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rvzcvx · 3 days

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I see your post we're you bored and idk what to write so another Idea :

Can you do Tom x(dom) m! Reader or non-gendered is not important (I prefer x m! Reader because I'm a guy obviously )During the 14th of July and we arrive in the evening at the time of the fireworks and Tom is really scared about firework (IDK LMAO, no judgment.) and reader tries to reassure him Fluff and maybe bonus where reader and Tom had sex because Tom can't calm down! As you wish

BYEE,LOVE YOU 💋

ANXIETY

pairing: tom kaulitz x male reader

warnings: smut

a/n: idk if thats what you meant, but i hope youre gonna like it!! its kinda long but I hope it will be a good to read!! you can send me more requests if you want me to write something

As the sun dipped below the horizon, we were walking through the crowded streets of Paris, my heart racing in anticipation of the evening ahead. Tom and I had planned this trip months ago, carefully timing our visit to make it in time with bastille day. But as we made our way towards the seine, where the crowd had gathered, Tom's grip on my hand tightened, and I could sense his growing unease.

We arrived at a place near the eiffel tower. People were everywhere, their excitement palpable. Tom's eyes darted around nervously, his usual confident demeanor replaced by an nervous tension. I squeezed his hand gently, hoping to provide some reassurance.

"You okay?" I asked, my voice low enough to be lost in the crowd. Tom forced a smile, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Yeah, just a bit overwhelmed. I forgot how crowded it gets here."

I knew it was more than the crowd. Tom had never been comfortable around fireworks. The loud, unexpected bursts and the lingering booms always seemed to unsettle him. It was something he rarely admitted, but tonight, as the first rocket flew into the sky, I saw him flinch.

"It's gonna be fine" I whispered, pulling him closer. "We'll stay back here, away from the thick of it."

He nodded, but his body remained tense. The fireworks began in earnest, vibrant explosions of color and light that painted the night sky. Each burst was met with oohs and aahs from the crowd, but Tom's reaction was a stark contrast. His jaw clenched tighter with each boom, his eyes squeezed shut as he tried to block out the noise.

"Hey" I said softly, turning to face him and gently cupping his face in my hands. "Look at me, not at the fireworks." Tom's eyes fluttered open, meeting mine. "I'm trying" he muttered, his voice strained.

"Focus on my voice, on my touch." I ran my thumb soothingly over his cheek. "You’re safe. We’re safe."

He took a deep breath, his shoulders relaxing slightly as he concentrated on me. "Thanks" he said, his voice barely audible over the people around us.

I kept talking, sharing random stories and memories, anything to distract him from the noise. Gradually, his breathing steadied, and some of the tension got off him. As the grand finale approached, the fireworks intensified, the sky a chaotic symphony of light and sound. Tom winced, but he didn't look away from me.

When the last firework faded, I could see the relief on his face. "Let's get out of here" I suggested, threading my fingers through his.

We walked back to our hotel, the cool night air a welcome change from the crowded riverbank. Tom was quieter than usual, his earlier anxiety still lingering. Once we were inside our room, I closed the door behind us and turned to him.

"Sorry I wasn't much fun tonigh" he said, flopping onto the couch. "Don't apologize" I replied, sitting next to him and placing a hand on his leg. "I knew fireworks weren't your thing. I just wanted to be with you."

He gave me a grateful look. "You always know how to make me feel better."

I leaned in and kissed him gently, letting my lips linger on his. He responded eagerly, his hands finding their way to my waist, pulling me closer. The kiss deepened, and for a moment, all the stress and tension melted away.

"I don't know what I'd do without you" Tom murmured against my lips. "You don't have to find out" I whispered back. "I'm not going anywhere."

We stayed like that for a while, wrapped up in each other, the world outside forgotten. Eventually, Tom pulled away slightly, his eyes searching mine. "Can we just stay here tonight? Just us?"

"Of course" I said, brushing his thick dreads from his face. "We can do whatever you want."

He smiled, a real smile this time, and pulled me down onto the bed with him. We lay there, holding each other, the faint sounds of the city outside a distant hum. Tom's breathing slowed, his body relaxing completely for the first time that evening.

"I love you" he whispered, his voice filled with emotion. "I love you too" I replied, kissing his forehead.

We lay there in comfortable silence, enjoying the peace of the moment. The anxiety from earlier seemed like a distant memory now, replaced by a deep sense of contentment. Tom's hand found mine, our fingers intertwining as we simply enjoyed being together.

After a while, I felt Tom's lips on my neck, his breath warm against my skin. "You make everything better" he murmured, his voice low and husky.

I shivered at his touch, my body responding instinctively. "I try" I said with a smile, turning to capture his lips with mine.

We kissed slowly, savoring each moment, the tension from earlier completely forgotten. Our hands roamed over each other, exploring familiar territory with renewed intensity. Tom's touch was both soothing and electrifying, a combination that never failed to drive me wild.

As things heated up, I felt the urgent need to be even closer to him. We moved together in perfect sync, our bodies responding to each other's every move. The connection between us was intense, fueled by the events of the evening and the deep love we shared.

Eventually, we paused, breathless and flushed, our foreheads pressed together. "Let's take this to the bedroom" Tom suggested, his eyes dark with desire.

I nodded, my heart racing in anticipation. We stood up, still wrapped around each other, and made our way to the bedroom. I pushed open the bedroom door, my heart racing with anticipation.

I laid him gently on the bed, placing my weight on his body. "You're so beautiful" I murmured, leaning down to press a soft kiss to his lips. He responded eagerly, his arms winding around my neck as he deepened the kiss.

I could feel the heat radiating off his body, and I knew that he wanted me as much as I wanted him. I broke the kiss, my lips trailing down his jaw and neck, peppering him with kisses as I went. He tilted his head back, giving me better access, and I couldn't help but grin at his eagerness. "You like that?" I asked, my breath hot against his skin.

"Yes" he moaned, his voice ragged with desire. "Don't stop."

