#like... who says he has to pick the role YOU want him to have??

[k00sblogger]

Summary: When your audition doesn't go as planned, you realize that you'd do absolutely anything to get the role you want.

Warnings: age gap, hoseok kinda sus, messy blowjob, mentions of other sexual acts, dirty talk, pwp

Pairing: instructor!hoseok x ballerina!reader

🔗: m.list

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"God I feel so stiff." you grunt out, bent over as you stretch your tired hamstrings. The week before this one was complete hell, and since you'd spent so much time in the studio your muscles were in pain.

It was audition week now, the week everyone was so eager for. On audition night you'd either be going out for ice cream with your friends in celebration, or sulking in your bed in disappointment.

You'd been practicing for this role for what felt like your entire life. The role of odette, black swan.. white swan.. whatever you wanna call it.

Some people may say it's basic, or that swan lake is played out- but you absolutely loved it. You remember looking at the older ballerinas as a child and wishing it could be you. Now, it finally was. Well almost- you'd only feel complete if you obtained the role of the black swan. Which you were determined to do.

Two loud claps pull you out of your thoughts, and you immediately stand to your feet when you see that its your instructor. Your friends do the same- just purely out of respect.

Ms. Bahr may be old, but she was never one to let herself be walked all over. Especially not by dancers from her company.

"I'd like you all to meet our guest for the.. day." her voice awkwardly trails off as she gestures toward the door. In walks a man, who looks quite close to your age. He's dressed nicely, & walks in with his arms crossed as he scans over everyone.

Well damn, you knew if he was anything near as stuck up as he looked, you hated him already.

"Hello, i'm mr. jung." he says, setting his bag down but still keeping his eye trained on all of us. When we hear the door slam, everyone's head snaps the opposite way, and we see that Ms. Bahr has excused herself.

Very weird, she was never one to be outside of the room during a practice. During audition week especially.

"I advise that you focus on me, because after this week i'll be officially taking Ms. Bahr's spot as head instructor." gasps, heard all around the room. One of your friends liza stares at you in shock, and you return the look.

People chatter amongst themselves at the news, it was surprising to say the least. Why wouldn't she tell us herself? Why is she letting a random guy take her spot? You had many questions, all that probably would never be answered.

"Now! With that being said-" a sly smile is on his face as he picks up a a paper- studying the sheet for a moment before speaking again. "If your not trying out for the role of the black swan, please step back and continue warming up."

Only four students are left standing, including you. You give a side eye to your main competition here, Jessica bush. You roll your eye at the slight sight of her, you absolutely hated the girl.

It wasn't jealousy- period point blank. It was just her atitude, it was fucking horrible. You wanted the role for yourself of course, but it would feel damn good to beat her and finally put her in her place.

Mr. Jung takes a good look at all of you, locking eyes with you for a split second before moving his eyes on to the girl next to you. He gives a nod of approval before setting down the paper with your names on it.

"I'd like to see you all perform the variation you've been taught yeah?" you hadn't even put your points shoes on yet. You curse yourself for what you're about to have to do, terrible first impression.

"Uhm- i need to get my points shoes.. sir." you itch at your arm at the tension when he looks at you, a annoyed glare on his face.

"Hurry up, go on." he says, allowing you permission to scurry over to your duffel bag.

What a prick.

*:.。..。.。o○*:.。..。.。o○*:.。..。.。o○*:.。..。.。

"Alright, not too bad." he mutters, slightly clapping as you and the others breathe heavily. This variation always felt much harder when you had someone watching you do it.

"I suppose you're all free to go, come in prepared tomorrow for auditions." there's a collective nod before everyone goes about their own business, talking as they all leave one by one.

By the time you sit down to start taking off your toe pads, the room is already empty besides you and him. It was a little awkward, but you refused to move faster just because he was in here with you.

A pained hiss leaves your lips when you see the bruise forming on your big toe, sighing at the sight of the mark. You don't pay much mind to it, sliding your sock right over it and slipping your shoes on afterward.

"You need new toe pads." your hear a voice behind you, and its him, the new instructor. You give awkward smile as you look up, playfully scoffing at his words. "Yeah, guess i do."

Standing to your feet, you sling your bag over your shoulder- muttering a quiet bye to the man as you begin to walk away. Unfortunately, his hand on your arm prevents you to walk any further.

"I think you're right for the role." he suddenly says, and your eyes widen in surprise. How could he decide that so easily when he's only seen you perform a short variation once? For gods sake he just got here.

You weren't ungreatful though, in fact you were very glad he noticed your efforts.

"Really?" you ask, shock evident in your voice as it grows louder. He nods his head, walking away from you now and back over to his personal belongings. Your right on his toes, assuming that he wants you to follow him.

"How could you know when you've only seen me dance once?" you question him, genuinely confused about what he could be thinking. This was such an important role, he'd be stupid to cast it so easily.

"I have a good eye.." his voice trails off with a suspicious chuckle as his gaze returns to your face. Your features were etched with so much confusion, but he could see you were excited.

"I think you're a beautiful girl.. y/n right?" your smile slowly fades, sensing the weird tone in his voice. "Ehm.. yeah" the excitement empties from your body when he stalks towards you, eyes refusing to leave yours.

He circles you as if you were prey, arms crossed the same way they were when he walked into the room. "Your old enough to know.. sometimes in life we have to do things to get what we want."

What the fuck was he saying? Your face scrunched up in annoyance and confusion, you just hoped this wasn't him flirting with you.

You let out a sigh when his cold fingers trail down your bare arm, feeling his body heat as he stands close behind you. "I can get you that role." you feel his lips on the back of your neck and it makes you want to throw up and disgust.

He barely even knew you! And even if he did- it's out of the question and inappropriate. "I can get you that role." he repeats again, only this time he presses his obvious boner into your ass.

That's when you move, picking up your bag that you hadn't even noticed fell to the ground. "Are you fucking insane?!" you shout, and he looks at you as if you were the one who did something wrong.

"Your disgusting!" you scream again, voice echoing through the room. You could only hope everyone had left the building as you rush out of the room.

"You'll regret that." he yells after you.

Fuck off.

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AUDITION DAY

The week had went by in a flash, and tryouts had come much sooner than you thought they would.

After the situation with your new instructor, you avoided him like the plague- even switching directions when you'd see him walking around the building. You noticed him staring at times, but you did your best to ignore it.

You hadn't told anyone about what happened either, not even your closest friends. What you didn't want was for it to effect your audition process, not after you worked so hard for this very moment.

The voice of your friend lila causes you to zone back in, & you can't help the smile that falls over your face when you see her walking towards you with flowers.

"Lila.." you say, giving her a big hug before she can even hand the flowers over. "You didn't have to.. i didn't even get you anything.." you mutter, pulling out of the hug with a saddened look on your face.

You appreciated her at times like these, and sometimes even felt like a shitty friend when she'd go out of her way to do special things for you. If you ever lost her you think you'd literally spiral out of control.

"Good luck on your audition." she says, her face full of joy as she gives a comforting squeeze to your arm.

You don't get the chance to thank her because the door opens, and in comes Mr.Jung . Everyone stands when he arrives, the same way they would when Ms. Bahr would enter.

Now that you know the real him, it kind of sucks that everyone likes him so much. It also sucks that you have to keep what happened to yourself for now, but you planned to confess as soon as auditions were over.

"Alright everyone, we'll begin black & white swan auditions now- so if that's not you please push to the back of the room." Again, four students are left standing- only this time it's much more nerve racking.

You were used to the whole class watching auditions happen, but this was different. You'd been waiting for this for years... if you fucked up now you don't think you'd ever forgive yourself.

"Ready?" he asks, staring at all of you as you spread out and get into your starting position.

