hesitation. I sighed, rolling my eyes and stretching out again, feeling the familiar sting of rejection.

"Of course," I mumbled under my breath, not really intending for him to hear. But he did. He turned back to face me, a questioning look on his face, his brow furrowing in confusion.

"You always bolt like this," I added, my voice rising slightly. "Every time we share something, you get up and leave as if it meant nothing."

He sighed, running a hand through his hair, a gesture I knew all too well. "It's not that simple," he said, his voice sharper now, anger creeping in. "You know it's complicated."

"Complicated?" I scoffed, the word bitter on my tongue. I shook my head, more at myself than at him, wondering how I had once thought this would be different. 

"What's so complicated about wanting to stay?" I pressed on, my voice trembling slightly. "About wanting to see where this could go?"

He shifted uneasily, his gaze dropping to the floor as if the right words were hidden there. 

"I have my reasons," he said finally, but the words felt weak, lacking conviction.

"And I have mine," I shot back, frustration edging my voice. "But I'm here, willing to face whatever comes next. Can you say the same?"

The silence that followed was deafening. He looked at me, his eyes filled with a mixture of frustration and resolve. The weight of unspoken words hung heavily in the air, the things we couldn't say in the harsh light of day, the truths we only dared to whisper in the dark.

His expression hardened, and he took a deep breath, trying to regain his composure. "I wish I could stay," he said eventually, his voice cold and distant. "But I can't. This is how it has to be."

I nodded, trying to keep my emotions in check. 

"Then go," I said quietly, forcing myself to lie back down as if the act of turning away could shield me from the pain welling up inside. My heart ached with the finality of it all, a dull throb that seemed to echo in the empty spaces of my soul. "But don't expect me to wait forever."

He finished dressing quickly, his movements abrupt and filled with a sense of urgency.

As he approached the door, he hesitated for a moment, glancing back at me with a look of finality.

"Don't expect me to come back," he said, his voice carrying a final, unyielding edge.

The door clicked shut behind him, and I was left alone in the dim, silent room. The darkness seemed to close in around me, each breath heavy with the weight of unanswered questions and unresolved feelings. 

As I stared into the void, I couldn't shake the feeling that this might truly be the end, the final chapter of a story that had once seemed so full of promise.

─── ✦⋅♡⋅✦ ───

"It's my pleasure, Lord Tully," I said with a playful smile, reaching out to accept the delicate flower he offered. 

His fingers brushed lightly against my hand before he lifted the flower to place it gently in my hair, his fingers brushing against my temple. The touch was soft, almost reverent.

"Please, call me Oscar," he said, stepping back to admire the flower nestled in my hair.

"Does it look pretty?" I asked, tilting my head to the side. I knew he was watching, I knew he could hear, and I knew he was angry.

"Absolutely beautiful," Oscar murmured, his voice low and filled with genuine admiration. His eyes drifted from the flower to my face, a slow smile spreading across his lips.

I turned slightly, catching a glimpse of the figure lurking in the corner. His jaw was set, his fists clenched at his sides. For a man who vowed not to return, he surely held a great fascination with my whereabouts.

The figure in the shadows stepped forward, his presence commanding attention. 

"Is everything all right here?" Davos asked, his voice dripping with barely concealed anger. His gaze swept over Oscar as if trying to dissect the sincerity behind his smile.

"Yes, everything is fine," I said quickly, trying to diffuse the situation. "Oscar was just showing me this beautiful flower."

Davos's eyes flicked to Oscar, his expression hardening. "You should be careful, Lord Tully. Not everything is as it seems."

Oscar straightened, meeting Davos's gaze head-on. "I assure you, my intentions are nothing but honourable."

"Intentions can be misleading," Davos shot back, his eyes narrowing.

The room felt like a battlefield, with me standing in the middle, trying to hold the line.

"Thank you, Oscar," I said again, more firmly this time. "The flower is lovely."

Oscar nodded, his eyes lingering on me for a moment longer before he turned to leave. "I hope you enjoy the rest of your evening," he said, his voice tinged with regret.

As the door closed behind him, I turned sharply to face Davos, his eyes piercing through the dim light.

"Was that necessary?" I asked, my voice trembling with a mixture of anger and sadness.

His eyes flared with jealousy, the intensity of his gaze searing through me like a brand. "You're really going to entertain him right in front of me?" he demanded, his voice a low, dangerous growl.

I squared my shoulders, meeting his gaze with a defiant stare. "You have no right to be jealous. You walked out. You left me."

"I left because I had to," he shot back, his voice rising with an edge of defensiveness. "It wasn't a choice, it was something I needed to do. But that doesn't mean I stopped caring about you."

"Caring?" I scoffed, shaking my head in disbelief. "You think you can just walk out and then come back expecting everything to be the same? You made your choice, Davos. You decided to leave."

His expression softened for a fleeting moment, a glimmer of vulnerability breaking through his hardened exterior. But it was short-lived. 

"I've thought it through. I want you. I've always wanted you," he said, his voice heavy with earnestness. "I realize that now more than ever."

I looked at him, incredulous. "So you come crawling back now, expecting me to just forget everything?"

"Yes," he said, his voice raw and honest. "Because I can't stand the thought of losing you. I can't bear the idea of you moving on without me."

We stood there, staring at each other, the air thick with unresolved emotions and unspoken words. The tension between us was electric, and before I could process what was happening, we both lunged at each other.

Our lips met in a desperate, fiery kiss, years of longing and regret pouring out in that single, explosive moment. His hands wrapped around my waist, pulling me closer, as if afraid I might slip away. I responded with equal fervour, clutching his tunic, wanting to hold onto him and never let go.

The kiss was a mix of anger, passion, and deep-seated love, a testament to the complicated relationship we had always shared. Without another word, he lifted me onto the table behind us, his hands firm and possessive. 

Slowly, deliberately, he reached up and pulled the flower from my hair. With a determined expression, he crushed it in his hand, the petals falling to the floor like forgotten promises.

I couldn't help but laugh, the absurdity of the gesture breaking the tension. He grinned, a flash of his old self shining through, before capturing my lips in another searing kiss. His hands roamed my body, caressing and exploring, igniting a fire within me that I couldn't quench.

He pushed me back gently, laying me down on the table, his eyes never leaving mine. The cool surface beneath me contrasted with the heat of his touch, sending shivers down my spine. He leaned over me, his breath hot against my ear. 

"I've missed you," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.

"Show me," I whispered back, my hands finding their way to his belt, tugging it free.

In a frenzy of passion and urgency, we shed our clothes, the room filled with the sounds of our heavy breathing and whispered confessions. 

His focus was entirely on me, he trailed kisses down my neck, his hands exploring every inch of my body. 

"I'm going to make you feel things you've never felt before," he promised, his voice husky.

He paused, looking deeply into my eyes. "Do you trust me?" he asked, his tone serious.

I pretended to ponder his question, a playful smile tugging at my lips, before nodding. "Yes, I trust you," I replied.

His eyes lit up with a mixture of relief and excitement. He reached for a piece of cloth, tying it gently around my eyes. The darkness heightened my senses, every touch of his fingers on my skin more electrifying than the last.

With my vision obscured, I felt his lips return to my neck, his kisses trailing lower and lower. 

"I want you to feel everything," he whispered against my skin. His hands caressed my sides, moving with a tender yet firm pressure that made me gasp.

He explored every part of me with an intensity that made my body tremble. His lips and hands seemed to be everywhere at once, drawing soft moans and shivers from me. 

The anticipation, the uncertainty of his next move, made each sensation even more powerful.

As his lips travelled down my body, I felt a surge of pleasure unlike anything before. "Davos," I breathed, my voice shaky with need.

"Just feel," he whispered, his breath warm against my skin. His words were a command and a promise, a pledge to make me experience every moment fully.

He entered me slowly, savouring the moment. Without my sight, the sensation was magnified, every movement sending waves of pleasure through me. I arched my back, a gasp escaping my lips. 

The rhythm we found was driven by desperation and need, a physical manifestation of the emotional storm that had brought us to this point.

"Tell me what you want," he murmured, his lips brushing against my ear.

"I want you," I gasped, my body responding to his every touch. "I need you, Davos."

"Perfect," he murmured, increasing his speed. His mouth found my collarbone, sucking and nibbling softly at the skin. Each bite sent a shiver through me, the pleasure mingling with a sweet ache. His hands gripped my hips, pulling me closer.

The intensity built, each thrust bringing us closer to the edge. My senses were overwhelmed, every touch, every kiss, driving me higher. I could feel the tension coiling within me, a tight, burning need that threatened to consume me.

"Davos," I cried out, my voice a desperate plea.

"I'm here," he whispered, his voice steady and reassuring. "I've got you."

With a final, powerful thrust, we both surrendered to the climax, our cries intertwining in the heated space between us. The sensation surged through us like an unstoppable force, a wave of pleasure so intense it left us shivering and gasping for air.

As the waves of pleasure began to subside, he shifted slightly, his hands moving with a deliberate tenderness. Gently, he untied the cloth that had been concealing my eyes. The fabric slipped away, and I blinked as the room came into focus.

The sight of his face was almost overwhelming. His expression was a mix of relief, adoration, and a deep, unspoken emotion. He looked at me as though seeing me for the first time, his eyes drinking in the flushed, satisfied expression on my face. 

The connection between us felt electric, charged with the intensity of what we had just shared.

I reached up, my fingers brushing his face, feeling the warmth and firmness of his skin beneath my touch. 

"Did you feel everything?" he asked, his voice tinged with both curiosity and satisfaction.

I smiled, my eyes meeting his with a mix of joy and contentment. "Yes," I whispered, "every single moment."

Maybe I'm too busy being yours to fall for somebody new. Now, I've thought it through. Crawling back to you.

A/n - Tbh I don't love this one, it didn't really go how I had it planned out in my head but I hope someone out there does lmaoo.

