words-and-yearning

[words-and-yearning]

Obsessed

OF!Mel x Special Viewer Sevika

Content: modern AU; OnlyFans model Mel; Sevika is a special patron; I kinda proofread this but I kinda didn't

CW: smut, video sex, video recording sex, slight dubious consent towards the end, strap use

Special Viewer Sevika who doesn't usually like to pay for sexual attention, she's used to getting it for free. But after browsing through Twitter porn accounts, she couldn't help but be captivated by a beautiful dark-skinned model with gold accented tattoos. Her three second videos on the site weren't enough, Sevika needed more. One day, she bit the bullet and downloaded OF, finding and following the model immediately.

OF Mel who was kicked out at a young age, so had to turn somewhere for a steady income. She hated the idea of people touching her. Looking, however, was a different story. She's been in the game for years now. She's adapted to many trends and spikes and falls within the industry. There is no part of her that feels ashamed for her work, she's in her bag.

Special Viewer Sevika who discovered the special patron feature on Mel's page. The package includes one on one video calls with Mel, monthly specially wrapped packages, and exclusive videos made just for the patron. Against her better judgement, she purchases the package.

OF Mel who immediately notices a new special patron on her page: Sev368. She pays no mind at first, thinking this client is going to be like everyone else.

Special Viewer Sevika who, after months of subscribing as a special patron, has finally decided to request a private video call.

OF Mel who didn't expect someone like Sevika to appear on the video call.

"Oh wow", Mel gasps.

"Is there a problem?" despite Sevika's stoic expression, she feels completely embarrassed by the nature of this interaction. One wrong word out of the model's mouth may cause Sevika to end the call.

"Uh...n-no! Not at all, it's just...", Mel isn't the one to stammer, especially when it comes to chatting with her clients. But the fact that a woman with this kind of beauty is willing to PAY to see her naked makes her brain reboot. "...I don't really get people like you as a patron."

Sevika hums, ignoring the way her heart drops at Mel's words. "So how does this work?"

Suddenly, Mel remembers her well-practiced routine. "Right, so (clears throat) I'll dance for you and--"

"I'm not really into dancing."

"Okay...", Mel has never had a client...decline...dancing? "Well, what are you into?"

The women sit in silence while Sevika thinks. "Get on the floor."

Mel's cam is perched high on a ring light system, allowing the viewer a full body view of Mel. Following Sevika's orders, she removes her phone from the ring light and sets herself up on the floor, tucking her feet under her ass. She tilts her head slightly to the side, waiting for Sevika's next command.

"Keep the camera there and lay down on your back."

Mel, again, does as she's told.

"You gotta spread your legs, doll."

Mel opens her legs in front of the camera, revealing her now soaked panties. This feeling confuses her. Her job allows her to be in control her own content and body. So, why is she allowing this random client to dictate her every move? Moreover, why is she enjoying it?

While Sevika still feels mild embarrassment over the situation she found herself that the full view of Mel's drenched privates has done wonders for her confidence.

"You wet for me, baby?"

"Surprisingly, yes", Sevika can hear the smile in Mel's voice. The model reaches to touch herself through her panties, moaning loudly to purposely arouse Sevika.

It works. "It's okay, doll. Lemme see you play with yourself."

Mel slips off her soaked underwear, making a show out of teasing herself before giving in to the pleasure. Sevika watches as manicured nails roughly rubs at a clit she wishes she were touching.

OF Mel who spends more time with Sevika than any other patron. She will clear out and cancel previously established appointments as to not miss a virtual date with the beautiful butch. One day, she gives in to her deepest desire and dm's Sevika her personal phone number.

Special Viewer Sevika who eagerly saves Mel's number into her phone, but waits 24 hours before calling her. Don't wanna seem desperate, you know?

She totally is.

"I'm fucking obsessed with you, doll", Sevika whispers one day over a video call with her model. Deciding that she makes enough money from her other patrons, she completely waived Sevika's charge for video calls. "Call it a special client discount", she winked. Now Sevika's watching as Mel takes an 8-inch silicone while stroking her clit with a vibrator. Mel is too overwhelmed to answer her lover.

“I wanna see you baby. In person,” a private thought that Sevika lets slip through her teeth.

Mel ceases her stroking to smile at the camera. The smile of a woman who fucked herself dumb for an hour straight with the toys bought by her favorite patron. “I would love that.”

OF Mel and Special Viewer Sevika who live more than a thousand miles apart from one another. After days of planning, they decide to meet in the middle in a bustling city. Sevika purchases the plane tickets while Mel plans a four day itinerary in the city. “If we’re going to see each other, why not make it an adventure.”

Special Viewer Sevika who realizes that her obsession with this model has reached its tipping point. She hardly knows anything about her, yet she’s willingly going to spend four days with her in a random city far from home? She’s too far gone, she knows it. But a big part of her does not care.

OF Mel who is skeptical about meeting with Sevika, and further isolating herself in a hotel room with her while being 500 miles away from home. She’s attempted relationships before, they’ve never gone well. Half of her exes wanted her to quit her only stream of income while the other half treated her like their personal prostitute. Strangely, though, Mel trusted Sevika. Plus, “it was only a meet up. If things don’t work out, we can always part ways.”

Special Viewer Sevika whose brain short circuits when she sees Mel in person at the airport. She's taller than she expected, but she still barely reaches Sevika's chin. Her tattoos are a lot more vibrant in life than they are in video, the bright gold starkly contrasts her dark brown skin. It’s angelic. She notices how her strides are long and confident, pulling stares from almost every person in the area. Sevika’s skin grows goosebumps when she hears Mel call her name. Her voice smooth as velvet sans video filter. She realizes that her need for Mel is comparable to her need for water.

OF Mel who cannot stop staring at the tall, muscular butch in front of her. She’s immediately obsessed with the way Sevika fills any room she’s in. Her aura, not just her stature, commands the attention of everyone within a 10 feet radius of her. Her short hair in a half up half down style; her bulging muscles peaking through her long sleeves and joggers; her large breasts and wide hips; her sharp jawline; everything about her represents the perfect mixture of femininity and masculinity that Mel immediately becomes obsessed with. The women are not officially dating, but nobody else around them knows that. Mel loves how the wondering gaze of strangers immediately snaps away when they see Sevika standing beside her. It turns her on to no end. Mel knows she must have Sevika.

OF Mel who is surprised that they don't hook up on the first night in the hotel. After a beautiful dinner at a rooftop restaurant, the women returned to the hotel and started... talking. Like having a genuine conversation about one another's lives: what they do for work, what they do for fun, their interests, their dislikes, their friends, their family, their exes. How Sevika lost her arm; how Mel became estranged from her family. Eventually, they fall asleep in one another's arms with a plotless movie playing in the background. Mel awakes to Sevika's sleeping face. Facial features sharp but relaxed. Against Mel's will, her brain begins to conjure up a future with her.

Special Patron Sevika who wanted to know everything about Mel: the good, the bad, the ugly, the beautiful. She realizes halfway through the night that she's become infatuated with the little things about Mel. Sevika has never been the one to crack jokes, but she found herself becoming a world-renowned comedian, just so she could hear Mel's laugh. She adores the way the model's eyes sparkle when she sees something sweet or something shiny or something sparkly. Although Sevika knows she makes way less money than Mel, she is willing to empty her pockets just to see Mel smile. The next morning, Sevika initially wakes up earlier than Mel. But upon seeing the smaller womans head buried in her neck, long eyelashes lightly dusting her plump cheeks, Sevika decides that a few more hours wouldn't hurt.

OF Mel and Special Patron Sevika who can't wait to fuck each other.