Ready as you'll ever be.

~~~~

Needless to say the audition went great. You don't remember messing up even once, and even a couple other students came up to your afterwards just to tell you how good your audition looked.

You watched the rest of the auditions in excitement and confidence, happy that you'd done so good. Usually, you'd let jessica's little glares towards you ruin your mood- but not today.

An entire hour passes before auditions finally finish, and you're all sent into another room. There's chattering amongst everyone, different talk of who they think will make black swan.

You try your best to ignore it, sticking your headphones in for some extra noise. You get a nice thirty minutes of relaxation before it's finally time.

Ms. Bahr makes a appearance just to tell everyone results are posted- and as soon as she says it everyone's rushing out of the room. Your the last one to leave, taking a few deep breaths as you slowly make your way to the poster.

And then- your excitement crumbles when you see mr. jung and jessica hugging at the end of the hall. No way, no no no no no. Your footsteps get faster at the sight, and you finally come to a anxious hault when you see the list.

{Black/White swan: Jessica bush}

You wanted to cry when you read it, but you couldn't. At least not when your instructor was looking at you with the cruelest grin on his face.

He did this on purpose.

You danced beautifully, no one could tell you any different. You weren't being stuck up, but you genuinely felt that today was the best time you'd ever performed it. Your hard work felt like a waste, all because you rejected his advances.

You went home utterly disappointed in yourself, wishing that you could turn back the time and tell him yes. You'd do anything for that role, literally anything.

That's when you found yourself pondering your options, and finally- you came up with a solution.

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THE NEXT DAY

You couldn't believe you were doing this. You'd stood in front of your instructors door for a good five minutes before finally gathering the courage to even knock.

He welcomed you in as if nothing had happened, a smile on his face as he gestures for you to sit down. You obviously sit with no complaints, not wanting to piss him off when you were already about to ask for something huge.

"What brings you in?" his tone is very much condescending, and you have to bite you tongue to prevent a scowl from plastering on your face.

"I..I wanna take your offer." you say quietly, foot constantly tapping against the floor as you await a response. He ticks his tongue as he looks at you, before bursting into a fit of laughter.

"Don't you think it's too late?" he mentions, pointing his long finger to the paper on his table. You lean over to look at it, seeing the sheet of paper with jessica's name on it. It makes you want to throw up.

"With all due respect sir, you did this to spite me." you don't bite you tongue any longer, you know the motive behind this. He was a cruel man, but oh so clever.

He chuckles at your words, shaking his head as he stands from his chair. He slowly makes his way to the door, twisting the lock and then turning back to face you. "You really want that role huh?"

You hated this, you hated that he had the upper hand. But you also knew this was your decision, and you didn't have to do this. You had every right and the will to walk right out of this room and deal with the fact you won't ever be black swan.

Except, you didn't want to do that.

"I do.." you mutter, gaze now at your feet as he comes closer to you to tilt your chin upwards. He looks at you with fake pitty, somewhat happy that you'd come crawling back to him.

"Get on your knees." he commands, and you oblige him without another word. He licks his lips to moiston them at the sight of you, ready to pleasure him and get exactly what you've always wanted.

"You know what to do, you want the role?" he asks, and your hands shake with anxiety as you nod your head. "Then take it."

Alright, you could do this. Give him head, easy peasy.. right?

Your shaky hands are evidence of your nervousness as you undo the zipper on his pants, and when you see the bulge in his boxers you question why he's already hard? What was he doing before you got here?

When tuck your hands into the waistband of his boxers, he sighs at the feeling of your cold fingers on his skin. You try your best to not look at him when his length finally pops out, red tip right in front of your eyes.

He was bigger than you thought he'd be, but it was no wonder that he had no shame when coming onto you the first time around.

You didn't even realize you were gawking at it until he finally said something. "Scared?" the question infuriates you, and causes you to put the length of him in your mouth immediately.

You weren't scared of him. Fuck no.

He groans at the feeling of your mouth wrapped tight around him, keeping a tight grip on his desk as you bob your head up and down.

He smirks at the way your making him so messy, not caring that your getting spit all over his pelvis and even in his small happy trail. "Fuck- sluttin' me out aren't you?" You ignore his words, set on the fact this was purely for your role.

You wanted it, bad.

You pop his dick out of your mouth with heavy breaths, now swirling your tongue around his tip. You trace every part of it, the veins, the tip, everything. You can tell he likes it, because he finally allows his head to lean back.

You couldn't believe yourself, all of your previous fear had vanished from your body. Hoseok could tell too, because you were sucking the life out of him.

"Shit, just wanna bend you over-" you moan around his dick, not able to speak since you've shoved his dick right back down your throat. You're gagging now, but you don't pull away- determined to get what you wanted out of this.

Your hand is covered in saliva, all from you jerking off what you can take inside of your mouth. Or what you thought you couldn't take- because soon both of his hands move snug to the back of your head for more leverage.

He fucks your mouth with a punishing pace, smirking when he hears your little muffled whimpers and gags. "Love that shit- gonna look so pretty on stage." his words wouldve made you smile if your mouth wasn't so full- it only confirmed that the role was no longer jessicas.

It belonged to you, and you only.

"Where you want me to cum, hm?" he pulls out of your mouth breifly so you can speak, slapping the wet tip on your messy cheek. "On my tits- please."

You were way too into this, hurriedly lowering your top right under your breasts. They sit perfectly, and they look even better when he finally rubs himself to a orgasm, his milky white release coating your hard nipples.

"God- so fuckin hot." the words leaving his mouth sounded foreign, and you couldn't believe you were wet. You no longer denied the fact that you enjoyed what had just happened, it was a win win.

When you go to clean yourself off, he stops you- taking it upon himself to lift your top right over your still cum covered breasts. "Gonna go home with my cum on you, that'll finish up the deal."

You go home happy, going to sleep excited for the upcoming weeks as you were officially the black swan. Jessica on the other hand was feeling so many emotions at once. She was angry, dissapoonted, and overall confused.

She wondered why her role had been snatched from her and given to someone who didn't even deserve it. She'd done everything she could for that role.. including fuck her instructor.

Hoseok had promised her the same fate, that he'd give her the role regardless of her audition as long as she gave him some pussy. So she did so, without thinking of the consequences.

He'd played the both of you, and neither of you had any idea.

#bts smut #bts fanfiction #bts oneshot #bts #bts fanfic #hoseok x reader #hoseok fanfic #hobi smut #jhope smut #jhope fanfic #hobi fanfic #hoseok oneshot #jhope x reader #jhope x you #bts jhope

[stromuprisahat]

"I didn’t know whether to laugh or scream."

Siege and Storm- Chapter 15

Oh nein! Mal has issues! With consequences of his actions he should be grateful for, and his girl not sharing every waking thought with him, when her worst worries spring from his most hated topics- the Darkling and her role in politics.

And Alina once again feels responsible for his feelings.

Yeah, this would have a bit more weight, if Alina didn't do it only for appearances' sake. Or if she granted the position due to merit, not random pick of what she views as the lowest low. Or if she didn't continue speaking as if she were a narrator of wildlife documentary, describing a new species of animal that just appeared.

Not necessarily, but it's one of Alina's less far-fetched deductions.

Aleksander could've been aware of David's fascination with Morozova's work. He could've picked the most skilled in bonework or the one most experienced in forging amplifiers- they're supposed to be rare, so not many Fabricators will have that.

*mumbles* And somehow we're to believe this pragmatic man chose to follow Alina, because... ? She's the good one, or whatever?!

*chants* Double agent Kaminsky, double agent Kaminsky!

Alina: Why would you want to kill this man! How horrible! At least question him first!

She would make a delightful morally flexible character, if she were acknowledged as such, and embracing that quality.

Says who? Zoya?

He KeEpS mE So BuSy!

Saints, Alina, you can't believe everything people say about themselves!

Alina: I'm not sure my three months of training are enough, but I can do like two things with my powers, so let's focus on increasing them further AND on the mythical forbidden art that created my goal no. 1 in the first place. I bet nothing can go wrong...

Only signing? Not reading to get into picture? And who prepares them?!

Bureaucracy, baby!

Welcome to responsibility!

I would sympathize with Alina much more, if she showed genuine interest in those she doesn't know. If her motivation weren't merely "Do the opposite of (what I think) the Darkling did". I she truly believed in her own philosophy.

Shocking!

People forced to sit next to half-strangers they're not used to interact with, create unpleasant atmosphere!

My work experience considered- you're lucky there's no visible enmity- you could've made the wrong people sit next to each other and tableware could've ended up in wrong bodyparts.

Also: How is Nadia sitting next to Marie? I thought breaking up already existing friend groups was a point of this whole exercise.

They're not gifts, Nikolai. They're just your father's property, but let's remember the Darkling didn't wait for the Queen to request a specific one's service, and turned it into a gesture of his own thoughtfulness. Fuck his strategems!

Alina's misplaced sensibilities are incredibly frustrating.

She wants to lead Second Army, but not order them, not assign them tasks directly, because that would somehow make her a bad person, instead of efficient leader.

What if no one will volunteer? What if weak, incompetent Squallers will? You don't look at special assignment and think- Yeah, whoever wants to do it... You PICK the most capable person with both sufficient skills AND suitable personality.

Awwww!

Poor granny deserves an Oscar!

#Grishaverse #S&S Chapter 15 #Alina Starkov #Second pseudoArmy #grishanalyticritical #Malyen Oretsev #Fedyor Kaminsky #Nikolai Lantsov #Baghra Morozova #self centred and paranoid #Siege and Storm #Grisha trilogy #V #books #quotes #Leigh Bardugo #anti Mal #anti Malina #anti Baghra

[twst-rose-prisms]

Twst boys and their respective Vocaloid songs

Part 2 of this post!

Characters: All NRC students Warning: Some of these songs contain angsty/dark themes or imply self-harm, however it's nothing too much as that's the nature of Vocaloid songs in general and I recommend you checking them out if you guys can!

Part 1 | Part 2

🕌 Scarabia 🕌

Kalim: Tondemo-Wonderz

This song is full of fun, excitement and upbeat, colorful beats that make you want to smile and dance along, just like the ball of sunshine Kalim he is! The song talks about embracing the unknown and excitement the world offers to us while also having fun, encouraging us to have faith in the wondrous possibilities, while also embracing the failure and mistakes with laughter and positivity. I’d say it’s a perfect song for Kalim, from the vibe to the lyrics!

“Even in this sort of era, We still believe in "wonders," no, no, no? Know! The adult's sharp, money-making memories Make us worry too much! I'm gonna go cross-eyed!” "Why?!" "Do it like this!!" I love everything! That's fine, isn’t it? In this plot to make everyone laugh I can call them rival monsters, right?! We live in a wild, awesome world.” “I reckon it's fine to have troubles you can't do a thing about! I make a pose like I'm gonna save everyone. How about this smile, it's not gonna crumble at all! Even if I fall 100 times, I'm like a phoenix. I won't get upset! Wan wan, too quick, three four! Everybody, showtime!” “Come on professor! This exam is so tough! Agh! Alright, done? Is it final? If I don't get 0 points, it's OK! Let's rain a shower of arrows on those true and false questions! Right and wrong answers are important memories." "There are days when I fail too. You still deny "wonders", no, no, no? Know! Before I'm taken to pieces, listen, wait! This slanted society is too on edge. Charge in, leap in, one more time! Are you ready?!”

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Jamil: Ghost City Tokyo

Like a ghost who is almost invisible to other’s eyes, Jamil used to do the same too, he always makes sure everything he does is at an average level so nobody will notice him. That’s why I picked this song for him, also because of the lyrics - he’s used to losing, to not be able to shine and stand out for the sake of others, and it’s not something he dreamt of at all. Also I think the city here can be interpreted as Scarabia too, because he still wants to be here despite everything that happened in Book 4.

“The lights of the brilliant shining city Shine down on me in stark contrast They mix with the neon colours changing and escaping from the spaces between those buildings" "I trade my time and this world And sink into the night” “It’s fine, someday it will all be fine How many days I’ve thought so, that have piled up on each other But even today, the me who fades into the Tokyo scenery all alone Seems like a ghost” “Even as I grow used to losing These important feelings that I haven't lost - When I held them close to myself, my tears fell suddenly Because I think I still want to Keep living in this city”

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👑 Pomefiore 👑

Vil: Cinema

This song is pretty self-explanatory with the lyrics, it’s like someone views their life as a movie, their story is like an unchanged script, yet they’re being satisfied with everything - they want to be the leading star, the protagonist of the movie. Being someone who always has to play the villain role, I picked this song for Vil because it just fits him so much with his backstory and his goal as a whole!

“A delusion of dawn Invaluable escapades and A misunderstood hero play-pretend Traffic's already jammed up now- Oh well, nothing I can do about that anyway” “No, it can't be this, not this. This is a bad fit for me I'm not suited for it- Should I quit it now, or— But that's not right, right! I wonder, when will I get to be The leading star of this show?” “We're not here yet, yet. This can't be the end, so If you're not suited for the role Then just rewrite the script! Look, for the most part, I'm sure it'll always just be me The leading star will only be me!” “The future I wanted to change has come. Whatever you like, however you like it, This is it. I made it here, all the way from the bottom. Just like a movie, this is my story.”

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Epel: Telecaster B-boy

A song talking about the struggle of growing up, trying to find one’s place in this vast world, the singer desires to be loved and appreciated but always gets misunderstood and underappreciated and also frustrated with society,  just like Epel himself. He hates being the stereotype, cliche thing. If you know his story and goal then this song is very fitting for him! Also the funky, youthful but somewhat fast beat and lyrics fit him very well too!

“The more I grow up DeDeDe The less I fit in, a vacant temple. The girl the life philosopher spoke to Turns into a bird … With just lip service PaPaPa I'll tie up my raggedy shoes … The boy whom a believer in digitization cursed Turns into wind …” “No matter how you look at it DeDeDe It's a stereo bias, sadistic The girl who sang like she was stung by a bee Turns into a flower... Even if you cover your ears PaPaPa Those guys' voices become loud The boy who got these words stabbed in his chest Turns back…” “In this world where I can't Even breathe for a bit Declaring a goodbye to reality Won't you just forgive us? We, the weak ones Let's meet up again somewhere”

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Rook: Liar Dance

Rook is a bit hard to find, but in my opinion this is the best song for him. It talks about a couple who both hide and lie to each other. But it also means that the singer’s POV is them knowing they’re a liar, a criminal just like other people. Rook himself is not an exception, he also lies and hides many things away even to his friends or someone like Vil. Also I think the lyrics fit him really well, with constant mention of love and lies many times throughout.

''Stolen? Just whatever do you mean?'' Feigning ignorance today as well Having made a vow, to you and you alone Declaring this loveless love of mine in front of you" "Stolen? Just whatever do you mean?" Committing myself to this performance, set lines and all Those memories we've desperately created and clung to, they blend together and feelings between us intensify” “Dance away liar This love has swelled up like a balloon let's turn it into a lie with the prick of a needle On the count of "I-love-you" “Dance away, liar It's too late to apologize We're already partners in this crime called "love" Who cares if there's no going back?”

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💀 Ignihyde 💀

Idia: All I Need are Things I Like

While there could be many other songs that fit Idia, I decided to pick this one because of the lyrics and overall meaning. The song talks about indulging solely into one’s interests and favorite thing everyday, almost every time without paying much attention to reality much at all. Even though the singer sounds happy and satisfied, they also sound lonely, deprived of energy and strength and also longing for actual companionship instead of coping up to the things that they like. It sounds like Idia himself after what happened to him and also his backstory!

"I don’t like weekdays, I like the weekend I don’t like work, I like going back to sleep It’s impossible to live on slacking like this My consciousness recedes" "I don’t like vegetables, I like hamburgers I don’t like barley tea, I like juice Don’t be sweet on me, but I like sweet tasting things My lifetime’s first page" "Only looking at things I like gradually my eyesight gets worse Only being filled with things I like gradually my mind gets duller" "I don’t like living things, I like machines I don’t like the real world, I like the virtual Your tastes were always biased deteriorating and ceasing to think" "Surrounded by the things I like I’ve become unforgiving to the things I don’t like Living only with the things I like I'm resented by someone, somewhere"

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Ortho: Near

This song is gentle, yet emotional and bittersweet, its meaning also fits Ortho and Idia + their relationship a lot if you take it into their backstory context too. At first, Ortho is just a robot that only acts according to how he was programmed but gradually, he starts acting outside his intended programming and learns his own sentience and emotions - just like the robot girl as the song progresses. Overall, I think this fits him a lot!

“Hey, Near. If I don't make fun of someone And if I won't be able to forgive myself How do you feel about This horrible person?" "Hey, Near. Watching other's strides Stepping out without a purpose How do you feel about this Dull person? Hey Near” “Hey, Near. I think living every day with a smile Is something natural How do you feel about This arrogant person?" "Things that do not take any form and cannot be predicted Will interfere with the calculation process" Even so" "Ah, I'll still continue to believe And ask you who doesn't have a heart Because your hand was So much warmer than mine”

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🐉 Diasomnia 🐉

Malleus: Hare wo Matsu

I feel like this song fits Malleus the most with how the lyrics constantly talk about one’s loneliness and about past’s memories. For Malleus, his biggest fear perhaps is his dearest, most cherished people leave his life, like Lilia - his guardian that raises him up ever since he’s still a little lizard or maybe even MC - his ever first friend that treats him so dearly despite his status or his fearful magic power unlike others who is afraid of him. Even the beat is also beautiful but sad, full of longing for your loved one when they leave - just like Malleus himself.

"I'm not getting tired of this morning, One that I've waited for. Very faintly, I'm laughing while appearing to be sorrowful, And wishing to completely forget you." "Because there's no end to this curse Of sleeplessness and the painful past. I'm singing a song in the morning glow, If only I could completely forget, it would end." "There's just one thing I can't yield, And still, without knowing the reason, I live, even now..." "Since I don't have a dream I want to protect, These are days with no answer, But that isn't kindness, isn't it?" "Look, since absolutely nothing hurts, It's alright," I say. Someday, when you'll be gone, ah~ Will I be living alone?”

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Lilia: Kanade Tomosu Sora 

I feel like this song fits Lilia the most in terms of the vibe, the lyrics that matched well with his backstory. This song, while sad, full of longing and reminiscent from the past yet it’s like a glimmer of hope somewhere in the deep, dark sea of sad memories. Lilia was the same too despite how we see him acting outwardly. He gives love to others, but he also needs love and hope. He went through events that could crush him easily and yet, he still stayed strong - for a whole 200+ years, for the sake of others. (I recommend checking out the 25ji, Night Code de version too!)

“Every time I trace back my memories, I feel as if I’m going to be crushed, yet Since I have no place to take refuge,  I just keep questioning myself over and over. Ah…” “There are too many things in my way,  It’s as if there are only things I can’t see Is it alright if I try touching it a little? I want to say it. Even though it might surely be impossible, I want to somehow. Hey, more; hey, more; I want to see more” “So I can turn the images I’ve found of your world still unknown to me Into song" "Blaming myself all this time,  I simply live and breathe but only just barely I’ve always shut it away in a cage I’m not asking for a plain, simple story. I simply wish to hear your voice” “It still hurts. Words keep tightening the cord round my neck, but... These eyes of mine I closed so gently as well, still hurt a little, but… I want to say it. Even though now, I still don’t know when it’ll be but someday for sure. Hey, more; hey, more; I want to see more”

-----------------------------------

Silver: Ice Drop

I think this song fits Silver a lot mostly because of the lyrics, and the deep sea could symbolize the dreams that he dives into in Book 7. Although it’s upbeat, the lyrics are full of longing and reminiscing of the past and also his father, but eventually move on and “grow up” from it.  Not to mention, you could even take it as a SilverMC song if you think about that aspect! But even if it's not in a romantic sense, it's still a song talking about how much the past affects us and how we long for our loved one even if it's just a memory, that's why to me this song is really for Silver!

“Even the memories of the past are merely a thousand-year tale I take a deep breath as I fall into the deep sea” “Uh- that voice of yours drenches my whole heart Tangled up and captivated by each other, we sing our unchanging love once more You, not letting go of your hands become a rule of mine It's a heart that will melt away the rusted last page That one and only magic will turn this world around” “I’ll be waiting. Inside my dream, I reach out my hand” “Uh- On this planet, I fell in love without sleeping I longed for you and hesitated what to do, but from now on, I'll grow up You, If it’s with you, I’ll dive in without hesitation”

-----------------------------------

Sebek: Kashika

Sebek was the hardest to find for me in the entire list mainly because while he has his own character, he doesn’t have too much depth but I tried my best and I think this song fits him the most! This song is powerful, full of willpower and hope towards tomorrow despite the hard, tough times. The song encourages us to keep living, even in the most uncertain moments, you need to cherish each moment of your life as well your living heartbeat, which represents the tenacity and perseverance of life. I feel like the energy as well the meaning of the song fits Sebek a lot overall for his character - with the desire to rise, stand up and protect he always have.

“When my quivering voice breathed life into a song, It was then I realized, That was the first time my breath could be seen. They say that in the end, the value of music is subjective– Well then, I'll sing as I please, I'll show you the message I want to convey. I won't despair over Or be afraid of my mistakes. They say to "live the right way," But I want to fight against that. My whole life has consisted of "it's my fault." Even if I'm treated like a fool, I'll be hurt and I'll hurt others, I'll live, causing both kindness and injury. The present I see is everything to me, So I don't want to cling onto ideals of the past or the future. Beat, beat, o heart of mine! It might be unsteady, but even so, this is my pulse.”

-----------------------------------

#twisted wonderland #twst #disney twst #twst wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #vocaloid #vocaloid music #kalim al asim #jamil viper #vil schoenheit #epel felmier #rook hunt #idia shroud #ortho shroud #malleus draconia #lilia vanrouge #twst silver #silver twisted wonderland #sebek zigvolt

[drealovesxenomorphs]

Guys do you think Dexter's significant to the plot of Spooky Month? And I'm not taking about the stuff we've seen, not the episodes dedicated to him. I'm saying a possible role he plays with the cult (or possibly lack of role with the cult.) Do you think in a future episode he'll be faced with a decision where he'll have to keep the kids safe from the cult? Because I do. I see it vividly. The little ones are captured, he manages to save and defend them. Otherwise why the hell does he keep showing up in the episodes.

I don't know it just bothers me that he's been so apparent in the show yet there's no connection to him and the show's underlying plot. Like, I know we've seen those QR code diary entries he's made where he's trying to keep himself from killing Skid and Pump, which is unique to the villains of the show and might offer a hint towards the future. He's the only one who hasn't tried anything against the children, because he does not target children. He had bloodlust, but not outwardly stated nor hinted that it primarily is targeted at children. Why is he special in this show? Maybe Pelo didn't have to much of a plan for Dexter when Unwanted Guest rolled around, but realized that he needed the character for a future subplot or necessary leverage for something and decided to use him. Maybe Dexter's just a plothole. But then he shouldn't keep showing up. Not have two episodes dedicated to him. Not an appearance in the two newest episodes.