I continued my assault on his neck, my hands roaming over his chest and stomach, feeling the muscles tense and flex beneath my fingertips. I could feel his cock, hard and throbbing, pressed against my thigh, and I knew that it was time to take things to the next level.

I pulled back, my eyes meeting his, and I saw the hunger and need in them. I reached for the hem of his shirt, pulling it up and over his head, exposing his toned, muscular chest. I couldn't help but let out a low whistle as I took in the sight of him.

"Fuck, you're so hot" I said, my voice filled with awe.

He blushed at the compliment, but I could see the pleasure in his eyes. I leaned down, capturing one of his nipples in my mouth and sucking hard. He cried out, his back arching off the bed as I teased and tormented him with my tongue and teeth.

I moved my attention to his other nipple, giving it the same treatment, and he moaned and writhed beneath me. I could feel his cock leaking precum, and I knew that he was just as turned on as I was.

I stood up, my eyes never leaving his, and stripped off my own clothes. He watched me, his eyes dark with desire, as I revealed my own hard, throbbing cock. I climbed onto the bed, positioning myself between his legs, and I leaned down to capture his lips in another searing kiss.

I reached down, wrapping my hand around both of our cocks, and I began to stroke them together. He moaned into my mouth, his hips bucking up to meet my movements. I broke the kiss, my lips trailing down his chest and stomach as I made my way to his cock.

I wrapped my lips around the head, swirling my tongue around it, and he cried out, his hands fisting in my hair as he held me in place. I took him deeper into my mouth, my throat working as I swallowed him down.

He was moaning and thrashing beneath me, his hips bucking up as I sucked and licked at his cock. I could feel my own orgasm building, and I knew that I wouldn't be able to hold back much longer.

I pulled off his cock with a pop, my lips wet and swollen from his abuse. I looked up at him, my eyes filled with lust and desire, and I saw the same need reflected back at me in his gaze.

"I need you inside me" he gasped, his voice desperate.

I nodded, reaching for the lube and condom that I had stashed in the bedside table. I quickly sheathed myself and slicked up my cock, my eyes never leaving his.

I positioned myself at his entrance, my cock throbbing with need. I looked up at him, seeking his permission, and he nodded, his eyes filled with trust and desire.

I pushed inside him, my cock sliding in easily, and he cried out, his hands reaching up to grip my shoulders as I filled him up. I began to move, my hips pistoning as I drove into him again and again.

He was moaning and writhing beneath me, his cock hard and leaking as I fucked him. I leaned down, capturing his lips in another kiss as I continued to thrust into him.

"You feel so good" I murmured, breaking the kiss. "So tight and hot."

"Yes" he moaned, his hips meeting my thrusts. "Harder, m/n. Please."

I increased my pace, my hips moving faster and faster as I drove into him. I could feel my orgasm building, my balls drawing up tight against my body.

"I'm close" I gasped, my breath coming in short, sharp pants. "Me too" he moaned, his nails digging into my shoulders.

I reached down, wrapping my hand around his cock, and I began to stroke him in time with my thrusts. He cried out, his back arching off the bed as he came, his cum spurting out in hot, sticky ropes.

The sight of him coming, of his body trembling and writhing beneath me, was enough to send me over the edge. I groaned, my cock twitching as I came, filling the condom with my hot, sticky load.

I collapsed on top of him, my chest heaving as I tried to catch my breath. He wrapped his arms around me, holding me close. I took off the used condom and threw it somewhere, wrapping my arms around him too.

"I love you Tom" I said, resting my head in the crook of his neck. "I love you too" I heard him say and I smiled, feeling myself fall asleep after a while.

#tokio hotel x male reader #tokio hotel #georg listing #gustav schäfer #tom kaulitz #bill kaulitz #bill kaulitz x male reader #bill kaulitz x reader #tom kaulitz x reader #tom kaulitz x male reader #gustav schäfer x reader #gustav schäfer x male reader #georg listing x reader #georg listing x male reader

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serensational · 12 hours

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hello i would die for a sneak peak of your cowboy au 🫡🫡

ask and you shall receive 😘

take a shot lemon drop (then we'll rock all night)

“Next up, rider number 17, Eddie Diaz on Sirocco!” She called into the microphone with fake enthusiasm, but Buck’s was all sincere. He finally perked up, clapping a little more heartily along with everyone else. He craned his neck to see what was happening, and he finally caught a glimpse of Eddie– well, his horse, anyway. She was a gorgeous American Quarter Horse, a bigger one too, coming in at around sixteen hands. She had a silky, dark and dusty brown coat, lighter dusky dapples covering her. Her muscles flexed in the dingy lighting, accented with her perfectly fitted tack. The only thing better than the horse, in Buck’s opinion, was the rider.

Eddie sat atop his horse with the confidence of someone who had already won. And knowing Eddie, Buck didn’t doubt that was what was going through his mind at the moment. He was clad in dark-wash jeans, and Buck could appreciate how they hugged Eddie’s ass and thighs. As for a top, he was wearing a deep maroon button-up, folded up to his elbows. His biceps tested the seams of it, and Buck had to swallow thickly. He was freshly shaven and atop his head sat a black leather cowboy hat. Eddie walked Sirocco around in a circle before lining her up with the entrance to the arena, and there seemed to be a unanimous lull of anticipation in the crowd’s cheers.

Buck watched with reciprocated anticipation, waiting for the horn to blare signaling the start of the run. A few silent beats went by, then said horn blared, and Sirocco was off. Cheers erupted from all around as Eddie guided the horse effortlessly around the first barrel, making a sharp turn and beelining for the second. Buck felt like his eyes couldn’t keep up with how fast Eddie was going. It was like he was entranced. Everyone before Eddie seemed a bore, but now he could barely take his eyes off the other. He looked completely in his element, back muscles flexing against his shirt as he rounded the last barrel. Buck’s mouth fell half-open, and then he was balling his hands up as he spared a glance at the big analog timer on the wall.