It's the third night of their four-day trip. The sexual tension between the two was burning for three days straight until it finally exploded into a ferocious make out session. In the small hallway of their hotel room, Sevika pins Mel to the wall by lifting her by her thighs. Mel's legs, which are wrapped around Sevika's waist, tighten as the bigger woman kisses and bites down her cheeks and neck. Sevika begins sucking at Mel's throat, pulling moans that were far different from the ones in her videos. These moans were gutteral; caused from sexual yearning rather than false performance.

"Please give it to me, please, please, please," Mel has never been the one to beg, but she doesn't think she can make another night without Sevika on top of her.

Sevika answers with a moan as she makes her presence known on the surface of Mel's neck. From this position, she easily accesses Mel's heat, wrapping her harm around her ass to finger her cunt.

Mel gasps in surprise. "God, you're so strong." She's so touched starved she could come right there, but Sevika doesn't allow it. She moves both of them to the king sized bed, gently placing her princess on the virgin white sheets. From there Mel watches as the muscular woman undresses. Pulling off her shirt first before unbuckling her trousers. The sight makes Mel's hole clench and her clit throb in anticipation. Then, out of nowhere, she gets a sinister idea.

Quickly reaching into her gold, diamond studded bag, she pulls out her phone and opens the camera app. She presses the little red record button and drunkenly says,"smiiiiiiile."

Sevika looks up at the camera and smirks. "You tryin to pimp me out, princess?"

"No, no one else will see this. But a beauty like you can't avoid the camera for long."

"Well in that case...", Sevika snatches the camera from Mel's hand. Maybe Mel is too drunk to remember, but she doesn't recall Sevika putting on strap. But there it was, in all its length and girth, filling up her field of vision. Sevika points the camera down towards Mel. She lifts her hand to her cheek, guiding her lips to the tip of the strap. '"Open."

Mel obeys, moisturizing the strap with her saliva. Sevika thrusts the strap further into her mouth, causing both women to moan. "Look up at the camera, doll." Sevika watches as Mel's ivy green eyes flicker up towards the camera, tears collecting at the edges of her eyelashes. "There's a good girl. Get it all wet for me, it's going in you next."

Mel groans as the strap fills her mouth, forcing her to lower her jaw to an uncomfortable range to compensate for the girth. Sevika pulls her off the plastic length. "Smile." The princess smiles at the camera, streams of saliva running down her chin. "So damn beautiful."

Using one hand on Mel's arm, Sevika flips the smaller woman on her back. "Arch it for me, baby. Like you do in the videos." Mel happily obeys. Her arch, to Sevika's pleasure, is comparable to that of a stretching cat. Sevika turns on the phone flashlight while still recording. "Look at that."

"Do you like what you see," Mel coos.

"Love it," Sevika slowly inserts the length into Mel's exposed cunt. Mel lurches forward, but the stronger woman above her pulls her back by the waist and tuts. "You can take all of it, baby."

Can she? Mel hasn't had genuine sex in so long that Sevika's strap feels like the first time she had sex. She grips the sheets as Sevika buries her cock deeper and deeper into her core, hitting spots she forgot she had.

"mmf--ah--mmm-mm-fuck", Mel can barely form a coherent sentence as Sevika's punishment on her pussy increases in speed. She suddenly remembers that she's being recorded and reaches one arm back to smack the phone out of Sevika's hand, who doesn't take too kindly to that action.

Sevika grabs both of Mel's wrists and pins them to her back, deepening her arch. "Camera shy, all of a sudden?" Her thrusts do not let up, instead, she pumps her cock impossibly faster into Mel's cunt. "What if I posted you everywhere? Huh? What if I exposed you for the slut you were? Would you like that?" Mel wants to scream from how good Sevika's dick feels. A familiar feeling begins to pool within her stomach, and from the sloppiness of Sevika's thrusts, she can tell that she is also close.

"Goddamn, you look so good", Sevika huffs. "Too good to keep private. I'm gonna show everybody, baby. I'm gonna show everybody how good your pussy is. Do you want that?"

Mel continues to gasp and slur incoherently, feeling her orgasm about to spill over. Sevika grunts.

"Huh? Talk to me, doll. Say no if you don't want it."

With that, Mel's orgasm spills over like an overfilled bucket. Causing her to shake and her legs to grow weak. She buries her head into the mattress, damn near screaming as Sevika rides out her peak.

"There's a good girl, give me what I want."

Mel drools as Sevika continues to pump into her overused pussy, smiling as she nears her own orgasm.

"Something funny?" Mel stops smiling and bites her lower lip. "God, you're so fucking good--" With a final thrust, Sevika reaches her orgasm. She stops recording, pulls out the strap, then leans forward to kiss Mel's heated ear and cheek.

Mel hums sweetly. "How about a little break, then round two."

Sevika smiles and kisses Mel along her back. "I would love that."

The women fuck for hours. Although they are too tired for aftercare by the end of the night, they still wrap themselves up in one another's arms, blissfully forgetting that tomorrow is their last night in the city together.

[words-and-yearning]

Tell Me More

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Part two to this

Content: Mel X Sevika, modern AU, eating out, fingering, strap-on sex, cheating

Sevika is yearning; Mel is an eater; Jayce is not paying attention to his fiancée.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Mel, sit down. We need to talk,” Jayce is already sitting at the edge of their sofa when Mel finally descends the stairs from her morning routine. His expression is serious and his voice sounds raspy, as if his vocal cords were already overworked at 8 in the morning. As Mel makes her way to the sofa, she could see that her husband’s face is flushed red and his eyes were swollen pink.

“Darling, what’s wrong?”, she tries to cup his warm face in between her cool hands, but he flinches away.

“Elora told me about the other night. At the nightclub.”

Mel’s heart catches in her throat. Her brain attempts to conjure a lie, but her tongue is faster. “Jayce, darling, it’s not what you think-“

“How could you betray me like that?”, Mel almost wishes that Jayce would yell, but his voice remains low.

Her eyes begin to sting. Her lungs feel as though they are breathing salt. “Please, please listen! I didn’t mean for it to happen.”

“Oh, she meant it,” a low, sultry voice calls from behind the sofa. The dark figure makes her way into the light. Smoke bellows from the cigar hanging from her burgundy lips, which are shaped into a nefarious smile. “She meant every second of it.”

“Sevika? What the hell are you doing in my house?” Mel’s eyes darts from her husband to her fling, trying to find some sort of connection between the two.

Sevika ignores the question. “Tell him how badly you wanted it.”

Jayce puts his face in his hands, but not over his ears; as if ashamed by the conversation but willing to listen to more.

“No”, Mel says, sternly.

“Go on, tell him. Tell him how you much you didn’t want to leave.”

“Stop this, now”, Mel pleads.

“Tell him why you did it in the first place.”

Now Mel’s hands were over her face.

“Tell me how happy I make you.”

Like an audible gradient, a dreamy, upbeat sound slowly fills the room. An additional, out of place vibration shakes and decimates each character within Mel’s façade until it is only her and darkness. When Mel’s eyes open to the blaring morning light assaulting her, she does not feel any less burdened.

It’s been two weeks since her visit to The Black Rose. Every night since then, the temptress has somehow seduced her way into Mel’s dreams. Mel has tried evict the woman from her thoughts, but like a nicotine user kicking a habit, the craving for her only builds by the day.

The task of forgetting Sevika becomes more difficult the longer Mel is left alone. Jayce has picked up a new project. Although this extra work has proven beneficial for their wallets, the extended hours and business trips have also stolen quality time that they could have been spending together.

“It will only be for three months, Mel. I’ve done long projects like this before, why is there a problem now?” Jayce had asked one day while preparing to leave Mel for work.

“I didn’t know it was a problem for a woman to want to see her man for more than three times out of the week,” Mel retorted, staring daggers into the back of her fiancé’s skull.