And just to contribute to my griping, I want to mention Bob Velseb (I also have a bone to pick with him.) Look, he was around for Tender Treats, lightly mentioned in the previous episode, and never talked about again in the newest. Hell, Dexter was given a small cameo appearance in Tender Treats while they were showing the news. Bob was barely around in the show, and yet we've seen he has to do with the cult. He had the necklace. I was wholeheartedly expecting any mention of him in Hollow Sorrows. Nothing. I do want to point out, Moloch also has made multiple appearances. But you know what all of these have to do with each other? IT'S ALL A PART OF THE CULT.

Buddy. We've seen it time and time again, there are certain things you can expect in each episode, you have an idea as to what some characters will do, what will happen, what it will all connect to. In this show, bad things happen to children. But Dexter is an outlier. He was going to slaughter the boys because he was at his limit and they were the closest, but not because he had a perverse desire or allegiance towards the harm of kids. And it genuinely makes me wonder what the endgame will be with this guy. I refuse to believe we had all of this information and time about the guy for him to just end up remaining a sentient blob of melted plastic. Whether it was the original intent of Sr. Pelo to make him potential good guy when the show draws to an end, I honestly believe that will be the case.

--------------------------------------------------

And before I leave, I do actually love this character. He's great, in not complaining about seeing him too often, I'm GLAD, believe me, but from an analytical standpoint, it drives me insane.

#He's honestly the most intriguing character in the show. #Has the most depth #Genuinely didn't think he'd be a big deal when I first saw him #Even at the Tender Treats scene I just thought it was a harmless callback #But seriously why does he keep showing up it better be for a good reason #If it ends up being nothing and all this mentioning was just for fun #I'll scream #spooky month #spooky month spoilers #Unwanted Guest #hollow sorrows #tender treats #dexter erotoph #spooky month bob #bob spooky month #sr pelo #I'm just speaking nonsense #spooky month dexter

[cream-and-tea]

how do werewolves work in lmd (plus anything else like that)

OK SO.

(this got very very long)

(just as a warning)

(also i’m going to tag @transmasc-wizard bc i remember you asked about this a while ago and a lot of this response comes from what i had typed up to respond to YOU lol)

(okay here we go)

there are (putting it very very basically) two main kinds of magic in the Ghost Story Universe: mortem (Death Juice) and vita (Life Juice). they draw from the same source (God Juice) (which is also the source of the apocalypse but that’s another post entirely) and are kind of different aspects of one thing, but still act as opposing forces. equals and opposites, can’t have one without the other, etc etc. the point is that even though they’re two different types of magic they share the same set of rules and operate under the same basic facts. one of the most basic being that magic is physically taxing to use. no magic comes without a cost

so this is pretty straightforward. and generally it isn’t anything too debilitating, but the more powerful the magic and the more magic used, the more damaging the physical effects become (for example: early on agnes’s chitchats with the ghosts she sees don’t really wear on her because it’s a very passive form of her power, but as the plot progresses and she actively draws on it more and more she starts to develop chronic headaches). the more active magic bullshit you do in succession —> the worse you’ll be feeling the next morning. people would usually need to rest for upwards of a few days after performing a major act of magic and the reason The Library focuses so much on endurance and repetition is to prevent that from happening. it’s to the point that some majorly powerful stuff is possible but the benefit of it is almost completely outweighed by the potential damage it would cause.

rambly worbuilding aside, this is really just a preface so it makes sense when i say: vampires and werewolves are what happen when people push their magic to far.

they’re basically the most extreme end of the spectrum for either kind of magic. vamps are a result of overusing vita (blood life stuff), and wolfs are a result of overusing mortem (spooky death stuff). this happens to people when they’re drawing on so much magic that their body literally cannot support it anymore and starts canabilizing itself in order to support the magic and prevent the person from just. coming apart at the seams. a Regular Person body is just incapable of handling that amount of power, so in turn they have to draw their sustenance from a different non-human source. the comparatively small piece-of-magic-apocalypse-juice in them mutates and co-opts the functions of their body in order to save that body from collapse. both vamps and wolves have to feed CONSTANTLY or they risk their bodies giving in and all their organs straight-up failing. it’s a slow transformation process and sort of representative of how much Whatever Caused The Apocalypse has become so deeply ingrained in every part of the new world. again: it presents differently but it’s all the same stuff in the end.

the world is full of monsters and weirdness and general spooky bullshit but vampires and werewolves especially have an ENORMOUS amount of stigma surrounding them because of the fact that most people still see regular magic users as recognizably human, and view the transformation as a transition from Human Person With Emotions Who I Should View As Such Despite This One Weird Thing to Inhuman Monster. most magical creatures aren’t seen as sentient in nature and many of them are actively dangerous to humans, so if someone pushes their abilities to far and ends up undergoing the transformation then it’s seen as a shift from being one of Us (normal people just trying to survive this crazy broken down to world) to being one of Them (unnatural monsters that came about as a result of the evil forest and apocalypse and want to destroy humanity), except that obviously the people who are turned are the same people they were before, just with an extra set of challenges and probably more bloodlust (which i can see being a bit of concern but c’mon. are u really going to let a little killer instinct get in the way of a lasting and meaningful relationship. weak).

They’re also used as an excuse when it comes to hatred of people born with magic at all. bc sure it SEEMS harmless when you kid is learning from their dead grandma or healing a little bit faster than normal, but with ONE WRONG MOVE they could become A VISCOUS BEAST or a BLOODSUCKING MONSTER and do you really want to take that risk?? wouldn’t it be better to stamp that out now before someone gets hurt??? even in places like The Library, which usually serves as a safe-haven for people born w magic, vamps and wolfs are seen as somehow Lesser. The Library toutes them as cautionary tales and failures of magic, basically a warning of what not to do to their students.

to get into the more specific abilities and effects and What Being A Vampire Or Werewolf Means i’ve made some handy little lists (ft. calliope and luca macnamara, a book 2-3 character that nobody knows about lol) (please click tumblr absolutely wrecked the quality):

so. yeah.

#i hope this is coherent i am truly just Saying Shit #tldr is if you do to much extreme magic you get fuckin vamped. or wolfed. but i felt the need to dig deeper and also make silly little #drawings about it. as you do. #worldbuilding isn’t always my strongsuit but i LOVE LOVE LOVE vampires and werewolves and i think i managed to do something interesting here #idk we all know monsters are Queer As Fuck and i mean. obviously. but the way i think about vamps and wolves in the lmd-verse is a bit more #in line w being disabled? especially in terms of chronic exhaustion and chronic pain since those are what i have the most experience #dealing with. but it really is pick your metaphor. #the monsters are a metaphor for eeeeeverything babyyyyy #i got to draw luca for this that was fun i love luca #he’s just a guy. anxious guy. tired guy. he just wants everyone to leave him alone so he can do crossword puzzles in peace. #if i love anything it’s my little side characters. technically a book 2 antagonist is a vampire and has a bigger role #but he’s an asshole so i don’t wanna draw him #the joke i make about calliope and luka is that calliope is a gay werewolf #who dresses like a gay vampire. and luca is a gay vampire who dresses like a gay werewolf. #nblw and mlm solidarity if you will #wip: ghost story #creme does an art

[longagoitwastuesday]

I keep thinking of that reply in my Odysseus/Agamemnon post about how I regard differently Odysseus' and Agamemnon's actions, while acknowledging that at times Agamemnon is written as a sweet man and Odysseus is always straight up shitty, and how it was taken as some sort of defense for Agamemnon and as a form of pointing out the double standard; and that wasn't at all what the post was about for me, even though I can see where they were coming from. To be honest, given I didn't imagine it would spread anywhere other than my own blog, I didn't explain myself very well (or at all).

The fact is that when I talked about Odysseus not caring about hurting someone else's child to start and end a war I was indeed comparing his actions to Agamemnon's, but my words about supporting Odysseus' wrongs and cheering him in his terrible actions, while in a joking tone, weren't entirely a joke. I do think that Odysseus does some very shitty acts, and some quite terrible ones depending on the sources. That's a fact, that he does is at the core of his characterisation and it's what makes him so much fun; but not even when he is at his most cruel does he harm his family, his own son. Agamemnon, while sweet and loving at times in some texts, at his worst is willing to sacrifice Iphigenia. When readers regard with more sympathy Odysseus over Agamemnon despite both being responsible for children dying, I don't think there's a double standard in this aspect at all considering it's never his own kid Odysseus harms. And that's the key, I think.

Odysseus and Agamemnon have very different priorities, a very different view on loyalty and duty. It could be said that Agamemnon acts out of selfishness, but it could also be read in a kinder light, saying that Agamemnon is ruled by the gods first, and by his role as head of the achaeans; Agamemnon is not entirely himself. In opposition we see Odysseus acting perhaps mainly for himself and his own family and men; yes, he is a king, but he has not the role Agamemnon has. As a consequence, Agamemnon submits his family's wellbeing to the war, to the gods, while Odysseus stops the plow before hurting Telemachus but is (depending on the source) the cause of Iphigenia's sacrifice and Astyanax's death.

Both Odysseus and Agamemnon have reasons to support their actions, and both can be sympathised with; it's fiction after all. When it comes to fiction, at the end of the day which character a reader is drawn to or sympathises with is mainly an issue of personal taste, but I suppose it also implies a certain level of one's own views or preferences on morals, what makes us find certain actions more justifiable, or tasteful (perhaps that's a more accurate word), than others. Agamemnon sacrificing his daughter, no matter how sympathetic or understandable the reason, generally sits worse on people than Odysseus doing the same with someone else's kids, because they're someone else's. This different emotional reaction they provoke has place not just metanarratively, but also inside the very story; it is narratively significant, given it determines how their arrival home plays out, how their wives react to them, and thus their futures. Ultimately it determines whether they live or die.

I think both terrible acts go in line wonderfully with each characterisation, showcasing the role they hold in their world, what they value, what they care for, what they're willing to sacrifice for themselves and the others, how much of their own they're willing to give and bend. While looking at the wider picture it could perhaps be drawn that Agamemnon is the better person out of the two, but Odysseus' selfish actions are perhaps easier to empathise with, especially from a modern viewpoint. Odysseus is treacherous and prone to betrayal, but not against his own; Agamemnon follows the rules of the gods. How fitting in that context that Odysseus doesn't die at the end of his story, that he cheats the death heroes so often are fated to, almost as if cheating the narrative itself, bending the rules of the world he is ascribed to; how fitting in the context of those texts that point towards Sisyphus being his father. But that's another topic, and I've already talked a lot.

#Don't get me wrong. Odysseus is super shitty and this is a 'pick your poison' kind of situation #But I don't really think there's a double standard when it comes to the kids situation given that Odysseus doesn't sacrifice his own kid #I really think that's what lies at the core of this. Does that make him shittier and more selfish and a worse person? Actually yeah perhaps #But we are no kings with thousands of people depending on our decision yet cringe at the idea of hurting people close to us #It feels like betrayal. And this is where the moral preference takes the role. Which do you prefer? The one that would betray their family #for the greater good or the one who'd sell the world for their family and themselves? It's interesting because #while in fiction the first option is often the most frown upon while selfish actions for the beloved are easy to sympathise with‚ #in reality these are usually worse regarded. I didn't want to go there because I already wrote so much it didn't fit in the tags #but I actually think the same thing happens with Galahad/Lancelot. Heathcliff/Edgar I'd say has a somewhat similar situation going on #There are many many examples but mainly I was thinking of Galahad and Lancelot #So this is not an 'Odysseus did nothing wrong'. This is an 'Odysseus did many things very wrong but he didn't kill his son #so while both him and Agamemnon were the cause of death of kids‚ their action are not the same so there's no double standard regarding #the particular action of sacrificing Iphigenia. In fiction that kind of betrayal makes characters often unlikeable' #I guess that action 'stains' the view under which Agamemnon's actions are seen and so his character is often seen under a darker light #He is presented a bit as an antagonistic presence opposed to Achilles who is very popular so I guess that also influences this? #Anyway I've been elated by the musical causing Odysseus art and posts but I do have noticed that he is very goodified in it and that #it has influenced how he is being regarded around here (the way it happened with The Song of Achilles as well I suppose) #And I must say I like that less. He is shitty in a fun way but not in a light way. He is very shitty #Definitely not better than Agamemnon depending on the perspective you take. I can't believe I'm 'defending' Agamemnon #He is not my thing at all I'm all for selfish actions for oneself and the loved ones through manipulation‚ #lies and scams and letting the world drown if needed. In fiction Lancelot's‚ Odysseus' and Heathcliff's actions are a lot more preferible #to me than Galahad's‚ Agamemnon's and Edgar's. But yeah #I ALSO didn't want to go there because again it would have take me forever and I would run out of tags (yet here I am) #but there's also a Priam/Hector/Paris comparison in how they act and how they're regarded to be drawn here #Agamemnon/Iphigenia‚ Priam/Hector/Paris‚ Odysseus/Telemachus. And that is not even including everything with Elektra/Clytemnestra/Orestes #or Oedipus and his own family for that matter #But yes. I'll better shut up already. I'm talking a lot more than I intended #I just found that discussion super enthralling and I couldn't stop thinking about it. I still can't #I talk too much #I should probably delete this later

[izzys-bluebell-woods]

I feel like people have been quick to dismiss Mimzy's importance in Ep. 5

I've been seeing a lot of Mimzy hate, mainly on Reddit, where people are genuinely REALLY hating on Mimzy because she was annoying, interrupted Hell's Greatest Dad, and served no purpose in the episode.

Whilst the previous two points are down to personal taste, I feel like considering Mimzy's role in this episode nonexistent, or that she just exists for fanservice here, is greatly overlooking what this episode is about. There are two focuses to the episode, one of course being Lucifer and his relationship with Charlie, but it's also the deepest look into Alastor's actual character that we've gotten so far, I'd say significantly more than the finale. We see two sides to Alastor that both Mimzy and Luficier bring out, and I wanted to kind of highlight my thoughts and what the episode was trying to show us about Alastor that we wouldn't have gotten if Mimzy wasn't there.

Alastor's instant hostility towards Lucifer makes it incredibly clear that Alastor can't keep his cool all the time - his two biggest flaws is that he is power-hungry and incredibly petty. From what we know - and what is likely to be true considering Lucifer is shown to have no idea who he is - Alastor has never met Lucifer before this. If the theories that he belongs to Eve/Lilith in some way are true, there is reasonable ground to say that this immediate hatred towards him could be justified, maybe it was in some way Lucifer's fault that he's caught in this deal and this is his way of taking it out on him or trying to uphold his end of that deal.

But look how much his mask slips, look how annoyed and angry he is. If this was a font that he was doing to somehow make Lucifer intentionally mad at him for some sort of personal gain, he wouldn't have looked so murderous. Him just leaning down and hissing 'fuck you' right in his face was so shocking for the audience purely because no one has done that to him before, no one has pushed him so much.

This indicates that Alastor isn't just playing some sort of game, Lucifer genuinely got under his skin, because he is so obviously more powerful than Alastor and he HATES that. He hates being reminded that he's not the biggest meanest in Hell - this was explored more in his showdown in Adam, but at the time of this episode's release, this is the most flawed and 'human' Alastor has ever felt. He's dropped from this force of mysterious evil, to randomly picking a fight with the Devil himself because he was so catty about being shown up.

As further reinforced with him snapping at Husk when he also reminded him he wasn't as all-powerful as he sees himself to be, Alastor will lash out at those who make him feel like he isn't the one in control and pulling the strings of everything - we finally see a hint of motivation for him sticking around at the hotel at all.

But then there's Mimzy.

We immediately go from seeing Alastor at his worst, at his most aggravated and petty, to seeing him literally melt into a hug. The demon who, according to Viv herself, hates physical contact so much that he would distort and melt himself to get away from it. We so quickly go from being shocked that Alastor is behaving so spitefully to now having to take in Alastor being ecstatic to see someone who he considers to be a friend.

Having this be so directly after his massive tiff with Lucifer is so important. If this wasn't included in this episode, our only insight into the person Alastor actually is would be that he's an asshole. Picking fights with people just because he wants to stay on top, that its the thing he cares about the most. But Mimzy does come along, and we see that it isn't true at all - and its confusing, and that is so perfect.

You think you're getting somewhere with the person Alastor is, but you see that, hold on, there is actually a semblance of heart in there, here he is actually caring about someone. But what is so important about this being a relationship he shares with Mimzy, and something that couldn't at all be explored with, say, Rosie, is the kind of person Mimzy is.

Mimzy double crossed Alastor. And, according to Husk, this is a somewhat regular occurace. We can see that Alastor is annoyed at her, and I think most of us were prepared for him to do something to her like he was doing to those loan sharks a few seconds before this confrontation.

But...he doesn't. Not at all, he doesn't even snap at her. Perhaps scold her a bit, but other than that, he is so nice to her and just politely tells her to leave and that is that. He does more shit to Lucifer, who literally hasn't done nothing but exist in his presence, than someone who just trampled all over his ego by using him, both as a shield and, well, somewhat emotionally.

In this episode, Alastor is shown to lash out. Easily. All you have to do is be more powerful than Alastor, and he won't like you - that's the impression you'd get from his scenes with Lucifer alone. But we have his scenes with Mimzy as well, and you're being told, hold on, no, that isn't quite correct, because he's not acting the same here. What has Alastor got to gain from letting Mimzy get off of this with no repercussions? Mimzy, someone who has probably sold her soul to someone else and has absolutely no power at all.

Nothing. He does it because Alastor cares about her.

I don't think I would have considered his friendship with Rosie to be genuine at all if it wasn't for his friendship with Mimzy. Rosie is so powerful, and Alastor has so much to gain from being in close cahoots with her, but it's so clear that he doesn't care about that, but he sees her as an equal. If all we saw from Alastor in that episode was him lusting for power, it would render the way we see all his relationships with people to be of some gain to him somehow. ESPECIALLY Rosie and other Overlords like Zestial.

This makes Alastor and Mimzy's relationship arguably one of the most interesting in the show. Someone who is so powerful and unpredictable, who hardly cares for anyone other than himself, caring about this absolute gremlin of a woman. He likes Mimzy purely because she's fun to be around, a sentiment you might expect from Alastor, with his stated reasoning for joining the hotel being to laugh at people, but he's in no way laughing at Mimzy. You can tell that he doesn't intimidate her at all, because she has the absolute balls to pull off the loan shark thing with him.

Mimzy and Lucifer's interactions with Alastor has made him to be one, if not THE most interesting character in the show. Because you're exploring two contradictory sides of the same coin at once. One where he gets so worked up and angry over not having the power he sees himself as having, and one where he's visibly hurt that his long time friend used him. In one instance you have him pulling out all the stops to be as hostile as he could be to Lucifer without actually hurting him (even though he clearly wants to), and another where he has full range to hurt Mimzy as much as he wants to, but he doesn't.

Alastor cares about people. But also disregards people like playing cards. He is such a mixed bag, so far from being one note, and you wouldn't have gotten that insight without Mimzy.

#alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel #mimzy #hazbin hotel mimzy #lucifer morningstar #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin hotel analysis #also very telling that reddit shits so strongly on one of the only plus size women in the show over her acting like a bitch in hell #you know #like so many other characters in the show

[hoshigray]

Just want to start and say hiiiii I love the work you put out and I can't get over how amazing they are. Since you said your inbox is open I was thinking about Life Guard Choso and a little lips to lips action by the pool side at night. Include anything else you see fit I don't mind☺️.

𝐚. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: omg tyyyy !! and yippee, a choso request :DD haven't written for him in a long while

⊹ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: lifeguard! Choso x fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - kissing; making out - sexual acts in a public place; hotel pool room - breast fondling + sucking - fingering (f! receiving) - oral (m! + f! receiving) - praising - implied v +p insertion (ends with cowgirl) - implied unprotected sex (psa: don't be silly; wrap the willy) - cameo: Nobara (best friend) - Choso having a lil crush on reader, and lowkey being horny on the job, lawl - reader lowkey being flirty and taking the lead role.

⊹ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.7k

“—Khhh, ohooo, ohhhmyGod, Chosoooo, your tongue feels so good!”

“Hoooohh, Ch’soooo, right there! Keep scraping me right there…!”

As lifeguarding night shifts go, last night’s had to be the most bewildering Choso has ever endured.

He sits on the lifeguard chair, observing the indoor pool area inside the hotel where he’s working during spring break.  Luckily, there weren’t many customers coming to use the pool during his shifts — especially the night ones. So, all Choso had to do was watch the hours go by, go to his lunch break, and occasionally come back if he was called in for the night shift. 

What sounds like a manageable task turns out to be otherwise because someone is sitting at the edge of the pool and captures Choso’s observant brown eyes from time to time. It’s you, sitting at the edge with your feet submerged in the water as you converse with your friend — he picks up their name is Nobara – about the joys of your spring break adventures for the past few days. 

Your frequent giggles and sweet voice are difficult for him to ignore, sneaking glances under his cap to see you, shooting himself internally for taking advantage to look at you in your cute one-piece swimsuit that hugged your curves nicely. And then the warmth of his blood swiftly changes to freezing temperature when your eyes land on him, averting his gaze back into the water before him.

The ripples of the water have him thinking back on the night shift last night, his cheeks reddening as he recollects the memories…

It was a lonely shift as Choso was the only person in the indoor pool area. It wasn’t until the hour touched two hours behind midnight when the door opened and came you. As someone who’s been lowkey crushing on you for the past few days, this immediately became the worst-case scenario for the young lifeguard, forced to gawk and examine your graceful swimming and two-piece figure. 

He’s been doing that for a solid fifteen minutes, suffering in silence while his eyes scan the curves of your thighs and legs and follow the droplets of water trickle down to your cleavage. Eyeing you with such indecency, what an inappropriate thing as a lifeguard.

And it comes back to bite him on the ass when you walk out of the pool and approach him to his chair, startling the pecan brown-haired hotel worker. “Hey there,” you say so charmingly, practically inviting him with just the greeting. “I can’t help but think you’re lonely here just watching me swim…Would you humor me and accompany me? Would feel bad I’m the reason you’re here doing your job at such a late hour…”

Choso knew he should shoot down the offer as he was still on duty. However, judging by how it was nearly an hour and a half from closing the pool and that most of the other hotel workers were gone, a tiny part of him was pinching him to accept the proposal of his mini-crush. It’s just a swim, in the water and out, right…?

That’s what he kept telling himself as he was following and talking with you in the pool; although every time you referred to him by his name, swam circles around his rigid body, or tittered at his words, that statement was demonstrated worthless. The lights from inside the water illuminated your frame lured Choso in with every minute, your eyes sparkling like the broken surface tension of the water.