[thisgirlnamedblusy]

hiya! was hoping I could request smut of G!p Donna body worshipping a ready with body image/confidence issues. Just Donna being absolutely obsessed with every part of reader, even the parts reader doesn’t like

Yessss!!!! Thank you for your request!!!! I hope you like it and sorry about the language mistakes!!!! :)))))

Turn the light on

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem! Reader

Warnings: G!P Donna, smut, Minors DNI, insecurities

Word count: 7,359

Summary: You think she never gonna like your body....

N/A: Sorry about the language mistakes!!! Requests are open!!! I'm waiting yours!!! I love you all!!! :))))

The kisses were soft, every time her lips landed on your skin it was like the best of caresses, the best of sensations.

Your body trembled in a subtle way while your head tried to concentrate on her caresses, on her soft hands that wanted to travel everywhere, to places where they never had the privilege of touching.

The smile, the courage you had that night was disappearing little by little, like a tire that deflates without you even realizing it until it is too late. The hand on the brunette's chest became firm when your arm tensed so the lady would not continue, so those mischievous hands would not lift your nightgown.

“What's wrong, tesoro?” Donna asked with a sad eye that already anticipated another of your rejections.

That realization was really what made you meditate on the two parts of your body: the part that wanted to continue, that cried out for you to leave any fear of that hot night behind. But there was also another part, one that couldn't stop imagining what would happen when that piece of clothing disappeared, when her hands ran over that body you were so ashamed of.

“Do you want me to stop?” she asked, with a sigh that struggled to be understanding. Maybe it was a while ago, now it was much harder for you to see the patience on her face.

However, you knew that fear could distort things, could form absurd paranoia in your mind. Donna said she would always wait for you, no matter how much.

You shook your head, not making eye contact, without the blush and fear on your face being noticed by the doll maker.

Wanting, not wanting... Your mind traveled between those two worlds but, that night, making an effort, you decided to let one of them prevail or, at least, you wanted to try to do so.

“No...” you whispered with shame making your words tremble. “But, but...”

The lady looked at you expectantly, kneeling on the bed, waiting to hear another of your excuses.

“(Y/N), calm down, I'm not in a hurry,” she said, bringing the hand that was previously traveling over your clothes to your cheek, almost tickling your skin.

Your mouth had become accustomed to smiling with her caresses and your cheeks burned shyly. How could you continue rejecting her? She was perfect.

“I know but... I, I want to do it,” you whispered, biting your lip, trying not to transmit that horrible fear with your gaze. “Mm, could you turn off the light?”

“The light? Perché?” she asked confused, blinking rapidly upon hearing your words.

You sighed, shaking your head, squeezing your eyes tightly and shrugging.

“I, I would feel more comfortable with the light off...” you explained, looking away.

Donna didn't answer. Luckily, she didn't ask any more questions, she didn't want to know the reason for your terrible embarrassment, so she obeyed your request, stretching out her arm and leaving that old bedroom completely dark.

“Okay...” she murmured, getting back on top of you, kissing you slowly, not in that messy and deep way. It was a kiss of comfort, a reassuring one. “Better?”

“Y-Yes,” you said, following the rhythm of those slow and short kisses, of those caresses that returned to your body, to your clothes.

You soon realized the light wasn't the problem.

You wondered if Donna could map you with just her hands, with her slender fingers, with her ability to move them. Maybe that's what she was doing; imagining what you would be like under that cloak of darkness, imagining with her caresses what the shape of your body would be like.

It was a thought that made you open your eyes and sink into what you thought was the safety of darkness. You didn't return the kisses. You simply prayed to the Black Gods that your body wouldn't be deciphered.

But time kept passing. Donna's kisses kept trying to distract you until, finally, her pale hand rested on your thigh and, as she raised it, your nightgown stayed on her wrist.

With a nervous gasp you brought your own hand to that spot, stopping the upward movement that threatened to strip you. You couldn't even stand it in the dark, you knew you couldn't, you knew that if Donna noticed your body, she would stop.

“Mm?” she murmured, confused, probably looking at you with a frown, with the look of disappointment that you imagined.

“On second thought... I think, I think I can't, Donna,” you whispered, your chest rising and falling quickly, with the heat of passion protesting loudly at your reluctance.

Another night, another failure.

“Fine,” she said, pulling away from you after one last quick kiss and a tired sigh.

“I'm sorry,” you apologized sincerely as you turned on the light, checking that no part of your body had been uncovered. “I'm so sorry.”

“Tesoro, don't apologize. It's okay, nothing's wrong,” Donna said, with a smile that you thought was fake.

The lady kissed you again, moving away definitively and sitting next to you, helping you to cover yourself with the sheets.

“I know it's not okay, I know I've failed you,” you commented with your mouth almost closed, playing with the fabric in your hands.

“You haven't failed me,” she said with a slightly hoarser voice, one voice similar to the one she had when you met her. “I just...” she said later, with a cautious tone. “I just want, I want to know what...”

“It's nothing important, I just...” you said quickly, clouding any shadow of doubt that could have been in the ventriloquist. “I'm not ready.”

“Mm,” the lady murmured, shaking her head, faking a smile.

“Donna,” you said, your voice sad, embarrassed, putting a hand on her shoulder. “Will you hug me?”

She looked at you slowly, with a radiant smile as she nodded, gesturing for you to come closer, to lean on her chest while her arms calmed your demons, while her lips rested tenderly on your hair.

“I'm sure you're sick of me,” you commented with a distracted look, playing with the fabric of her nightgown, trying to relax. She looked at you sharply, frowning.

“No, no, no, how can you say that? I'll never get sick of you,” she said in an almost pleading tone, lifting your chin so you would look at her, something you did before shifting on her body. “You're the love of my life, (Y/N)… You're everything to me.”

“No, not everything… I can't make love to you,” you whispered, camouflaging your voice on her chest.

The lady sighed, hugging you tighter. Her breathing was still agitated. The excitement could still be noticed in her movements. That made you feel even worse, making you sit up.

“I can, I can touch you if you want…” you said with a blush on your cheeks, with a shy voice broken by nervousness.

Donna looked at you with a frown, shaking her head.

“No, it's not necessary,” she said softly, studying each of your micro-expressions, each of the movements of your body. “It's not fair to you. Just, just tell me what worries you.”

“I don't know,” you lied, avoiding the tears from running down your cheeks.

“Is it because of my penis?” Donna asked, with that same understanding tone, always worried about the change the Black Gods made in her body.

“No, Donna,” you said with a more serious voice, moving her own demons away from that conversation, letting them not settle next to yours. “It's not that.”

“Okay…” she sighed, lying down more comfortably on the bed, removing you from her chest so your gaze wouldn't escape hers again. “Are you afraid of something? Are you afraid of the pain?”

“No, no, I… Well, the pain scares me but… It's not that, darling,” you said nervously, intimidated by that sudden interrogation.

That revealed Lady Beneviento's loss of patience. She never asked. She simply accepted your decision, until that day.

“So what is it?” the doll maker asked again, that time with a brusque tone, not asking, but demanding an answer, something that could explain your behavior.

You stepped back, unable to explain your true reasons, your true fears. Her voice sounded stern, demanding, nervous… Because of you.

“I need to cle-clear myself,” you said, suppressing a sob and getting up from the bed, walking towards the door.

“(Y/N), wait, I, I'm sorry,” the lady said, reaching out a hand to grab your wrist. “Don't go, amore mio… Forgive me.”

“I'll be right back just… I just need a moment,” you said, painfully removing her hand from your skin, feeling the cold that the lack of contact left on your body.

You walked through the halls of that gloomy basement, running your hand along the cracked walls, with your mind thinking many things and at the same time thinking nothing. That wandering walk took you to the bathroom, where the mirror was waiting to laugh at you.

With a sob, you turned on the sink, wetting your face with that ice-cold water, hoping that this way your mind could clear up.

Your gaze slowly went up to the mirror as you moved away, letting the reflection reveal more and more parts of your body. Without saying anything, sighing, you pulled up the fabric of your nightgown, looking at your figure, the figure that embarrassed you.

“No... She can't see me like this... I’m, I’m horrible,” you sobbed as you ran your hand over the marks on your skin, over the curves you were born with.

You were always a self-conscious girl. Since you were a child you suffered mockery for the marks on your body, for your freckles, for your scars... It might seem that they were simply children's stuff, that everything would pass with time but... You were wrong.

Adolescence only made it worse. Your body changed, deforming in a way you considered horrible. You weren't tall, you weren't especially thin, your body was horrible.

That shadow of your complexes led your soul to chain itself, to put on a protective shield that kept it away from suffering. Always with your books, with your drawings... You became a hermit without the right to be one, at least in a place like that.

That sinister village wasn't to blame for your problems. No one was to blame. The masses, the sermons, the Black Gods... None of that mattered to you especially, not even the Lords.

Your problems and your self-pity were always above your faith, above those prophecies of Mother Miranda. To live in a place like that never helped you, but you knew that if you lived somewhere else, nothing would change.

You were born that way, with that body, with those marks. Sometimes you wondered what kind of horrible thing your parents did, why they offended the Black Gods to punish them with such a horrible daughter.

Without friends, without beauty, without charisma, you became an inhabitant that no one paid attention to, a stain in a place full of light eyes, blonde hair and beautiful women, groups to which you didn’t belong at all.

In the midst of all that darkness, of boring masses you masterfully avoided by placing yourself in remote places (what nonsense, no one would notice you anyway) you achieved something you found hard to believe.

You caught someone's attention, not a villager, not a mocking child. There was something different about the usual sermons, some eyes you couldn't see, but you knew they were watching you.

That black dress, that sinister doll, that stoic pose and an almost ghostly presence...

You didn't know why, Donna Beneviento, youngest Lord, dangerous woman, mentally ill, the personification of fear for the village, had set her sights on you day after day, sermon after sermon.

Curiosity or simply a misinterpretation on your part, that's what you thought it was. No one could notice you, not even her, unless her sick mind wanted to torture you simply because she felt like it. It wouldn't be the first time it happened, you had heard rumors.

But rumors were always based on conversations where words danced at the whim of fearful villagers. When at last that dark lady came towards you with the church empty, you knew she wouldn't hurt you.

A hoarse voice came out from that black veil, a voice that cried out for your attention, that asked you why you couldn't get out of her head. It seemed impossible.