He must have felt a mysterious sharp pain in the back of his head. “That’s not what I mean.”

“I feel like we’re growing apart. And I don’t want to feel this distant when we’re married”, Mel doesn’t share how this distance entices her to wander into places where she will receive attention.

“I know. And I wish I could help it. If I can spare a few hours tonight, we can go somewhere special, then spend the rest of the night together.” That conversation was four days ago. There were no hours to spare. Mel spent the night alone in her king-sized bed, text ranting to Elora while demolishing a bottle of red wine.

Even this morning, Mel is greeted with a note on the fridge instead of the body of her man. She doesn’t bother to read it. Instead, she allows her mind to wander back to the Black Rose. Back to the large, gentle hands that had roamed her body, cupped her breasts and squeezed her thighs. Her clit throbs at the memory of the dancer playing her like a Spanish guitar, coaxing moans from her throat that had echoed throughout the small space. She delightfully remembers how intoxicatingly attractive the woman had smelled and how the larger woman felt against her back. Mel presses her thighs together, temporarily relieving the familiar ache of her clit.

Three raps on the door stuns Mel out of her daydream. She is about to walk to the door to open it, only to hear the deadbolt unlock and heavy clicks of heels enter the room.

“You didn’t pick up the phone, so I thought I’d stop by,” Mel’s mother appears from around the wall separating the front door from the kitchen.

Her patience already thinning out, Mel tries her hardest not to roll her eyes, “Is there anything you want?”

“Can’t a woman visit her only daughter without ulterior motives?” Mel quirks a doubtful eyebrow. “Alright, I’m here to discuss business matters.”

Mel scoffs and opens an unapologetic 9am bottle of wine, she ignores her mother’s disapproving glare. “I’ve already told you, Piltover Tech is not interested in merging with Noxus.”

“And I told you we’ll circle back to that conversation when you’re more mature and reasonable. I am here to give you a list of potential clients and investments to expand your reach and elevate your business. You know, as a good mother should.”

With her glass already empty, Mel takes the stapled-stack of papers her mother hands her. She quickly scans through the list of businesses and their descriptions before landing on a familiar name.

               “The Black Rose?”

               Her mother hums.

“The local strip club?” Mel is happy that a blush cannot easily betray her skin. “What business does Piltover have with a strip club?”

“And this is why you still need your mother, to discover avenues that your narrow mind won’t venture to.” Ambessa smirks. Mel finally rolls her eyes and refills her glass. “This particular strip club is interested in creating and selling their own toys.”

               “The world has enough of those.”

“Not enough owned and operated by women! Women who know first-hand how delicate and complex the female organ is. Who can truly bring pleasure to the womanhood without desensitizing her to human touch and—"

               “Oh my gods, thank you, that’s enough! Didn’t take you for much of a feminist.”

“I am no stranger to the demands of modern women. Plus, I know what sells.” Ambessa places a hand on Mel’s shoulder. Her sharp, burgundy acrylic nails are decorated with little gold balls and lace. “Do tell me you will take this list in your favor.” She doesn’t wait for an answer. Mel listens as her mother’s red-bottomed stilettoes grow quieter. The front door opens, “Tell Jayce I said hi”, then shuts.

Mel stands in silence for a beat, then dumps out the rest of her glass. “Love you, too.” She hates to admit her mother is right, but she returns to the list to find the name of The Black Rose’s owner and a phone number to call.

               Once she finds the name of the owner, she can only laugh at the irony. “Of fucking course.”

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Within the next few hours, Mel is sitting in her office pretending to look busy as she waits for her client. To an outsider, she looks composed and pristine with her white silk top and tan pencil skirt. But on the inside, Mel is trying her hardest not to shit herself. Her client, the owner of The Black Rose, is ten minutes late. Mel, surprisingly, did not mind as it gave her extra time to calm her nerves.  

 “It’s just a meeting, nothing more. It’s just a meeting, nothing more,” Mel repeats like an incantation. The phone line connecting to the lobby rings and Elora’s voice blares (with a knowing hint in her voice), “The Black Rose owner is here to see you, ma’am.”

               Fuck. “Bring her up.”

               Within a few minutes, a familiar woman appears in her doorway.

               “You can have a seat, Ms.—”

“Just call me by my first name,” Sevika remains standing. Mel doesn’t miss how Sevika’s large frame fills the office doorway. Or how her shirt, a deep maroon, blends perfectly with her caramel skin. Or how her black trousers tightly hug her thighs and her hips. She does not sit down. Instead, she roams to the left to scan the paintings along the walls.

               Mel clears her throat. “Sevika, for us to conduct business you must sit.”

Sevika slowly strides to the chair in front of Mel’s desk, her aura seething with confidence. Before settling down, she points to the framed photograph (a black and white image of Mel and her fiancé’s engagement) perched beside the computer and says, “Cute photo.”  

Mel ignores her. “So, you own The Black Rose?”

               “Yeah”

               “And you also dance?”

               Her eyes begin to glimmer with amusement, “You sound surprised, doll.”

               “Well, I mean-“

               “I like the extra tips, and it gets me away from paperwork.”

               “Right, so the dancing is just for fun.”

               Sevika huffs, it’s almost a laugh. “Are we here to talk about myself, or…”

“Oh, yes, right”, Mel stammers and clears her throat. “Your…um…business…(clears throat)… continues to thrive even under the conditions of an economic recession.”

It seems that comment gave Sevika an unneeded confidence boost; she slouches further into the chair and brings her hand under her nose, partially hiding the arrogant smile now drawn on her face. “Sex sells.”

“Indeed, it does”, Mel hates how her body temperature rises higher the longer she’s in the room with Sevika. How is she doing this to me? Despite her thoughts, Mel’s face does not betray the look of somebody completely unimpressed by Sevika’s comment.  “Anyways, I hear that you want to start producing toys—”

               “Want some?”

               “—and Piltover Tech would love to invest.”

               “That sounds tempting, what do you get out of it?”

               “Exposure and twenty-five percent of all profits.”

“Hmmmm,” Sevika rubs her chin in false contemplation. Mel picks up on this and forces down a giggle. “Alright, we’ll do it. But I want something else in return.” Mel raises an eyebrow. “A night. Just you and me.”

If Mel were drinking water, she would have choked and possibly died. Instead, she fumbles over her words in an attempt to remember English. “Is this a quid pro quo?”

“A little favor for a favor never hurt anybody.”

Mel’s hand moves to the back of her neck, finding it moist. This woman is literally making her melt under her gaze. Meanwhile, Sevika’s stance does not falter. In fact, she looks twice as cocky as she did when she first stepped into the office.

Mel breaks eye contact. “My fiancé will be home tonight.”

“Sure he will.”

And like the evil will of the universe was listening to the conversation, Mel receives a text from Jayce that reads: Gotta catch up on work. Gonna stay in a hotel tn. Love you.

“Judging by your face, it seems that I have custody of you tonight.”

“I’m not going home with you.”

“Oh, I’ve gathered that much. Didn’t think Miss Prim and Proper would enjoy a trip to downtown apartment living. So, when are we leaving?”

“We? WE are not going anywhere! I am going home and you are going… wherever!” Mel stands and grabs her Miss Prim and Proper purse. “It seems we have reached some sort of an agreement, so let me see you out.”

“We didn’t agree on shit”, Sevika stands as well, bypassing the desk to stand in front of Mel, face to face. “This is a complex deal, you know. What’s the harm in one night together to discuss… business.” The taller woman’s eyes lower to Mel’s chest. One side of her lip quirks up, as if she can see exactly what Mel has on underneath.

“If it’s for business—”

“And it is.”

“—then I don’t mind. I’ll write down my address and you can come over anytime.”