“Come on, come on,” Buck murmured to himself, watching as Eddie booked it towards the exit. He watched as Eddie kicked Sirocco’s sides, and somehow the horse got faster, and then it was over. Eddie was across the threshold, calming Sirocco down. There was a beat of silence, and then the crowd roared louder than he’d heard the whole day. Buck launched up along with the rest of them, clapping ferociously and cupping his hands around his mouth to whoop and holler. Eddie had claimed the title of fastest runner by two seconds.

Buck suddenly felt an overwhelming surge of pride and admiration, and he didn’t know what to do with it. Eddie slowly walked Sirocco around and waved towards the crowd at his claim of the new record, eyes scanning all the people. Buck watched as he turned the horse in his direction and walked towards his side of the stands, eyes still flitting over the crowd. Their eyes locked then, and Eddie’s smile grew exponentially, into that infamous, toothy grin that Buck begrudgingly adored. Eddie reached up and took his hat off, clutching it against his chest, hair mussed and sweaty. His sun-marked skin shimmered with a sheen of sweat, and Buck selfishly ogled him for a minute. Some girl in front of him distantly squealed, probably thinking Eddie was looking at her, but Buck knew he wasn’t. Blood rushed behind Buck’s ears and it overtook the shrill and boisterous cheers of the crowd, and he felt his cheeks heat up. It felt like it was only him and Eddie right now, everyone else some distant apparitions that were miles away. Just them two. But then Eddie winked and blew a kiss at him, and the thundering of Buck’s heart (metaphorically) stopped.

Oh.

He was so very, royally fucked.

this is just a snippet, but this has been soooo fun to write so far oml, hope you enjoy!!!

#911 abc #lgbtq #evan buckley #911 #eddie diaz #evan buck buckley #buddie #911 on abc #oliver stark #ryan guzman #buck x eddie #au #cowboy #cowboy au #western au #fanfic #911 fandom

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notbadforafailedvessel · 11 months

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Alcina/Neko!Reader - Part II

Part I

Now that I think about, I could have cut this part in three... because this ended up being incredibly long! But whatever, enjoy it all at once, hehe.

Your presence in Castle Dimitrescu became quite the adventure.

Alcina soon discovers that as long as she was with you, you walked as a human, but if you were wandering on your own (which she clarified you were free to do because it wouldn't be fair to keep you around with nothing to do while she worked), you preferred to turn your hands and feet into paws to move as an animal since in that way, you were nimbler. And since you still weren't familiarized with the place, it was handier.

The first challenge you encounter is with Alcina's daughters.

They aren't happy with having to share their mother's attention with you and they made it fairly obvious.

Alcina never told them you were out of limits, wanting to test your abilities.

To you, she simply said that you do whatever you need to do to protect yourself. Knowing that if you managed to reach any of them or vice versa, you wouldn't cause any real damage beyond their pride.

The girls would never admit it, but they were impressed by your agility and deep down, they enjoyed and had fun with your chases.

Their worst mischief ocurrs when they lure you towards the cellar in their fly form, where they locked you into the darkness, which wasn't really a problem to you since you could see in it, making you aware that the place is filled with monsters like the one that attacked you on your arrival.

Completely ignorant to how important that room was to the lady of the castle, you jumped from barrel to barrel carelessly, kicking many of them towards the floor as you dodged the monsters to take a proper position to attack them, only noticing the spilled liquid that came from them when you slipped in a puddle but it doesn't stops you from recovering quickly to continue with the battle.

Alcina, during a break from work, tunes your heartbeat, standing in the next second when she realizes how accelerated it is, followed by a commotion.

When she finds her daughters cackling in front of the cellar's door, Alcina knows that nothing good could come from it. Growling at them to move, she heads to the cellar.

You feel proud of yourself when the lights turn on and you can witness your achievement, having got rid of the monsters on your own. However, your smile disappears when you see how discontent Alcina looks.

Despite knowing it wasn't your fault, Alcina feels the rage taking her over after watching all the wasted product. In a few long strides she reaches you, taking you by the back of your neck like a cat, lifting you up effortlessly.

You shrink into yourself, immediately reading the mood, trying to become smaller, trembling when she turns her head to you, her features twisted in anger.

It's tempting to retaliate, but despite her wrathful fog, Alcina perceives you trembling with fear, your big eyes widened with distress, shining with unshed tears. And for the first time, such image doesn't suits her well.

She takes a deep breath with closed eyes to calm a bit, and cradles you in your arms in the next second. She waits a moment in that position, trying to give you some sense of security before setting in motion without letting you go.

The girls are waiting outside, almost expectant to see some kind of drama, but Alcina pretends nothing happened, giving them the order to clean up the mess and go find new maidens to recover the losses.

In silence, she takes you to her chamber, placing you at the end of the bed, standing on the edge. You are still tense, unsure what to expect and the silence doesn't do anything to soothe your nerves.

You fidget with your tail. "My Lady, I-"

"Quiet, pet," she silences you with a soft tone. "I can't blame you for this." She holds you by the chin so you look at her. "But after this unfortunate event, I shall make clear that the cellar is now forbidden for you and my daughters' games. I will let them know about this new rule too."

You nod earnestly. "Understood, my Lady."

For a beat she remains serious but then she chuckles. "Time to get you clean, pet." You imagine a bath is coming your way, but with a gloved finger she collects some of the bloodwine in your arm and then put it in her mouth, moaning appreciatively. The sensual act makes you blush. "I can't let this go to waste."

Alcina doesn't asks for consent, at least not verbally. She keeps your eyes on your face, reading your expressions as she undresses you slowly, giving you the time to stop her.

You are not naive to not understand her intentions but you don't even consider to put a stop to it. The most time you spend with her, the most you crave from her.

Once you are naked, she leans down to lick you clean, starting on your neck and working her way down your body, avoiding any part that would make the act sexual instead of simply intimate.

Nonetheless, it makes you tremble with desire, reason why she wraps an arm around your waist when she notices your legs wobble.