“Hey, Choso,” God, he couldn’t believe you were calling him by his name; it sounded too dreamlike to be reality. “Have you ever given someone CPR?”

“Uhh, yeah, like once or twice,” he replied while averting his eyes to the other side of the room as if that would help his pinkish blush not be seen by you.

“Really?” You probed, bringing your frame for the water to reach your chin. “You must know the procedure pretty well, then…Hey, let me test you then!”

Huh? “What now?”

“Okay, I’m gonna pretend to drown, and you do whatever lifeguard procedure you do to get me out of the water.” You said it with such a beaming attitude that Choso couldn’t tell if you were serious. They can’t be serious…And then, you took a giant breath before allowing your body to be completely submerged in the water, sinking to the pool floor.

Choso looked to where you were for about five seconds; you two were at around the 4th or 5th feet of the pool — there’s no way you had to be serious. But five seconds turned to ten, and you didn’t exhibit any signs of wanting to breach. It caused his jaw to drop; no shot, they’re actually serious!

With haste, Choso waddles down to your spot and drives himself into the water, taken aback in perplexity when you greeted him with a wave. He then brings a hand under your legs and one to your shoulder, breaching with you in bridal style. He voices his bafflement, “Wh–What was that idea?”

“Hahaha, took you long enough; you’re a pretty terrible lifeguard for taking your sweet time rescuing me!” You jest to him, the comment poking right through Choso’s stature and dignity. 

“I didn’t know you were serious or not…”

“Drowning is always a serious issue,” you bat your eyes at him before poking the mark across his face. It wasn’t until then that Choso realized how close he had you, your face two inches away from his, and the top of your two-piece now in his line of sight for your cleavage to capture his dangerous curiosity. He turns his head to show some modesty he has left, but it’s too late; you saw him. A twinge of your lip forms a pleasant grin, “Well, you know what happens next, right?”

He blinks and brings his face back in your direction. Surely you didn’t mean that, asking the following to make sure, “Wh…What?”

“Mouth-to-mouth, of course!” Oh, this was going way too far, the poor lifeguard holding you frozen still at your goal. “Why, you don’t want to put your lips on me? Or were you sneaking glances at me these past few days for nothing?” Another arrow that shot him down; you knew!? “You’re not quite subtle, you know. Hehe, but I find that kinda cute.” 

Choso tried to explain himself, but what only came out was stammers and squeaks. Your gaze had him internally nervous and exposed, so you had to poke him even more, “So? Are you gonna leave your drowning rescuee’s lips alone or save me?”

He gulped at the phrasing, struggling to find the words to give to you. Not you were giving him a chance because your face was moving closer to his every second he didn’t answer. And when your eyelids come down, Choso hesitantly does as well and brings his lips onto your soft ones. 

The first peck was long, yet sweetly introduced you two together. You snaked your hand up his pecs to his neck, inviting him to kiss you a second time. His restraint dissolved with every sedation of your lips on his, and it vanished wholly when his ears picked up a moan. He becomes more adventurous and chews on your bottom lip, and the whimper you let out ignites something that he’s been dying to contain for this long. 

A hot and steamy kiss that was built up to happen here and now, and Choso relishes having you like this like it’s a dream. You break the kiss with a gasp for air, panting alongside him with a smile. “Well then, do I have to tell you what should happen next, too?”

When Choso silently leads you out of the pool with him, you are pleased that you don’t have to.

“—Khhh, ohooo, ohhhmyGod, Chosoooo, your tongue feels so good!”

Choso moved you to one of the cushioned chaise lounge chairs to lie as he ripped you off your bottoms and greeted your lower half with attention. Being between your legs was far from what he ever imagined; however, with how you tase on his tongue and the wails you’re letting out for him, he can’t find it in himself to stop now. 

He licks your clit with a circle, and you squeak at the motion. “Mmmm…feeling’ good there, Y/n?”

“Ohhh, yesss, oh yessss,” you respond with a hazed expression, letting your euphoric sounds fill the quiet indoor pool room occupied by you two. “Fuuuck, lick me more, please…”

Even your requests to him were dear to his ears, obliging your folds with feverish laps and swirls. Your cries become louder, legs jolting with ever every lave and suck of your leaking fluids. But Choso holds you by the thighs, massage them to relax your body. Damn, you felt so soft to his fingers, wanting to have his hands on you for as long as he can.

You bite your lip when your hand grabs tuffs of his down brunette hair, egging him to give your clitoris more kisses and hurried licks that almost have you choke on your spit. “Oh, myGod—Mmmph! You’re so good at this, Choso…Ahhhh, oh fuck, feels too gooood…!”

Choso lifts his head to lock his chocolate eyes with yours, examining your reaction when he switches his tongue with a forefinger bullying inside your vagina. The insertion has your bold jerk upwards, squirming at the finger that’s scraping the velvety texture of your vaginal walls. He then kisses from your thigh up to your abdomen, sucking on your skin to tease. Once he comes up to your top piece, he uses his free hand to bring it up and finally releases your breasts for his eyes to survey. His mouth doesn’t waste time having a nipple inside, licking on the bud as he gropes the other breast.

“Ahhnn! Hahhh, hehe, you look so hot doing that,” you comment, making the young man sneak a glance at you before he sucks and nibbles on the nipple. His finger inside your cunt goes faster, having you whine when his thumb comes to your clit. Swipes to the delicate button erupt howls from your agape mouth, “Ohhhh, Hoooohh, Ch’soooo, right there! Keep scraping me right there…pleaseee, don’t stop…!”

He withdrew from your nipple with a soft “pop” from his lips, bringing his face inches close to yours. “Gonna cum on my fingers, yeah?” He asks to distract you from the sneaking middle finger that invades between your folds. The two digits work together to reach places you couldn’t, rubbing and scratching your inner walls with tips. 

“Yesss, yesss, I’m gonna cum…! More, more—Oh, Ohooo!” Choso kisses you again, and you happily mewl into his lips as your orgasm climbs up with the pace of his fingers and his thumb pressing and swiping on your clit. Your chasm clamps onto his digits, bringing your hands to his face to keep the kiss going as your climax hits you.

Shocks from your body prompt you to tremble under him, the walls of your slit contract around his fingers, and your hips involuntarily sway to ride out the phases of your clarity. You suck on Choso’s tongue; his groans are music to your ears while your hand travels down to his swim trunks and feels the tent of his groin.

He moans, breaking the kiss to look where your hand is. You chuckle, “It’s time to return the favor. Come on, let’s switch.”

He follows your lead and takes the position you had previously, watching you situate yourself between his legs as you bring his trunks down to have his erection spring out. He panics a little when you gasp aloud while marveling at his limb, “My, what a long thing you were hiding from me…”

Your compliment has the blush on his ears scorch him with unbearable heat, and you keep eye contact while your plump lips place kisses on the sensitive pink tip of his cock. He hitches his breath at the contact, especially at your hand, grasping his length and beginning stroking motions.

Your tongue dances around his glans and presses on the frenulum, nibbling on the rough skin while your free hand goes to his testicles, softly kneading them to provoke moans to leave his lips. “Such cute sounds from such a cute guy; keep making more for me, okay?” He places a hand on your head, a sign that you take initiative to pop his dick into your mouth. 

Bobbing your head up and down, you take in Choso’s shaft inch by inch, the warmth of your mouth doing wonders to his senses. A hand grips the cushion of the tongue chair he’s lying on, and shivers crawl up his spine when you mumble after taking it to the hilt as your voice travels through his body. 

“Mmmm…Nngohh, fuck,” he curses with furrowed brows, biting his lip when sensing your tongue lick the underside of his cock. Fuck, your mouth felt so damn good — it took everything for Choso not to rut into your mouth voluntarily. Your tight throat didn’t make it any better, and the walls enveloping his entire girth had him drooling. 

Puffed cheeks suck on him leisurely, your lips coated from the saliva covering him, the noises so erotic and out of this world. You continue to massage his balls while your mouth occupies him, alternating with your hands to go down and suck on his balls roughly.

Here is where Choso finds it hard to contain himself with every second, his thighs jerking with every sign of pleasure, throwing his head back when his dick is back inside your gummy throat. Hips subtly propel to your mouth to create more friction, and he whimpers as you happily accept him with mumbled wails and restlessly jerk him off. 

“—Kahhnn, nnmgh, shit, Yn,” your name sounds like a dazed slur, the hand purchased on your head eggs you to go faster. He almost bites his tongue when yours teases his urethra for more of his precum, “Fuck, I’m gonna cum, I’m cumming…shiiit, ohh…!”

And you give him aid, sucking on his cock harder and bobbing frantically while you use both your hands to pleasure him more. The commotion of his lower half corrupts all of his senses, hanging by a thread to hang on and howl your name out. One last lap and harsh suck on his glans induces a choked groan, and Choso finally ejaculates into your mouth.

With the thirst pump, you instantly take him back inside your throat, drinking every bit of his load exuding from his throbbing member. He thrusts as you suck him, his orgasm shaking his being with every rut and sob. He heaves and pants, your name said in helpless prayers while you suck his soul out. And, God, does he fucking love it so.

You give him mercy and release his shaft, placing more tiny kisses on it while watching Choso’s quaking frame calm down. And when he does, you bring your body off from between his legs. “Thank you for saving me, Choso.” You crawl to place a gentle kiss on his lips with a hum, and then you relish the cute sounds he makes as your wet cunt meets his length. 

“Let me reward you by pampering you more...”

“….—op, don’t stare at him so hard!”

“Is that him?”

Choso snaps back to the present when he hears familiar voices speak — it is you and Nobara he finds that are looking at you from across the poolside. Nobara being the one staring dead at him; your best friend’s eyes feel like daggers piercing Choso’s pale skin. It made him gulp with nervousness.

Then, she cocks her head and leans to speak. “Doesn’t look so bad; don’t know about that mark on his face, though…How long was it, again?”

“Shhh, be quiet!” You slap her arm to silence her, making the mistake of looking at Choso. You two look into each other’s gazes for a few seconds, the warmth of your cheeks creeping up and having you two sever your faces elsewhere. 

Nobara saw the exchange, lifting a brow before asking you, “So, do you want me to give him your number, or would you like to fuck him again before that—Oww!!“ Another slap to her bare shoulder, she winces this time.

“Jesus Christ, shut up!”

@screampied 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️

requests/thirsts are open hehe~ 🧸

© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲 – reblogs and comments are wholeheartedly appreciated ☆ dividers by @/benkeibear.

#𝑯𝒐𝒔𝒉𝒊 ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ 𝑾𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆𝒔: 𝑹𝒆𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒔 #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk smut #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #choso x reader #choso smut #choso kamo smut #choso kamo x reader #choso kamo x you #choso x you #choso x y/n #choso fanfic #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen fic #jjk fic #jjk imagines #anime smut

[deadsetobsessions]

Hera stood, waiting for her turn at last. The Queen of the Greek Pantheon traced the lines of neon green, its light reflecting against her true form in a soothing way. She’s no stranger to patience, to waiting. But there were little of those that had the gall to make her wait, and even smaller of that number that she would tolerate such behavior. Regardless, this was the one being she could not afford to offend and so, she waits. Her many forms, her divine self, perceived the room and compared it to her own halls of residence.

Olympus was much more intricate, carved of noble marble and inlaid with countless of priceless metals and gems and divinity. Twelve seats of power atop an engineering wonder, halls adorned with the brightest of the original flames, an hearth that was roaring at Hesta’s skillful hands.

In comparison, this throne room had been changed much since she was last here. Gone were the spikes of terror and screams of the damned. Now… it looked like the most bare throne room she’d ever bore witness to.

And yet, as she waited for the Boy King, Hera could feel the subtle thrum of impossible power. The new king did not flare his will and might like the previous tyrant, and for that, Hera approved. She has had quite enough of living with and under tyrants who cared only for themselves… and their bed achievements whilst failing spectacularly in their marital roles. Zeus was not a good life partner and Hera regretted ever saying yes to him many times in her immortal life. And yet… she loved him still.

The doors opened, and a small figure floated in, flanked by the previous King’s Knight. Perhaps that is what makes this Boy King so dangerous, Hera thought as she dipped into a bow, because he can turn the loyalest to his side.

“Your Majesty,” she greeted, in ghost speak.

“Heya, Hera!” The Boy King greeted her back, before waving the Knight away. Hera marveled, a bit, at the sheer confidence he had to dismiss his knight in her presence. Even the last king kept the knights around to ensure his power was always in display, always unchallengeable. The Boy King could destroy her with a snap of a finger and he knows it. He knows that she knows it.

“What did you need?” The Boy King asked, grin still on place as he floated to her instead of seating himself on his throne. Hera masked the bit of confusion she felt in pursuit of her goal.

“I have come here to ask of you a favor,” she began. “I am aware that… you are fond of this, the earth in which I reside in?”

Hera carefully picked her word. Everybody knows that the new King Phantom had laid claim to not only the Infinite Realms as is normal of his station, but an entire Earth as his haunt. He had the power to do so, she could finally see, now that she was standing before him. It would not do for Hera to get her strings cut because she claimed what is his.

“Sure. Why?” The Boy King tilted his head, narrowing that predator green upon her true form.

“Do you know of the Justice League, my lord?”

“Phantom’s fine,” he waved a hand. “And yeah, sure do! Why?”

Hera tilted her many forms in acknowledgement of the command. She bowed.

“My daughter, of a sort, is Diana Prince. Wonder Woman. She is… in grave danger. We can not exert our influence over a land that does not have our history. I can not interfere and aid her.”

“Oh, you want me to help her?” His tone was exasperated, and Hera spoke even more carefully in fear of offending him.

“Yes, if it pleases you. And it would be most gracious of you should Your Majesty have time to watch over her. I fear the danger will not leave her so quickly.”

There was a brief period of silence before King Phantom sighed. “And if it does not please me to do so?”

Hera looked up and locked gazes with evaluating green. “Then I am afraid I will be breaking a fair bit of cosmic law, King Phantom.”

He laughed. “Okay, yeah, I’ll check up on Wonder Woman.”

Hera blinked her many eyes, peacock feathers spreading in shock at how easily he allowed her favors. She did not even have to beg.

King Phantom turned to leave before pausing. “Hera, if you need help, just ask. Preferably without beating around the bushes next time. Also, Pandora misses you. You might want to hang around for tea later.”

Hera regarded him with the might of her divinity, which was but hardly a spec of his own kindness. The last one had not had her respect. Fear, yes. But never respect But this one…

“Yes, my King.”

“It’s just Phantom.” He shot back as he left, the Knight returning to his side once more.

Hera transformed into a more mortal form. She had not seen Pandora in a long time, the young woman had made quite an impression on her. Perhaps her old friend could be convinced in helping her punch Zeus and ruin her beloved husband’s day. Hera hummed, the green that used to flicker acidly against her divine form now only soothed. A reflection of its owner.

King Phantom is worthy of her regard.

——

Holy shit, a goddess asked him to check on the Justice League! She was super weird about it and talked in a really old way of speaking, but Danny hadn’t had anything to do for the past few days while entering the zone for his annual check up.

Danny waved away Fright Knight and dived into the portal that would take him directly to the Justice League and Diana!

He floated down from the portal, blinking at group of disheveled and injured superheroes surrounded by a group of demons. Belial?

“King Phantom.” Belial rumbled. Danny waved, not noticing the standstill his presence forced.

“Shite.” The British man cursed, drawing on his magic once more.

“King Phantom?” Diana Prince, Wonder Woman, said quizzically.

“Who?” Batman, Batman! That’s actually Batman, rumbled.

“High King of the Infinite Realms. We’re buggered if he decides to help Belial.”

“Wait, like the god of gods, that King Phantom?” Captain Marvel asked. Ancients, why are all of them electrical based? Danny hates electricity.

Danny floated closer to them, grinning in a friendly way before frowning as they tensed up.

“King Phantom. May I ask why you have graced us with your presence, my King?”

“Hey, Wonder Woman! Your mom asked me to babysit you!” He grinned, sharp and mischievous.

“What…?” The Flash asked, zipping to their side. “Her mom? Queen Hippolyta?”

“No, Hera,” Danny said, and watched Wonder Woman straighten at his words.

“The Goddess Hera.”

“Yep!” Danny rocked back on his suddenly formed legs instead of the whisp of a tail he usually kept in the Zone. He was also still floating. Danny sent a wave of ice and froze the rest of the demons in one fell swoop.

“The rest of you can take care of clean up, yes? Diana has to get some snacks, dinner, and then go to bed.” He pushed gently at Diana’s shoulders, nudging her towards the plane. She went willingly, respectful but amused.

——

Bruce, intellectually knowing that’s a king but only seeing a superhero teenager: *fills out mental adoption paperwork*

——

Hera, a goddess, terrified of misspeaking and dying as a result: he’s so strong even though he’s young omg powerful and could end my immortal existence

Danny, an unserious king: golly gee why is she speaking like a Shakespeare novel

——

Hera, thinking Danny’s gonna be dignified: pls watch over my daughter

Danny, who has a clone he sees as a daughter and therefore has no issues babysitting a grown woman: lol snacks, dinner, bedtime

Diana:… usually I’m on the other spectrum of this but it’s from a higher up so… okay?

——

Danny, terrifying gods and ancients: they’re my friends! The power of friendship!

#batman #danny phantom #dc x dp #bruce wayne #diana prince #diana of themyscira #wonder woman #Wonder Woman does not need a man #Wonder Woman deserves someone to care about her wellbeing though #like she has to take care of all of these idiots she has for friends #mostly to kick them into gear #the flash #barry allen #Shazam #billy batson #john constantine #ghost king danny #ghost king au #Danny has no idea what’s going on ever #he’s just vibing #I’m not convinced he actually understands that he’s like the god of gods #he’s there to hang out with frostbite and that’s pretty much it

[rebelfell]

multiples.

eddie munson x fem!reader

“Multiple? Multiple what?”

cw: smut blurb about eddie making sure you arrive properly. ref to period pain, fingering, oral (m & f receiving)

2.7k 18+ MDNI

Eddie has a problem.

No, no, no—not a problem. That makes it sound like there was some issue he had to resolve or a task he had to complete. This is more delicate than that. A conundrum, maybe? A dilemma? Whatever he called it, it had consumed him for weeks now. And it boiled down to one thing:

He was pretty sure you weren’t coming.

At first, it was difficult to put a finger on what exactly was throwing him off. 

When the two of you got together, he was thrilled. Like, running through the streets naked, jumping on top of moving cars, Wilhelm screaming, over the goddamn moon kind of thrilled. He’d been into you since forever and had always felt totally comfortable around you. You were hilarious and cool and probably definitely the smartest person he knew, easy—not that the rest of his friends were like Rhodes scholars or anything.

Still, it kind of blew him away that someone like you was actually interested in him.

The longer you saw one another and the closer you got, he only liked you more and more. Then you guys started doing stuff and he sort of kind of lost his fucking mind. He’d never been with a person that felt so much like home; someone he felt like he could spend forever with, if you’d only have him. And the sex was…unbelievable.

You let your bodies have long, in-depth conversations that lasted into the night and then picked right back up again in the early morning. He hadn’t ruined this many sets of sheets since he was a snot-nosed pre-teen first discovering the loving embrace of his own fist. But as the fog of your initial sex haze dissipated, he couldn’t shake this one thought that kept coming back.

He didn’t want to toot his own horn or anything, but Eddie had it on pretty good authority he was above average when it came to making girls arrive. And with you…

Well, it was just different.

You were pretty quiet, for one. Which was kind of odd, considering how brash and brazen you could be normally. Eddie thought maybe you were just more subdued during sex. Sometimes it was the quietest, most mousy-looking girls who rattled his trailer roof the hardest. So maybe the reverse was also true? And there was nothing wrong with that, if it was. Just because he was vocal in bed, it certainly didn’t mean he expected you to be.

But when you came—or rather, when you said you were—it just didn’t quite feel like he expected.

He was no expert, mind you. But after having dealt so much in theatricality and role play, he’d developed quite an ear for insincerity. And you are anything but insincere.

When he had you pinned underneath him, his hips snapping as he drove you into the mattress, the way you squirmed and writhed and squeezed around him was pure fucking bliss. But then, just when he thought he was getting you going, you would be wrapping your hand around the back of his neck and pulling him in close so he could hear your heated whisper.

“Gonna come for me, beautiful?” he’d ask, his hand dipping between your bodies to rub at your clit. You’d nod, almost too blissed out to speak.

“I did, I did,” you told him, more breath than words. “I came already—I wanna feel you.”

And, well, when you say it like that…it’s all he can do not to blow his load on the spot. 

It’s not that he doesn’t believe you. He just thinks maybe you don’t know what it feels like to really come. So it’s not that you’re faking—something is definitely happening down there—it’s just not an orgasm. At least not a decent one.

At least not one he wants to claim.

Considering the guys you’d dated, he’s not all that surprised. They all sounded like losers who worried about themselves first and only. Dumb jerks who thought their dicks were magic wands that made girls come as soon as they set foot in the lobby. He didn’t want to be like them.

He wanted to take you to the fucking penthouse.

But it’s tricky. He can’t just bring up something like this, can he? He doesn’t want to offend you. He doesn’t want you thinking he’s saying there’s something wrong with you. Because of course there isn’t. And he doesn’t want to keep going without you knowing what he’s trying to do.

Like he said…it’s delicate.

So the next time he had you over, he let you lead. He made no move to change your course as you kissed down his bare inked chest, over the sparse patch of hair that swirled just beneath his navel, and pulled him hot and leaking from behind his blue checkered shield. And even as his instincts screamed in protest, he let you take him into the warmth of your mouth and bob on his cock until he came—a shuddering, whining, blubbering mess as he filled your throat.

All part of the plan. All part of the plan.

It took a bit of time for him to recover and he spent every second of it loving on you—each graze of his fingers and lips leisurely, but thorough. He kissed all the parts of you he thought might have been left unattended too long: the undersides of your breasts marked by the indentations of your bra; the soft span of skin that ran along the inside of your forearm to the crease of your elbow; the sides of your ribcage that quivered at the tickle of his warm breath.

And he watched your face every step of the way, studying you until you dropped fully into that deeply relaxed state. He let his hand drift down between your legs, skimming them over the sensitive skin there, making you tremble all over in anticipation. Alright, this was it.

“Hey, baby,” he murmured, a low rumble between kisses along your collarbone.

“Yeah?”

You hummed out your reply, looking down at him with heavy lidded eyes, half gone already. It made Eddie grin, his smile all teeth.

Oh, this was gonna be fun.

“I was wondering if you’ve ever had a multiple?”

The question made your brow wrinkle and you frowned slightly. “Multiple? Multiple what?”

“Multiple orgasms,” he said with a light chuckle. “Like if I fingered you until you came and then went down on you until you came again. Made you come over, and over, and over…”

You gasped as his tongue traced the shell of your ear, sending shivers down your body.

“Can that…does that happen?” you asked with a breathy sigh. He just smiled at the adorably incredulous look on your face and nodded.

“Of course,” he said. “I think that’s like the main thing you guys have going for you in this arena. Something to make up for all the annoying shit you have to put up with from your body.”

Another chuckle makes his chest shake as he rubs a hand over your lower belly, remembering how you’d asked him once just to press on it with his strong, warm palm and offer some relief from your cramps that were particularly bad one night.

“Oh. I mean…I’ve heard that, I guess. I kind of always thought it was a joke.”

“Well, I might not get you there,” Eddie said, giving you a smile he hopes is reassuring. “And if it doesn’t feel good or it hurts or anything, just tell me and we’ll stop. No harm, no foul.”

You pinched the edge of his comforter between your fingers and tugged at it, twisting it into a little peak at your side. “That sounds…really good,” you told him quietly.

“So, I can try?” he asked, brow lifting. “It’s okay?”

“I mean, yeah…” You chewed your lip, still a little hesitant. “But what about you?”

Eddie smirked, all sly and wily as he brushed the backs of his fingers along the softness of your cheek. “We did me already,” he reminded you.