Luckily, she wasn't the only one. For a long time you had also been looking for her figure, you wondered what kind of woman she was.

Everything led to an incredible point, to a lot of walks, embarrassing dates with the lady in black. The smile began to replace your sad face and before you knew it, you were madly in love with her.

Not everything was light in that mansion. Donna Beneviento had problems, she was sick. She had developed an obsession with you that was difficult to understand. However, her jealousy, her clingy and almost dominant attitude didn’t make a dent in your feelings.

Yes, she was obsessed with you, not a day went by when her hands didn't touch your skin, when her lips didn't devour yours in silence. To her, you weren't just another girl, a piece of meat to have fun with. No, to her, you were much more than that.

The love she felt for you transcended her own appearance, the fear she felt when the veil disappeared from her face, when she had no choice but to be honest with you about her body.

You stayed by her side, you didn't run away. Yes, surely that obsession, that jealousy, that kind of adoration the lady in black had for you had a much more romantic explanation than a stupid mental illness.

You were that miracle, that person who saw far beyond appearances, the only person in the world who told her she was beautiful.

Everything was going well, perfect, even. Your life was a sea of ​​kisses and caresses. Living with her in the mansion, well, and also with Angie, was the best decision of your life.

But your relationship was missing something that Donna wanted and that you were unable to give her.

Luckily, every day was a restart, a new opportunity to start from scratch, to forget that awkward moment that Donna never, ever remembered to you.

But the passage of time was capable of distorting things, even that kind and understanding attitude of the lady in black.

“You're not talkative today,” Donna commented during lunch.

The day had started well, but that was because the lady in black was spending time with her dolls, oblivious to your own worries.

“Yes, well...” you sighed, playing with your food and looking down.

“Have I done something wrong?” the lady asked, drinking some wine.

“No,” you said, sighing again, with a horribly fake smile. “It’s nothing.”

“It's nothing…” she murmured, half-closing her eye. You regretted your mistake, trying to improve that sad smile. “What’s wrong?”

“Oh, well, thoughts, you know,” you said with an improved mood, trying by all means to erase that dark look of the lady.

“No, I don't know,” she said, with a serious, confused tone. “Tell me.”

You would have to invent something, and quickly.

“Well… I was, I was thinking about going to the village,” you said, with a sincere smile. She looked at you with that same intense gaze.

“What for?” she asked curiously, frowning. “Do you need something?”

“The truth is that I would like to buy some clothes,” you said calmer, relaxing your shoulders.

Her gaze didn’t change.

“Clothes…” Donna sighed, tilting her head. “I didn't know you were interested in clothes.”

“I'm not interested,” you said amused, pointing at your dress. “But I think that five years with the same dress are too many years, don't you think?”

“Mm, you want a dress,” she said, smiling tenderly to your relief, also noticing your used clothes. “What kind of dress?”

You shrugged, eating calmly, enjoying the dedication of the lady in black to please you with her recipes.

“Well… One, I guess,” you joked with a funny look. “One that suits me well…”

No, certainly talking about clothes wasn’t the best idea. Your complexes peeked into your mind, taking notice.

“Mm,” Donna said with a tender look, slowly getting up from the table and approaching you.

You lowered your head, blushing at that smile, at how lucky you were to always have her beauty by your side. She was so beautiful, so affectionate… So… Donna…

Her finger raised your chin while the lady studied your shy eyes. The smile didn’t leave her face.

“Everything suits well on a beautiful girl like you,” she murmured, leaning in to steal a sensual, tender kiss from you, one that tasted like wine.

You laughed shyly, moving away from her tender harassment while playing with her hands.

“Then wear a potato sack!” a shrill voice interrupted that romantic moment, that feeling in your mind of having freed yourself for a second from your fears. Angie.

“Angie…” Donna murmured, rolling her eye but with her hand still in yours. “Unlike (Y/N), you are better quiet.”

“That's a low blow, silly Donna,” the doll protested, approaching you, getting on the table and making an unpleasant noise when moving the plates and glasses.

“What did I tell you about getting on the table? Scendi!” the lady said, blinking furiously, pointing to the floor with her hand.

“I don't want to, I'm helping the fool to choose a dress,” Angie said, with a cocky voice, making you shake your head, rubbing your eyes.

“Cosa? Please leave her alone,” Donna said shaking her head as the doll played with your dress, pretending to study it thoroughly.

“Mm, yeah, a potato sack would be too fancy for a loser like you…” the puppet muttered, making you frown with an annoyed growl. “What do you say, Donna?”

“I say… Basta, Angie,” the lady hissed, crossing her arms. “Don’t make me control you.”

“You’re stupid and she’s stupid,” the doll protested, reluctantly obeying. “I just want to help…”

“Hey, I appreciate it,” you said amused, winking at her.

“You see, Donna? She appreciates my ideas,” Angie said, with a haughty pose, climbing onto your lap.

The lady snorted, shaking her head.

“Mm, let's see, let's see...” the puppet murmured, placing the dress on you under your amused gaze. “Oh, you could...” she said, lowering her voice, getting closer to your ear. “Oh, oh, oh, you could wear a ruffled dress.”

“Ruffles? No thanks, that's too cheesy,” you said amused, arching your eyebrows.

“Did you hear that, Donna? She says your dolls are cheesy…” Angie mocked, with an overly dramatic tone.

“Hey, I didn't say that,” you protested.

Donna's patience ran out, picking up the doll in her arms and leaving her on the floor in an unpleasant way.

“That's enough, get out,” she said in a threatening voice, pointing her finger towards the hallway.

“You're too tense, silly Donna. Are you having too much testicular pressure?”

“Basta! Porca miseria, taci, taci! Get out, get out, get out!” the lady shrieked furiously, offended and humiliated by that insinuation, which, obviously, also involved you.

That abrupt attitude with her only companion made you squirm in your chair, guilt stalking you again. You were to blame for that tension. You were to blame for the desire to have you, to possess you, being extended more and more in time.

“I-I'm sorry,” you murmured nervously as the doll ran away, laughing loudly.

“No…” Donna said, turning around and shaking her head, resting her hands on your shoulders. “No, tesoro, you haven't done anything wrong.”

“I… I…” you stammered, biting your lip to suppress an embarrassed sob. “Donna, I…”

“Shh, don't worry, everything is fine. You know how she is like, don't pay attention to her,” the lady said softly, gesturing to you with her hand. “Get up, amore mio, I want to look at you.”

With the help of her hand, you stood up while Donna looked at your clothes, the fabric that covered your sleeves, the folds of your dress…

“Mm…” she murmured, relaxing that furious expression due to the doll's teasing. “Yes, okay…”

“What…? What are you doing?” you asked curiously, trying to forget that awkward moment.

She smiled, apparently calmer, putting a hand around your waist, sighing and hugging you from behind, placing her lips on your neck.

“I won't allow la mia ragazza to spend a single lei on a horrible dress…” she whispered affectionately, causing you to laugh due to the tickling of her lips. “I'll make you one.”

“Oh…” you gasped with a smile, closing your eyes to enjoy her hug, joining your hands to hers, trying, involuntarily, that they didn't dare to run around your body. “No, it's not necessary.”

“Mm, of course, bellisima…” she said, turning you around quickly and capturing your lips again. “My beautiful girl has to wear a beautiful dress…”

“Donna…” you said with a tender voice, mercilessly seduced by her continuous displays of affection, by her caresses, by her melodic voice.

Yes, she was definitely perfect. You felt stupid, stupid for not being able to give her what she wanted, to let her love you, to make you hers as she would like. You would have to leave your demons aside, remove sadness and fear from your life if you wanted to please her.

“I will make you a dress worthy of a true lady,” she whispered, swinging with you, with a seductive sparkle in her eye. “No, no, worthy of a goddess.”

“I hope Mother Miranda didn't hear you,” you joked, causing that tender laugh from the lady in black again, causing her lips to rest on yours in a quick, but terribly romantic way.

“Let her hear me… She will never be as lucky as me. I have you, principessa…”she murmured, leaving you, pushing her tempting body away

You, slowly, reached out your hand to grab hers, so she wouldn't move away any further.

“Donna…”you whispered, your voice nervous but determined, even if it was just for a moment. “I want, I want to try again… Tonight.”

“Are you sure?” Donna asked, running the back of her hand over your cheek as you nodded. “There's no hurry. Angie just talks nonsense, don't take it seriously, mm?”

“It's not because of Angie I… I want, I want to do it,” you said, unable to keep your gaze, something Donna prevented by lifting your chin again.

“Va bene… But first, tesoro, let's finish eating,” she said, kissing you quickly and finally moving away from you, pointing to your chair for you to sit down again.

No matter how little courage you had, it quickly vanished like on all those previous occasions. Not even the safe cover of darkness prevented your body from shaking when her hands ran over it.

Your mind wandered through horrible thoughts, through the fear you had that the lady would notice your body, that way you were born and that made you so self-conscious.

She didn't give it any importance. It was almost as if she had already assumed that making love to you was an impossible task.

You didn't want her to think that way, you didn't even want to think that way yourself, but you couldn't help it.

Day after day, your body asked you for love, but your mind prevented it. Not even your suggestion of keeping your clothes on was a good idea.

Donna didn't ask you, she stopped asking you. Simply, desperate, she accepted all your proposals without complaining but, with time, her attitude was increasingly tired, her sighs were increasingly louder.

You didn't know how long you could last like this, how long the lady in black could put up with you. The fear of losing you was no longer just hers, you also were afraid of Donna abandoning you, of Donna stopping loving you.

At that moment you understood her possessiveness, her jealousy. Just imagining a life without her was horrible and if it was that horrible for you, it was much worse for her.

You sighed during a quiet afternoon, finishing reading while the lady in black worked on something at her desk. Your gaze went to hers, which seemed concentrated. Your eyes shone with her distracted beauty, with each of her movements.

You simply couldn’t understand yourself.

You loved her more than anything but… Because of your stupid complexes, you would end up losing her.