Finishing with your body, she puts her free hand on your neck, her fingers on your jaw so she can move your head as it suits her as she licks the bloodwine on your face.

She takes advantage of your gasps to slid her tongue inside your mouth, brushing yours fleetingly as she press her lips against yours.

The contact barely lasts a second but it's enough to add more impact to your already stimulated body. Lightheaded, you wonder if this was some sort of punishment even when she claimed she couldn't blame you for what happened.

Chuckling at your disarranged state, Alcina takes you in her arms once again, finally taking you to the bathroom to bathe you properly.

Alcina lived in a constant state of tenderness and flusteredness because of you.

Luckily for you, her affection for you it's stronger and she only resorts to scolding you or making clear that you can't do whatever it pleases you.

Like she will once this dinner it's over.

You had been invited to join the meals of your Lady and her daughters since the very first day and today wasn't the exception but this time you did something you have never done.

You feel sleepy, due to an exhaustive chasing with the girls that lasted several hours and the food only highlighted such state.

Mother and daughters fall into conversation, Alcina happily listening to the girls' affairs.

You get off the chair, rubbing your eyes to then turn your hands and feet, sitting on your butt with bended legs on the floor next to Alcina's chair, keeping one arm extended in front of you while licking your other paw to groom yourself.

It doesn't take long to feel Alcina's hand on your head, making you push your against her hand enthusiastically.

Her ministrations aren't helpful for your sleepy state and you can only think in the comfort she provides, the warmth that would surround you if you were closer to her.

Without thinking, you hop into her lap, fleetingly nuzzling your face in her neck before lying down in a curled up position, your purring reaching every corner of the room, completely unaware of the women's reactions.

Alcina looks down at you speechless, the hand with which she had been caressing you, hovering idly.

In other circumstances ─ more precisely, in the presence of the Lords and Mother Miranda ─ she would have reacted very different, and the outcome wouldn't have been pleasing for neither of you.

Thankfully, this time she can be reckless. But a serious conversation with you is bound to happen once you wake up.

Alcina cradles your head softly, her thumb brushing one of your ears, making her smile subtly when you smile in your sleep.

Gazing up while her hand rests protectively on the side you had been hurt months ago, she finds her daughters smiling like the cat who ate the canary, and she channels her Lady Dimitrescu persona for a second. "Not a single word." Afterwards, she clears her throat, taking a sip of her wine regally and smiles softly. "Continue, sweet Bela."

You wake up hours later, Alcina's lap no longer your resting place but you are still lying in a comfortable and soft spot, and when you open your eyes, your eyes find your Lady next to you on her bed, leaning against the headboard, reading a book.

"Have you rested well, pet?" She places the book on the nightstand and the glasses she was wearing on top of the book.

You cover your face with your paws while you stretch, then yawn. "Yes, my Lady." Though you scoot towards her with the intention to fall asleep again.

A hand on your shoulder stops you, making you pout and look up with a disgruntled expression.

"There's something I need to speak with you, pet. Something important and that can't wait."

You worry, wondering what could you have done to upset your lady, your mind already overworking with possible scenarios of your dismissal.

"Easy, pet." She shifts to her side to face you, resting on her arm. "Technically, you haven't done anything wrong. But what occurred in the dinner room can't happen again."

You frown, not understanding. If you haven't done anything wrong, why it couldn't happen again?

"At least not whenever it pleases you. You have known Mother Miranda and the other Lords. I have an image to maintain in front of them."

You still remember the day as it had happened yesterday. Your Lady had told you about them before their arrival and after finding out Mother Miranda was a scientist, you wanted to go hide in a room and come out until they were gone.

Alcina warned you to behave, and it had requiere a huge effort not to react in anyway when the leader entered the castle. You were scared and wondered why you had to be there even when Alcina explained that it was better to introduce you than trying to keep a secret from Mother Miranda.

Since your experience with scientists wasn't a good one, you were expecting to be taken away to be studied even when Alcina tried to reassured you that that wouldn't happen.

And your Lady had been right. Mother Miranda had looked at your way once, scrutinizing you up and down as if she was scanning you, capable to find out right in that moment that you weren't fitting for whatever she needed, and she had let out a snort afterwards, making a mocking comment to Alcina about what a good mother she was for getting a kitten for her daughters.

It hurt your pride but she never looked your way after that time, so only for that reason you were able to let it go.

"Do you understand, pet?" There was an edge on her tone, not appreciating having to fish for a response.

"Yes, my Lady." You gazed up. "I would never do that in front of them. I would never do anything to embarrass you," you promised, wanting to be a good thing for her and not a nuisance. "But-" you trailed off, hesitating.

"Speak your mind, pet." Her words might be slightly harsh but she was caressing your jaw with the back of her index finger softly.

"But what about when it's only you and I, my Lady, could I-?"

Alcina ponders for a moment. "Only when I'm not working and you have to wait until I allow you to do it."

You have mixed feelings about it. On one hand, you want to be selfish and take what you want whenever you want to as your nature whispers you to do and what usually gets you in troubles. On the other, you had never known about sincere care and interest for you until you meet your Lady, and you know that's something you won't risk losing.

You nod. "All right, my Lady." You smile and feel your heart fluttering when Alcina grins back at you.

"What a good pet." She buries her face in the crook of you neck, nuzzling your jaw with her head, acting as if she was a cat. She brushes your neck with her lips. "Such a good pet."

You close your eyes when you feel her teeth scraping your skin, knowing what's coming, letting out a whimper when she sinks them in.

Drinking slowly from you, savouring you, Alcina rolls over you, careful not to put all her weight on you, but enough for you to feel a satisfying pressure.

You grasp your Lady's shoulders, digging your claws for her to feel but without breaking her skin, dragging a moan from the woman.

"Mine." She grunts against your neck, making you shiver due to the vibration and the possessiveness she exuded.