“Or I can just follow you home.”

The two women stand in silence before Sevika bursts into a fit of snickers. “Take a joke, doll.”

“Hm.” Mel grabs a sharpie from the pencil holder on her desk then takes Sevika’s flesh arm in her hand. Under her palm, the smaller woman swears she can feel every hardened muscle within Sevika’s forearm. While trying to manually even out her breathing, she scribbles her address just below the wrist. “I’ll be expecting you.”

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

It’s 7pm and her expected guest still has not arrived.

Mel switched between 4 different outfits, varying on casual to sexy to business to casual again. Now, she is in her lounging robe with a bottle wine in one hand while racking through clothes with her other.

Knock. Knock.

“Shhhit”, Mel downs the rest of her glass, a sliver of red wine slipping past her mouth. She looks over her four options again, still undecided in the statement she wanted to make. “You know what? Forget it.” The princess makes her way downstairs in the clothing she has on. When she opens the door, she is met with an astonished, nearly blushing Sevika.

This facial expression only lasts for one second, though. The broad woman trades her look of surprise for an expression of knowing arrogance. “Right down to business tonight, huh?”

Mel silently revels in the attention. “This shouldn’t take long, so I didn’t bother changing.”

“I got no complaints,” as Sevika pushes past the doorway, Mel notices a black backpack is slung across her shoulder.

“I wasn’t aware this talk was going to require tools.”

“Don’t be dense, doll,” Sevika drops the bag. “I’d be lying if I said I haven’t been waiting for you to come by. Did I not impress you the last time we met?” Her heavy footsteps echo throughout the room as she stalks closer to Mel.

“Regarding our deal”, Mel does not stagger backwards but holds her ground as Sevika’s gaze darkens. “I think it’s best if we—”

“Mmhm…”

“—merge our respective qualities—”

“Right”

“—and manufacture a product that would greatly benefit both partie—"

Mel is forced into silence as Sevika presses a kiss onto her lips. It doesn’t take long for the kiss to progress from closed and strained to open and relaxed. Mel reaches her arms around Sevika’s neck while standing on her toes, melding their bodies impossibly closer together. Their mouths attack one another with the fervor of two people starving for lust, but their hands caress one another with the eagerness of long separated lovers. From the way their bodies move at a tempo that only they understand, one would think they were a long-term couple, and not a second date hook-up.

Mel’s satin garment slips to her feet with a simple tug from one of the strings of her robe. A warm, flesh hand and a cold, metal one scale opposite sides of her body. Mel searches for Sevika’s eyes, but the dancer is too drunk on the epitome of perfection in front of her to notice.

“Let me taste you”, Sevika whispers into Mel’s mouth. Mel simply nods, then she is guided to the pure white couch in the middle of the living room, their mouths never leaving one another. Sevika gently lays Mel down on her back, taking her place on top of her. At one point Mel tugs Sevika’s loose fitting shirt off; at another point Sevika struggles against her pants and briefs. Fueled by a sudden burst of energy, Mel moves her hand from Sevika’s bicep to her now naked sex, rubbing intently until she feels another hand move her away.

“Oh, don’t tell me you’re a ‘touch-me-not’”, Mel teases rubbing the brunt of her palm on Sevika’s now soaking folds.

Sevika swallows down a moan. “Far from it, doll. Been with too many princesses to let any of them please me like that.” She leans back on her arms, a confident grin spreading across her face. “It’s not like they could anyway.”

Detecting a challenge, Mel slips two fingers between Sevika’s folds, fully coating them in the larger woman’s slick. Beneath her, Sevika’s eyes cloud with want as she bites her lips, still stifling any noise that may betray her. Admittedly, it has been a few years since Mel has last slept with another woman, much less touched another woman. But from her experience, she can pull a few tricks that many in her past have not expected her to pull.

“Sit up, on your knees”, Mel commands. Sevika raises an eyebrow, but does as she is told, probably humoring the feminine woman with whatever games she wanted to play. She realizes the game when Mel lays her body on the couch, placing her head right under Sevika’s cunt. “Are you open to this?” Without answering, Sevika lowers herself on Mel’s face. The princess laps her tongue broadly over Sevika’s cunt before focusing on her clit. Her hands wrap around Sevika’s mounds of muscles called thighs, to anchor herself in her position. It takes no time for the woman above her to start shaking, moans unapologetically spilling from her mouth. Rightfully concluding that Mel would not appreciate hair pulling, Sevika settles for gripping her nails into the back of the couch. Mel continues to devour the underserved clit in her mouth, sending shocks of pleasure up her stomach and down her legs. Sevika’s body harshly rocks onto Mel as her orgasm hits her like a fresh blunt. She lets out a final hiss before removing herself from Mel’s face and crashing a kiss onto her still open mouth, not caring about the leftover arousal coating her lips.

“You’re never leaving my side, you know that?”, Sevika groans as she picks Mel up by her bottom and carries her up the stairs to her bedroom. One would think the woman was a frequent visitor the way she easily maneuvered her way through the hallway and into the master bedroom.

“I should have known someone like you wanted me just as badly as I wanted you”, Sevika pulls a harness and dildo from her backpack. Mel’s eyes widen from the girth and the length of the toy. Sevika’s smirk widens. “But I’m not so sure a princess like you could handle—"

“Do have to be so damn cocky all the time,” Mel groans before forcefully pulling her by the shoulders into another kiss. Making out while putting on a strap and harness proves to be a difficult task, but Sevika makes it work. Especially for a woman that is just as eager to fuck as she is.

Using an amount of strength that is surprising to Sevika, Mel continues to pull Sevika’s larger body until she is completely on top of her. She gasps as she feels the girth of Sevika’s cock teases her pleading entrance. Sevika hesitates and their eyes meet. Sevika’s eyebrows quirk upwards, her eyes asking the silent, important question. Mel nods, her eyes shimmering with want.

Sevika starts slow, allowing the beautiful woman under her to adjust to the heaviness of the strap (‘cause surely she’s never had anything fill her up like this). Her thrusts hit deeper into Mel’s cunt, causing Mel to arch her back and the bed to shake. Sevika groans as she bites down on the side of Mel’s neck. “You don’t know how badly I needed this from you.”

Mel wishes she could respond, but the powerful woman above her has already quickened her pace, ruthlessly slamming her cock into Mel’s body. Large arms wrap her upper body and Mel finds herself anchored in place with no other choice than to take what’s being given to her. The sounds coming from her mouth and her drenched cunt are nothing less than pornographic, but it’s not her fault. The way Sevika fills her up so perfectly, how her thrusts hit her insides so violently, how she’s holding her so gently. Mel is surprised she hasn’t reached her orgasm yet. With every bit of her strength, she wraps her legs around Sevika’s waist crossing them in the back. Sevika moans in approval. Mel then moves her hands to Sevika’s back, digging her nails deep into the smooth skin and dragging them downward. Sevika swears.

“Fuck, baby. I’m close.” The closeness of their bodies provides accidental stimulation to Mel’s clit bringing her closer and closer to the edge until—

Right when both women reach their peak, the front door opens.

The women, none the wiser, resume making out, undoubtedly gearing up for round three. Sevika’s strap still pushes in and out of Mel as her hand finds her sensitive bud. “Wanna give me one more, princess?”

Mel hums, but that’s when she recognizes the heavy footsteps sounding from the staircase. A panicked expression hardly reached her face before the bedroom door is opened, revealing two naked bodies to an unexpecting fiancé.