As you thought about all those horrible possibilities, your eyes met and Donna did what she did best, giving you one of her radiant smiles, resting her head on her hand as if she were contemplating something beautiful, something you refused to be aware of.

“Do you see anything you like, tesoro?” she asked softly, with a look that expressed all your worries were absurd.

“Ugh, here we go again… Bye, sticky fools” Angie said, getting off the couch where she was reading with you and walking away from the living room.

“Yes,” you answered, ignoring the doll. “You.”

Donna laughed again, shaking her head and raising her hand towards you.

“Come here,” she whispered tenderly.

You smiled back, getting up from the couch and walking towards the desk, holding out your hand for the lady to take in an elegant way.

“Sit here with me, I want to show you something,” Donna whispered, kissing your shy hand and pulling you to sit on her lap, settling into her favorite position, with your body on hers in an innocent way.

The lady in black pulled out an old magazine, one that seemed to be about fashion, or dresses, or something similar. Little by little she turned each page, where really beautiful girls posed in all kinds of dresses.

You stirred at the sight of those models, at the sight of that beauty that you could never have. Donna kissed your cheek and placed your hair lovingly, pointing with her finger at one of those photographs.

“What do you think of this one, tesoro? Do you like it?” she asked in a whisper, attentive to your gestures.

You leaned down to pick up that magazine, letting Donna accommodate you better on her lap.

“Oh… You mean, you mean the dress, right?” you joked without wanting to do it, running your hand over that beautiful woman, over that perfect body.

The lady laughed amused, frowning.

“Of course,” she whispered unaware of your little joke, resting her head on your shoulder. “I think that color will suit you very much, see? These details match your eyes.”

“Um, yes, well…” you murmured unsure. “I don't think that one will fit me well, it's too tight.”

The doll maker nodded, turning the page without asking any more questions.

“Well, then… What do you say about this one? I can change the design so it doesn't have… Those, those ruffles you hate,” she joked in a calm voice. “I think that one makes a very pretty figure.”

You looked at that woman posing, a tall, blonde woman, who seemed to be made for that dress. You could never be her. You could never have the pretty figure Donna said. No dress would achieve that.

“I don't know, Donna...” you murmured, starting to get stressed for no reason, just for the simple fact that you didn't look anything like those models.

“Mm, okay, don't worry, I'm sure we'll find one you like,” she said, with a slightly more serious look, turning the page again.

Reject after refusal, you rejected each of her proposals, making her features harden little by little.

“Look, I think this one is perfect,” the lady said, pointing to the beautiful girl on the last page. “This neckline would look great on you.”

You shook your head, increasingly nervous.

“Mm, okay…” Donna sighed, running a hand through her hair, but without letting you go. “I'll ask the Duke for more magazines, there has to be a dress you like…”

“No,” you said nervously, looking away. “It's not necessary.”

“Well, I can, I can try to make one with my own design, but I'm not a dressmaker. It would be very difficult for me to not make you look like a porcelain doll,” Donna said, amused, moving you on her lap.

“I wish I was,” you murmured in a somber voice. Even those dolls had better bodies than you, or so you thought.

“Hey, come on, why you say that?” she asked, moving your face so you could look at her.

You shook your head, moving away from her caresses and getting off her lap.

“Stop pretending, Donna. I'm never going to be like one of those models, no dress you make could fit me well,” you said nervously, overwhelmed, about to explode.

“But, but, tesoro…” the lady said, frowning, with a look of surprise. “Di che cosa stai parlando?”

“I don't want a dress, I don't need one, I don't want…” you stammered running a hand over your forehead. “I don't want… For you to realize how horrible I am and…”

“(Y/N), tell me, tell me what's wrong, why do you say such a nonsense?” she asked again, getting up from her desk and reaching out her hands to take yours, a gesture you rejected with a furious gasp.

“Forget it! Okay? I'm not like them. I never will be, so you better stop trying to make me look like them with those stupid dresses. I'm horrible!” you screamed nervously, turning around to run away.

“(Y/N), please, come here, wait!” Donna shouted as you ran towards the elevator, cowardly fleeing.

You ignored her call, going down to the basement, running through its hallways, entering the bedroom and throwing yourself on the bed, crying inconsolably.

You couldn't stand it anymore, you couldn't stand the silent shame you felt for your body. Your mind had exploded. You were no longer able to accept it, to control your anger, to prevent the demons of your low self-esteem from overshadowing your rational thinking.

After a time that you couldn't determine, the sound of heels interrupted your moans and the weight of the brunette sank the bed while a warm hand rested on your back.

“Go away,” you sobbed. “Leave me alone.”

“I will never let you cry alone, tesoro, never,” Donna murmured, sighing. “I can't stand to see you cry, amore mio…”

“Well, leave then,” you said abruptly, moving so the contact would disappear.

“Please... Tell me, tell me what's wrong, I beg you, you’re breaking my heart, (Y/N)…” she whispered, moving your body to get up, grabbing you by the shoulders and wiping away your tears. “Don't cry, please…”

“I can't take it anymore, Donna…” you sobbed, fighting back your tears. “It's, it's too much…”

“What's too much? Please, I want to help you…” she sighed, keeping her hand on your cheek. “Day after day I see your eyes begging for help but I’m unable to read them… Grant me the grace of your words. Grant me the precious gift of those thoughts that are tormenting you…”

“You are always so poetic…” you said with a smile, shaking your head.

She smiled back, without taking her eye off yours, comforting you with her tender gaze.

“Poetry is the word of the Gods…” she whispered romantically. “You are my Goddess, (Y/N)…”

“Don't talk nonsense, I’m not a Goddess,” you said with a sadder tone, turning your face away from her caresses. “I’m nothing like that, I… You don't understand…”

“No, of course I don't understand, tesoro,” she said, getting a little closer to you. “Explain it to me, I’m begging you…”

“Fuck… Do you know… Do you know why I'm wearing this horrible dress? Why don't I let you see me naked? Why don't I want to…? Why can't I make love to you?” you asked embarrassed, correcting your words.

Donna simply shook her head.

“Because of this,” you said, getting up furiously, taking advantage of that furious outburst to untie the laces of your dress and let it fall at your feet.

The lady stood up nervously, looking at you dazed, looking in detail at your half-naked body with her mouth open, surprised.

“(Y/N)… You are…” she murmured, approaching slowly, as if she were hypnotized.

“Don't come closer, Donna,” you said, hissing, kicking the floor. “You see? You don't have to say it. I don't want to hear it. My body is horrible, it's, it's full of marks and freckles and... No, it's not pretty, it's not proportionate...”

The ventriloquist stopped dead, shaking her head, without taking her eye off your flawed body.

“It's... It's a burden I've had for too long... I'm not worthy of your love, of your desire... You'll never, ever be able to love a body like mine... Never...” you murmured, sobbing again, trembling with shame.

“Wait a minute...” she murmured, making a gesture with her hand, looking down with a frown, as if she had just remembered something important. “Oh, so... Were you turning off the light because you were ashamed of your body?” she asked in a different, harsher tone.

You, embarrassed, nodded, lowering your head and clenching your fists tightly.

“Really? Oh, wow, I…” Donna said, with a smile that stuck in your heart, laughing nervously but strangely relieved, something that made you groan.

“Hey! Don’t laugh at me!” you shrieked furiously, taking the brunette’s laughter as a mockery.

“I’m not laughing at you,” she said, sighing in relief, with that mocking smile decorating her face as she approached. “Oh, tesoro… I thought you turned off the light so you wouldn’t see my… My face,” she said, her smile disappearing little by little.

“What? No,” you said, shaking your head, with the same confused expression.

“It’s, it’s a relief,” she said, smiling again.

You shook your head in disbelief, bending down to pick up the dress, something Donna prevented with a hand on your wrist, slowly raising your body.

“Amore mio… You're so stupid…” she said with a tender smile, cupping your face in her hands. “Your body is beautiful…”

“Yeah, come on, now lie to me,” you said distrustfully, fleeing from her caresses again. “Have you seen me well? Look at that waist, at that horrible freckles…”

“Horrible?” she asked, running a hand over your marked collarbone, grabbing your waist with the other one. “I think they're cute…”

“Come on, don't pretend that…” you said nervously, letting the lady in black explore your flawed skin for the first time, letting her fingers sink into your scars. “Oh, no, don't touch me there, it's horrible.”

“Mm,” Donna murmured, with a cold look, taking your hand and bringing it to her own scar. “Do you think this is horrible, (Y/N)?”

“No,” you said sincerely, strangely comfortable with her caresses. “But, but your body, your body is perfect and mine…”

“Yours isn't perfect,” the lady said, her voice low and whispering, pulling you a little closer to her, resting her warm hand on your back. “Because there's no word that describes something beyond perfection, tesoro… You're beautiful… Your body is beautiful…”

“Don't tell me that…” you whispered confused, blushing at her compliments. “I know, I know you say that to make me feel good.”

“Mm, and what happens when you tell me that I'm beautiful? Do you do it to make me feel good too?” she asked without raising her voice, without making you feel uncomfortable.

“N-No… I, I really think you're beautiful,” you murmured, looking away, trembling every time her fingers ran over your curves, those places you hated.

Donna smiled, leaning down to kiss you tenderly, to sigh on your lips while her hands continued their particular exploration, caressing your back, running a finger along your spine, causing you hundreds of shivers.

“Perfetta…” she whispered among her kisses, her lips too busy to care if you understood her.

You let yourself go, you let her skin brush against yours, her body embrace yours, her perfection and your imperfection to mix.

“Donna, wait,” you said, interrupting her deep kisses.

You moved away, still embarrassed by that eye that didn't want to leave your figure and you moved your ankle, taking a breath.

Your hands traveled nervously to the clasp of your bra, which gave way despite the trembling, falling next to that dress, the one that hid your greatest fear. The lady in black took a deep breath, trying to be kind, trying not to stare at your breasts in a shameless way.

She couldn't help it, her gaze fell on them, her breathing became more agitated as her hands reached out to you again, passing over your chest without touching those erotic parts, surrounding them in a respectful way while her lips slowly traveled down your neck.

