#doesn’t believe he’s free first of all. isn’t sure what’s real and what’s not.

[too-many-hyperfixations]

Transformers One Megatron Character Analysis

The movie calls him something else for a lot of its runtime. I’m calling him Megatron because that’s what we know him as and it’s cooler. Spoilers for the movie and a TON of paragraphs ahead.

Megatron’s arc in Transformers One isn’t primarily about betraying Optimus, it’s about his trust in authority is shattered and how that affects all other forms of trust for him.

We meet Megatron in this movie before he believes himself on the level of the primes and thus not having taken up the name of one. This movie is Optimus’ movie, as most transformers movies are, so we have to encounter Meg through him. Meg’s first time speaking his own mind rather than just covering for Orion is on the train shortly after his initial onscreen appearance, where he chided Orion for breaking into the archives yet a g a i n. The reason he does this is interesting to me though!

See, Megatron doesn’t just point out that it’s dangerous because this isn’t the first time security has chased him down, he says it’s an unnecessary risk. Meg cares as much about the source of the planet’s energon being revitalized as anyone else, but he wholeheartedly believes that their leader is not just looking in the right area in the first place, but that he is fully capable of wrenching free the matrix from the forces that be on the surface! Mind you that these are forces he nor anybody else can verify. Only Sentinel and his personal cabinet (who have everything to gain from keeping their mouths shut) have ever actually BEEN up there!

For all the faults of Orion in this movie before the consequences of his actions force him to discover what it takes to become a dependable leader, Orion forces Meg out of his comfort zone in the ways he has to be to grow as a person! This is what leads to Megatron getting into the race, which is the first time we see Meg having to make split second decisions, and doing really well at it! The two nearly get first by a close margin!

The next time that Orion manages to talk Meg into a situation outside of his comfort zone is when he gets them to go all the way to the surface, and even explore there, instead of going home! Meg’s journey on the surface marks the first time he really starts making choices for himself, because although he has a friend he trusts enough to follow the decisions of with him, there’s no authority up here with him. Sure, his former manager is there, but she was demoted earlier and he followed Orion’s judgement over hers even then. Megatron is now making decisions as part of a group in a situation with nobody qualified to give orders. Even when a sudden mountain formation starts taking out the tracks, listening to Bee and running is a conscious decision made in the moment rather than one made because he does this every day this is what you do. He can make decisions in a split second for himself, he's done it with hiding Orion in his cart, but never without the safety net of someone to defer to. When the quintessons are scanning, Meg is at equal standing in the group with their discussion agreeing that those ARE quintesson ships and then helping decide their course of action about the danger. This all comes to a head in the cave, when Megatron, loyal Megatron finds out his life is a lie. His own words on his LIFE BEING A LIE! The minute he fully processes that this information is real and what it means, he goes into a pretty brutal explanation of how he wants to kill Sentinel! This doesn't just break his trust in authority, however, he starts questioning if he can trust ANYONE he's meant to trust! He takes the capsule of proof the original prime gave them partly because he doesn't trust others with it, and partly because he now has a need to be the one in control, including over how that crucial information gets used. If he can't trust the person whose integrity is the most important for their entire society, can he even trust his friends? By the time they reach the Old Guard, Meg has already decided that the answer to that question is no. Even while running over Sentinel with a TRAIN, Optimus is set on using the power of broadcasting and entrusting truth with the people to do the right thing with it! Megatron believes Starscream's philosophy even before he's told the words of it, the strongest bot gets all the power. His trials out here have been those of combat as well, that have fortified his mind, made him worthy! The problem isn't in the system, it's in this one specific person who needs an example made of him for all time! "The rebirth of Cybertron cannot begin with an execution!" Says Optimus. To Megatron, it was always the only way. The strongest bot deserves all the power.

[quietwingsinthesky]

once again. lucifer came out of the cage surprisingly well-adjusted. all things considered.

[kesujo]

Obsessed

“Yo, you never told me you got a girl!”

“What are you—give that back! Who said you could look at my messages?”

“No no no, first explain this: ‘did you eat yet?’, ‘are you coming home late today?’, ‘who was that girl you were eating with?’—” You snatch the phone out of your friend’s hands, but he still recites the last message to you, “‘I’m sorry I couldn’t see you today. I miss you~’—”

Your heart skips a beat. “That’s—my aunt.”

“Yeah right—”

“She’s just been concerned for me after hearing that I moved out of my parents’ house recently.”

“…Is your relative a stalker?”

It’s a bad excuse and you know it, but that’s all you are willing to give your friend. After all, there is no way he will be more willing to accept the truth. Hell, you aren’t even sure you are more willing to accept the truth to even the flimsy, half-assed explanation you just provided him.

“You got a real cougar of an aunt.”

“No, she’s—” trying to conceal the actual message sender as your aunt is probably a futile effort, especially with that last message, but telling Beomgyu the truth is absolutely out of the question. “—she’s just worried for me.”

Your friend rolls his eyes. “Whatever. Not my problem if you’re not ready to reveal your relationship to even your best friend yet.”

“You know what, you’re free to believe whatever you wanna believe. I don’t care enough to try to change your mind.” That’s only partially true. What matters isn’t that Beomgyu thinks you have a girlfriend, but if he knows the identity of the girl in question. It’s a good thing you had the foresight to save her number with an innocuous name.

“You aren’t seriously going to tell me that you’re close enough to your aunt that you just call her ‘Ji’, do you?” Ok, maybe the name isn’t that innocuous.