[words-and-yearning]

tamsyn wrote, "and then they kissed" after every homoerotic griddlehark scene and then laughed and deleted it

[words-and-yearning]

Feb 4, 2025 - Thousands of Los Angeles high school students walked out of class and marched on the city capitol in third straight day of Anti-ICE protests. (Source)

PROTESTS ARE HAPPENING. THEY ARE JUST NOT BEING COVERED OUTSIDE OF LOCAL MEDIA OUTLETS. DO NOT RELY ON MAINSTREAM MEDIA.

There was a huge Trans-rights demonstration last night in New York outside of NYU Langone hospital in protest of their decision to halt gender-affirming care under Trump's order. (Source)

[words-and-yearning]

preaching to the choir here but the historic mothers of Pride were poor/unhoused transsexual women of color (Sylvia Rivera and Marsha P. Johnson) and a bisexual polyamorous Jewish woman (Brenda Howard) but the overall movement has been primarily focused on rights for white cis monogamous middle class gays. don't you just want to go apeshit?

[words-and-yearning]

Incredibly important for those in the South!!!

There are many reasons an abortion may have to be a secret - from state laws to immigration status.

Check out these tips for safely finding accurate reproductive health information and care online.

Alt-text included on all pieces

[words-and-yearning]

Tell Me

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(I'm gonna post this on AO3, but I have to wait to get an invitation because I have never posted on there before. I hope to make more chapters of this fic).

Content: Mel X Sevika, modern AU, porn with plot, cheating, fingering, light dub-con

The bride-to-be dips her thin-pointed makeup brush into her small container of black eye paint, carefully applying a black line beginning at the edge of her eye near her tear duct and ending at the edge closest to her ear. She leaves a small empty column in the middle on both eyes. She picks up another small brush and dips it in a container of gold eye paint, filling in the empty column on both her top and bottom eyelid. If a mistake is made, she swiftly and neatly wipes it off with a makeup wipe and retries; always perfecting her second attempt.

“Now, that’s better,” satisfied with her work, she concludes her makeup routine with a layer of setting spray: exactly four spritz and approximately five inches from her face.

Mel regards herself in her vanity mirror, tilting her head to manipulate the light’s effect on her face. There are no imperfections: her contour is both perfectly blended and perfectly carved; her lipstick does not exceed past the lining of her lips; her eyeshadow color remains obedient at eyelids (unlike in her elementary years of applying makeup, where accidental specks of eyeshadow can be seen at cheeks and chin). After inspecting her manicured nails for any residue of dark brown foundation, she returns her engagement ring on the rightful finger.

“Hm. Perfect”, as it should be. As it is. Mel’s life should be perfect. She acquired the perfect job as the youngest CEO of Piltover Technologies. She’s acquired the perfect lifestyle; meaning while working full-time, she can also travel where she pleases on her own dime and on her own time. She’s acquired the perfect man; a humble beginner who’s proved himself time and time again at her company. It only makes sense for them to end up together. It only makes sense for them to marry.

Mel’s eyes move from her face to her hair and back up to face, as if something were missing.

Something has always been missing. Living to exceed the strict standards of her mother always left a gaping hole where the feeling of accomplishment should reside. Lucky for her, Mel’s mother loves Jayce, her soon-to-be husband. “He’s intelligent yet impressionable. Strong, but moldable. The perfect man, in my opinion.” Her mother then went on to ramble about how great of a father he would make, but Mel stopped listening from there. There was a time in which she wanted that from Jayce: marriage and children. But something within her shifted. Something that she cannot place.

Her friends have long realized her funk, as they could always read Mel like a book. “What’s troubling you, darling?”, Elora, her life-long friend asked one day as they sat in the balcony of a popular beachfront brunch spot.

At the time, Mel picked at her soup and lightly sipped her jasmine tea, “Promise me you won’t tell a soul.”

“Of course”, Elora promised. She was genuine, but she also leaned forward attentively, hungry for the details Mel was soon to relay to her.

“I can’t get married to Jayce”, Mel said, slowly. She looked up to see Elora’s jaw to the table. “Please don’t look at me like that! I don’t know what it is.”

“Mel, honey, please tell me you’re joking.”

“There’s no one else if that’s what you’re wondering”, Mel reassured. “I loved him at first, I really, really did. But something shifted, I don’t know how to explain it. Our love, now, seems… transactional…scripted… like a performance.”

“Mmmhmm”, Elora hummed, as if she successfully diagnosed her best friend’s problem. “You know what I think? I think you’ve spent too long being independent. Sure, you’ve had a fling with a guy here or a hookup with a girl there, but you’ve never truly given yourself to another person. Having Jayce is, honestly, a brand-new concept for you.”

Mel sighed, “We’ve been together for two years, the concept isn’t ‘brand new’”.

“Au contraire, my love. Dating is one thing, marriage is another. It is a ball game. An unfair, dangerous, and humbling ballgame.”

“Is this supposed to make me feel better?”

Elora laughed. “You know what you need? A bachelorette party! Just you, me, and the girls! We can take you to this place I’ve been eyeing and- oh Mel stop trying to cover my mouth! It’s a good idea!”

Now, as Mel awaits Elora’s text to meet her out at her front door, she wonders if it is a good idea. Although she doesn’t believe in the traditional meaning of a bachelorette party (the idea that it is your “last day of freedom” is appalling to her), it wouldn’t hurt her to step outside of her shell and into some nightlife.

Mel’s phone pings with Elora’s contact name in a little box on her home screen.

You ready, party girl? the message reads.

With one last look over and a nod to the mirror, Mel sets off into the night.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

“Why can’t you just tell me where we’re going”, Mel asks the group as she applies another layer of lipstick after determining that the color was not bold enough to her liking.

“Hush, hush, we’ll be there moment”, Elora laughs the laugh of a person who has had too many shots of tequila.

“How are you already drunk at my bachelorette party?”

“Me? Drunk? Noooooooo”, Elora and the rest of the girls (around six girls in the limousine in total) cackle in unison. Mel predicts that tonight will not be short-lived.

The limousine turns right into the parking lot of a small but vibrant building. A sign just beside the building labels it “The Black Rose”, with each letter except the assumed “O” in neon, dark purple. A neon pink rose replaced the missing letter “O”.

“Where are we?”, Mel has never heard of this place, but judging from the packed parking lot and the countless shadows of bodies within the grandiose windows, she could see that it was fairly popular.

The women are dropped off towards the front of the line. Mel flashes her I.D. to the bouncer, and they are allowed in with zero questions. Immediately, Mel realizes that this club is different from the others around the city. For one, the bouncer was a tall woman with pale skin, dark tattoos, and brazing red hair pulled back into a tight bun. Although she wasn’t the normal bulky man that Mel was used to seeing guarding the entrances of nightclubs, she was just as intimidating. Within the club, there is a grand stage that takes up one third of the floor. Mel watches as numerous female dancers dressed in erotic clothing spin on poles located on the sides of the stage, while numerous others are dancing in chairs towards the front. This is where she notices the primary demographic of the nightclub: women. Butch women. Feminine women. Young women. Older women. Every variation of woman is both the provider of entertainment and the recipient.

“A lesbian nightclub?”, Mel shoves Elora, but she can’t say that she’s angry.

“Surprise!” Elora throws up her arms and performs exaggerated jazz hands. “This place is golden! I promise, there’s no way for you to get bored here!” She leads the group to the right side of the stage—to the left side houses the bar and a mysterious hallway leading to a secret backstage—which holds several chairs with a piece of paper taped to the back, curtly reading “reserved: “Mel bach party”. The women sit and watch as various dancers take the stage and captivate their audience with erotic performance.

After two margaritas (and several cowgirl acts), Mel could finally say she was having fun. Cheering on the performers, slipping five-dollar bills into their waistbands, and singing along to their chosen playlist. She understands Elora’s intention to bring her out into the world of looser rules, but how is this supposed to fix Mel’s most pressing problem?