“I'm not done,” you said, interrupting, moving away from those hot kisses again.

With less fear at seeing her gaze enraptured by your beauty, you bent down getting rid of the last piece of clothing you had left, exposing yourself to the woman you loved as you never thought you would dare.

“Every piece of clothing you take off is a gift for my gaze...” she whispered, with a voice taken by nerves, by the sincere love that you didn't believe she felt. “You are amazing, amore mio…”

“Come on…” you joked, feeling comfortable with her eye wandering over your imperfection, her hands brushing your hips, her fingers tickling your sensitive, uneven skin. “You are so tender, Donna… Too much for me to keep resisting…”

“Mm, don't resist then,” the lady said softly, pulling your waist, taking you back to the pleasure of her wet, warm kisses, passing that heat through every inch of your skin. “Wait, (Y/N),” she interrupted, moving away in the same way as you. “I think this is unfair.”

“Oh, well...” you said nervously, frustrated at having lost the burning contact that encouraged you to fulfill your lustful desires.

She smiled, but didn't say anything. Donna brought her hands to the buttons of her dress, undoing them little by little, also nervous. Your gaze remained fixed on the pale skin of her body as the top disappeared.

If you were a Goddess you didn't know what she was... Was there anything superior to a Goddess?

Her bra also fell under her trembling hands and her black skirt soon joined the pile of clothes. The lady in black hesitated before lowering her last garment, before letting you see that part of her body that also embarrassed her, but finally, she did it, looking away.

“Donna…” you sighed, involuntarily approaching her naked body, letting your hands travel to her skin, your eyes focusing on every detail of that, soft, pale, hot body… “You are so beautiful…”

“No, no… Not as much as you…” she said, visibly nervous, especially because her body betrayed her desire, something that, unfortunately for her, she could no longer hide. “Come, I want to kiss you.”

You obeyed, walking, floating towards her, letting your two bodies join naked, your skin delighting in the contact.

They were different kisses, deeper ones. Your hands also lost their fear. Hers dared to conquer your breasts, the lower part of your back. Her lips left yours, traveling down your neck, down your freckled collarbone.

“Donna…” you gasped again, surprised by that adoration, by that delicacy with which her fingers ran over your flaws, with which her lips kissed every part you hated, always carefully, as if the mere fact of touching your scars or your curves was something almost forbidden, a divine privilege.

Your hands also ran over her skin, enjoying the softness that yours didn’t have, that paleness, that shine that made you doubt if Donna Beneviento was human, if that beauty was possible in a place like that.

“Make love to me, please…” you whispered, with your voice broken by the growing lust, by the rubbing of your bodies, the subtle caresses of her erection on your belly.

Nothing mattered anymore, just her, just you, just two poor, self-conscious souls who blindly believed in a God that didn't exist, in a supernatural entity that said you were both beautiful.

“Please…” she whispered, walking slowly until you were lying on the bed, lowering her lips down your chest, kissing your belly, scratching the skin of your legs with her nails, claiming that as her territory, claiming you.

Your hips met with hers. Your waist was grabbed by those faithful hands. Your sides were adored by her caresses, by her kisses…

Everything you hated was ambrosia to her, it was addictive to her lips, to her fingers, to her own body that wanted to join yours, that moved to feel its burning skin on yours, so the heat between them would stop being unbearable.

Donna slowly pulled away, with her hand always on your body, not wanting to leave you, looking at you in such a tender way that it seemed impossible. Her sincere smile calmed your nerves. Nothing could make you back down, nothing.

“Ti amo…” she whispered, before going down to your lips again, positioning her body so her erection rubbed against your wetness, against that sensitive part of your body.

“Oh, Donna…” you whispered, hugging her gratefully, almost sobbing from the emotion of feeling desired. You were stupid, but you wouldn't be stupid anymore, never again. “Please… I need you…”

She nodded slowly, caressing your cheek before moving to guide the tip towards your entrance and moving slowly, entering you delicately.

You squirmed due to the sensation, an annoying, painful sensation, but one you couldn't avoid.

Your body stretched slowly, with time, without rushing while Donna entered you completely with a subtle moan, always relieving that discomfort with her caresses, with whispers that passion and nerves didn't allow you to understand.

“Amore mio…” she whispered, letting you get used to it gently, enduring the pleasure of your walls tightening around her. “Are you better? Can I move?”

You, impressed by the change in your body, by losing that pain and immediately turning it into an intense pleasure, nodded closing your eyes, running your hands along her legs.

Her hips began to move slowly but rhythmically, in a way in which you were able to feel her erection sliding along your walls, making its way, soaking in the moisture of your long-repressed desire.

Soft moans, sighs, glances… That joined the dance of your hips, of your bodies fused erotically. Kisses landed on your lips from time to time, your body began to move, to lose its shyness.

The pleasure was outrageously overwhelming. Your hands lost their composure, pulling on her hair, grabbing her breasts, wanting to add that contact, that rubbing to the pleasure of her thrusts.

The slow rhythm disappeared when her hands rested on either side of your head. The lust was already unbearable and her hips began to lose control little by little, as did yours.

“Donna, Donna, I think, I think…” you stammered, noticing that your body was beginning to tense, that your mind was completely free, that it was only able to process the pleasure you felt, one that was getting stronger and stronger.

“Ah!” you screamed when your back tensed, when your walls squeezed her shaft abruptly, trapping her inside of you, preventing her from coming out of your orgasm.

Those new, involuntary movements were enough for Donna to fight against your body, to allow her to maintain that increasingly furious rhythm until, shortly after your screams echoed off the walls of the room, she released herself with a tremendously seductive moan.

Her seed coursed through your wetness, through your walls agitated by your own release. You were already her, you always were, but there was no doubt now.

“Oh, amore mio…” the lady sighed, kissing you erratically, letting her body fall on yours, her hands go crazy in your hair.

“Donna…” you sighed, laughing amused by her tender attitude. “Do… Do you really like my body?” you asked, with insecurity slightly peeking in your mind.

“I love everything about you…”

[minus-plus-zer0]

When You’re Depressed

♡ Genre: Hurt/comfort ♡ Pairing: Bakugou x Reader

Today was exhausting. People were exhausting. For the entire day, you couldn’t wait to get home and do absolutely nothing for an indeterminate amount of hours.

Once you were home, you gunned it straight to your bedroom without talking to anyone. Your classmates looked at you funny as you passed them, but your mind only focused on getting to your bed so you could rest. You wanted to replenish your energy, which never seemed to fill entirely.

In your dark bedroom, you hugged your cute plushie tight against your chest. Your entire body felt like it weighed an extra fifty pounds. You couldn't see an easy way out of this predicament.

Your bedroom door unlocked and then opened. Light briefly flooded into your room before it closed. Now the only light that entered was from the sunset outside.

"Oi," Bakugou said. "What's gotten into ya?"

Bakugou walked over and sat on the side of your bed. You flipped over, facing away from him. You knew it was rude, but you couldn't really bring yourself to deal with anyone today. You didn't want him to see you like this.

Bakugou gave you some company regardless.

"You wanna talk?" Bakugou asked.

"...No," you said. "Don't feel like it. Don't feel like doing anything today."

There was a brief pause.

"...You wanna cuddle, then?"

There was that question again. Ever since you said yes the first time to cuddling, Bakugou just kept asking for your permission more and more often, like you broke an imaginary dam and whatever 'feelings' Bakugou previously held back came flooding in. You half-expected this question again the moment he entered the room.

You weren't dating, but boy did the thought cross your mind time and time again. Like just now. Your feelings for your best friend were one of the few lights in the darkness.

Your hold on your pillow became a death-grip. "Um... Yes, please."

Wordlessly, Bakugou got underneath the blanket and then lied down on the bed besides you, spooning your from behind. You both heard and felt him sigh in relief as he took you into his arms. His heart was racing against your back, just like the other times you cuddled, and you wondered if he knew you could feel it.

You always liked how you two cuddled. It blurred the lines of friendship between you two in a good way. The best way. You both trusted one another enough to hold each other like this, like you were something he'd always wanna keep close when he pushed everyone away. Now due to your depression, you were the one pushing others away and he had to be the positivity in your life that you had always been to him.

He tucked your body further into his. "Better?"

You smiled brightly in the darkness, knowing he couldn't see. "Better."

"Why are you so fucking sad for anyways?" Bakugou asked, his voice right against your neck.

"I... um..." It was hard to concentrate with him so close. "I felt so weak today. I didn't know if I could do everything that I needed to do. I felt hopeless. I don't think I can take much more of this."

"I know how you feel," Bakugou said, his head digging into your hair. "I'm the fucking same when I screw up. But it's not hopeless. And you're not weak. You're stronger than me in some ways. I'll always be there for you if you need anything. How's that sound?"

You hid your face into your plushie. "It sounds really, really good."

"Good," he said. You could feel his smirk against your neck. "You seem happier already. You can continue complaining to me about any stupid shit that's bothering ya, if ya want." He poked your cheek. "Or we can just stay here forever."

"Forever?!"

"I mean, 'until whenever'!" Bakugou's entire body tensed. "That's what I said!"

You slowly flipped around to face him and caught him looking flustered as all hell.

"...What if I wanna stay forever?" you asked.

Bakugou's eyes widened in realization. He froze.

Then, he looked at you so softly.

"We can do that too."

His hand sifted through the back of you hair, pulling your forehead against his. His eyes flickered down to your lips briefly, but your eyes were already closing to get some sleep. Before you drifted off into a nap, you felt Bakugou's arms tighten around you.

You didn't know how long 'forever' was, but Bakugou believed 'forever' was simply however long you allowed him to be there with you.

And maybe one day, he'd confess his true feelings to you.

(This helped me finally get out of a writer's block)

[sebastianswallows]

Nobody's Darling — 5. The Morning

— PAIRING: Benny Cross x F!Reader

— SYNOPSIS: Benny comes across a girl walking alone in the middle of nowhere and offers her a ride to the nearest town. They stop at a motel.

— WARNINGS: just fluff

— WORDCOUNT: 2.3k

— TAGGING: @confessionbrain-writings @fleurdemers

— A/N: Continuation of Part 4.