Sitting on the couch in Alcina's office with your limbs and tail tucked under your body, resembling a loaf of bread, you stare at the maid who enters after knocking on the door to deliver a package until she leaves the two of you alone once again, hurrying to get out after making quick eye contact with you.

The staff was no longer very fond of you after the day you attacked one of the maids, taking away her life to rip her heart out to gift it to your Lady.

Alcina doesn't react at the box placed on her desk until hours later, once she's done with her work, when you are sleeping lightly. She smiles smugly after opening it.

"Come here, sweet pet."

Despite you are waking up, you are quick and nimble to stand up, transforming your paws to hands and feet, hurrying to your Lady's side. You wait next to her chair, looking up at her expectantly and when she pats her lap with one hand, you climb to straddle her happily.

She strokes your cheek, triggering your purring. "I have a gift for you."

You look down when she presents you the box she's holding for you to see, gasping in awe at the leather choker with the Dimitrescu crest resting proudly in the middle.

You reach out to touch it reverently with your fingertips. "For me?" you ask skeptically, not used to such gestures despite it wasn't the first time your Lady gave you something. Since your arrival, your wardrobe had increased thanks to her. But somehow you knew this was different, and much more valuable.

Alcina hums, taking the choker out of the box, leaving the latter on the desk. "I want you to have something that will always remind you of who you belong to. More importantly, to remind everyone who sets their eyes on you... who you belong to." She puts the choker in your neck, capable to close the clasp without looking at it. A pleasant sensation washing her over at the result.

You follow her hands until she's done with the task, raising your head to look at her. "I-I belong to you, my Lady?" you ask with wonder.

Alcina grins intimidatingly though you know it's not aimed to you. "Of course, pet. My pet. I got you first, you are mine." She wraps her hand around your neck, squeezing softly, not to hurt but as if she was looking to leave the choker's mark on your skin. "You are mine to look after. Mine to touch. Mine to kiss. Mine to taste. Mine to possess. Mine to do every single thing I want... isn't that right?" She wasn't asking due to uncertainty, simply because she wanted you to voice your surrender to her.

You gulp, momentarily closing your eyes as your body arches towards hers. Alcina's laugh make your ears flutter at the divine sound, and you are overjoyed when she wraps her arm around your waist, soothing your desperation to be closer when she pressed your front against hers, your hands finding her shoulders.

"Yes..." you whisper, your voice trembling but with your next words your tone is louder and firmer. "Yours, my Lady, ever only yours." Your hands slide towards her neck, your fingertips ghosting her jaw.

Alcina raises an eyebrow, almost like she was reading your mind and daring you to do what you wanted to do. And despite knowing there could be consequences for acting before your Lady approved it, you couldn't deny that you enjoyed her punishments because it usually meant keeping you at her side all day, doing things to keep her in a good mood or spend all day aroused.

Even when you were the brattiest and she resorted into something physical and you had trouble sitting comfortably, you never felt unsafe or scared because Alcina carefully keeps an eye on you to be conscious of your limits.

But so far she has never crossed a line, giving you comfort and reassurance afterwards; and you took pleasure in the soreness her hands left in your body, which you considered another way to mark you even when not always it was visible.

So you dare to hold her face in her hands, tilting her head as if you truly could have some control over her. She growls as if annoyed but she smirks before you press your lips against hers.

"I'm yours as much as you are mine, my Lady," you claim conceitedly.

Alcina doesn't denies it. She can't, knowing you are aware because you thrive on all the attention she gives you, noticing how different it is from the one she gives to others. Nonetheless, she narrows her eyes, golden eyes shining with only one purpose.

And when she grabs your ass with her free hand, squeezing it, you know the next following days, every time you sit down, you are going to be reminded of your cheekiness.

But when Alcina kisses you again, taking total control of you with her tongue and lips, you are more than clear that you wouldn't have it any other way.

#alcina dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu #alcina dimitrescu x reader #lady dimitrescu x reader #hd.txt #hdad.txt #writing this was more fun than i anticipated!#and way longer than i expected... i got inspired lololol #txt: ad

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frownyalfred · 11 months

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I have to ask, merely because savestate was the best thing I've read in months, and in the author's note you mentioned almost making it hard-core smut, how do you write such good smut?

Thank you! I fucked a lot of people in college!

#jkjk #unless 🧐#sorry anon #largely it boils down to me writing what I like #and generally remembering that the desperation/kissing/grinding/anticipation is sometimes more fun than anything else #my rule is #generally I want to write something that turns me on too #because then I know it’s good #also don’t get too wordy!#so much of sex is just grunting lol #myfic #theresurrectionist

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decepti-geek · 7 months

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for all that I love Ghosts, I've been getting a very different kind of joy out of watching uploads of a very, very similar show on youtube - The Ghosts of Motley Hall.

Like, a setup where the ghosts actually mostly like each other from the off, so that a huge chunk of the dialogue just goes towards establishing more and more of their meandering, idiosyncratic shared history (especially because the budget was clearly about £1.50 so they have to establish most things through dialogue)... that has its own kind of charm.

#bbc ghosts #the ghosts of motley hall #I'm genuinely not sure how much overlap to expect in terms of ghosts people who have seen this #because I... couldn't find? any mention of the six idiots referencing it they only seem to talk about Rentaghost #so when I first looked into it I was expecting there to be a steady trickle in the Ghosts to finding out about Motley Hall pipeline #but not only does there not appear to be #the show is apparently just WAY more obscure than I anticipated in general?#at least in terms of its presence in any online articles/social media #anyway all this to say I think anyone who's comfortable with suspending disbelief in the name of fun would benefit from knowing about Motle #ie I think more people should #also in terms of ghosts stuff Motley Hall also has a Fanny in it!#The dialogue is just whimsical little joy after joy #'I ALWAYS do the stairs on Thursdays!'#'I don't think they are wirelesses. they have glass fronts.' 'they've got knobs on.' 'well so's a chest of drawers!'#Also one of the things I have found writing about is that Fanny was apparently a fan favourite character back in the day #and I cannot pinpoint a single concrete reason why but I GET IT he's just so entertaining to watch #GOD I just love the dialogue so much 'you think it'll go on forever?' 'nah it'll run out of horses' referring to horse racing on TV #I love Bodkin and his perpetual willingness to position himself as the arbiter of common sense based on very little actual knowledge #'what's he? a soldier?' 'nah that's a policeman' 'what do they do?' 'well they sit in the kitchen and eat jam tarts'#there's so much information contained in that response I love it