Before she can ask, a voice—the host—bellows from the speakers: “Ladies and gentle-ladies, we didn’t think she’d show tonight, but you know she can’t stay away from y’all for too long! Please welcome to the stage Sevika!”

To say that the crowd is roaring is an understatement.

As the performer takes the stage, Mel notices that she is not like the others. While the other dancers flaunt revealing, feminine, and sparkling outfits, this one sports only a brown cropped tank top, cargo shorts that are ruffled at the edges, and faux combat boots. Usually, an outfit combination like this would make Mel gag in disgust, but the performer absolutely owned the look. The bronze lighting above the stage created perfect shadows that contoured her well-sculpted shoulders and arms (her left arm a visible, metal prosthetic). Her hair is short and straight, but thick; and it is pulled into a half up half down style. The woman’s head is held high; her jaw tight and well-defined; her facial features broad and stern yet seductive and genial.

The performer scans the make-up of her audience, then thrusts her hips towards them, revealing a happy trail that Mel’s eyes gladly follow. Sultry music gradually fills the room as the performer sets herself on the chair, legs spread open as if waiting for someone to crawl on their knees and take their chance with her. Mel is unable to hear the music over her racing heart. For some reason, this woman is making her body react in ways that should only be reserved for her future husband. Mel watches the performer’s lips closely as she mouths to the words of a Bobby Valentino song, heat rising from her chest to her ears. She crosses her legs as if to avoid an intense urge but makes the sensation more diabolical.

“Mel! Mel”, how long has Elora been calling her name, Mel doesn’t know. Elora gives Mel a confused glare then follows her eyes to the performer, then looks back at Mel, then gasps. “No way! Oh, fuck yeah, we’re doing it! Hey, Sevika!” Mel’s best friend since childhood, who has definitely never done anything to intentionally embarrass her, waves down the performer.

Sevika turns her head towards the group. Mel covers her face in shame.

“Hey, Sevika! We have a bride-to-be over here!”, Elora is now standing in her chair pointing to Mel for the performer—and every person in the club—to see. With a coy smirk on her face, Sevika rises from her performance chair and strolls towards the edge of the stage, the shrieks of the girls around her grow louder as Sevika moves closer to the group.

With her hands still cupping her face, Mel hopes that Sevika realizes the amount of social pain that she is in and searches for another victim. But she instead looms over the group, her confident gaze meeting Mel’s. The bronze and pink lighting creates a halo around her as she holds her hand out in invitation.  

Dear god… Mel knows she shouldn’t, but how can she say no?

As Mel takes Sevika’s hand, she realizes hers are far more damp and shaky in comparison. Nonetheless, the performer leads her new catch to the chair in the middle of the stage. The crowd screams, but Mel’s group can be heard above them all. Mel slowly settles into the chair. Sevika then leans over her, their faces mere centimeters apart. Mel’s deep browns focus on Sevika’s clear greys. She’s never seen eyes so intense yet so beautiful. The performer brings Mel’s hand to her lips and places a shy kiss on her knuckle.

“May I have this dance, Princess?”, she says.

How is every part of this woman sexy?

Mel realizes she may have spoken too soon as the music shifts from Bobby Valentino to Fergie. In an instant, Sevika slams one muscular leg on the arm of the chair and makes exaggerated hip-thrusts towards Mel, poking out her butt extra hard for the crowd behind her. Mel shrieks and covers her face, which she bets has gone dark purple from sheer embarrassment. Sevika then turns around, grabs either side of the chair, and proceeds to give Mel a lap dance. The word “princess” has never suited her so perfectly, as Mel had no idea what to do with her hands or her body. How are you supposed to behave when someone is shaking their ass on your midriff?

Mel chooses to shriek louder, spurts of laughter interrupting her screams of shock.

By the time the performer finishes. Mel is crying with laughter and waving her hands in front of her face. She can hear Elora shouting “Get it, Mel!” over the applause of the audience. One large hand grabs Mel’s waist as another grabs her hand. Before she is led off the stage, the performer turns Mel around to face her. The woman, Mel now notices, stands a head taller than her. With a gaze of genuine concern, Sevika asks “You’re good, right?”.

“Y-yes”, Mel doesn’t know why she stutters. “I’m okay, I had fun.”

“Good,” Sevika’s eyes takes in the entirety of Mel’s face, as if there weren’t one hundred other people in the room. “Room 17.”

And with that, Mel is led off the stage.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Any other day, Mel would think throwing back shot after shot would be brash and messy. She prefers to lightly sip on something sweet to allow for the gradual, methodical effects of alcohol to swoon her mind and body. But this isn’t any other day and she doesn’t have time for gradual or methodical; so she throws back at least 5 shots of tequila. Her face sours as she sucks on the provided lime slice, not at the flavor, but at what she is about to do.

“Girls, I’m going to be gone for a while, but I’ll come back… soon… probably”, Mel looks over to her group, and they’re giving her suggestive looks back. “Oh, come on, don’t judge! I’m not gonna do anything, I’m just having some fun!”

Nobody says a word.

“And she’s the one that invited me, so—”

One of her friends cackle, “Go ahead and have your fun, babe!” Mel searches for Elora to provide an opinion, but she is already on the dance floor back against the pelvis of the muscular, red-headed security guard.

Past the bar and to the left of the stage is the dimly lit hallway that Mel noticed when she first entered the club. Although the entrance sported translucent curtains, there was nothing substantial to bar anyone from entry. Mel parts the soft fabric and searches the plaques above the doors—which were merely beads hanging from a doorframe-- for her destination.

4…

6…

12…

16…

She turns her body to the left. 17.

As Mel stood in front of the doorway of temptation, she was hit with a sudden reality: What the fuck am I doing? Before she can turn on her heels and rejoin her party, a low voice calls from within the room: “Come in, Princess.”

“That’s not my name.”

“Hardly matters, does it?” Mel is already five steps in the room, so obviously it doesn’t matter.

“Why did you invite me here?”

“Why did you come?” Sevika pulls a drag from a cigar Mel did not notice until now. Mel usually hates the smell of tobacco, but this scent was less aversive and more sweet.

“To…um… talk I guess”

“Talk?” Sevika laughs. “Well, come talk over here, darling”. She pats the empty space next to her on the sofa.

Mel sits and she finds the sofa dangerously too small. There is no avoiding Sevika’s intense eye-contact. Her palms begin to sweat, and her heart quickens in pace, but she forces herself to not show any outward emotions. Sevika looks comfortable, actually, more than comfortable as her eyes travel across Mel’s frozen body like a novel map; her eyes lingering at destinations she would love to explore.

“I’m getting married soon”, Mel says as more of a reminder for herself rather than a direct statement to Sevika.

“So I’ve heard,” Sevika flicks ash off the edge of her cigar. “Come here.”

Mel reluctantly obeys, curling herself to fit in between Sevika’s legs. “Are you happy”, Sevika asks through a puff of smoke.

“Of course I’m happy.”

“I don’t know a lot of happy women that accepts invitations from a dancer,” Sevika chuckles. Mel’s grows hot. “But, hey, we don’t have to think about it.” The hand that wasn’t holding the cigar moves from the back of the sofa to Mel’s knee, and from Mel’s knee to her inner thigh below her dress; her thumb caressing the bit of space leading to her vaginal folds.

Mel reacts in a way that she shouldn’t. Her breathing hitches as her heart skips several beats. Her hips jerk slightly upwards, as if reaching for a certain sensation from Sevika’s touch. Her hand rushes to Sevika’s to move her hand away, but Sevika remains firm in her position.