Your cheeks heated at the memory, the taste of his come still sitting warm on your tongue as you swallowed thickly. Admittedly, you’d been kind of surprised when he let you go down on him first and actually finished in your mouth. Normally he was tugging you off him as soon as he felt himself losing it, grunting out something about not wanting to go too quickly.

“Okay,” you said with a small smile. “It just seems a little unfair”

“How’s it unfair if it’s what I want?” he murmured, voice dropping back to that low rumble.

Hard to argue with that, you supposed. 

A beaming smile spread across your face and you twisted your fingers in the ball chain necklace that dangled around his neck to pull him closer. You answered his question with the press of your lips against his own, inhaling a shaky breath when you pulled away. Eddie’s nose nudged against yours, mashing into the softness of your cheek to resume the kiss. His hand came up to cradle your jaw and his mouth moved in that slow, sensuous way that made your insides dance and leap and spin like an entire company of ballerinas.

The kiss itself is so dizzying, you almost forgot about Eddie’s initial intentions until you felt his fingers begin to gently glide through your soaking folds. He swallowed your little mewl of relief as two of them finally sank inside your warmth while his thumb brushed teasingly light over your clit. It doesn’t take long at all for your arousal to coat his fingers, for your body to gush for him.

“Ed, I’m…I’m coming,” you breathed out, tingling with that initial burst of pleasure.

“Thats it, baby,” Eddie nodded, going along with it one last time. “You’re doing so good for me.”

He drew a single, high moan out of you—more like a gasp of relief as your body fully relaxed and all the stiffness in your shoulders and tension in your limbs melted away. You let your head loll to the side and smiled, almost dazed with the feeling. Pride surged in his chest from the way you looked at him sometimes—so perfectly content and elated because he was all yours. 

The look he gave you was rapturous as he licked his lips and started to make his way down, leaving a trail of kisses in his wake that dotted across your chest, between the valley of your breasts, down your sternum and the soft pudge of your tummy. You propped yourself up to watch him as his mop of dark curls dipped between your thighs, fingers still sitting snug inside your warm, wet walls. Your chest rose and fell with each deep breath and he could only imagine how hard your heart must be pounding for you to try and slow it like you are.

“I’m gonna try for another, okay?” he soothed. “Stay relaxed for me, beautiful.”

You nodded back and let your head drop down, sinking deep into the embrace of your pillow.

Eddie pumped his fingers a few more times, faster now and crooking them upwards in search of that spot inside you that had eluded him far too long. The deftness of his touch coupled with the eager swipes of his tongue had your body heaving now as he traced a maddening pattern, swirling side to side and weaving it through your center.

Eyes suddenly fluttering open and closed, you whined softly and squirmed in his grasp as his tongue decisively swerved away from where you needed him most. The anticipation made your hips rock into his face, chasing more of the feeling as he teased you relentlessly.

His free arm promptly wrapped around your thigh, his hand gripping at the soft flesh to keep your legs spread apart. He was deeply thorough in his exploration, nose occasionally brushing against your clit that was practically crying out for his attention. His hot breath fanned along your inner thighs and he moaned deeply with each lick so you could feel the vibrations in your core.

You lost track of how long he was down there, allowing yourself to be swept away with the riot of sensations, realizing just a little too late your body was working towards something new. 

The feeling creeps up on you, trickling through your muscles, causing all of them to twitch and spasm, tensing and releasing in waves. Little whines and pants of pleasure start to spill out of your mouth, the desperate little sounds like the most beautiful music to Eddie’s ears.

It makes him grind down into the bed, desperate to hear more.

“Feel good?” he asked, brow lifting behind sweaty bangs as round doe eyes look up at you.

“So g-good,” you panted, the sound almost pained with pleasure. “So sensitive…”

“You taste like heaven, you know that?” he murmurs to your cunt. “I could do this forever.”

He genuinely could, but it seems he won’t have to. You’re getting close now. He can feel it in the way your thighs start to tremble against his ears; the way another gush of you floods across his tongue. His eyes darted sideways to where your hand rests on the blanket, flexing with the need to grab onto something. Anything.

One last time, he squeezed at the meat of your thigh and then unwrapped his arm from around it to reach out instead and thread his fingers with yours. Your grip is bone crushing and only makes him hold on tighter as he points the tip of his tongue to increase its pressure.

“E-Eddie, it feels…something feels different…”

“It’s okay, baby,” he said, the pace of his fingers never faltering. “I’ve got you, just let go.”

He wished he could bottle the look on your face. Eyes scrunched up, brow furrowed as though you were deep in concentration. Lips parted in a wanton gasp as your chest swelled. His mouth came back to your clit, resuming the motions that had you clenching around his fingers.

“Oh…ohhh my…oh, fuck…”

When he feels you starting to unravel, feels that band coiled tight in your core start to snap, it takes everything he has in him to stay the course—especially when the hand of yours he’s not holding winds into his hair and you grasp desperately at his curls. The groan it elicits from him is deep and guttural, the sound of it radiating in the room. And finally he feels it happening—your pussy spasming around his fingers, threatening to snap them clean off you’re clenching so tight; hips bucking and stomach quivering with the effort of drawing breath.

“Fuck, Eddie, don’t stop!” you cried out. “That feels so good, holy fucking shit—”

So much for being quiet, Eddie thought mischievously.

Your head is pushing back into the pillow now, back arching under you, lifting you off the bed. He’s clamped tight against you though, his lips sealed around your clit and sucking like his life depends on it. In a way, it feels like it does.

“I’m gon…I’m gonna…I’m co—”

The words dissolve into a moan, the sound of it higher and louder than anything else Eddie has drawn out of you before. Pride explodes in his chest as he finally feels what he’s been waiting for—that exquisite vice around his fingers as he continues to stroke that sacred spot.

Your body floods with the feeling, waves of it surging through you, seeing white behind your eyes that are still pinched shut. It’s unlike anything you’ve ever felt before—every synapse firing at once, every molecule in your body exploding like a tiny firework.

Distantly, you register his voice coaxing you through it as you reluctantly return to earth. Yes, baby, that’s it, thaaaat’s it—fuck me, you’re so fucking hot when you come, Jesus fucking Christ…

You opened your eyes, blinking through bleary vision as the world came back into focus.

Eddie grinned, smile almost wolfish when he lifted himself from between your legs. Triumph flashed in his dark eyes, his gaze roving all over as he began a slow crawl up your body, his cock now standing at attention with its vigor renewed.

“Okay,” he panted, dragging his hand across his mouth and chin that were slick with your spend as he leaned in to kiss you. “That’s one.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson smut #eddie stranger things #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson fanfiction #stranger things fic #stranger things smut #ok I went back over it and feel a lil better now #so if it suddenly seems longer… #that’s what she said

[collaredkittyboy]

Well it's come up multiple times today so I'll make a post about it.

I think the popularization of the word "twink" has ultimately been really bad for people in general.

I know it's hard to track the positive and negative effects of language but I don't think it's hard to see how creating a word for a group of people wherein the most consistent qualifying trait is "being skinny" is healthy for people's self image. Obviously people have lots of ideas about what it means to be a twink- gay, lacking body hair, feminine, beautiful, young, white- but the most consistent descriptor I've seen is "skinny." Hell, it's even a body type on Grindr; the size below "average."

So it kind of functions as a code word in the gay community: anyone can say that they're only interested in twinks and they don't have to look shallow by saying they only like skinny guys. It's such an accepted attitude that no one really bats an eye when they hear it.

I'm not even going to get into how it's become part of the larger issue of people turning "top" and "bottom" into gender roles 2.0, but that is closely related, because people with any internalized homophobia can look at a skinny, feminine man and turn off their fag alarms by viewing him as a woman or not a "real" man, and it makes twinks more acceptable to society at large.

No, ignoring all of that, one of the biggest issues is that gay men are taught by society that they are only attractive while they are skinny. Just having the label "twink" reminds a boy that people are looking at his body and judging it. There were countless times when I was growing up that people would tell me, "You're such a twink," or argue about whether or not I qualified as a twink because I had body hair. People around you, unpromted, judge your body and give you a label based on it, and that label has a large influence on whether or not you're seen as objectively attractive. I know many other gay people who say they wish they were a twink so they could be more attractive to guys.

So think, you have all these kids growing up being told whether or not they qualify as a twink, and then we have the gay community as a whole where it's completely acceptable to say you're only attracted to twinks. I think its because of all of this pressure to be a twink (in other words, to have a below average weight) that many of the gay people that I interact with struggle with a negative body image or eating disorders.

I mean, people talk about "twink death" like it's an actual event that makes a gay man much less attractive, and no one thinks that, maybe, it's harmful to tell a guy that the very day he stops being young and thin and pretty, he will stop being attractive and celebrated?

I'm not qualified to speak on fatphobia in physical queer spaces because I don't have the ability to frequent them where I live, but I can't imagine that these aren't issues at social gatherings as well. I also can't speak on my own experiences with weight discrimination because so far in my life I have had a naturally thin body, but I have experienced a lot of outside pressure to be thin that have caused me to pick up unhealthy eating habits to reduce my weight in fear that I could become fat later on. Thankfully that is something that I've mostly been able to work past. I'm not an expert, but idk, I just wanted to rant on my silly tumblr blog.

Obviously it's impossible for a word to be inherently bad. I'm not trying to imply that saying "twink" is a magic word with evil powers. Obviously the real issues at play here are fatphobia and harmful beauty standards and body shaming. But in my opinion, the popular use of the word twink has made it much easier and acceptable to express fatphobia, etc, in the gay community by turning "skinny person" into a "type of guy that you should try to be so you can be attractive."

#i know i sound annoying and woke but this is my blog and i can post whatever i want :3 #theres so much more to say but this is long enough as it is #no ones gonna read this anyway #gay #queer issues #fatphobia #cw ed mention

[vivwritesfics]

Fake It Till You Make It - CL16

The Princess of Monaco is wild and out of control. She needs to stop being in the tabloids for all the wrong reasons. Charles Leclerc has had a spot of bad press since his very public break up. He needs some good PR. What better way to fix their problems than to pair them up?

Fake Dating turned real dating trope

6.3K

For the purpose of this story, I have fabricated the royal family of Monaco. I have created the members of the family, their roles and what they do, using only the fact that Monaco has a royal family

ROYAL MESS

In the early hours of the Morning on Friday, the 19th of May, Princess Y/N of Monaco was found lying in the street outside of MK Club Monaco after what appears to be a wild night out. Fans of the princess know this is no new occurrence for her.

When asked, employees in the club were quoted as saying: “It is always a delight to serve the princess. She is always polite and kind when ordering from the bar, always offering to pay for the drinks of those around her."

"Princess Y/N is fun to party with, sure. But she takes it too far, gets too drunk, and leaves us all wondering how far is too far?" Said one club patron to our reporters.

It leaves us all wondering how far is too far for the Princess of Monaco? When will her family finally take action against her partying ways?

Pictures such as these are not uncommon for the Princess of Monaco, showing us just how far royal privilege goes. It is at times like these where we thank any higher power above us that she is just the spare

Y/N's brother threw the newspaper down in front of her. His jaw was tense and his eye twitched, having just read out the entire article. "Seriously?" He said and leaned forward on his desk, staring down at his sister.

"I don't know what you're so upset about," Y/N muttered as she picked at the dirt beneath her nails. "You're not in the article."

Her brother, Herni, Prince of Monaco, let out a huff. He wanted to grip his hair and pull out of frustration, but he couldn't do that, he had to be pristine and perfect.

For years he and his family had been working to try and improve Y/N's image. It was no easy task. Well, Y/N certainly didn't make it easy. The royal family had tried to control the press, control what the night clubs were saying; they had tried to control Y/N, but none of it was working.

Henri was at his wits end.

He stood straight and turned around, looking towards the window. "How do you not understand that your actions reflect our entire family? That this shit makes all of us look bad, not just you?"

"Like the article said, I'm just the spare," she spat back, not looking up from her nails.

"Oh, don't give me that shit." Henri tried to keep his composure calm, tried not to lose his shit, but Y/N was making it very, very hard. "You're just a spoiled, little brat," he hissed.

Y/N let out a dry laugh. "I'm the selfish one? Seriously, Henri?" She called and he shot her a dirty, venomous look. So, she continued. "Who was it that threw a tantrum like a child when he didn't get the Ferrari 250 GTO for twenty-third birthday?"

Her brother glared, easily hiding his surprise that she remembered the name of the car he had so desperately wanted seven years ago.

But then Henri dropped his glare. She was just lashing out because she was pissed off about the article, he realised as he sat in his seat. "Go on, get out of here," he said to her, his head falling into his hands. He grabbed the newspaper article and slipped it back into his desk drawer.

Y/N didn't have a job. She was twenty-two, living fast and living off her family. Her family had tried to force her to get a job, but that had only pushed her into being more wild and out of control. Henri, though, he had a job. Their father had given him the important task of keeping an eye on Y/N and putting out her fires. It was an exhausting job, one that had him losing sleep.

He had to do something, he had no idea what.

There was one thing Henri could force his sister to do. And that was attend the Monaco Grand Prix.

Every year Henri and Y/N went to the Monaco Grand Prix. Y/N could still remember the first time she ever attended the Monaco Grand Prix. She was just ten years old, an eighteen year old Henri holding her hand as they walked through the paddock. She remembered standing up on the podium, watching as her brother gave a trophy to Jenson Button, and going to give Fernando Alonso a trophy of his own.

This happened every year. And, every year since she was a little girl, Y/N looked forward to seeing Fernando Alonso. The Spaniard always seemed to remember her, always greeting her with a kind, wide smile. Although Y/N loved the races, this was her favourite part of the weekend.

Because she really did love the races. As much as she tried to act nonchalant, Henri knew she loved it, loved the sounds of the cars as they came driving past.

This year, Henri kept Y/N in front of him as they walked through the paddock, waving at the drivers and the teams. The Grand Prix was full of celebrities, as it was every year. And, as with every year, Y/N and Henri were the talk of the town.

In the Red Bull garage, Y/N and Henri met Tom Holland, the Spider-Man, who was awestruck. He couldn't quite believe it as the youngest member of the Monaco Royal Family stood in front of him, talking to him about his role as Peter Parker.

At the Aston Martin garage, Y/N ran straight into Fernando's arms. "There she is," he said as she hugged him back. The bond Y/N had with Fernando was special. They'd saw each other only once a year at the Monaco Grand Prix and, in a weird way, it was like he had watched her grow up right in front of his eyes.

He knew of her partying ways and it worried him, just like it would a father to his daughter. "How have you been?" He asked, his Spanish accent thick.

As Henri moved onto the Ferrari garage, his favourite garage, as Y/N chatted to Fernando. Her favourite garage was wherever Fernando was, and she wasn't afraid to admit that. They caught up on the last year and Fernando introduced her to his teammate, a man Y/N had only met briefly before.

In the Ferrari garage, Henri said hello to Carlos Sainz. Carlos and Henri had always been friendly, that friendliness growing into some kind of friendship when he moved to Ferrari.

But then then was Charles Leclerc.

Herni loved Charles. He had several of his old F1 cars, including one of his Sauber cars, in his private collection. He'd been following Charles's career closely as he represented their country. The day he had his first win in Monaco was going to be a big day for Henri.

"Ah, Charles!" Henri called as he spotted him, already in his race overalls.

The overalls themselves were red and white, matching the flag of Monaco. Charles grinned when he saw Henri, striding over to the prince. "How are you? How is your sister?" He asked as they walked together through the Ferrari garage.

Henri pulled a face. "She is... she is Y/N," he answered with a curt nod. "Anyway, how about you? How is your season going?" He asked.

Charles gave a pained smile, and that was answer enough for Henri. "Ah," he said as they continued to walk. "Well, today will be your day."

The pair continued to chat as they walked through the paddock, catching up like old friends. Because, by this point, they were old friends. Herni asked about Charles's family and his plans for the summer break, and about his girlfriend.

Again, Charles gave Henri a look. "Ah, no girlfriend," Henri said and Charles nodded.

"I got a bit of bad publicity from it," Charles said. "I'm surprised you didn't hear about it."

Suddenly, Henri got an idea. An incredible, wonderful, terrible idea. He looked at his friend, wearing a grin, and said, "I think we can help each other out."

It was clear Charles was confused. So, Henri continued. "My sister wild and out of control," he said. "She needs somebody to get her imagine under control, and you need some good publicity. Take my sister on a couple of dates, take her to some grand prix and it'll make the both of you look good."

Charles suddenly frowned. "What? Henri, we can't do that," he said.

Henri checked his watch. The race was bound to start any moment now, he needed to grab Y/N and go sit. "Think about it," he said to Charles, wished him good luck, and went back to the Aston Martin garage to find his sister.

Henri didn't say anything to his sister as they watched the race. They watched Charles go from pole to second, Henri trying not to let the disappointment show on his face as he watched Y/N give Charles his second place trophy.

There was a good few weeks where Henri didn't hear anything from Charles. So, he didn't say anything to Y/N, whilst also trying to get her under control.

It wasn't working; Henri was close to begging. He kept an eye out for Charles's name in the press, looking for that bad bit of publicity he was talking about. And there was a lot of it, international news outlets accusing Charles of cheating, saying his bad start to the season was because of Karma.

It wasn't looking good for him, thought Henri as his phone vibrated.

He picked it up and read through his messages.

Charles Leclerc

I'm in

***

It was rare for Y/N and Henri to eat dinner together. He was always busy and she didn't give a shit. But, today, Henri insisted.

They sat across from each other, a ridiculously long table between them. Any attempt at conversation was near to impossible with the distance between them.

So, with no thought of decorum, Y/N picked up her dinner and moved down the table coming to sit right beside her brother. "What were you saying?" She asked as she tucked into her dinner.

Henri cleared his throat. "I've been speaking with Charles Leclerc."

"Okay?" Y/N looked up at him, her brows furrowed. "Good for you, Hen."

"Just listen, please," he insisted and Y/N fell quiet, returning her attention back to her food. "Its been decided by your PR team, dad, and I, that it would be best if you were seen to be with someone more... presentable. And our friend Charles if also in need of a bit of good press at the minute."

"So you want me to fake date Charles Leclerc?"

Henri nodded his head. "Not fake date him, exactly. Just be seen with him."

Y/N sat back, tapping her fork against her plate. "Okay, why should I?"

Grinning, Henri used his fork to scoop everything into a pile on his plate. "Because, if you keep up with your partying lifestyle, we're cutting you off."

She said nothing. Throwing her fork down, she pushed her chair back and stormed off.

That was the thing with Y/N. She didn’t care for propriety or her image. She did what she wanted, without much thought of how it made the royal family of Monaco. She was the weekly scandal in the newspaper, the wild child.

Henri’s head fell into his hands.

For the next week, while Charles was away from Monaco at another race, Henri set everything up. He booked out a restaurant for them, picked out something for his sister to wear and prepared her for her date with a script. Henri was controlling everything. He had every move planned out and had Y/N run through it with him several times.

He was a complete control freak.

For the date, Henri gave his sister a set of rules. Charles was his friend, after all, and this was a PR stunt. Anything he could do to prevent Y/N from embarrassing the royal family any further.

That was how she found herself in an empty restaurant, an almost empty glass of wine in front of her. Charles Leclerc hadn’t arrived at the restaurant yet; fashionably late, Y/N assumed. She was five minutes away from leaving.

But then he walked in. It was not possible for this man to look bad, Y/N realised as he strode towards her. His outfit was simple, a white shirt, buttoned almost to the top (just revealing a bit of chest) and a pair of black trousers. His hair had that usual fluff, that he seemed to achieve effortlessly.

Y/N had seen pictures of him online since his career began. He always looked good, so it was no surprise he did now.

"I'm sorry I'm late," he said as he sat in the seat opposite her.

As if to prove a point, the princess finished her drink and placed her glass down. There was a flash to her left, a camera going off. But she didn't care - Henri could put out the fire he created.

Henri had given her a script, but Y/N wasn't going to follow it. That was boring. "Your brother is in F2, right?" Asked Y/N as food was brought over to them (Henri had decided what they were going to eat when he booked out the restaurant, arranging the food to be brought over as soon as Charles arrived).

Charles looked at her, clearly confused. "Um, yes," he answered. "He's with the Ferrari Drivers Academy," he said and took a sip of his own drink. "What is it that you do?"

She snorted. She hasn't meant to snort, but she couldn't help it. "I'm a princess, what do you think I do?"

But it wasn't clear. To Charles, it seemed like all she did was party. According to her brother, all she did was party. So Charles couldn't be blamed to think that.

He didn't answer her. This dinner wasn't going too well. That much was clear to everyone.

Letting out a sigh, Y/N sat back in her seat. "We need to make this look good," she said, glancing to her left. At the paparazzi not quite hidden in a bush outside of the restaurant. "You know what the news articles will be, right? 'Monaco Royalty... something something else."

Charles thought for a moment. The restaurant wasn't the right setting, this was clear.

So, he finished his drink and looked across the table, at the princess sat opposite him. "Do you want to get out of here?"

Fuck yeah Y/N wanted to get out of here. She grabbed her coat and, together, she and Charles walked out of the restaurant. A crowd of paparazzi followed them as they made their way to Charles's Ferrari SF90 Stradale.

It was a beautiful car, one Henri had wanted for the longest time. He he was going to flip his lid once he learnt that Y/N had been inside of it.

The paparazzi continued taking pictures of them as they drove off. "Where are we going?" She asked as he drove her through the streets of Monaco.

Y/N and Charles found themselves in a bar, three drinks deep. They talked casually, more like acquaintances than anything else.

Nothing happened in the bar, they just got to know each other a little better, without the awkward conversation of a formal dinner. Y/N found out about his love for music and he learnt that she was more than a just a party girl.

The next morning Y/N woke up in one of the many guest rooms with a pounding headache. She didn't remember getting back to the palace and was still in her dress from the night before. "Shit," she groaned, the light shining through her windows hurting her eyes.

She sat up and ran her hands through her knotted hair. Painkillers. She needed painkillers and she needed them now.

With no clothes to change into, she searched through the drawers for the much needed painkillers. And when she didn't find any, she made her way to her brothers office. "Henri," she sang as she pushed her way inside. And then she was leaning against the door, holding his head.

"I did it, I went on a date with Charles Leclerc."

"Well done," Henri said as he sat back in his chair. "He's taking you to Canada next week, so pack warm," he said and went back to his work.

Y/N glared at her brother and stormed off, making her way back to bed.

***

Canada. The only reason Y/N agreed to go was to see Fernando Alonso. She was there as Charles Leclerc's guest, but she didn't care. She ran straight to the Aston Martin garage, ran straight over to Fernando.

The Spaniard was surprised to see her, that much was clear. "What're you doing here?" He asked as she threw her arms around him.

Y/N swallowed the lump in her throat. "I'm here as Charles's guest," she answered.

Fernando's eyes went wide. "Really?" He asked, his brows furrowing.

"I know," she answered.

It really was a surprise. Fernando had never even seen the princess of Monaco so much as interact with the Monégasque driver. He knew Prince Henri was a fan, but he didn't know Y/N was. So, he asked about it.