She was sleeping. Then at one point she became aware that she was sleeping. Her body was pleasantly sore, her feet a little swollen but cooled by the morning air that slipped into the room, and beneath her was the softest, warmest blanket — only, as she slowly woke she realised it wasn’t a blanket. Her eyes opened to the bleary morning light and the sight of honeyed flesh. Oh… She wanted to get up but her back still ached, and as soon as she braced her arm against the mattress she remembered why she’d opted to sleep on top of Benny instead. The springs squeaked painfully loud.

“Mmmmh… G’mornin’,” he muttered, breathing in and stretching his long body.

“Did I wake you up? Sorry,” she muttered, blushing as the events of last night came back to her.

“No, don’t worry,” he sighed, wrapping an arm more around her shoulder and pulling her back down on top of him. “Sleep well?”

“I think so…”

Benny looked down at her, his eyes quickly losing the haziness of sleep and finally gaining some focus. “You alright?” he asked, his voice sounding fearful of the answer.

“Yeah… Yeah.”

He said nothing, instead merely rubbing his thumb against her shoulder in a way meant to soothe her — or perhaps himself. The timid chirping of the birds outside and the gusts of wind were a stark backdrop to how sad he seemed.

She almost felt sorry for him. He’d been so happy when they went to sleep together, or if not happy… something. It was difficult to remember now between the high waves of her pleasure crashing down, distorting memories, sensations, time itself. Perhaps he thought she’d be the same person when she woke up as the one he knew last night, or maybe he’d forgotten who he invited to his bed, or maybe… Maybe it was useless to wonder what he thought. And she certainly didn’t have the courage to ask in what manner precisely she’d disappointed him in the few minutes they were both awake.

“I should, erm, get up,” she said.

“Yeah. Sure.”

She looked down at the two of them, covered in the meagre blanket grey with stains, and underneath she felt his naked body moving along hers. Strong legs, narrow hips, the softness of his muscled arm behind her… She lay cradled in his embrace and cuddling with him was like sleeping with a radiator. It made her want to fall asleep all over again, and Benny certainly made no move to leave. She blushed and didn’t know whether to get up quickly or take the time to find something first to cover herself with, but as her body slowly woke and caught up with her mind she realised she didn’t really want to go. She felt comfortable and safe, and the thought of returning to her white and cold apartment, to her boring job filled with meaningless little problems every day, and urgent issues, and measly internal politics, made her sick to her stomach. Benny heard her sigh and laid his broad palm flat over her shoulder, and then she felt him nuzzle his face into her hair.

“You sure you’re ok?” he asked. He must’ve thought she was upset with him…

“I just don’t feel…”

“How?”

“Like leaving.”

She could tell his body stilled as he thought through what she said. He must’ve doubted her, or himself, because it took a while for him to speak again.

“Want me to go to your room and fetch your clothes?”

“No, it’s not that. I mean, maybe you should,” she chuckled, “but that’s not what I meant.”

“Feeling real’ comfy in this dusty ol’ motel room, are you?” he chuckled.

“Hmm… no. It’s horrible,” she laughed. “It’s probably the worst bed I’ve ever slept in… And the best.”

He turned his head to look at her, to catch her eyes and figure out what she meant, but she only buried her face deeper into his chest.

“Is that right…?” he asked.

“It is,” she mumbled.

“You mean it?” he asked after a few moments. “You really mean it, doll?”

She nodded, her damp cheek rubbing against his skin. It was as if his body melted, covering hers even more, and then he pressed a kiss to the crown of her head and the only thing she could do was wrap her arms more tightly around his waist, and curl her leg around his, and let her body sink into the warmth he made for her beneath those threadbare sheets.

Thoughts kept coming back about what happened the night before and how it made her feel. How it shattered her to her core — not necessarily to have a man there with her, naked, with her exposed and vulnerable beneath a bulk of sweaty skin and bulging muscles, but to be with someone who looked at her and really saw her, and liked every little part, even those she’d never considered showing. And then he kissed her, and loved her, and held her, and loved her still in the morning after the flush of passion had long passed.

Benny, meanwhile, kept thinking of what she said. He’d fully expected her to get up and leave as quickly and discretely as possible like he was some mangy mutt she might catch fleas from. He didn’t like it, but he’d expected it, and already had prepared a little corner of his heart to bury that night in. And then she went and turned everything upside down and now he had to hold himself back from going a mile too far and asking her to stay with him forever. She was timid, sure, just like he could be sometimes, but he too easily mistook that for disdain and it didn’t help that she kept hiding her face away from him when he most wanted to see it, to read in her eyes what it was she really thought.

He gently grabbed her chin and eased her face upwards. Her forehead was still a little damp with sweat, her lashes matted, and her cheeks were framed by the wild mane of her hair, but those were the same eyes that had looked at him last night with wonder and with love. He bent to press his lips against hers in a little kiss.

“Want me to fetch you breakfast?” he asked, partly to distract himself from the speed his thoughts were driving at. “I’ll go downstairs and get something…”

“Won’t you eat breakfast too?”

“Ah, I’m… not hungry,” he said, his elbows already braced against the bed as he heaved himself up. “Not really used to it.”

“You mean you don’t — Of course you don’t have breakfast,” she sighed, shaking her head like a disapproving mother. “Well, you’re having it today.”

He rolled his eyes but would’ve lied if he said it didn’t make something warm and soft flutter in his stomach.

“I’ll be right back,” he said as he pressed another kiss to her temple, and then he hopped off the bed with more energy than he usually had at that hour.

She curled up and held the pillow to her chest, partly to cover herself, partly to have his warmth and scent about her a little longer, and looked over her shoulder as he bent for his briefs and socks and the rest of his clothes. Her face heated up again as she traced the length and breadth of his back, the muscles bulging in his thighs, and the soft golden hairs sprinkled across that smooth young skin. When her gaze caught the blushing bulge of his sac hanging soft and silky beneath his sculpted ass she buried her face into the sweet-smelling pillow with a moan.

“Damn, it’s eight thirty-five, can you believe it?” he said as he put his watch back on.

“It’s… what!? Oh no! I have work at nine! I…” She’d never make it home and to the office in time.

Benny had just finished looping his belt around, but that sad and worried look was back in his eyes. “Want me to take you back?” he quietly asked.

She held the blanket around her as she sat up in the bed, one hand trying distractedly to untangle her ruffled hair. She looked at him, standing there all still and quiet, waiting for her, then around them at the room as if she could find an answer among the crooked furniture, the sunken cushions of the armchair, the tilted framed photos on the wall, the bathroom door that wouldn’t close, all of it bathed in an uneven light with the carefree song of birds and lazy traffic seeping from outside. It was, in every way, a beautiful morning.

“No,” she said at last, her voice sounding calmer than it should have.

She looked up at Benny, his fingers slowly fiddling with his white tank top, looking in many ways like a little boy waiting to be kicked out of his parents’ bedroom. She couldn’t place what she felt at the sight of him, this mix of strength and frailty. She wanted to protect him and get lost in his strong arms again, and the more she thought about both options the more distant the prospect of going back to work became.

“No, let’s have breakfast,” she said with a faint smile.

He eyed her warily as if he didn’t expect this change of priorities to last, but he put on the tank top and got his wallet before she could change her mind.

She didn’t even want to think of how it must’ve looked downstairs when he got there half-dressed to fetch breakfast for two, but as she buried her face in the pillow again the shame bloomed into something sweet at the pit of her tummy. She eventually managed to roll out of bed and dress herself in yesterday’s slip, by now wrinkled and stained, but the brief reflections she caught of herself in the dark glass of the windows made her feel more sexy than ever.

“I’m back, darlin’,” he said as he walked through the door backwards, an old silver plate in his arms. “A full gourmet breakfast.”

“Anything is fine,” she chuckled as she took it from his arms to lay it on the bed. “I’m not fussy.”

“Yeah, well, you deserve to be.”

Once her arms were free, she got up on her tiptoes and wrapped him in a loose embrace. Out of some primordial instinct, he had his arms around her waist that very second and leaned down for a kiss. His lips were sweet and salty with an aftertaste of yesterday’s cigarettes and she couldn’t think of anything that tasted better. His arm around her waist tightened, pulling her up a little, while the other went up to cup her head, fingers tangling in the hair she’d barely managed to tame.

“You sure you want to stay?” he warmly asked, and this time he seemed less scared of what her answer would be.

“Yeah,” she smiled.

“What about your work?”

“If they fire me for missing one day, well…”

“Yeah, screw ‘em.”

“Exactly.”

“So what do you wanna do today, then?”

She looked up into his eyes, and her first instinct was to wonder what he thought. What did he want to do? What did he usually do? And what answer did he expect when he —

“Don’t worry ‘bout me,” he added, cutting her thoughts short. “I asked you ‘cause I wanna know.”

A big smile threatened to bloom on her face, just from the notion that he cared for something as small as her whims. After all, she never cared a great deal about what she felt like doing from one moment to the next. Those impulses came and went, and she usually had better things to do than what she felt like doing. But he struck her as the sort of person who placed great value on his impulses — and, seemingly now, on hers as well. She bit her lip to temper the warm and pleasant feeling.

“Well… I want to eat this breakfast with you,” she started.

“Mhm…”

“And then I want to take a nice, hot shower…”

“So then, you can’t do that here,” he chuckled. “Maybe back in your room.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t do it in my room either.”

“What was it you said? Not fussy, are you?”

“And I thought you said that I deserve to be,” she smiled, wrapping her arms around his shoulders.

“That’s right,” Benny purred, leaning down to kiss her again.

The coffee cooled on the bed beside them, butter melted on the toast, and the scant jam he’d dug up in one of Tex’s drawers was starting to slide right off. They kissed as if nothing was around them, and neither the scent of breakfast nor the singing birds outside could pull them from the comfort of being in each other’s arms.

“Come home with me,” she whispered against his lips. “You don’t have to stay for long if you don’t want…”

“You sure,” he asked, rubbing a thumb against her cheekbone. “I don’t wanna be a pest.”