“I invited you back here, because I thought you were interesting”, the daring woman stifles what’s left of her cigar in the ashtray on the adjacent table. She brings that metallic hand to rest on Mel’s arm as her other hand moves closer to a dangerous zone.  “Out of every woman I’ve seen pass through this place, you’re the most beautiful.” Her thumb lightly presses at Mel’s clit, still hidden behind the thin fabric of her underwear. “You’re the most polished. What are you doing in a place like this?”

Mel struggles to catch her breath but manages to find her voice, “I-um-my friends brought me here. For fun.”

Sevika’s lips trail Mel’s ear. Her breath breezes her cheeks, doing very little to dissipate the burning beneath Mel’s skin. “Is this fun?” Sevika is now palming at Mel’s core, causing her to gasp in both surprise and relief.

“Huh? I asked you a question.” The edge of her palm rubs harder. Mel presses her body further against Sevika’s, one hand instinctively anchoring the back of the stronger woman’s neck. Sevika breathes a laugh in Mel’s ear sending a ripple effect to her clit. “Come on, Princess. Tell me what you want.”

Mel’s grip tightens and her body presses further into Sevika, her ass creating friction at Sevika’s sensitive area. Sevika groans. “Oh, yeah?” Her fingers breach the lining of her panties and slowly fingers at Mel’s clit. Mel’s eyes flutter shut and a moan escapes from her mouth.

She knows this is wrong. She needs to stop. We need to stop.

“We can’t…” Mel’s voice is barely above a whisper.

 “What?” Sevika’s finger continues to rub at a breathtaking pace, barely allowing time for Mel to produce a full sentence. The smaller woman attempts to find her voice, but she’s too far gone in the sea of pleasure and desire. She knows she needs to stop, but she wants a release. She wants Sevika to fill the gaping hole in her life that’s been aching to be filled.

Mel grabs Sevika’s wrist. Sevika teeth grips her earlobe. She grunts, “Let go, Princess. This is what you came here for.” Mel’s ashamed of the noise that she makes.

“Mel?”

Both women spring from their positions, as if they were caught in a crime. Mel rises from the sofa and looks to the doorway. Luckily, the familiar voice did not enter the room but instead called from the hallway.

“Hey, Mel. Anteria just threw up and uh… yeah we gotta go… she’s not doing too well”, Elora is still drunk, but from what Mel can tell she is still the most responsible one of the group.

“Alright. I’ll be there, in a moment.” Mel brushes the guilt from her pure white dress and leaves Sevika on the sofa. The other woman doesn’t seem bothered; she’s already lit another cigar and is leaning so far back that her head almost hangs upside down on the edge of the sofa. Before she can leave, without thinking properly, Mel turns around and says, “It was… fun.”

Sevika pulls a long drag from her cigar and expends a cumulus cloud of smoke. “You know where to find me, Mel.”

And with that, the so-called princess follows her best friend to retrieve the rest of her group, temporarily discarding the potential key to her life’s dilemma.

[words-and-yearning]

TikTok’s gone. I’m now reconnecting with my roots

[words-and-yearning]

Spotlight

(Disclaimer: I’m in theatre, not stagecraft. I have no idea what to call certain things tell me if I made any mistakes...please don’t judge me)

Being this high has never been scary. As a puny sophomore, maybe having the entire view of the house and stage 45 feet below her was a little nerve-wracking. But as a senior, Kyoka Jirou had finally developed an immunization to heights. Besides, somebody in stagecraft had to fulfill the terrifying duty of spotlight operator, whose only requirement is to always have the burning spotlight on the current star of the show: Momo Yaoyorozu.

Jirou has no problem having the glowing prodigy as her main focus, but the way her beauty radiates perfectly from center stage proves to be a problem for maneuvering the spotlight. Her clammy hands attempt to slip from the clamps and her racing heart ricochets through her bones and rattles her body. The white circle slightly shakes around Momo, and Jirou is aware of the warning look from her partner Kaminari. But can you blame her, though? The kind cardinal of Yaoyorozu’s white polka-dotted dress creates a beautiful mix with her cream-colored skin. Not the hide the fact that the retro, 60′s look fits her like a damn glove. Perfect seas of raven hair spill down her back, some strands brush the quiet blush her cheeks. Others tickle her cherry-stained lips as the most beautiful sound passes through them. Jirou’s body melts as Momo’s voice reaches her ears: smooth as silk.

[The day started ordinary, boys walking by]

This musical definitely is not within Jirou’s top 50, but the way her girlfriend performs the part of Lela makes the play seem like its right off-broadway.

[It was the same old story, too fresh or too shy]

Dark eyes flicker towards Jirou’s, flashing the sweetest yet most wicked smile ever to be seen on a pretty face. The spotlight wiggles some more, earning a pinch from Kaminari and a: “Keep it together, dumbass”. Don’t you think she’s trying?!

[I’m not the kind to fall for a guy who flashes a smile that goes on for miles]

Momo, Jirou thinks, is truly a star. The spotlight only offers the audience proper sight, the girl is enchanting all by herself. She doesn’t need a stage. Or excessive stage makeup. Or a fancy dress. Hell, she could perform on the streets with a dirty face and ripped cargo pants and still attract a crowd of admirers. Sometimes, Jirou wonders how a girl like that could have ever fallen for a girl like... well... a girl like herself.

[Don’t usually swoon, but I’m over the moon]

In Jirou’s mind, she’s not a likable person. Well, she’s definitely a friend-able person, and a likable person, but not a like-likable person. She doesn’t understand how she ended up with Momo in the first place. She doesn’t understand what Momo even sees in her. Jirou can’t even think of a moment where she’s sparkled half as much as her girlfriend does on a daily basis! Also, her facial features are plain; the only time she wears makeup is when she’s feeling more gothic than usual. And, as Mineta commented, she doesn’t have the goodies to make up for her lack of attractiveness. So what is it about Jirou that stands out to Momo?

“Look up, Kyoka”, Denki smirks. Jirou snaps her head up, thinking that the spotlight was somewhere off stage or something. But the spotlight is perfectly fine, the problem is the actress that’s in it. It seems like she’s completely forgotten that she has a full house watching her, instead, her eyes are trained on Jirou. They bore into her soul, yet they glimmer like stars. As if she’s expecting her girlfriend to be watching her. Hoping, almost. Jirou smiles and shakes her head. How foolish those thoughts were. Obviously, she’s something special to Momo if it has her staring at her like a gem every four seconds.

[And now I’m falling for ya, falling for ya]

But Jirou does wonder what that thing is.

[Can’t hold on any longer and now I’m falling for you]

Momo points a polished finger up at Jirou. Some heads in the audience turn upwards, but they cannot see who the lead is pointing at. Jirou’s heart stops. Her girlfriend smirks then grabs the microphone (that’s turned off, it's just a prop) from the stand and spins and falls gracefully into the arms of Todoroki-- as rehearsed.

Jirou focuses on her duty, maneuvering the spotlight just in time with Momo’s fluid movements. The play continues, and every once in a while Momo will flash a smile towards Jirou, who will react as if its the first time they’ve made eye contact.

Both girls wait anxiously for the finale, where they can finally reunite and get away from the spotlight.

[words-and-yearning]

Midoriya’s notebook

Almost done, I just need to add a little more blush to her cheeks...there! Izuku Midoriya glances one last time at the girl across the field then back at the portrait. He nods and closes his notebook, satisfied. The bright-eyed brunette continues to talk with her friends, unaware of the lovesick boy admiring her from a few yards away. Completely smitten, Midoriya reopens his notebook and grabs for another pen from his backpack. First, he determines where her eyes, nose, and mouth will be by sketching a T-shape. Then, he makes a round shape, with extra emphasis on the cheeks. From there he continues to add facial features: her glimmering eyes, her cute (in his opinion) nose, her ever-so-contagious smile. He gets so lost in his work that he doesn’t notice the model for his art standing right in front of him. 