She didn't want to lie to Fernando. But she had to seel it. For the sake of the tabloids, she had to sell it. "Well, we met at the Grand Prix, hit it off, and the next thing I knew, we were going to dinner together."

"Dinner together? Wow," said Fernando. "So, do you want me to go easy on him out there?"

Grinning, she shook her head. "You do what you need to do to bring home a win for us Aston Martin fans," she said.

They said their goodbyes and Y/N made her way to the Ferrari garage.

It wasn't as if she and Charles knew each other; they'd drunkenly discussed things, but that was it. But now, she was playing the girlfriend, tucked into his side as he kept his arm wrapped around her. Before the race he held her close and she tried her best not to look uncomfortable. Play the part. All she had to do was play the part.

During the race she stayed in the Ferrari garage, watching alongside Charles's brother. Y/N had met Arthur before, she just couldn't remember where.

"So you're dating my brother?" Asked Arthur as they watched the race.

Y/N kept her eyes fixed on the screen and nodded her head.

"How did that happen?"

She just pretended not to hear him.

This went on and on, the pair going on the odd date in random countries and Y/N joining him at races. But they were putting on a performance around each other, trying to play that part. They weren't being themselves and, therefore, not getting to know each other.

She'd joined Charles in Silverstone. They'd held hands as they walked through the paddock, smiling and waving at cheering fans. Their relationship was public knowledge now and, first the first time in the last four years, she wasn't in the tabloids for a bad reason.

Henri had arranged a date in Monaco for the pair once they got back from the British Grand Prix. They flew back with Pierre Gasly, an old friend of Charles. Y/N had only met Pierre earlier that year, in Monaco when her brother had introduced them.

Pierre was good fun for the flight home. But, by the time they got there, Y/N was exhausted. She wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed and shut her eyes. Looking at Charles, their was no doubt that he was just as tired as she was; he was the athlete after all.

As he drove, he blinked continuously and rapidly, his tiredness evident. Her apartment was just around the corner, she realised as they were stuck in traffic. It wouldn't be the worst thing if they blew off the dinner, right?

"I live near here," she said, looking at him.

Charles blinked as he looked at the stationary cars in front of him. "Am I not taking you to dinner?" He asked, somewhat surprised.

"Well, I was thinking we could go back to my apartment and eat some pizza," she said.

"But what do we have to gain from that?"

That was right, everything they were doing had an objective. Everything they were doing had a purpose. Having dinner in her apartment, where there were no cameras to watch them, had no purpose.

"We wouldn't die on the road from you being so tired if we went back to mine."

Charles realised she had a point. When the traffic began moving, he took her directions and drover to her apartment. They made their way inside, practically collapsing on the couch.

"Sorry for the state of it," Y/N muttered as Charles sat on the sofa beside her.

Her apartment really was a mess. Clothes, dirty dishes, pizza boxes everywhere. It wasn't very royal of her. "Don't worry about it," he said quietly as Y/N gathered up the dishes and placed them on the counter in the adjacent kitchen.

Charles didn't want to ask, but he was wondering how the apartment of the Princess of Monaco was so disgusting. He hadn't even realised she had an apartment of her own, assumed she just lived at the palace.

"Can I get you something to drink?" Asked Y/N as soon as she had ordered the cheese and pepperoni pizzas. It was a safe choice, considering she didn't know what Charles wanted. "I've got beers, wine, spirits, anything you want."

She didn't hide her surprise when Charles requested a beer. "I thought you were all... fancy and stuff," she said as she handed him the opened bottle.

"The princess of Monaco is passing me a beer and she thinks I'm fancy," he said with a laugh.

But he was undeniably tired. His laugh turned into a yawn and Y/N turned on the television. They watched in silence as they waited for the pizza to arrive.

"I didn't think you'd be allowed to eat pizza," said Y/N as she checked her phone, checked where abouts the delivery driver was. Just a few minutes away. "You know, considering you're an athlete."

"I won't tell my trainer if you won't," he answered.

Just a few minutes later and Y/N was running to get the pizza. She didn't have to worry about disguising herself, running down to the lobby of the apartment in her comfiest pyjamas. She wasn't like her brother, where he was always prim and proper; she hid in plain sight.

When she came back up with the pizzas, Charles was already snoring lightly on the sofa. Y/N would have left him to sleep, left him on the sofa, but he hadn't eaten since his race. As soon as he'd eaten something, she'd let him go to sleep.

So, she gently woke him, placing one of the pizza boxes in front of him.

Again, they were in silence as they ate. But the food was giving them some sort of strength and energy and, by the time they were finished, neither were quite ready to go to sleep.

So, they talked. They talked and talked, properly getting to know each other. Charles told her stories of his karting days, of his friendship with those on the grid. Y/N told him about her childhood as a princess and her friendship with Fernando Alonso. She didn't get into the subject of her partying habit, not when she realised she didn't miss it.

"No way," Y/N scoffed, sipping her beer.

Charles laughed as he nodded his head. "Seriously. I woke up shouting 'box box'!" He insisted.

She let out a laugh of her own. "Looks like I'll need to have words with the strategists."

Their evening continued much in this fashion. She hadn't realised he was an artist, not until he showed her some music that he hadn't yet released. He was a talented pianist, and Y/N couldn't stop herself from calling him a tortured artist.

There was no way she was going to let him sleep on the sofa. That would be like letting the Queen of England sleep in the dog house. So, she let Charles sleep in her bed, a wall of pillows keeping them separated.

***

There was a shift in their relationship dynamic after that. Things came easier to them. They were still faking it, but they weren't putting on a performance anymore. It was natural.

When they weren't together, she found herself texting him. Any time she had something to say, she texted him, without caring whether he had time to text her back yet. When Y/N wasn't at a grand prix, Charles was pictured laughing at his phone, and everybody knew who he was texting

CL16

what do you want your contact picture to be?

Please don't make it something embarrassing

Oh come on, Charles

I doubt there are any embarrassing pictures of you

okay i take it back

oh god

look at this little guy

you were so cute

what happened?

Hey!

I'm still cute!

The ladies love me

sure they do, sunshine

She found herself sending him anything and everything that made her laugh. Whether they knew of this shift, it wasn't clear.

But Henri certainly did.

The next part of this story takes place during the Belgian Grand Prix. Y/N hadn't attended. She'd been to the last few and, for once, her brother wanted to spend time with her.

"I'm impressed," Henri said as they sat on the balcony, tea in front of them. "You're selling this whole relationship really well."

But his sister wasn't listening. Instead, she was giggling down at her phone as she texted. "Y/N," Henri prompted and she looked up from the phone. "Can you put it down? I'm trying to have a conversation with you."

Reluctantly, Y/N put her phone on the table. "What were you saying, Hen?" She asked and picked up her little tea cup. The rim was decorated with pink, yellow and purple flowers.

"I was saying that you've really made this relationship with Charles look real. If I didn't know better, I really would think you were dating," said Henri. He straightened his posture and sipped his tea. "What is he doing during summer break?"

She shrugged her shoulders. Summer break was something they'd only briefly talked about, while Y/N was in his apartment, trying out his sim rig (spoiler alert, she was fucking terrible at sim racing. But it was still good fun, pretending to be her pretend boyfriend). He'd invited her on his yacht by literally saying, "join me on my yacht during summer?"

It was an invitation Y/N couldn't turn down, so she just said, "sure."

Henri continued. "Why don't you invite him to the palace for dinner?"

That was too much of a step into real relationship territory. Immediately she shook her head. "You do know that he isn't actually my boyfriend, right?" She pressed, placing her teacup back down onto the saucer.

Henri waved her off. "I know, I know," he said. "It would just be nice, you know?"

Suddenly Y/N felt a little sick. This was skidding way too far into relationship territory. Fake boyfriends didn't have dinner with her family, fake boyfriends didn't take him to her apartment just because he could.

The next time she saw Charles, Y/N was on his yacht. She laid in the sun, arm across her stomach and her eyes shut. It was lovely, so fucking lovely.

Charles sat beside her, passing her a drink. "Thank you, Charlie," she said with a smile as she sat up. "Best fake boyfriend ever." He patted her knee and stayed at beside her as the yacht gently moved on the water.

They spoke and, as they spoke, Y/N realised they never spoke about how fake their relationship was. In fact, Charles wasn't acting as though their relationship was fake. Even as they walked to his apartment, through the building and away from prying eyes, he still held her hand.

When she sat on his yacht, talking to him about whatever, he kept his hand on her knee.

As they day got later, the two began drinking. "To us," He called and tapped his glass against Y/N.

"To us," Y/N repeated and drank her drink. They slept on the yacht that night, with Y/N changing from her swim wear into something a little warmer as the sun disappeared.

They ate together, drank together, and just spent time together. It was nice, giggling and leaning on each other. Charles just loved spending time with her, it seemed. He gave her his hoodie when she shivered and, when that wasn't enough, he tucked her into his side.

They were both getting tired and were both ready to go to bed. Y/N glanced up at him from her place against his side. That was when he leaned down to kiss her.

Y/N stood up immediately. "Woah, what the fuck?" She cried as she jumped away from him. "Charles, what the hell are you doing?"

"I... Just thought..."

"Well you thought wrong!"

Y/N stormed off, heading to the bedroom. She set up the bed, placing the cushions between them. They'd slept in the same bed several times since that very first time in her apartment, but hadn't since.

The next day, she got Charles to take to back to the marina. Whether paparazzi saw them or not, she didn't care as she stormed away from him without so much as a goodbye.

OFF THE RAILS

Just when we thought things were looking up for the Monégasque Princess, it seems she is, once again, off the rails.

Princess Y/N has spent the last few months seemingly dating Formula One driver, Charles Leclerc. In this time, it appeared that the princess had halted her wild ways. The clubs she so often frequented were quiet without her presence.

But, after a rocky night on his luxury yacht, the couple appeared to go their separate ways. The Princess was seen storming away from the yacht on Monday morning.

Fans had been hoping that this was just a little spat between the popular couple, but after the Princess was spotted partying in Monaco just the night previous, fans soon lost hope.

She'd done so well staying in the medias good books for the last few months. But, ever since that night on the yacht, Y/N needed to get out. She needed to get out and have a wild night.

She'd never been a relationship person. When Charles had gone to kiss her, she'd been terrified. Why be in a relationship person when every relationship you've had was somebody trying to screw you over?

Because she had loved every minute with Charles. Every fucking minute. For once it felt like she wasn't being used, and they weren't even in a relationship. But Y/N couldn't see a future with him, not one where at least one of them didn't get hurt.

So, she ran away from it. She ran from him and her feelings, ran back into the embrace of the bottle. She partied the night away without caring who saw it.

Of course Charles saw it. It was the first thing he saw when he opened any form of social media. Her face plastered across his screen. Her in a low cut dress that perfectly showed off her figure. He sucked in a breath. She was meant to be his girl, and she didn't want him.

Even though they weren't together anymore, Y/N did stop with the partying. She calmed down immensely, no longer appearing in the tabloids. No longer appearing anywhere, actually.

Charles tried his best to forget about her. He didn't sleep around, he just put all of his energy into his work. He took sponsorship deals, did photoshoots and spent all of his time training. All to get Y/N out of his head.

Well, it didn't work. Charles couldn't forget about her. It was taking everything in him not to go to her apartment and tell her how he had fallen for her while they were supposed to be pretending to date.

Charles messaged Henri, asked how Y/N was doing, but Henri didn't seem to know.

That was because she hadn't been seen outside of her apartment in weeks.

When Henri told Charles, he knew he had to do something.

After attending the Italian Grand Prix alone, Charles made his way to Y/N's apartment. He had all of his things, having not made his way back to his own apartment.

When he knocked on her door, there was a moment before anything happened. He listened out, listening as she got off of the couch with a groan and walked over to the door.

The girl that answered the door was the girl that Charles was in love with, but she was hard to recognise. Hair a mess, bags under her eyes, wearing clothes that hadn't been washed in days.

When she pulled open the door, her face dropped. "Oh," she muttered, leaning against the door, not letting him see the mess inside. "What are you doing here?"

"Your brother told me you're not doing good."

"So?"

She was so quick to shut him down, to try and get him away from her apartment.

But, Charles pushed on. "So, I came to check on you. I'm worried about you."

Finally, she pushed open the door and allowed him inside.

The apartment was a state. Trash everywhere, dirty clothes about the floor, all of her dishes used and piled up around the apartment. There was half eaten food that was definitely rotting.

"Shit, Y/N," said Charles as she pushed the door shut.

She glared and threw herself back down onto the sofa. "Oh, fuck off," she said.

Charles sat on the end of the couch. It was the only place in the apartment that filthy. "I just want to help you," he said and began picking up the clothes on her floor.

And then Y/N sat up, causing Charles to stop what he was doing. "Why? Our entire relationship was fake, so why do you care?" She spat.

"Because." Charles stood up a little straighter, dropping her clothes into a little pile. "Because I love you. I know we were only fake dating, but it felt so real! And I realised that I actually do love you! I want to date you for real! I want to be the best real boyfriend ever, not the best fake boyfriend ever!" He exclaimed. "I don't know why you're so opposed to the idea. Those dates we went one, the ones after that first night in your apartment, they were amazing. I wouldn't have invited you to my yacht if I didn't seriously like you."

Y/N scoffed sarcastically. "Sure you do, Charles. Sure you, a world famous Formula One driver who can have anybody he wants, wants me, the troubled spare, the princess that nobody wants." She said it quietly, picking at her nails.

He leaned down in front of her, taking her hand in his and kissing the back of it. "I do. I really do want to be with you. Princess Y/N of Monaco, I want to take you on dates and I want you to join me at races. I want to show you off in the paddock and I want to take you on my yacht, kissing you with your permission. I want you, Y/N."

But the way she looked at him, she looked ready to cry. "I can't do heartbreak," she said and pulled her hand away from his. "Not with you, Charles. I can't handle you breaking my heart," she said and stood up.

Charles suddenly pulled her close. "I won't break your heart," he whispered and kissed the top of her head. "Now, go take a shower. I'll sort out... all of this."

Y/N did just that. She turned on the water and hopped into the shower as Charles picked up the rubbish. Mainly empty wrappers and bottles of soft drinks. There were plenty of pizza boxes that he shoved behind the bin, just for the time being. After that, Charles picked up her clothes from the floor. He shoved what he could into her washing machine and turned it on, leaving to pick up the plates.

When Y/N hopped out of the shower, the apartment wasn't clean. But it was better. The floor was now visible. As Charles cleared up the space between the couch and the television, Y/N set about washing the dishes.

"Pizza?" Charles offered as he walked over with some half full glasses and cups.

But Y/N shook her head as she scrubbed a bowl that was once full of cereal. "You know, for the first time in a while, I'm not feeling like pizza."

"We'll get you something better, then," Charles said and set about ordering food.

They sat on the couch, Y/N in the last of her clean clothes, tucked into his side. "If we're gonna try this, we'll need to go on proper dates," she muttered, her head against his chest. "And, eventually, you'll need to come and have dinner with my family."

Charles let out a laugh. "Relax, chérie, we're gonna take it one step at a time."

One step at a time.

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc x reader smut #charles leclerc x you #formula one #formula one imagine #formula one x reader #f1 #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #cl16 #cl16 imagine #cl16 x reader

[zyafics]

play fake | part seven

series play fake — ( masterlist )

pairing rafe cameron x female reader

summary when rafe cameron needs to secure a gf in order for his father to see him as a stable man, he enlists the help of a bartender who wants nothing to do with him.

content 18+, eventual smut, angst, fake-dating, jealousy, people-pleasing and independent! female reader, ward cameron pinning rafe and sarah against each other, rafe being an asshole

𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃 ⋆.˚ ⋆.˚ ⋆.˚ ⋆.˚

It's easy for you to pretend everything's fine.

You've been worried about the whole Aaron situation for the past week, but you couldn't let that be known. You were handling it—best you could—but, at least, it sets your priorities a bit straighter. You realize whatever the outcome is, you need Rafe to get this job.

So, you were going to play the hell out of the girlfriend role.

To get ready, Rafe picks you up from Sailor to take you to Tannyhill. This time, when you got into the car, it was met with complete silence.

"Hey," you greet, to which Rafe says nothing as he reverses out of the lot and returns to the road. You remember that Rafe doesn't function normally whenever he has these types of events. He's probably nervous about the upcoming gala, a need to impress his father once more and prove to Ward that he's capable. You don't hold it against him. "Okay, then."

You settle back against the leather seat. You weren't going to let him ruin your performance; the curated mood you set up for tonight. You were going to hold out till the gala was over.

Rafe glances over to you once he knows you're looking away. Your chin tucked in your palm as you watch the scenery outside the window. Something pinch in his chest.

His right hand slides over your thigh, exposed from your short work attire, and the warm touch surprises you. You turn back to the blond, tilting your head with a small smile. "Ready to talk to me?"

"Don't push it."

You laugh and the tension in his shoulders loosens. The sound always feels like a constant mark of normalcy.

"Who's watching your sisters tonight?"

"Huh?" You respond, the question caught you off-guard and you wonder if you misheard him. "Oh. Oh. I got a babysitter for them. They should be fine till tomorrow."

He nods, knowing he shouldn’t have asked but having done it anyway. "You could've let them stay at Tannyhill. I have people to watch them for free."

He pauses, holding his breath as he waits for your response. Very few people get this offer and the fear of rejection hangs over him.

"Nice try, darling," you tease, falling back to a sense of comfort, "but I'm fine. I got it figured out."

He‘s not surprised by your answer, but it annoys him nonetheless.

When you reach Tannyhill, you didn't bother to wait for Rafe to give you the boyfriend experience. You knew he wouldn't. Instead, you went ahead and opened the car door yourself, heading straight for the porch.

Rafe was just about to cross over to the passenger side.

Following suit, he unlocks the front door and grants you entry. You step inside, reveling in the details of the estate. Despite only being here a few times, you can recall the key pieces of the house—the crystal chandelier with dangling pendants, the cabinets of beautiful collector items from the Bahamas, the flowery display that Rose curates in her free time. You immediately check off all their placement in your head, strolling over to the staircase to ascend.

"Know your way around my house, huh?" Rafe taunts, sticking his hands in his pockets. You glance over your shoulders with an easy grin.

"Just trying to take notes for the next Mrs. Cameron. Don't worry, it's not for me." You wink, turning back around before you notice the way his smile falls flat.

Reaching Rafe's bedroom, you step into the familiar space and eyed it with suspicion. From social media, you saw that Rafe went to a party right after hooking up with you the other day. You will never admit it to him but you wanted to catch if there's any evidence of another woman.

But instead of finding a pair of panties on the floor, you find the red tulips sitting on his desk. Your guards lower.

After he gifted them to you, you cut off the ends and put it in a glass vase in hopes of rejuvenating the flowers. It worked. You nearly forgot about it since you haven't visited since that day, but you were surprised he kept it after all this time.

You turn around to Rafe once he enters. "You like tulips now?" You tease, to which he glances over to the bouquet.

"I forgot to throw them away."

"Sure." You hum, partially unconvinced but deciding not to take any deeper meaning to it. He probably did. "Well, I'm going to go get ready."

You head into the ensuite, dropping your bags on the floor. As you change into your dress, curl your hair, and put on your makeup, you realize you forgot your lipstick.

Searching through your bag and throwing out used brushes into the sink, leaving a powdered mess, you still couldn't find it anywhere. You frown, "dammit."

Your attire feels incomplete without it, but you're not going to cry over this miscalculation. Stepping out, you find Rafe, fitted with his tailored black suit, sitting at his desk and reading a file in his hands. His concentration breaks when he hears you exit. 

His eyes scan over your figure and, while he knows he's already seen you in this before, it does nothing to minimize how captivating you truly look in the dress. The dress he bought. "You look amazing," he murmurs, causing heat to rise to your cheeks.

"Thank you." You say with a laugh, uncomfortable at the way his attention is set on you. You need to expel it. "Unfortunately, I don't have any lipstick on. I probably left it at home."

"You mean this?" He picks something off his counter and holds it out to you and, lo and behold, it was your lipstick.

"Where'd you get that?"

"You left it here," he declares, lifting to his feet and approaching you with it. "The maids were going to throw it away but I assumed that..." He trails off, his eyes finding yours.

"That I wouldn't be able to afford another one?" You supply with a forced smile, knowing it squeezes your chest at how Rafe sees you. A Pogue who can't afford many luxuries. "Don't worry, Kook, it's like seven dollars, I would've bought another one."

That wasn't what he meant.

He remembered that you didn't let him buy you another one so he figured you wouldn't allow him to replace it either. But, he didn't know how to say that without coming off pathetic.

Instead, he returned it to its rightful owner.

Grateful, you take it out of his hand and begin to apply it right there. He watches you as you do, the freshness of plump lips replaced with a coat of red. "How'd I look?"

Kissable. Rafe swallows hard, tearing his eyes away and finding the empty space around your neck.

"Where's your necklace?"

You twist the cap back on the lipstick, tipping your head to the bathroom. "In there. I was going to put it on later."

"Let me put it on for you."

You blink up at him from the sudden offer. "You want to?"

He shrugs. He feels like he's playing a silent dance with you, hoping you’ll take the next step.

A small smile curls on your scarlet-stained lips and a flutter of butterflies release in your stomach. "Okay, come on," you take his hand, pulling him in front of the sink where you left your brushes, "don't worry about that, I'll clean it later."

Rafe honestly didn't mind. He likes the idea of you making a mess in his bathroom, the counter littered with your things. It shows that you were here. "Make sure to make it spotless. I don't want to see this shit tomorrow."

You roll your eyes and pull out the small box wrapped with a golden ribbon. "Yes, darling," you say with a mock, "would never want to disappoint the Kook prince."

He's used to feeling pride in being from Figure Eight, but something about the way you use Kook makes him wish he wasn't.

You take out the necklace from the box, internally reprimanding yourself at how expensive the piece is—knowing how it could be well-spent paying back Aaron—before handing it over to Rafe.

He places it over your neckline, pushing your styled hair to the side for full exposure. You watch him through the mirror, his concentration pinned on clasping the small hole.

"What were you working on?" You ask, filling in the silence as you refer to the file.

"A case for my dad." He explains, frustration slowly building in him because the hook won't puncture through the complicated loop. "He wants to close this deal tonight with one of his partners but they're refusing to budge."

You nod just as you hear him release a swear under his breath, his brows crinkled together and his patience thinning. You know the look. "It's okay," you comfort with a gentle tone, "take your time. It's not going anywhere."

It won't slip through. "I should've gotten you another necklace."

"I guess someone should've listened to me." You tease with a chuckle. Rafe flicks his gaze to meet yours in the reflection, watching your smile, no judgment in sight. His shoulders slacken a bit. "I guess it proves that you should always listen to your girlfriend. What's that saying? Happy wife, happy life?"

"We're not fucking married." He announces bluntly without much thought, his focus too wrapped up on the stupid chain. Your smile falters. Right, you got too carried away in your role. He clasps the ends together. "Finally."

You nod your head in gratitude as you silently slip out of the bathroom once again, making your way to the dresser where you left your purse. Your eyes gloss over the opened file on the desk and you stop in your tracks.

"Wait, I know him." You point to the paperwork, glancing over your shoulders to find Rafe. "He's that guy that owns the hotel chains for the tourists. The one who just bought up all that land near the marsh."