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yuwuta · 1 month

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Test drive Yuta Part 2? :(((

i know it’s been like three months 😭😭 but i promise i’ve been working on it. it is one of my priorities, but i do have shorter things to edit and post before it, but here is a snippet as proof and as me posting this ask as accountability

cw hospitals, injury (it’s not serious even tho it seems ominous here 😭)

#anonymous #trying to not make yuuta insane has been..... more difficult than anticipated in this universe LMFAO #bc i am trying to not write from his pov but i always write from the boys pov so 😞😞 but it wouldn't be nearly as fun #if everyone knew what he was thinking even tho its so easy to tell what hes thinking bc hes a lovesick LOSERRRRRRRRRRR #how many times is tumblr user yuwuta gonna put yuuta in a hospital setting lets find out

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bawdy-booster · 1 month

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Of Service to the Imperium

“…and then, there’s the issue of you.”

You froze, feeling the cold serpentine gaze of the lamia interrogator fall upon your rope-bound body. She was quite an intimidating figure, tall and elegant in her uniform, with features looking to have been chiseled from the purest marble to form a perfectly threatening force for the Lamia Imperium. Long, silver hair flowed from her head and draped itself down her backside. Her thick white coils crowded around in the dungeon, not wrapped around you just yet but certainly eager to grind you to dust once the order was given.

“Me…?” you asked meekly.

“Yes,” she hissed ruefully. “You. We don’t take kindly to Imposters in our ranks, and I don’t have to remind you that Transformation Elixirs are outlawed among civilians for a good reason.”

You blushed. The merchant who’d sold you those elixirs had promised that no one would notice so long as you kept on top of them. You would have been indistinguishable from any other Serpentine Sentries. Awesome, Athletic, Appealing – blessed with a scaly tail flowing from below your waist, nobody would have been able to notice.

But the way you hissed out an uncharacteristic “Reporting for Duty, Sssir,” to the captain spelled out plain as day how you didn’t belong. All well-trained soldiers of the Imperium had gone to great lengths to remove the hiss of the common lamia from their tongue, and anyone whose tongue so much as hissed a second longer than necessary could only mean one of two things — they had slipped through the coils of their instructor’s grasp, or they were simply no real lamia.

Before you could hiss another word in, a snare of coils had descended upon you from the guards and dragged you away to the dungeons, where you now found yourself before your cold interrogator, your Transformation Elixir having now worn off and left you quite small in comparison to the well-built woman before you.

“Well?” She growled, “What reason have you to be here, walker?”

You gulped, overcome with embarrassment as you realized you had never admitted this to anyone aloud before.

“I… want to be one of you.”

The Interrogator's frozen figure stirred, no longer cold from spite and distrust but from unspoken awe at what she was hearing. For a moment, her forlorn lips seemed to part in awe, before her fangs gritted together in a hissing snarl as her face twisted into rage.

From the walls, her white coils thrust forward, binding tightly around your body with an angry squeeze. Her hands descended upon your neck, fingers drawing claws as she threatened to tear you to shreds here and now after the words she had just heard. “What?!” She snarled, “Isss thisss sssome sssort of joke?!”

Your eyes bulged, lips trembling in fear as she held your life in clawed hands. Babbles of denial spilled forth from you, desperate to be heard before the binding loops of scale and muscle drew tighter and pulled what little breath you had from your lungs. Amidst this panic, you understood that this was only right – that as the Imperium had explained when they conquered your lands, their all-knowing hiss and yes speaking the truth of their awesome might to your people, that this was the rightful place of the lamia. Atop a mound of coils reminding the world of the order and peace they brought to these chaotic realms. And as you lay there, bound at the mercy of the Interrogator’s coils, something shifted in her touch. Her desire was still there, clutching to your trembling life, but no longer was it a desire to tear you to pieces – it was a desire to know what you said.

Her clawed hands left your neck, permitting you to gasp for breath. “Then explain,” She ordered. “Now.”

Something in her voice compelled you to speak, a hypnotic tone not unlike that of the missionaries who spread the gospel of the Lamia Imperium. You told everything to her: Of how your life had been a dull, aimless routine of farming before the Imperium arrived. Of how their presence had enlightened you to your rightful place within their coils. Of how the thought of proving all your worth to them had driven you to obsession, to the point of putting you in the unfortunate position you now found yourself in.

And as you spoke, stirred by the eager duty to be of service to the Lamia Imperium, a change stirred in the Interrogator. Her chiseled scowl melted from its cold, bleak exterior, and in its place curled a serpentine smile – one that no longer saw an insult to very Imperium in your form, but rather, potential.

Your babbling words stopped as the coils surrounding you gave a gentle hug, white scales holding close to you as they shifted about you, not unlike a reassuring massage. A brief, unbound moan danced off your tongue as coils slithered over your form, before drawing tight to draw your attention back to the Interrogator before you, her coy smile accompanied by a mischievous look in her eyes.

“Well,” she tutted, “I had no idea you were so enamored with the Imperium. It’s not often one such as yourself becomes so eager to serve a greater being. I apologize for my barbs, earlier. The Imperium will be very pleased to hear of your dedication.”