“You’re not a pest. You rescued me.”

“That’s just cause you were pretty,” he grinned.

“I don’t think so,” she said with an easy smile. “You didn’t see what I looked like when you started slowing down. I think you’d have stopped for just about anybody.”

“Maybe,” he smiled, swaying her gently in his arms. “But I’m glad that it was you.”

She threaded her fingers gently through his hair, the soft strand sliding through like honey, like sunlight, like golden threads in the most delicate tapestry.

“Come home with me,” she asked again. “Don’t say no. Unless… unless you don’t really want to.”

“Oh, I want to,” he sighed, tightening his arms around her with a possessiveness that frightened her in the best possible way. “Just… tell me when you want me to leave.”

“I’ll tell you right now,” she grinned. “Never.”

[inkandtension]

OF INK AND CHARCOAL.

Artist! Hyunjin x Writer! Reader

Theme: sad, drifting away from each other, hope towards end

You sat by the window, your laptop open, fingers tapping idly against the keyboard. Outside, the sky was bleeding into sunset—the colors fierce and bold, blending like they couldn't decide whether to end the day or prolong the inevitable.

It made you think of the words in Sylvia Plath’s The Bell Jar:

"I felt my lungs inflate with the onrush of scenery—air, mountains, trees, people. I thought, 'This is what it is to be happy.' But happiness, too, can feel like suffocation."

You often found yourself writing through that lens. Capturing moments that stood still, forever on the brink of something profound. But today, your mind was blank, heart weighed down by an inexplicable heaviness. It was like you had too many words, too many emotions, and no way to release them.

“I don’t want a box of fancy chocolates, I want you, sitting next to me”

The words were those that you said, yesterday was your 4th year anniversary, and he wasn’t home.

Or rather a house, because it refused to be your home, not anymore.

He thought you were overthinking, He said many anniversaries like this would come, that you both could spend them in amazing ways when things weren’t so busy. But that’s when it hit you—he actually believed you’d be together for a long time. That there were countless tomorrows waiting for the two of you.

He didn’t understand.

It wasn’t about the day. It was about him. About how he was drifting further away from you with every passing second, and he didn’t even realize it. People change; so did he.

He used to be your best friend, your confidant, the one who understood every silence, every glance. He could finish your thoughts before you even had to speak them. Now, the silence between you is heavy, tense, and unbearable. You’ve started to feel like strangers who share the same space but live in entirely different worlds. You’re still here, still trying, but him? He’s somewhere else.

You feel like strangers, when you meet a stranger, you smile, not out of undying love, out of compulsion.

He thinks it’s about the missed anniversary. But it’s not. It’s about all the moments that have passed with him not truly seeing you. You’re right there in front of him, but it’s like he’s looking past you, through you, at something else—something you can’t reach.

The problem is, he doesn’t notice. He doesn’t see how his distance is tearing you apart. How your conversations have become shallow, how the meaningful exchanges you used to have are now just brief, distracted words before he retreats into his world. You wonder if he even remembers what it used to be like, back when the two of you would sit in silence, and it would still feel full, still feel like everything was right in the world.

Now, the silence feels empty, a void between you that grows wider each day.

He spends more time with his art, disappearing into it. And maybe, that’s where he’s been hiding all along. You think of how he once told you that art was about capturing a moment, freezing it in time so it could live forever. But you don’t want to live in frozen moments. You want him here, now, fully present. You want him to realize that the distance between you isn’t something that can be brushed aside with promises of a future. It’s something that needs to be addressed now.

He’s always that you tend to dwell too much on feelings, on little things that don’t matter. But this isn’t little. This is everything.

You miss the way he used to look at you, the way his presence alone could make you feel whole. Now, even when he’s there, it’s like he’s somewhere else. You see it in the way his eyes glaze over when you talk, how his focus always seems to drift. You’ve started to wonder if he even cares anymore, if he even realizes that his absence—though physical—has become emotional too.

The truth is, you don’t care about fancy chocolates or grand gestures. You never did. You just want him. You want the man who used to make you feel like the only person in the room, the man who used to understand you without needing to ask. You don’t need extravagant gifts. You need his time, his attention, his love—the way it used to be.

But he doesn’t see that. He thinks there’s always time. That you can make it up later. But what he doesn’t realize is that every day he pulls away, a little more of you pulls back too. The cracks in your relationship are growing, and the longer they’re ignored, the harder they’ll be to repair. He thinks you’re just upset because of the anniversary. But this has been building for months, maybe even longer. And now, it feels like you’re both on the verge of breaking.

You wish you could find the right words to make him understand, to make him see what’s happening between you. But every time you try, you stop yourself. Because deep down, you know that he’s not ready to hear it. Or worse, he doesn’t want to.

People change. You’ve changed too, but you’ve grown in ways that are trying to hold onto him, while he’s slipping away into someone you barely recognize. And the hardest part is knowing that he thinks everything is fine. That you have time. That you’ll figure it out later.

But you don’t want to live in the future. You want the present. You want him next to you, really next to you, not just physically, but emotionally, mentally, in every way that matters.

Because you’re tired of waiting. You’re tired of hoping that things will get better on their own, that the distance between you will magically close. You know now that it won’t—not unless something changes. Not unless he changes.

Hyunjin must have noticed the stillness, as he quietly approached.

He stood behind you, his fingers brushing against your shoulder, warm and grounding. you tilted your head back to meet his gaze, but his eyes were somewhere else—far off in a world you couldn't reach.

"Writer's block?" he asked softly, his voice like the brush of a fine-tipped pen over canvas.

You shrugged, looking out at the twilight, thinking of how words could so easily fail when you needed them most.

It wasn't that, and the fact that he failed to recognise that was proof, that he indeed is drifting.

"Something like that."

He knelt beside you, his head resting against your knee.

Hyunjin had never needed words in the way you did. His language came in strokes, colors, textures—the way paint blended into something more than itself, how the space between two figures could tell a thousand stories without saying a word.

He pulled out a sketchbook, his charcoal pencil already dancing over the page. He didn’t need to speak; his art was the dialogue. The curves and edges of the lines formed into abstract shapes, slowly coming into focus.

You watched as he sketched two figures—"us" he said. But something was different.

"You’ve drawn us before," you said, your voice softer now. "Why does this feel different?"

Hyunjin paused, looking at the sketch. "It’s not about us. It’s about the distance between us."

you stared at the unfinished drawing, your breath catching in your throat. "Distance?"

His hand traced the space between the two figures he’d drawn. "We’re close, but not touching. Like we’re in different worlds... I don’t know how to explain it with words, but sometimes, I feel like we’re speaking different languages."

So he did feel it.

It made you think of Picasso, how his blue period captured his own internal isolation—despair hidden in soft hues, sadness under every stroke.

Hyunjin smiled, though his eyes remained serious. "I think silence is a language all on its own. Just like your pauses when you write, they say just as much as the words."

The silence stretched between you both then, a moment so textured with meaning that words would have felt intrusive. You turned away from the window and faced him, the intensity of his gaze making you feel as though you were a character in one of his pieces—forever captured on canvas, never truly understood.

"Do you ever feel like we’re stuck in our own worlds?" you asked, voice barely above a whisper. "You, with your art. Me, with my writing. Sometimes I wonder if we’re talking past each other."

He frowned, his fingers pausing over the sketchbook. "Sometimes, yes. But I don’t think that’s a bad thing. I think we’re just... translating differently."

You suddenly remembered a quote from

Murakami's Norwegian Wood:

"What happens when people open their hearts?" I asked. "They get better," she said.

You wanted to believe that. That even in the silence between you both, even in the spaces, that you were opening your hearts in the only ways you knew how.

"I write because I want to make sense of things," You said quietly. "But you—" You hesitated, unsure if you were getting it right. "You create to express what can’t be made sense of, don’t you?"

He smiled, his eyes softening. "Exactly."

For Hyunjin, art was never about answers. It was about capturing moments that words could never fully express. He often spoke of how Van Gogh’s Starry Night wasn’t about the sky or the stars—it was about feeling the vastness of everything and knowing you were a part of it, yet so far away from touching it all.

He slid the sketchbook toward you, and you stared at the drawing again. The figures—"us"—still remained apart. But this time, you noticed something you hadn’t before. The way his hand had darkened the space between 'us', as if to suggest that the distance wasn’t empty, but full of unsaid things.

"This is how I feel when you’re lost in your stories," Hyunjin said. "Like you’re right next to me, but your mind is miles away. I don’t know if you’re with me or somewhere else."

you ran my fingers over the page, over the shadowed space. "Maybe that’s just how we’re meant to be. Maybe that space is what gives us room to grow."

He watched me for a moment, his lips parting as if to say something, but then he paused. Instead, he reached for his paintbrush, dipped it in blue, and ran it over the page. The blue spilled between the figures, a vibrant, living thing, connecting us in a way the lines alone couldn’t.

"It’s not about closing the distance," he murmured. "It’s about filling it with something meaningful."

You sat with that for a moment, letting it sink in. How you had both been trying to make sense of the space between yourselves in your own ways—you with your words, him with his art. But maybe Hyunjin was right. Maybe the space wasn’t something to fear or fill, but to cherish. A space where your worlds could coexist without fully merging.

"Virginia Woolf once wrote," You began, " ‘I am rooted, but I flow.’ I think that’s us. We’re both rooted in who we are—me as a writer, you as an artist—but we flow through each other’s worlds. We don’t need to be the same to be together."

He reached across the table then, his fingers brushing yours, and for the first time in what felt like forever, the silence between you both wasn’t heavy. It was light. Full.

Hyunjin smiled, his eyes softening as he closed the sketchbook. "We don’t need words or paintings for everything. Sometimes, just being here is enough."

[torturedtypewritersdept]

the sun + the sand - pt. four - sleepover

↳PAIRING: bff!rafe cameron x fem!reader

↳SUMMARY:you have a stalker, but your best friend rafe won't let anything happen to you, even if he has to come clean about how he really feels.

↳WARNINGS: mentions of stalking, blackmail, inappropriate behavior (not from rafe), protective!rafe, etc.