“Hey, Deku!”, a high-pitched voice calls as a hand waves in front of him. Midoriya hastily shuts his notebook and snaps his head upwards. 

“H-hey Ochaco! What’s up?! Whatcha doin’!”

“The girls and I were going to ask Kaminari to rub two balloons together while using his quirk, just to see what would happen, you know? And I was wondering if you-”, Uraraka looks down at the notebook strangled in Midoriya’s grasp and furrows her eyebrows. “You never told me you got a new notebook.”

His hands grow clammy around the cursed thing. Dammitdammitdammitdammit... “Oh, yeah! I-uh this is for sketching and stuff. My hero analysis notebook is in my backpack. I like to draw sometimes, so I bought sketchbook for doodling!” Stop talking. Stop talking. Stop talking. 

Uraraka’s face lit up and a smile stretched across her face. “Ooooh, what kind of things do you like to draw?”

“Things I like.” Oh my God, SHUT UP!

Time slows. Something sparkles in the depths of Uraraka’s eyes, drawing Midoriya closer. “What kind of things?”, she whispers, but it almost sounds like she knows the answer. 

Deku’s grasp around the notebook loosens. He stutters, noticing the light rose color rise from his crush’s cheeks and feeling the warm emotion take over him as well. His eyes find a home in her pools of deep ebony, making no effort to break the contact because if he does, he fears he will never get this feeling again. She’s so close. 

She’s so close. All I need to do is reach out to her. 

He takes his bottom lip in between his teeth, considering, before murmuring, “I have something to tell you”.

She nods. She nods as if she knows.

She’s right here. She’s so close. Just reach out.

A gulp. “I think-”, a deafening boom interrupts his confession. Soon followed by a chorus of “OMG”’s and “YOU FUCKING DUMBASS” and “I CAN’T BELIEVE THAT HAPPENED”.

Both kids jump and snap their heads towards the commotion. The class 1-A girls are crowding around Kaminari, who lies on the ground with a stupid look on his face and two thumbs up. Midoriya can practically hear the noise he’s making even from far away. Rubber and smoke fly about the laughing children, drawing Ochaco’s interest. As if the conversation never happened, she quickly waves bye and sprints towards to group. Growing farther and farther away from Midoriya. He sighs and puts his notebook and pens away.

Maybe next time.

[words-and-yearning]

Middle school Adam: *starting lovingly at Shiro* J'aimerais être une de tes larmes pour naître dans tes yeux, vivre sur tes joues et mourir sur tes lèvres...

Middle school Shiro: *blushes violently* ...wtf

[words-and-yearning]

Does uhhhh anyone have any good romella (allura×romelle) fanfics cuz a bitch needs it. And if not I need some shadam (shiro×adam).

[words-and-yearning]

Lotor listening to Daddy Issues by The Neighbourhood

[words-and-yearning]

Pidge: Is Lance okay?

Hunk: No, he's still sad about Allura...

Pidge: Ah, man. It looks like he got worse

Lance, wearing air pods and dancing and sobbing violently: I STILL SEE YOUR SHADOWS IN MY ROOM CANT TAKE BACK THE LOVE THAT I GAVE YOU-

[words-and-yearning]

Lotor: hey dad, do you love me?

Zarkon: not in the slightest

Lotor: MMMnnNnnMmmnnn reALLY OH MY GOD

[words-and-yearning]

Keith, drawing his blade: Why did you do it

Allura, drawing her whip: It didn't matter at the time

Keith, tears streaming down his face in anger: OF COURSE IT MATTERED BUT YOU WERE TOO BLINDED TO SEE HOW MUCH IT HURT ME!!!

Shiro, entering the scene: WHOA WHOA WHAT'S GOING ON?!?!?

Allura: It's nothing Shir-

Keith, bawling: SHE GAVE HUNK AND PIDGE GOODNIGHT KISSES BUT NOT ME

[words-and-yearning]

Pillow Fort

(Day three [late again]; Hunay)

"C'mon babe, pleeeaaassee!!!"

"I can't right now," Hunk says over his shoulder as he seasons the raw chunks of meat in front of me. "Unless you guys want to eat at exactly midnight, which I know you don't, I need to put these steaks in the oven right now."

"But daddy", their son, Juniper, groans with impatience. "You cook all day at the restaurant."

"Yeah daddy", their daughter and also Juniper's twin sister Delilah agrees. "And you mommy never have time for us anymore because you guys are always working and working and-"

"But we hung out yesterday," Hunk defends as the oven beeps, indicating it's done preheating.

"Yeah we watched a movie, but you and mommy fell asleep in the middle of it," Delilah pouts. "Please daddy! We built this fort for you!"

"Please daddy! It will be so much fun!", Juniper beams as he races outside the small pillow fort to grab flashlights.

"Please daddy", Shay purrs and flutters her eyelashes. She giggles when Hunk gives her a THE look, the same look he gave her when he knew he was going to give her children.

Hunk pops the steaks in the oven and washes the drops of blood and seasoning from his hands. "Alright, alright, I'm coming." The twins cheer and hands both their mother and father a flashlight.

The pillow fort is nothing grand. Just a ginormous blanket (most likely the one for the master bed) being supported by uneven sticks and poles found around the house, and those sticks being supported by pillows at the bottom. Hunk and Shay try their hardest not to ruin the small creation that the 8-year-old twins are so happy to share with them.

When everyone is settled in and slightly comfortable, Juniper reaches into his pocket to reveal several packets full of what it seems to be plastic stars. He hands one packet to each person and puts the extras back in his pocket. "Here'ya go!"

"What are these, Juni," Shay inquires.

"I don't know. Auntie Pidge and Uncle Matt made them!"

Hunk and Shay peers at the packets with more caution than question. "So they gave you explosives, again?"

"Juniper, what have I told you and Delilah about accepting treats from strangers and the Holts."

"I know! But Auntie Pidge and Uncle Matt said these are really cool, and that you guys will tell me about space when you see it!" Juniper once again beams at his parents, who have no choice but to comply and hope for the best. "Ok, so, they said to open the packet and squeeze each of the stars." They did just that. After waiting a few seconds, nothing started happening. Then, slowly the stars start to shine, each a different vibrant color. That wasn't all, for the stars then started lifting themselves into the air inside of the fort, illuminating the faces of the fascinated family.

"Wow", gasps Delilah.

"I guess Pidge and Matt really came through this time", Hunk comments, Shay smiles at him.

"So are you guys gonna tell us about space?" Juniper asks, him and his sister already getting comfortable on the excess pillows they found lying around the house.

The rest of that night in that cramped pillow tent/fort combo, Hunk and Shay told stories of all the adventures they had when they were in space. They even shared how they met and their heartfelt reunion, and how Hunk and his mother had already picked out a wedding ring for the future. The twins asked about Voltron, their aunts and uncles, and even about the Blade of Montana.

With droopy eyes, Delilah mumbles, "Will I ever be a paladins like you, daddy? Or have magic like you, mommy?"

"Maybe one day pumpkin", Shay assures. Delilah and Juniper nods their heads and drift off into sleep.

"Way to lie to the kids," Hunk chuckles.

"Way to burn the food", Shay retorts and shifts her gaze from the kids to the smoke emerging from the oven.

"Oh no no no no," Hunk rushed out of the pillow fort to rescue his creations, and as he does Shay glances at hers. She never thought she would have a family, like ever, but as she sits there in that tiny fort with the now lowering stars and the sleeping children and clumsy husband, she begins to feel grateful once again that the stars in the sky brought them together.

(Challenge prompt by bluberri_pomchi on Instagram)

(School sucks that's why I'm late and so far behind)