A dazed smile spread across your cheeks, the Interrogator’s tail stroking your head like a prized pet. “Th… Thank you,” you murmured, “I live to–”

You gagged as her coils wound tight around your throat, her hands taking your head into their grasp. Two thumbs placed themselves upon your lips, bringing your mouth shut as the Interrogator hushed what thoughts you had in your mind. “Do not speak, little morsel,” she hissed in a soothing voice. “I want to get a good look at you~”

Before you could say a word, your mind froze as her hands drew your gaze up, and directly into her spiraling eyes. Beams of pure white and deep black swirled forth into your eyes, ensnaring your mind as they wrapped themselves around your thoughts and brought everything under control – her control. You had heard tales of how the lamias rose to power, of how their ability to dominate the minds of lesser beings had enabled their rapid expansion across the lands. You had always thought it an exaggeration of how they had convinced so many to side with their amassing power, a tale spun by dissidents who spoke ill of their ways of persuading the mind to see and hear things as they saw them. You had never imagined it to be so… so literal.

Gentle hands cradled your head as gentle coils cradled your body, permitting the Interrogator to better examine you. Her watchful eye looked over every inch of you, your own eyes spiraling into the bliss her hypnotic vision had granted you vision to see. A stricken gasp erupted as her claws dexterously traced your form, ripping you from the rope that had previously bound you, before you were silenced once more as she traced a spiral over your steady heart.

She stood you up and removed her coils from your body. You felt awfully bare, unbound from her embrace for her to witness in full. You perked up as you heard the sound of her chuckling before your mind unraveled, a resonant SNAP! drawing her spirals out from your mind and bringing you back to consciousness before her.

The two of you stood there alone in the dungeon. Expecting. Awaiting. Taking in and studying the sight of each other for minutes that felt like hours. Her white coils churned about silently, surrounding herself in powerful might that could easily break you into no more than another plaything. You fully expected them to, yet knew not why she seemed to resist doing so.

Beneath the loops of pure, snow-colored scale, she stood on edge, coiled up as much in her upper body as in her tail as her arms crossed to draw a judgmental stare out from her chiseled face. Despite having left you untouched for the past few minutes, you felt entirely trapped by her.

“You said you wish to be of service, yes?” She finally said, her head turning to side-eye you as if to better study you.

“Yes.” You answered.

“Then your wish is granted.” she mused. “You have violated the Imperial Code, the punishment for which is eternal servitude to the Lamia Imperium. A being of your… splendor would find great pleasure as a Courtesan for the Emperor’s Den, and I am certain your mind and body would enjoy being broken into blissful little fragments by the Imperial Elite.”

Your legs trembled, a wounded mewl silenced behind closed lips at the thought of being hypnotized and coiled up as a squeeze toy for some of the most powerful lamias in the lands.

“It is my duty,” the Interrogator went on, “to Interrogate those who violate the Code and, in due time, discern what the suitable punishment would be for them. Under normal circumstances… your fate would have already been sealed, and I would have drawn you before the Magistrates for judgment. However… my mind dwells on the motive of your crime – You wanted to be one of us.”

You freeze as the Interrogator’s coils sprawl out toward you, taking you in her binds and squeezing close as she draws you before her.

“I can arrange that this be done, permanently. Our Scholars have been eager to find ways to provide a surplus to our armies without wasting precious lamia blood in a futile draft, and I have a feeling you may be all too eager to subject yourself to adequate… research for the task.”

You wince as her hands reach up to your face, before gently cupping your cheeks and drawing your chin upward. But it all sounds so tempting. The thought of it all – becoming a part of the Imperium, becoming a lamia, sounds too good to be true. She’s up to something. You just know it.

She draws your focus up to her gaze, and your eyes break into an awestruck stare as once more, her black and white spirals loop out from her eyes to ensnare your mind.“All I ask is that you look into my eyes, and tell me what you really want~”

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thormanick · 3 months

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I think it could be very, very funny if “great Alastor, altruist, died for his friends” turned out to be a foreshadowing for how Alastor’s overall character arc will end in the future

Idk I think it would be veeeeeeery fun to throw in such type of foreshadowing at the end of the first season only for it to come true several seasons later. Like, who would suspect?

#this is a very hear me out moment #I think the last time I enjoyed a manipulative character so much was during the times of Loki’s first appearance in mcu lol #man alastor is SUCH a fun character like you can do so much with him. the potential is limitless #that’s exhactly why throwing in possible foreshadowing immediately at the end of s1 could be conceptually fun #bc it’s always fun (to me) when the character goes ‘my that will surely never happen!’ only for the Exact Thing To Happen #anyways #gotta say I enjoyed watching hazbin hotel MUCH more than I anticipated #I really REALLY had no expectations. and then suddenly the storytelling AND THE SONGS turned out so well??? delightful #here’s to hoping the further storytelling/writing will remain on the same level #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel thoughts #hazbin hotel reaction #hazbin hotel alastor

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reginrokkr · 4 months

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One final down and only five more to go! For being an unpredictable test as it was, it went incredibly well. I know for a fact that the following three will be more predictable as well as the last final for next Monday. Now, as for what concerns the size of content to study... the one of Thursday is going to be fun, but it'll work out!

#◟༺✦༻◞ what lays behind the mantle of faux stars ┊ooc.┊#as I anticipated yesterday #the nervousness was bigger than the test #good for that one tbh #or else I'd die in a puddle of anxiety #I'm starting to see the light at the end of the tunnel 😔#can't wait for Thursday to be over with specifically #as that's the test I'm more concerned about #Friday's is another kind of unpredictable one #but due to the subject itself it can be... a fun experience #wouldn't repeat it 100/10 #but at least there won't be any writing #anyway! hope you peeps are having a good week start ♥︎

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dick-the3rd · 2 years

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For the bad things happen bingo, brujay and zip ties maybe?

You know, this was supposed to be a drabble, and a lot less kinkier, but guess it had other plans. I decided to post on ao3 bc I came to the conclusion it was too big for Tumblr.

Cutting Ties, Brujay, Mature.