Rafe nods, picking it up. "Yeah. Cameron Development wants it but he handed the negotiation off to his daughter. She doesn't wanna talk and plans on proceeding with the original blueprint."

"But that doesn't make sense." You frown, plucking the case out of his hand. You look through the information. He lets you. "That land isn't a good location for a hotel. It's too close to the wilderness protection area for endangered species. They're going to get hell from the FWS."

Rafe stares back at your assessment. "What?"

"Look," you point to the map where he highlighted where the land is going to be used. "This is where the marsh is. This is where the hotel is going to be built. If you use that land, you'll disrupt the ecosystem and it's going to fuck you over later by the government."

He shakes his head, disagreeing. "We planned ahead for that."

"No. You only minimize it. You're going to cut off a main water source. It'll dry out the fishes and marines. You may be able to hold off the feds for a couple of years but I'm willing to bet it won't last longer than five. Max."

He's watching you, the way your brows knit together and your lips purse as you examine the case. "How do you know all that?"

"I work on the docks," you shrug, giving back the file to Rafe. "Heyward has been talking about how some Kook hotel magnate is planning on restricting a part of the marsh where they make their living. It's worrying them."

Rafe says nothing, glancing back down to the papers. "Well, Cameron Development was planning on using it for residential housing."

You shake your head, settling on the end of his mattress. It's so soft, unlike the one you have back home. "I wouldn't suggest that either."

He knows he shouldn't be taking suggestions from a bartender, but something in the way you held your ground makes him consider otherwise. "Why not?"

"Other than disrupting people’s livelihood? You don't want an alligator to end up on someone's back porch and they can't shoot it because it's part of the endangered species list. The lawsuits would be a nightmare."

What you don't explain to him is that you learned a lot of this because of what your parents drilled in you. They discussed local politics often. They believed it's important to have an understanding about your community and to know when certain corporations or people are about to harm it. That's what Kooks often forget.

"I mean, do what you want but that's my honest opinion." You conclude with a shrug. At the end of the day, it’s not your business.

Rafe watches as you lay back against his bed with a sigh. Your dress riding up; the high slit revealing more of your skin.

He has nothing else to say to that—to you—because, in some ways, you're right. You come in here and break down a problem he spent the past three days trying to figure out. It's maddening how incredible you are.

He throws the case onto the desk. His focus now pinned on you as his knees sink to the space beside your hips and he hovers over you, strong arms pressed next to your head.

"You're pretty smart then, huh?" He goads, his eyes scanning over your face. The necklace tangled with his initials. How you look under him.

You grin. "I told you. I'm not just a Pogue with no brains."

You're referring to his insult at the bar, the insulating that you weren't smart enough because you were from The Cut. He couldn't believe you remembered that.

He should apologize.

No one taught him how.

He changes the subject. "So why is someone like you, who clearly has a knack for these types of things, running a rundown bar in the middle of the docks?"

Rafe doesn't recognize your smile slipping off, just slightly. You don't immediately answer him. Your hand raises to cup the side of his profile.

"Are we going to keep discussing business or are you going to kiss me?" You challenge, because that's the best way to avoid these types of conversations with Rafe.

He scoffs. The way you tease him sends a shot of arousal down his spine. "Who said anything about wanting to kiss you?"

You tilt your head with a raised brow. "Are you saying I'm wrong? Because I have a faint memory of someone saying I was right about a certain necklace…”

He shakes his head, the corner of his lips raising in a smile. "Never said that."

"Didn't need to," you declare with a wink, "I can read your mind."

"Yeah?" He leans forward, his mouth right beside your ear. "Do you know what I'm thinking of right now?" He lowers his hand to travel up your exposed leg, closer to your aching pussy. Your breath hitch. "That I want to rip this fucking dress off and fuck you right here?"

You wrap both your arms around his shoulders. "Yeah," you play along. "I did."

"And what are you thinking about?" He rasps, his eyes searching your face for any sense of affirmations. That you could possibly want him too.

You merely smile, gently pushing him back and onto the mattress. Changing position, you straddle him. "How about I show you?"

Planting kisses on the edge of his mouth, down to his jaw, to his neck, he tips his head back for you. You feel his erection hardening under his pants, pressed directly against your core. "Feels good, darling?"

Rafe draws his hands up your waist to hold you in place. He wants to kiss you now, desperately, but you avoid his lips as punishment. "A little underwhelmed to be honest, sweetheart."

You giggle, slowly rolling your hips. He groans at the sensation, feeling his cock tightens. "Are you sure?" You say, sucking on the curve of his neck as you hear a small moan leave his lips. The low sound igniting heat in your lower belly. “I think someone wants me.”

"That's enough." He announces, grabbing the back of your neck and pulling you into a hungry kiss. Both your hands slide up his chest for balance and you melt into his touch.

Red lipstick marks are covering Rafe all over, but he didn't fucking care. All he wants is to taste you, feel you, that he would gladly take the mess you give.

His hand lowers to your exposed cut of your dress, pushing the red satin away to gain more access. His knuckles brush against your bare cunt. "No panties?" He asks with shock, his darkened blue eyes finding yours. Your shy smile gives him everything he needs. "Bad girl."

Your expression is innocent. "It ruined the dress."

His fingers graze your wet slit. "I have to buy you more then."

You chuckle, before he finds your clit and rubs broad circles around the swollen nub, and your laugh turns to a shudder. "Th–that was a one-time thing."

"Is it?" He muses, his fingers entering you and a whimper escapes. "I bet I can fuck a yes out of you."

He probably could, with the way he handles you. Knowing your body so intimately, what turns you on, when you're about to come. You couldn't give him that satisfaction, pulling him into another kiss and silencing your response.

Rafe gives in immediately. Your lips part and he sucks on your tongue while his fingers rub you faster, little moans leaving you between kisses. You come on his hand within time.

Weakly pulling yourself off, you start to unbuckle his belt and take off his pants—his hips lifts to assist. When you free his bulge from his boxer-briefs, it stands hard and swollen. "Such a pretty cock," you sigh in awe, stroking your thumb over the bit of precum at the tip. Rafe lets out a groan.

"Are you going to ride me, baby?" He asks thickly, his hand landing on your waist in preparation to help you mount.

"Not right now," you declare with an apologetic smile, his expression falling. "I can't ruin my makeup." You look at your kisses smeared over his fair skin. "Well, more than it is."

His hand doesn't leave your hips. "You can always reapply."

You shake your head, gripping around his base, your fingers barely connecting because of his girth. Rafe's breath grows swallows as you start to pump him. "But I can make you feel better."

He loves the way your hand wraps around him, tight enough for him to feel pleasure with each stroke, and his balls soon tightens. "Just like that, baby," he moans, propping himself back by his elbows as you work on him. "I'm about to come."

You notice, with the way his cock is twitching under your palm, and just as he's about to release his load, you dip your head and cover your mouth over the tip.

"Fuck." He grunts under his breath as you suck him clean, your hand continuing to rub him to empty every drop. When he finishes his high, you pull back, wiping your chin with the back of your hand.

"Didn't want to ruin your clothes." You inform bashfully, standing up from the bed. He wanted to grab your wrist and pull you back beside him but the opportunity was missed.

You go to the bathroom to grab a wet paper towel and return with the intent of washing away all your markings on Rafe. As you settle beside him to wipe away the lipstick, he moves away.

"What if I want to keep one?"

"What?" You shed a small laugh. He can’t be serious. "My lipstick?"

He shrugs. "It shows that we're together."

Oh, right. For a blind, hopeful moment, you thought it was because he actually wanted you. More than just a fake title. No, it was just another shield, another way to demonstrate he's committed.

You silently agree, wiping away most of your kisses until the last one is left. Just right under his collarbone, enough to be seen with a good eye but mostly inconspicuous. "Good?" You ask evenly, to which Rafe glances over to the mirror and nods. "Okay, I'm going to fix myself and then we should start heading out."

—

You put on your facade.

It's easy. You just pretend you're someone else—not a lowly bartender from The Cut making ends meet but someone dignified and deserving. You play into the role of being Rafe Cameron's girlfriend with that mentality.

The gala is hosted downtown, at a large five-starred hotel with a massive ballroom. When you enter through the double doors, opened by a pair of waitstaff, you stare in admiration at the exquisiteness at the place. Rafe catches your expression.

“Close your mouth. You’re acting like you've never been to a gala before."

"I haven't." You snap back lowly, before remembering you're in public. You shift your tone to be more friendly. "I mean, this is my first time here."

Rafe's taken aback by your compliance. He knows he should appreciate it, because you always fight back against him on everything, but the achievement feels hollow and disingenuous.

The two of you fall into steps with the room, greeting familiar faces. When Rafe ends up in a conversation with a group of Cameron Development's business partners, you were casted aside in the role of obedient housewife—where the women socialize while the men talked shop—and you didn't like that.

With a gentle hand on Rafe's shoulder, you subtly interject yourself into the discussion.

"Y'know, Rafe's pretty good at that." You praise, causing the eyes of the older men to fall on you. Your fake boyfriend stiffens under your palm, his gaze set on your profile to understand what you're trying to do. "I saw the way he works those cases. He's dedicated and efficient. Business deals are meant to be made with a keen eye and deep considerations. Rafe always does that."

They fall silent for a few moments, watching you with amusement, before a man with a scuffed beard opens his mouth. "And how would you know anything about it? Aren't you a bartender?"

Rafe's jaw tightens at the way those men address you, with such a superiority complex. It reminds him of when he first met you. But, like then, you didn't let them bother you. "Yes and I'm also the sole owner of Sailor. I've been running it by myself since I was eighteen, which has had an average increase of 1.1% profit margins every year since. I know what I'm talking about."

Rafe stares at you, slack-jawed. He didn't know that. The group of men held similar expressions, filled with embarrassment at their misperception of you. "And, if I remember correctly, you had a construction plan for a new shopping center downtown, right? Instead of contracting with Cameron Development and utilizing local labor from the Banks—which Rafe suggested—you wanted to import mainland workers. How did that work out for you?"

You heard Rafe on the phone once, talking about a shopping center being built, with an intended budget of thirteen millions, wanting to cut corners. They didn't listen to Rafe with his recommendations, pinned him as too young and inexperienced to know better, that it ended up costing them twenty-one millions. It's still yet to be finished.

Scuffed Beard shifts uncomfortably under your scrutiny, his eyes flickering amongst his peers with humiliation. You smile sweetly. "I'm not saying this as a critique on your character, sir, I'm sure you're an incredible businessman." You declare, coaxing him with compliments so he wouldn't hold bitter resentment against the Camerons. "But, your organization has an aging board committee. You might want to consider a fresh perspective on things." You glance over to Rafe, in a subtle gesture. "It might even save you millions."

A woman's hand settles on your waist and draws your attention away to say something. When you turn back to Rafe, you present a loving smile, so bright and natural. If he was anyone else, he would've believed that you adored him, but he knows it's a mere disguise.

"I'm going to go mingle, darling, have fun." You raise to your tippy-toes and plant a soft kiss on his cheek. It leaves a faint lipstick stain but you figure it would help him sell his committed act.

Turning your heels, you leave and continue your (fake) girlfriend duties. Rafe watches until you disappear into the crowd and only then does his attention return back to the quieted group of boisterous men who once didn't view him as competent. Their gaze shifts to his, waiting.

"You were saying?" One of them offers, reminding him of an idea Rafe was talking about before you came in—one they were rejecting—and a concealed smirk rises to his lips.

The rest of the night is spent talking and establishing relationships. An orchestra plays in the background while the men gather around, discussing their partnerships. You rarely saw Rafe, except in the passing, and each time his eyes lingered over to your direction, you gave him an affectionate smile, your fingers waving fondly over the separated distance.

All for show.

In the middle of a conversation with a group of Ward's partners, which were talking about golf tournaments and fickle deals, he pardons himself and strolls over to you. You were in the middle of talking to a group of women, hyping up Rafe's reputation as a successful underdog, knowing that, while the women may be casted as gossips, they are also direct access to their husbands' ears.

His hand slides under your waist. "Excuse us." Rafe nods to the housewives, before pulling you away.

"What happened?" You ask quietly, searching his face. "Is there a problem?"

"No, everything's fine." He shakes his head. Something about it warms his heart, but he can't help but wonder if this is the continued act you've been putting on the entire night. "I just... I needed a break."

You nod. "That's fine. It's good to take a breath once in a while. I know it can be overwhelming."

His jaw flexes. Something about your saccharine mood this entire evening feels off. The way you were complimenting him earlier with the business partners feels dishonest. "Stop it."

Your brows furrow together at his sharp tone. "What? What did I do wrong?"

"That." He gestures to you as a whole. "The concern. That pretend. I wanna hear my girl, not the bullshit you've been putting up for everyone else."

You blink in surprise. You can't even fully appreciate him referring to you as his before scoffing at his audacity. "Seriously? You're mad because I'm being too nice? Would you rather I give you an attitude every time you open your mouth?"

He smirks, satisfied. "There you are."

You can't help but roll your eyes. "I can't with you. When I snap at you, you get pissed off, but when I'm nice, you're pissed off. You can't be pleased, Rafe Cameron."

He doesn't understand it either, but he loves the fire behind your eyes when you talk back and he loves the way his name rolls off your tongue. Perhaps, it's something about who you reveal yourself to. How much. The idea that he gets the other side of you—one where no one gets often—that's what he likes. It doesn't matter if it's your attitude or bitter remarks. It's different. Because it feels completely his.

"Yeah." He nods, cupping your cheeks with one hand, running the pad of his thumb over your bottom lip. "What can I say? I love this mouth. Reminds me of when I need to punish it."

You playfully shove him off but you can't ignore the knot twisting in your stomach. Your mind wanders to earlier, when you were giving him a handjob and swallowed his cum. It causes you to rub your thighs together.

Rafe recognizes that look. He wants to rile you further, maybe drag you off to a secluded area and fuck you—but he hears his name being called from behind and he looks up to see his father approaching. His spine straightens, his shoulders tense up.

"Rafe." Ward greets, glancing over to you with an acknowledged nod. "He has just arrived. I need you to convince him to settle on a deal before we lose that land. You're the only one I can trust with this."

He's a bit annoyed that his father interrupted his limited time with you but with the ounce of approval he's giving—telling Rafe he's the only person he can rely on, the one he wants to close the case—he can't help but submit.

When Ward leaves, Rafe looks back at you, his expression is vulnerable for a moment. His father is depending on him and the pressure is kicking in. He wants to ask you to come with him, for moral support, but he doesn't know how to word it without sounding inadequate—like he needs you there to succeed. So, he settles on his silence.

You return to the housewives but, this time, you remain closer to Rafe. You saw the look on his face and, while you wonder if you're overthinking, you wanted to stay nearby.

After his negotiation to the hotel Kook, the man considers his proposal. He tells Rafe that he needs a moment with his company to discuss before making a final decision. Once he left, Rafe releases a heavy sigh, searching for his father when a figure among the crowd makes him stop. Sarah.

What the fuck is she doing here? He has never once seen her attend any of Cameron Development's events, claiming them to be too meticulous and boring. Yet, here she is, wearing a formal dress and heading directly to their father.

Ward greets her with a beam of pride, his arm wraps around his eldest daughter and introduces her to his partners. Sarah reciprocates, waving and nodding along. Rafe could only hear the sound of his own blood boiling.

When his sister goes off somewhere, Rafe makes a direct beeline to his father. He pulls the patriarch aside. "What the hell is Sarah doing here?"

Ward knows the look in his son's eyes. "Calm down—"

"Calm down?" He echoes, incredulous. He hates that phrase. His darkened eyes stare down at his father. "What does that even mean? What's going on? Are you—" He couldn't utter the next words, his anger reaching its peak.

"Rafe, listen. Sarah, she's been out for a couple of months—"

"Yeah, because she fucking ran away."

"Language." Ward's command is sharp, causing his son to fall silent. "That's your sister. She's coming home and I'm trying to make her feel more comfortable."

"Comfortable?" He repeats with an indignant scoff. When Rafe was at his all-time low with his coke addiction, his father kicked him out of the house for weeks. But when Sarah abandons Tannyhill for months, doing god-knows-what with her boyfriend, Ward welcomes her back with open arms.

It isn't fucking fair.

"Does this mean..." Rafe couldn't finish the sentence. He doesn't know if he wants to know. All he feels is this intensifying frustration at the way his father could always accept his perfect daughter but criticizes him at every little mistake. Never good. Never enough.

Ward answers him anyway.

"Yes, I'm still considering her for the company."

He doesn't respond to that. He stares at his father with nothing more than pure, unbridled anger. Anger and rage. Rage and jealousy. Jealousy and hurt.

Ward tries to place a comforting hand on his shoulders, but the eldest son shoves him off. He turns, exiting from the ballroom.

You follow him.

"Rafe. Rafe. Rafe!" You chase after him, breaking into a mini-sprint as your heels click against the marble-floored lounge, before your hand catches his elbow. Your eyes search his hardened face. "Talk to me."

He pushes you away too. "I hate him."

"What?" You blink through the confusion. "What happened?"

"He always picks—" He cuts himself off, his eyes growing teary and he doesn't want you to see. "Fuck."

Someone walks by and Rafe tries to turn away, not wanting to be seen as weak by any passing stranger. You pay a glance to the oblivious man cruising by, before taking Rafe's arm and pulling him to the nearest empty space: a bathroom.

When the door locks, you face the blond. Your tone gentle, your approach cautious. "What's going on? Are you okay?"

"Okay?" He scoffs at your concern. He doesn't feel anywhere near okay. "What the fuck do you think?"

You frown, but you know this is always the first step. His anger always targets you first. "I want you to tell me."

Rafe locks his jaw, frustrated at the way you're being too kind while he's nothing but filled with rage. He doesn't deserve it. "My sister is back and you're asking me if I'm okay? Are you stupid?"

You cross your arms over your chest. Not out of anger, more out of protection. "I'm not part of your family, Rafe, I don't know why that matters. You're being mean and I'm just trying to help."

"Help?" He repeats, disbelief dripping from his tone. "Like you were helping me with my conversations? Talking me up? Making me sound like I was good?"

He's on the brink of a breakdown and you can't seem to understand him. Why is he making it sound like it was a bad thing? "I am. I'm trying to help you."

"You're just lying!" He accuses, his voice cracking from the intensity, stepping back. Like he couldn't trust you. Like you hurt him. "You say some shit, making me feel like you want me, and then you go off and do other shit that proves you don't."

You're not quite sure he's talking about you anymore. It's something more. It doesn't take a lot to figure out who.

You approach him calmly. "Is that what Ward is doing to you?"

Rafe doesn't answer you, staring back glassy-eyed with choked breaths. He's hurt. He feels unwanted. He can't explain it. Sarah returning home, to open arms, confirms something he’s always trying to push away. It means that his life will be more difficult; his goal of getting the family company more challenging. Because he knows, he will always be the second choice to the golden child.

And if you have that, who the fuck needs Rafe Cameron?

"You... you are good." You begin slowly, watching the way he shakes his head in doubt. "I told them the truth. You're an incredible businessman and you care about your company. I saw it at the country club's dinner, I saw it when we were getting ready and I see it now. What's the problem with me letting other people know?"

His insecurities are suffocating him. "You don't believe that."

"I do." You affirm with a nod, stepping closer to him. "I don't lie about that stuff. I admire it, that's why I remember."

His breath is cut short at your admission. Several beats take place before he speaks again. “You admired me?"

You laugh, the melodic resonance making everything feels better, wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders while he leans against the sink. "Don't let it get to your head," you warn with a soft smile. "But, yeah. It reminds me of me; how much you care about your family's business."

Rafe doesn't say anything, his broken gaze finding yours. They trace over your features, trying to read any sense of insincerity in them, only to find none.

"Your family's business?" He prompts quietly, using this opportunity to gateway into learning more about you. To let him in—that’s how you earn his trust. You falter.

"Yeah." You admit weakly. Every bone in your body is screaming at you to remain silent, to keep him out, but you can't help but continue forth. "I inherited it after my parents' passed away in an accident."

His eyes widen, at you revealing this glimpse into your past. Discomfort settles in your stomach, at letting another person in, but you can't help the way your chest lightens ever-so-slightly.

You don't want to deal with it.

Leaning forward, you press a soft kiss on his lips. Tender and warm, Rafe's hands immediately draw up to capture your waist before reciprocating the touch. It turns hungry, passionate, and when you pull away, breathless, you flick your gaze up to him.

"Want to know something else?" You ask in a whisper. "I haven't stopped thinking about your cock all night."

Rafe feels himself hardening at your confession. You have that effect on him now. “Yeah?”

You nod with a timid smile, playing with the buckle of his belt. “Can I blow you?”

He couldn’t say no to that.

Unbuckling his pants, you remove them within seconds. The corner of his lips quirks into a smirk. “Eager, are we?”

“I told you.” You say as you pull down his boxer-briefs, his cock springing free as your hand immediately wraps around the length, stroking slowly. “I want you in my mouth.”

Rafe can’t begin to express how it makes him feel hearing you say those words, your attention set on getting him as hard as possible.

Instead, he removes his blazer and sets it on the floor.

Your smile grows. “Didn’t know you would throw away good money like that,” you tease, glancing at the jacket that is probably worth more than your entire closet. “Thought Kooks have to take care of their things.”

“I am.”

The knot in your stomach tightens. You know you shouldn't like the possession behind Rafe's voice but you rub your thighs together to satiate the feeling. He notices, his arrogance grows tenfold. "Does my girl like that? Does she like knowing I own her?"

Rafe is probing you but there's a sense of comfort in knowing that he has this effect on you. When you quiet down, his words being too real and your hands stopping at the base of his cock, he wonders if he went too far.

Until you whisper, "I like it when you take control."

"Yeah?" He can feel his skin pricking with excitement. "The girl who always has something to say wants me to tell her what to do?"

Your cheeks flush with heat before you nod. "Good. Now, kneel."

You sink to the floor, your satin-covered knees pressed against his jacket to soften the blow of the hard ground. When you align yourself in front of his groin, you dribble a bit of spit over the head before spreading it over his length. Rafe lets out a low moan.

"I like hearing how I make you feel." You sigh fondly. "It lets me know how to please you."

Fuck, Rafe thought to himself, the idea of you getting turn-on by pleasuring him sends all the blood straight to his pelvis. You feel him twitch under your palm.

"And I think you like that too," you observe with a small smile, "you like having me as your own personal slut, don't you?"

He doesn't get to answer before you tilt your gaze up to meet his, taking his cock in your mouth. Rafe lets out a groan, the admission of your words tonight igniting desire all over his body.

The way your eyes connect with his as you slowly take him in, inch by inch, drives him insane. Your hand syncs with your mouth as you cup him, twisting and rubbing.

"Shit," he whimpers, the way you squeeze him feels incredible while your head sinks deeper, causing a small gag to form from the back of your throat. "That feels so good, baby."

The praise goes straight to your core. Your thighs are slick with your own arousal, aching, but you refuse to move till he comes. Your tongue flicks over his length, rolling around his tip.

"You're doing so well." He grunts, his voice thick as his fingers grips at the root of your hair, his climax quickly approaching. "Just like that, I love hearing the way you gag on my cock."

You do it again, louder, this time triggering a guttural moan from him.