↳A/N: this is a repost from my old blog @illicitfixations + @lovelornanonymity. all of my works are being reposted to this one + the previous blog has been deactivated.

You had dozed off, head meeting with the seatbelt and the window like a scar meeting skin; they were once operating separately and now, they sat melded together. Your eyes fluttered open as Rafe put the truck in park and got out, heading to your side and opening the door. The crisp, autumn air hit your face first and you lazily smiled as his blue orbs took you in and he unbuckled you, placing his hands underneath your knees and the back of your head. 

“Come on, peach.” 

He whispered, pulling you out of the seat and into his arms. He shut the door behind him with his sneaker clad foot and walked carefully towards the front door of tannyhill. He made a mental note to install cameras all over your family’s property by the end of the week, but until then, you were going to stay right where you were – tucked safely in his arms. 

You woke up to thunder cracking, the sound jolting you out of your dream. You couldn’t remember exactly what it was about, you just knew it was a good one. Upon taking in your surroundings, you realized you were in the guest room inside of Tannyhill, just across the hall from where Rafe slept and all you could think about after the events of the night, was how badly you wanted to be curled up next to him. So, you peeled off the quilt you were layered with and tiptoed to his door, knocking softly, just in case he was asleep after all. Only a moment later his door swung open and he wore a scowl on his face, prepared to kill his sister or his dad for disturbing his slumber. Your face fell as you took in his anger and your eyes dropped to the floor as you placed your hands behind your back and pressed into your palms, mad at yourself for making him angry. 

“Peach, baby, what’s the matter?” 

He asked, his face softening as he took in your sad state, a state he had caused you to be in. 

“Nothing, sorry.” 

You turned on your heel, but before you could get far he grabbed you by the wrist and pulled you into his bedroom. 

“Don’t say sorry, sweetheart. What’s the matter?” 

He questioned with pleading eyes as he moved you to a sitting position on his bed. 

“Well, I wanted to sleep with you.” 

You muttered, still refusing to meet his eyes. He didn’t say anything, just moved to lay down and patted the spot on the bed beside him. You obliged, crawling toward him and nuzzling your head onto his bare chest, clinging to him like your life depended on it as he threw the comforter over the both of you. You breathed in silence for a few moments, only the rhythmic motions of your two intertwined heartbeats filling the room. 

“Why’d you want to sleep with me, peach?” 

He asked after a few moments. 

“Well, the thunder woke me up and I started thinking about how scared I was earlier, so it just felt right.” 

He nodded in response, taken aback by both your admission of fear and the knowledge that sleeping with him – just felt right. For a brief moment, he wondered if maybe you felt the same way he did, but he quickly pushed the thought down as you shifted on his chest, laying your ching directly against his sternum and looking up at him with doe eyes. 

“Can I ask you something?” 

You questioned him. 

“Sure, sweetheart.” 

He replied, his ears perking up as he listened intently to what you had to say. 

“How come you’ve always called me peach? Because my ass is so fat?” 

You giggled as you joked and his smile made your chest clench. 

“No – because you’re sweet like a Georgia peach.” 

You smiled at the sentiment and the fact that he thought you were sweet. Boys thought you were a lot of things; easy, complicated, pretty, but – sweet was never one of them. You wondered if Rafe meant that in more than a platonic way, but quickly pushed the thought away as his lips grazed your forehead. 

“No one has ever said that about me before.” 

You muttered, not really meaning to say that out loud. But, he heard you and he was confused by what you meant. 

“No one’s ever called you sweet?” 

He questioned, his heart clenching at the thought. 

“Rafe, be real, I’ve been called a lot of things, but sweet has never been one of them.” 

You replied, matter-of-factly and he let out a long sigh. 

“Well, sweet girl, I guess I’m going to have to tell you everyday then, yeah?” 

He responded in a sing-song voice and you smiled at that. 

“What about when you’re married, huh? Who will say it then?” 

You questioned, even though the thought of him with someone else made your insides churn. 

“Peach, if my hypothetical wife has a problem with you, then I’ll be getting a hypothetical  divorce.” 

You laughed at that fact and you hoped he was serious, you hoped no one would ever take him away from you. 

“Besides, no one is going to want to marry me anyway.” 

He continued and you were taken aback at his revelation. He had to know how special he was, how wanted he was, by everyone – including you. 

“Well, if no one wants to marry you, then there’s definitely no hope for me.” 

You muttered, cuddling further into him and his grip tightened around your waist. His heart clenched in the same way yours did. 

“Tell you what, if no one has scooped us up by the time we’re thirty, let’s marry each other.” 

He suggested and you could feel the nerves exuding from his body. 

“Okay.” 

You replied softly, knowing that if you were going to marry anyone, it had to be Rafe Cameron. 

as always, if you'd like to be added to my taglist, please let me know <3

taglist:

@maybankslover

[orange-peony]

Thanks for tagging me @pato-roldnart and @monbons!

I think I'm almost done with the first chapter of one of my CORBB collabs (hopefully?). Here's a bit of Simon's POV:

I’ve always been drawn to him like a moth to the brightest and most blinding light. I don’t get him. I don’t get him at all. The way he carries himself, as if he were superior and above everyone else. The way he still listened to me every time I poured my heart out to him, without making fun of me. He’s rich and posh, but he always looks so sad. And the way he has to look at me sometimes…

The way he somehow knows when I’m at my lowest and always buys me a drink or something to eat.

He said his mother died when he was little. That it was a car accident. That the car caught fire, but his mother managed to push him out of it before it was too late.

I wonder if he has scars. If underneath those expensive clothes he’s not as put together as he looks. I think he would look perfect with a few scars. I found myself dying to know what he looks like naked on so many occasions while I was talking to him or making him coffee. Penny says I’m obsessed with him. Shep always smiles and says there’s nothing wrong with having a healthy crush or an unhealthy obsession for someone. I don’t know what to think anymore. I don’t know if it’s a crush or something else. If it’s something more. I don’t even know if I fancy blokes.

All I can think of is Baz, Baz, Baz.

I want to rip off every layer of him, like old wallpaper, until I’m left with the real Baz. The one nobody gets to see.

Tags under the cut:

@pato-roldnart , @bubble-gumhead , @cutestkilla , @thewholelemon , @artsyunderstudy , @leithillustration , @iamamythologicalcreature , @mooncello , @hushed-chorus , @larkral , @letraspal , @you-remind-me-of-the-babe , @facewithoutheart , @emeryhall , @imagineacademia , @alexalexinii , @fatalfangirl , @wellbelesbian , @shrekgogurt , @skeedelvee , @blackberrysummerblog , @rimeswithpurple and anyone who fancies sharing a WIP of any kind.

[misstwisted]

raaaaant time

so, I am very upset over the new Menéndez brothers series that came out. If you’ve seen it, you probably know why. Before I go into this, if you don’t know about this case, the menendez brothers had murdered their mom and dad in 1989 as self defense, fearing of them soon murdering them themselves, after suffering years of physical, emotional, and sexual abuse by their parents hands.

for context I am a long time supporter of these men. I’ve known about this case since I was around 12 (unsupervised internet access, lmao) and I supported them then and I support them now.

This series is fucking disgusting. And not just because of the atrocious, disrespectful, and weirdly comedic relief portrayals of these traumatized men, no no no, it also of course just had to include sexualization and Incestuous fetishization of them. I was SO EXTREMELY UNCOMFORTABLE watching these scenes. I’m sure it’s all supposed to show how their father had fucked up the brothers relationship and how he blurred the lines for them of what’s appropriate and not appropriate to do with your family, but this crosses a god damn line. It’s possible I’m also giving this dumb fuck director too much credit. Idk if it’s just me, but this feels like a writers barely disguised fetish moment. So many scenes felt like the start of a porno, and at times DID BECOME A PORNO!!!!!

I remember so many times of me yelling out loud in shock “WHAT IS THIS SHOW????”

the dialogue is trash, the pacing is trash, the portrayal is trash, etc. The only part I personally think was great was when they recreated the footage of Lyle and Erik walking into court. When I was watching it I felt they really looked and acted like the brothers at that moment. And the fact it’s surrounded by such garbage is sad. It really felt disconnected from the other episodes and scenes because of how much I enjoyed that little moment. And they weren’t even talking or anything.

There’s only like one word I could use to describe a lot of the scenes, especially the sexualization scenes, which is: unnecessary.

Gotta be honest, I really wanted to like this show! Thought it could bring back attention on this case again. Show empathy towards them. But no, I had to watch two actors portraying real life traumatized brothers kiss each other.

I am seriously wondering now if Ryan Murphy wanted two actors with romantic/sexual chemistry casted on purpose for what seems to be some sort of fantasy of his.

I started this show YESTERDAY, I am halfway through episode 7 right now. I wanted to see if it’d get better, and it just never did. But honestly? It’s my fault. What did I fucking expect from a Netflix series that’s directed by the guy who made GLEE? I’m still mad now, but I can’t even describe how even more upset I was yesterday watching it.

I legit could probably go on for days about how disrespectful this show is, and good on Erik for not being afraid to call it and the directors out.

It’s in vain to say this, because obviously they’ll never see it, but: Ryan Murphy and Ian Brennan you two are pieces of utter dogshit. What about any of this was a good idea? You guys deserve to be sued for thinking this was okay. You deserve it for making Dahmer, and you deserve it for making this. I don’t even wanna SAY all the horrible things I think about you guys. All i hope is nobody ever hands you two a god damn camera again. Sincerely go fuck yourselves.

I know I’m being a dramatic little bitch again for the 100th time but this is truly horrendous. This isn’t just a story you can add shit to and get creative with, guys, this is their LIVES. These are real human people with dignities and families that care about them. They’ve been disrespected enough, the fact that they were sentenced to life in general just shows how little people empathized with them.

This audacity of this being made. This very serious story of trauma being turned into this weird comedy show.

what is this RPF, Ryan Murphy? ARE YOU BORED??? How about you go make a actual fucking difference? Cause you know what, Erik and Lyle are, and they’re the ones who’re incarcerated!

that’ll be all.