Masterpost here

#you know anon this started as a genuine attempt at fluff #it was going to be half this size and just bruce rescuing jason #but then Bruce entered the room and everything just happened #it's been so long sice i wrote anything resembling smut lol #being ace also doesn't help #anyway #brujay #asks #bthb prompts #bthb #also this wasn't proofreaded so forgive me for any error #(and if you read until here you deserve a fun fact. i have never written a brujay fic before and have read just a few of them)#(i had much more fun than i anticipated)#but...#(if you saw this before no you didn't)#perhapps writes

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shadowiie · 1 year

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Writing Chris into storylines scratches that inner self-insert, main character syndrome itch so hard but also it is incredibly hard to juggle giving him enough screentime so he gets to feel special while he has absolutely zero powers and does absolutely nothing that isn't already covered by other characters.

He's a silly guy

#one rewatching of sonic x later i am writing my own 4th season #the one off episodes are fun to plan but the larger arcs take more work than i anticipated #still. its v v fun

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deathbydarkelves · 2 years

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Writing cliffhangers into my fic right now and cackling like an evil villain. I understand why writers do this now.

#writing tag #sorry not sorry #IT'LL BE A REASONABLE AMOUNT DON'T WORRY #but it's definitely more fun to write than I anticipated #i'm out here putting these elves in SITUATIONS i'll tell you what

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prozach27 · 2 months

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Unnaturally excited for my transition to writing slow burn tragic gay romance. I wrote the first chapter today and tbh I think it’s a gem. There could be literally zero people on earth who care about this couple but I will stan them for eternity. That being said, I pray people actually read and like it lmao

#so I’ve written like 30k + words of smut fanfics in the last month or so #and thats been really well-received and gotten a ton of positive feedback which is nice #but it also improved my writing so much more than I anticipated #when I get comments on those works it’s always fun but… I guess hollow?#the focus is rarely on harder subjects like characterization or relationships #if someone reads a fic like this and says they like the character or romance. then I’ve really done it I feel like #it should be good practice :) and fun to boot

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kirric-the-fan · 6 months

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Got a lot of work done today on my werewolf Mana fic On the nose: another type of change! Looking to get chapter 2 up by the new year.

#dokidoki precure #aida mana #writing #my writing #chapter 2 is more angsty than I was anticipating #but I got it focused in a better way after the work I did today #chapter feels more fleshed out and balanced now #Very Rikka focused for a fic about Mana #I like it #I hope you will too #chap 3 onwards is on to the fun stuff dw

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shotmrmiller · 3 months

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a little prologue before i eventually write the schmeat.

pornstar au!

f!reader

Simon retired from the adult entertainment industry at 38 years old, but he'd been in it for a decade and a half.

He left his mark, going down in history as one of the greatest of all time in pornography. Simon was a living legend, and his cock was equally legendary which even attracted the attention of famous personalities. In fact, he made sure they signed an airtight NDA just to have the privilege of having his phone number.

It eventually became dull, however, and decided it was time to call it quits. He'd had his fun and now explicitly works behind the scenes with the casting and directing.

Not for the lack of trying on his hires' part though. He cannot recall how many times he's had actors trying to entice him into bending them over the black leather couch or fuck them against the walls of their dressing rooms.

Simon had retired and meant it.

That was, until you.

A fresh face, a rookie in the business but he's completely mesmerized by the video he's watching featuring his protege, Johnny. The scene itself was nothing special, just a dad's best friend script, but you...something about you was extraordinary.

He felt his manhood stir as he watched your lips parting in a silent scream as a climax washed over you, causing your toes to curl and fingers to dig into Johnny's biceps as he split you open on top of a kitchen counter.

Your eyes clenched tightly in bliss; head thrown back in pleasure. You weren't faking it in the least, not that it was ever in question— there was a frothy, milky cream around the base of Johnny's cock, your body twitched with the aftershocks of it, and he's had more than a lifetime's worth of women and men underneath and on top of him to know what a real orgasm looked like.

You looked delectable. His mouth watered as he thought of getting a taste of you— he wanted to eat that pretty pussy of yours like it was to be his last meal, push his thick fingers into your slick hole and make you ride his hand until you hunched over and gushed arousal down his wrist and forearm.

Simon palmed himself roughly outside of his trousers and hissed when Johnny covered your mouth with his as he rubbed your slippery clit under the pad of his thumb until you broke away to let out a choked scream— another peak that Johnny takes as his.

He fucks you through it with a slow undulation of his hips, just like Simon taught him, and only when your limbs are loose, syrupy, does he finally relent and in a few thrusts, he's pulling out and covering your glistening slit with his spend.

Simon grips his phone so hard, it makes a cracking sound. He's had A-list celebrities with unrivaled beauty begging for him to see them again. He's had Aphrodite in his bed and Adonis on his knees.

And yet none compare to the sight of you, skin dewy with saliva and sweat, damp hair sticking to your forehead, and another man's cum dripping out of you.

He's enthralled.

Simon tosses his cell and briskly walks toward his kitchen island, where his laptop sits. In a matter of minutes, he's sent an email to the company you work for and told them to name their price, he'd pay anything to get you in his studio.

They readily agreed, of course. No one denies Simon anything.

Simon runs his tongue over his teeth in anticipation; he's gonna lift you to the very stars.

Ghost is about to make his long-awaited return and only for you.

#call of duty #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #cod mw2 #cod mwii #simon riley x reader #cod #cod smut #johnny soap mactavish

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supercutszns · 4 months

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

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

true colours; luke castellan

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

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

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

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

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

This year, there were two.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

(You came in fifteenth.)

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

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

“You alright there, sunshine?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey, Castellan!” Someone calls.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You haven’t talked to him since.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Lee!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No to the first, yes to the second.”

You wish you said no to both.

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

He will not. Stop. Looking at you.

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

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

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

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

Luke, calling your name.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why are you ignoring me?” He asks.

“I’m not—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

There’s a lull.

“What?” You blink stupidly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Not even a little.”

“But you’ve got so many other—”

“I want you.”

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

"Your knee is fine!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She's given you two more rainbows.

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

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