Your technique grows more confident as your hands fall to play with his balls, and your head bobs up and down his shaft. When your cheeks hollow to add suction, it doesn't take long before he feels his muscles tightening. He's close.

"Are you going to swallow for me, baby?" Rafe rasps, causing your heavy-lid eyes to find his once again. "I know you can."

You nod. "Yes."

His hot cum shoots to the back of your throat in fast spurts while you take it all. His moans complement his orgasm, riding out with loud praises and noises you can't help but fuel your own desire.

When you swallow all of it, you pull back, his softening cock pops out of your mouth. Your hands settle on the flat of your thighs and you look up to him with doe eyes to ask. "Better?"

Panting, he answers. "Not even close."

He reaches down and hauls you to the sink, making you giggle at the way he handles you. Your ass settles on the granite counter and Rafe wastes no time to pull you to the ledge, pushing your dress up to your hips to reveal your glistening, bare cunt.

"You're this wet from sucking dick?" He teases, massaging your slick inner thighs. You bite your bottom lip, nodding along.

"Just yours."

He loves it. Tonight, you're simply perfect. Saying everything he wants to hear. Everything he needs to feel. He gets hard again, so easy under your influence.

You notice, glancing down to his hardening erection with a teasing smile. "Already?"

He chuckles, capturing you into a kiss. He tastes himself on your lips, the acknowledgement signals a primal urge, while his knuckles brushes against your throbbing clit, causing you to jerk into his hand.

"Rafe." You whimper, breaking from the kiss, your eyes meeting his with desperation. The feeling between your legs growing unbearable by the second. "Please, make me come."

This time, in a bathroom, your plea is met with a different consideration. He smiles before nodding once, lining the crown of his cock against your wet folds. "Only 'cause you ask so nicely."

Rafe pushes in, slow and steady to let you adjust to his girth, while your hands clasps around him for stability, your nails digging into his shoulder blades. Then, his thrusts begin to speed up.

"You like that, baby?" He asks, his free hand rubbing your swollen clit simultaneously to his penetration. You nod vigorously, your eyes closing shut from the pleasure. "Your pussy feels so nice around me."

"Like it was made for you." You supply with a moan.

“That's fucking right. Like it's mine."

His hand raises to the cleavage of your dress, pushing down the satin to reveal your tits. He's never been happier to know you decided not to wear a bra and pinches a pierced nipple between his fingers, causing your head to tip back with a raspy mewl. "Just like these." He adds, knowing the way he's playing with them will make you reach your peak faster. "Fuck, these are my favorite things."

The way he's teasing you, fucking you, feels so good, but you can't help but release a small laugh at his assertion. "Of course they would be, you whore," you say with a wispy smile.

He abandons his play, causing you to let out a small whine, when his hand cups your cheeks, jutting out your pout. "Nah, this mouth is." He closes the distance, kissing you, before drawing out your bottom lip with his teeth. The act is so surprising, you clench around his cock.

It causes a shudder to pass through him.

"God, you feel perfect," he confesses, his thrusts growing less controlled as he's deep inside of you, feeling every little response between your legs. "You should've been mine a long time ago."

The fabric of your dress falls back over to your pussy while Rafe wants nothing more than to watch how he pumps in-and-out of you. The frustration of the cover makes him roughly push back the material against your hips.

"I'm going to rip your fucking dress off."

"Don't you dare." You warn with a weak glare, the pleasure building too strongly for you to feel any genuine hostility.

"Thought you didn't want it?"

"I never said that."

"What is it, then?"

A moan ripples out of you as you lean forward, your lips fall next to the shell of his ear in a whisper. "My boyfriend got it for me."

Fuck, that got him and he spills in you, this time, the motion leaving him more jerkily and unstable than before. Despite the overwhelming sense of pleasure coursing through his body, he isn't finished. Knowing you haven’t came, his fingers fall back down to your clit and begin to rub in tight, fast circles, trying to help you reach your own orgasm.

You do, following quickly after, that he feels your walls clenching around his warming cock. When you ride out your high, you're breathless as he pulls out.

There's silence, and you expect him to get dressed and leave the room, but he surprises you when he focuses on helping you clean up. From wiping away his cum around your thighs, to fixing your hair, and helping you off the counter.

You don't know how to feel from the gesture; your heart clenching from his gentle acts.

Only then does he redress himself, picking up the wrinkled blazer off the ground and throwing it over his shoulders.

"Wait," you reach out, pulling him closer to the sink as you grab a wet paper towel and wipe away all the smudges of your lipstick over his lips. Your voice is soft. "I can't let you go out there looking like that."

He watches you as you work, wiping away any residues clean.

"I don't want to go back out there." He admits quietly. "I just wanna leave. Are you good with that?"

The question came at a surprise. "You're asking for my permission?"

He rolls his eyes at the look on your face, his shoulders relaxing. "Either that or you're going to get pissed at me again for taking you out before you're ready."

You chuckle. "We can leave. I just have to say goodbye to the housewives first."

"Had to get the word out for your bar?"

"Nope." You shake your head, realization striking you that, throughout this entire night, you spent no time thinking about yourself. Your hand lands over the doorknob, and just before you twist to open, you spare a glance over your shoulders at Rafe. "We were talking about you."

You leave first and Rafe's momentarily stunned that you used your one opportunity to talk about him rather than advertise your bar as a catering option for these plentiful Kooks. His chest warms and he soon follows you back to the ballroom where you pay your farewells.

Off on the side, trying to avoid his father, Rafe waits.

When someone taps his shoulder, his jaw clenches, not wanting to face Ward, only to turn and find the hotel magnate standing before him.

"We talked it through." The man declares as you pull away from the final housewife to return to your boyfriend’s side. "You got yourself a deal."

He hands Rafe a card, scribbled with a personal number at the top. The eldest Cameron reaches out to take the small card from him, rejoining their hands in a formal shake.

"Thank you, sir." Rafe expresses, keeping his voice neutral. The man nods.

"You got a good head on your shoulders. Keep it up." He declares, before nodding to you in recognition and leaves.

It takes a few moments for it to register. How it happened. How it worked out. When Rafe turns to you, your elation is too hard to contain, and you tackle him into a hug.

"You did it!" You beam, louder than the normal convention, and catch the attention of the nearby housewives who watch the interaction between the two with awing amusement. As you pull back, your hands clasps around his shoulders. "I'm so proud of you!"

Those words mean a lot to him. Especially now knowing that they're genuine coming from you. He doesn't know how to react, especially with the look on your face, the expression of complete pride from his success. "Really?"

You nod frantically, your cheeks hurting from how big your smile is. "What did you say to him? How did you convince him?"

His fingers mess with the business card in his hands and he shrugs. "I told him what you told me."

You can't believe Rafe listened to you. "So, what are you going to do with the land? Are you still going to build alligator-infested houses?"

He knows you're teasing him but he chuckles anyway. His adrenaline comes down to a neutralized comfort. Safe. He can't help it. Your presence, your words, and your kindness drives something deep in him.

"No." He shakes his head. "We're going to use the difference to invest into the fishing industry on the docks, benefitting from their stock value."

What he's not saying is that your argument held value to him. That his decision to help the Pogues is because of you. But, you take it either way, the announcement bringing a realm of good news for the first time in a long time.

Your chest is overwhelmed with such gratitude, you almost confess something you shouldn't.

"That's good." You settle with a gentle smile, clearing your throat. "I guess this means we can both go home to a satisfying conclusion, huh?"

That was the goal. But now he's not too sure he wants to depart from you this early. Knowing who you truly are—not just putting up a mask and caring about him in public, but genuinely proud of him, supporting him, always in his corner—he doesn't want to separate just yet.

So, he does something out of his comfort zone.

"It's getting late and it'll be a long drive to your house. You should just stay over."

This is the second time he's asking you, holding his breath to see how you would respond, and when your smile softens just a bit, almost in a way to let him down, he thought he got rejected again.

You know you shouldn't. You know this is only going to complicate your personal and professional lives. You know you should go home and place some distance from Rafe, to save you and your heart.

But something in you clench about the offer. It feels too similar to hope.

You nod. "That sounds like another great idea of yours." 

— part eight here —

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[lovverletters]

bring back yan!bully 🙏🙏 i miss him, don't kept him in basement too long, pookie (╥﹏╥) anyway i love you and i hope you have great day/night 💗

-🦈

Yandere! Bully

A/N : Revamped version of my little gremlin Darius💞🐰

T/W : harassment, death threats,possessive behaviour.

«────── « ⋅ʚ💌ɞ⋅ » ──────»

[Name] gripped the strap of their bag tighter in their hand to calm their nerves as they stared at the huge building before them. They had recently moved to another city after their parents had been offered a job opportunity.

They were in an unknown territory, having no knowledge whatsoever of this new place.

"Calm down [Name]. There's nothing for you to be scared of!" [Name] tried to convince themself, rubbing their sweaty palms on their shirt.

Walking inside the building, they were surprised by the spaciousness of the hall. They were expecting a packed hall filled with students around their lockers but were pleasantly surprised to see the opposite.

They could already hear the whispers of the people around them, almost all of them having mentioned about this Darius person. [Name] were intrigued, what kind of a person is this Darius?

[Name] didn't have to wonder for too long as their question was immediately answered by a harsh shove into the lockers.

"Ugh... what the hell?" They groaned as their back stung from the impact.

Looking at the person who were guilty of shoving them, their [E/C] eyes clashed with the vibrant golden irises that narrowed with amusement as if he was a predator watching his helpless prey trying to escape.

"You're a fresh meat. I can tell from how you look like you've lost your mommy in a store" He spat out in a condescending tone.

This must be the Darius the students have spoken about. A total dickhead apparently.

[Name] weren't having it, they're not going to let this man to ruin their first day. They ducked under his arms that was caging them to the lockers and ran away. It's better to walk away than be subjected to whatever the guy was planning to do to them.

Darius blinked, stunned at [Name]'s action. That's it? They don't even spare him a glance──not an ounce of reaction. Annoyance, fear, anger──none!

He was offended by their lack of reaction to him. Darius swore to himself that he'll coax a reaction out of them, be it them screaming into his face or crying.

He'll make sure of it.

«────── « ⋅ʚ💌ɞ⋅ » ──────»

"What's your favourite movie?" Here comes his random trivial question about [Name] of the day.

Eversince their encounter, Darius had become a persistent presence around [Name]. He would throw snarky remarks at them and try to pick on them whenever they would pass him at the halls or god forbid they share a class with him.

After a while though, [Name] noticed that Darius had become genuinely interested in them as a person. He would frequently try to make small talks or asked them trivial questions about them.

" [Favourite Movie]. Why'd you ask? You wanted to take me out?" [Name] teased.

"Yeah I'll take you out──in a fight" Those hint of crimson on his cheeks says otherwise though.

"I don't think s──"

[Name]'s words where abruptly interrupted by an empty can of soda hitting them. They hissed at the impact of the can hitting the back of their head and turned to see the one responsible of throwing it.

Fucking. James.

It seems like someone has decided to take up the role of picking on them since they had 'tame' Darius. The aforementioned man seems to not take kindly to James throwing the can at them.

He stood up from his place beside [Name] and walked towards the table in which the bully-wannabe was sitting, the soda can in hand. [Name] watches James practically paled as Darius stood before him with a menacing smile.

"Here. I think you lost something"

Before James could take it from Darius's hand, his face was smashed by the can of soda, the can denting from the force of the impact.

"You bother [Name] again and I'll have you dead the next day" Darius sneered, each words laced with venom.

[Name] along with the rest of the students who were in the cafeteria were left in shock. The Darius just stood up against a bully?

"Wh──what was that for?" [Name] asked Darius as he took his place beside them again.

He shrugged, stealing a fry from their lunch.

"Making sure everyone knows that you're mine. Only I can pick on you, got that?"

«────── « ⋅ʚ💌ɞ⋅ » ──────»

#yandere x reader #tw: yandere #yandere #yandere oc #yandere x darling #yandere x y/n #yandere x you #gender neutral reader #yandere male #yandere headcanons

[maplleaf]

《"Bridal style? but I'm not a bride!》

Sumeru boys reacting to you carrying them bridal style.

Characters: Alhaitham, The Wanderer (Scaramouche), Kaveh, Cyno, Tighnari

》 Akademiya's Scribe : Al Haitham

Those arms are no joke, Alhaitham is a beefy man.

And you. His precious partner; someone who can somehow defy his 'always rational' mindset. He knows you're capable of handling yourself but the scribe has always liked the idea of protecting you.

Which is why when you picked him up and held him nonchalantly, he's quite ??? at first.

He's never been into heavy PDA and the endless teasing that might come from his roommate if Kaveh sees this makes him dread the idea.

He'll ask you to place him down, but if no one's around and he has a perfectly good book in his hands; Alhaitham would sigh and continue on reading.

The feeling of you holding him so gently whilst having the strenght to carry him made Alhaitham slightly flustered, but you didn't hear it from me.

8/10 very heavy, but now you have a pretty bookworm nerd prince in your arms.

》 The Wanderer : Scaramouche

(I know he's from Inazuma but his vision frame is Sumeru's soooo)

Touch starved boy

Despite his rather unpleasant temper, Scaramouche has a soft spot for you. That doesn't mean he won't be cranky tho.

Honestly, if you're in a public place Scaramouche would be uncomfortable and angry; he wants these types of moments where he could be vulnerable only for you and him. He'll be fine with it when you're both alone.

When you picked him up and held him so closely, he went tsundere mode and demanded you to place him down, but the way he stuttered those words may mean he doesn't fully want you to.

If you do as you're told, Scaramouche would act pissed off, but he can't stop thinking about how you picked him up and held him gently for the rest of the day.

But if you don't listen to his demands and complaints, Scaramouche would still be angry at first then the complaints slowly turned into a "fine, whatever" as you held him close to you

9/10 tsundere boi, he's light as hell so it's easy to sweep him off his feet. The whining gets annoying tho.

》 The Palace of Alcazarzaray's Architect : Kaveh

Smirks at you, goes confident mode

Kaveh has always been the type to tease you. So when your strong arms swept him off his feet, he sees a golden opportunity.

"Oh? Did someone missed me?"

A part of you is tempted to drop him on the floor for all the teasing but didn't have the heart to.

It slowly morphs into the two of you flirting/bickering with eachother. If Alhaitham walks in on this, it's best he pretends to not see it.

Kaveh actually likes you picking him up like that. Whilst he does take the more affectionate role in the relationship most of the time, Kaveh likes the feeling of you holding him gently after he finished the sketches for his next project.

10/10 he's light to be picked up + bonus flirting with eachother.

》 The General Mahamatra : Cyno

One might think the general mahamatra might not like the idea of being picked up and carried like a bride. They're wrong.

Cyno is neutral when he's being carried by you like this; it just depends on the surroundings.

If the place you're is both in is safe and he's not doing any important work, he'll let you pick him up with ease. The blank and straight face might say otherwise, but he likes it.

Cyno is a warrior at heart, he brings judgement upon those at the Akademiya or those at the desert; but being picked up gently by you makes him feel butterflies.

He might show you his appreciation in the form of a smile, or three of his best jokes.

10/10 he has those muscles from being the General Mahamatra, but Cyno is still easy to pick up. Remember to laugh at his jokes.

》 Avidya Forest Watcher : Tighnari

"Watch it on the tail!" He did not groom it to be soft n fluffy just for it to be ruined, be careful.

Like Cyno, if he's doing any important things or is in a dangerous area; don't pick him up. But if the two of you are just patrolling or in a private area, go for it!

Tighnari quite likes it when you pick him up. He's not big on PDA, but some exceptions can be made.

If the forest ranger is feeling tired that day, he might lean to your chest and rest his eyes for a bit. Keeping anyone safe from the forest isn't an easy task, so let the fox rest for a bit against you.

His ears are sensitive, so he can hear your heartbeat clearly if he presses his head against your chest. He finds it comforting

11/10 very light and soft, pet those ears.

#sumeru genshin #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin x gn reader #genshin x male reader #tighnari #tighnari x reader #tighnari x gn reader #tighnari x male reader #alhaitham x male reader #alhaitham #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham is sexc #kaveh #kaveh x reader #kaveh x male reader #kaveh x gn reader #cyno #cyno x male reader #cyno x reader #dad jokes ft cyno #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche #the wanderer genshin #scaramouche x male reader #scaramluche x gn reader #headcanons #scaramouche genshin #cyno genshin #alhaitham genshin

[steddiealltheway]

(Set right before season 4)

Steve rushes over to the Henderson house after an ominous call from Dustin saying, "Come over as soon as you can, it's an emergency," before hanging up dramatically.

He can hear his nail bat rolling around in his trunk every turn he takes as he gets there in record time. He grabs the bat out of the trunk and rushes to the door, not bothering to knock before he barges in.

He's met with the sight of Eddie Munson staring at him with wide eyes as Dustin yells, "No! No! Don't swing! Not a code red!"

Steve sets down the bat and lets out a deep breath. "What the hell, Henderson?! I could've seriously taken you out with this thing!" He hears Dustin give him a half-assed apology as he tries to get his heartbeat to slow down. "Next time, don't leave such a cryptic message, okay?"

"Okay," Dustin says, holding his hands up.

"What the fuck is that?" Munson asks, staring at the bat.

Steve points at him and says, "Language," before turning to Dustin and asking, "What's he doing here?"

Dustin sighs and gestures them toward his couch. Steve shoots Eddie a look before taking a seat right against the arm of the couch. It's not that he hates him, hell, he's pretty sure he's gotten weed from him before. It's just that he doesn't like sharing this older brother role with another guy - especially one who likes to make dramatic speeches on top of lunch tables.

Based on the way Eddie is similarly leaning away from him and uncomfortably fidgeting with his rings, he can tell there's a mutual tension between them. Dustin doesn't pick up on it as he sits across from them, acting like he's about to deliver the worst news ever.

Steve leans forward a little trying to get Dustin to finally spill and tries not to lean back immediately when he sees that Eddie is doing the same thing.

"Okay, Suzie and I were talking, and her family is considering visiting Hawkins."

Steve smiles. "That's great, but why-"

"Why are you acting like that's bad news?" Eddie asks, finishing Steve's sentence. The two glance at each other, and Steve tries not to size him up.

Dustin groans, "Because I need to take her on a proper date! We weren't able to go on dates during science camp, so I want this to be special. Of course, this is all contingent on whether she can convince her dad to give us alone time..."

"I could be your chaperone, but I'd ditch you once you got to the movie theater," Steve offers.

Eddie scoffs, "Yeah, a date with Suzie will not be at a movie theater."

Steve crosses his legs and turns toward Eddie. "Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't know you knew something about dating. Wait a minute." He directs his attention back to Dustin, utterly horrified. "You asked me and Munson for girl help?"

"Don't sound so shocked," Eddie says, but Steve ignores him.

"Yes," Dustin states simply. He sighs and gestures between the two of them. "Steve, you're a lady's man and you know exactly what to say and where the best date spots are, but you pick up the worst girls. Except Robin who you refuse to date." Steve doesn't have time to argue before Dustin points at Eddie, "And Eddie understands all the cool nerd stuff that Suzie and I like, and he's super charismatic. So, I thought we could combine your abilities to create the most epic date in the history of dates."

"No," Steve and Eddie both say at once.

"Guys-"

Steve turns to Eddie and raises an eyebrow. "Why are you protesting my help?"

"Because try as he might, Dustin can't convince me that you aren't an asshole that has never actually wooed a girl. You get by with your pretty looks and think that's enough."

Steve's mind lingers a bit on the "pretty looks" for some reason, but he pushes past it to say, "Please, you're telling me you know a single thing about wooing a girl?"

Eddie leans in with a bright smile. "You heard it from Henderson, I'm charming."

"Charismatic," Steve corrects him, "But I haven't seen a shred of that yet."

Eddie tosses an arm over the back of the couch and scoots in until Steve is trapped against the arm of the couch. Steve tries not to show Eddie how much the sudden closeness is affecting him.

"I could easily charm your pants off, big boy," Eddie says with a wink.

Steve's eyes betray him and flicker down to Eddie's lips. "Please, I'd easily beat you to it."

Eddie tilts his head and looks at him through his lashes. "Are you saying you want to charm my pants off, Harrington? I'm flattered, but I'm not that kind of girl."

Steve raises his eyebrows. "Is that a bet?"

"Do you want it to be? Because it kind of sounds like it."

Steve blames his series of bad dates, the meaningless sex with girls with no substance, and the weird tension between them for his response. "It's a date, Munson."

"So, I'm going to assume that was the weirdest way of you two agreeing to help me," Dustin says, startling Steve away from Eddie who he was definitely not just about to kiss.

"Jesus H. Christ," Eddie mumbles under his breath as he moves away, seeming to have also forgotten where they were.

"Sure, we'll create a date for you two and trial-run it for issues," Steve says.

Dustin smiles wide and giggles, "See, I knew you two would help if you just put your dumb differences aside!"

"Something like that," Eddie mutters. "But hey, what does your gut say? Where do you want to take her?"

Dustin shrugs. "I like the idea of the movies."

Steve slowly looks over at Eddie and gives him a cocky smile. Eddie's mouth twitches momentarily into a frown, but he ignores him. "I'll think of something special to do after, but Harrington can fill you in on a movie date."

"I thought you were the expert on wooing," Steve snarkily replies.

Eddie huffs, "Movie dates just aren't my thing."

If they're actually trial-running this, Steve will make it a point to make movie dates Eddie's thing.

"That sounds great. Thank you both!" Dustin says, still ignoring the obvious tension.

"Well, I've got to head out, but it was good seeing you," Eddie says with a genuine smile that Steve thinks he would like to see more often.

"I do, too. Hey, I'm glad I could help. Next time maybe don't make it sound like a nail-bat emergency though," Steve says lowering his voice before grabbing the bat.

He follows Eddie toward the front, but they both stop and turn to mess up Dustin's hair simultaneously. Steve pulls his hand back when Eddie's hand runs on top of his. He looks at him with his eyebrows furrowed.

"I told you you guys are similar."

Steve thinks that Dustin's right, but maybe they're only similar in the way they both obviously care for him.

They finish their goodbyes and head out into the cold January weather. Steve clutches his jacket tighter around himself - he had forgotten to grab a heavier coat in his rush over. He turns to Eddie and says, "Hey."

Eddie turns to him and raises his eyebrows.

"Want to trial-run that date tonight?"

Eddie frowns at him. "I thought you were joking."

With that, Steve should take the clear out given to him and agree. Yes, it was just a joke. Instead, he says, "It doesn't have to be."

It's a long few seconds of Eddie staring at him before he gets a quiet response of, "Yeah, sure. Uh, let's go to my place though. I don't want your reputation to be tainted if you're seen in public with me."

"I wouldn't mind," Steve says sincerely. He's not sure why he's so adamant about this date, but maybe he just wants to see where that moment on the couch could truly lead. "But hey, your reputation would also be tainted if you're associating with me."

"And we wouldn't want that," Eddie says with a small smile. "The freak and the king. What would people say?"

This surprises a laugh out of Steve before he says, "I think your place would probably be a little more intimate than a movie theater."

He can't tell if Eddie's cheeks suddenly flush a little pinker from the cold or a blush. "I told you, I'm not that kind of guy."

"More intimate doesn't always mean sex. You know this."

Eddie laughs and shakes his head. "Why don't we continue this conversation at my place so you don't freeze to death?"

"I like the sound of that," Steve says, making his way to his car and trying to hide the huge smile that's trying to split across his face all because of Eddie Munson.

He rushes to shove his bat into the trunk, hoping that he won't have to further explain that to Eddie. But based on the way his eyes linger on it, he's thinking he won't get away from questioning too easily.

Luckily, he has prepared his Harrington charm for this moment. And boy, he's going to be using it as often as he can to prove Eddie wrong.

Part Two (aka the final part)

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #steddie ficlet