“I was in a rush, ok? Plus, it doesn’t even matter what I save the names as, all that matters is I know who the number is.”

“Wait, what do you have me saved as?”

“‘Beom’.”

“Hmm…”

Beomgyu only pesters you half of the remaining meal, thankfully not catching the occasional glancing around of the restaurant you did. Maybe it’s paranoid of you, especially since it’s a normal weekday evening in a relatively crowded place, but you want to be on your toes at all times.

“Hey, you’re coming golfing with us next week, right?”

“We’ll see.”

“Date with your girl?”

You roll your eyes. “No, not a date with ‘my girl’. I’ll just have to see if I wanna go on the day.”

“Right.” The two of you stop at the intersection. “Well, have fun on your date.”

“It’s not a—” seeing the smirk on Beomgyu’s face makes you sigh. “Whatever. Yeah, I’ll have fun on my ‘date’.”

Not a few steps after you separate from him, an all-too-familiar voice whispers into your ear, “You’re going on a date?”

You try not to jump out of your skin as she wraps her arm around yours while seamlessly falling in perfect step with you. The playful manner in which she leans against you is sharply juxtaposed by the sharp, very pointedly upset tone she asked the question with.

You knew you weren’t paranoid to suspect she was nearby. But … where was she? You swear you did a pretty thorough visual sweep of the restaurant without landing on anyone who even remotely resembled her. Unless … did she wait outside the restaurant?

“No, I’m not—”

“Hey, kiss me first, or else people will get suspicious.”

“No, they won’t—” don’t get flustered, don’t get flustered, “—what are you talking about?”

You turn an exasperated expression towards Yu Jimin, who is shooting you a playful grin. However, as exasperated as you sound, your heart is beating a million times a minute. This isn’t even your first, or even tenth, encounter with her, but every single one is still as nerve-wracking as the last. “You never know.”

“I think I do, from the fact that you still somehow haven’t been exposed as an avid stalker of mine.”

“Never mind that,” In an instant, her expression changes, the playful grin disappearing from her face, “what about this date Beomgyu was talking about?” The duality of the two expressions makes your heart beat even faster, although this time for a slightly different reason.

“There’s no—” Have you ever introduced Beomgyu to Karina? Hell, have you ever even mentioned Beomgyu to her? “—date…”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure.”

“Then…” Suddenly, her voice turns bashful. She slows down a bit, forcing you to do the same. “…do you want one?”

This is way too ridiculous. Truth is stranger than fiction, so they said. You don’t know who this ‘they’ character is, but you can’t agree more with that seemingly absurd statement.

“Aren’t you busy?”

“I can make myself free.”

“Don’t go pushing back another photoshoot or choreography practice for this.”

“…But it was definitely worth it…”

You scoff. “How?”

“Well, I got this picture of you!”

You look over and down at her phone to see what seemed like a perfectly normal picture of you standing between a few bookshelves at your local library looking down at the book in your hands. “That’s … it?”

“What do you mean ‘that’s it’?!” You jump at the sudden peaking of her voice, hurriedly looking around to make sure she hadn’t drawn any more attention than she needed to before turning back to her. “Look at how hot you look when you’re serious!”

You have absolutely no idea what Karina sees in you. As far as you’re concerned, you’re a perfectly normal guy. You aren’t even particularly good-looking, having only ever been in one relationship that lasted only the last year of high school. You’ve asked her before, and she said something about you ‘being her white knight in shining armor’ and how you had saved her in a ‘manga-like way’, but honestly, you have no recollection of such an event.

“Right…”

“I used this picture for at least two weeks straight.”

“You ‘used’…?” It doesn’t mean what you think it means. To save your own heart, you have to believe that. Otherwise… “By the way, you aren’t going to be following me all the way home, are you?” You pose the question already expecting an answer, so when she decides instead to remain quiet, you turn to her and follow up with, “…Are you?”

“…Can’t I?”

“What?” Breathe. Don’t panic. Be logical. And stop thinking about that. This is a bad thing. “No!” You make sure to manage the volume of your voice before continuing. “Of course not! Call your manager or something,” you hiss at her.

“Why nooot?”

Her pouting almost makes you cave, admit defeat, and agree to lead her back to your apartment. But… “You remember what happened last time, don’t you?”

“Well, nothing happened, right?”

You let out an exasperated sigh. You hastily shove aside the memory of what exactly happened last time. “Yeah, and we should be thankful that nothing happened.” When she doesn’t respond for another bit, you turn to her to see her cheeks slightly flushed. “Um…?”

“You said ‘we’.”

God, Karina is just so damn adorable.

“Jimin, I’m being serious here.” It turns out, that was the wrong play—whatever you said makes her flush even harder. “Now what?”

“You said my name~”

The exhale you let out contains a mixture of exasperation, sheer bewilderment, and most of all, a mask to hide how flustered you are. Her fangirling squeals are just too adorable to not smile at, so the best you can do to mask that is to turn your head away from her and shake your head.

“Look, I don’t want to be the one to call your manager again. So either you make the call, or I do.”

“Wait, no, just for a little bit!”

“That’s what you said last time, wasn’t it?”

“It’ll—”

“It’s not worth risking it. You have your entire idol career ahead of you, and I’m just some random nobody.”

“You aren’t a nobody!”

You nearly flinch at how loudly she asserts that. “Ka—shh, not so loud!” You have to whisper to her after Karina’s latest outburst draws the attention of some passersby.

“I won’t let you say you’re a nobody, ok?”

At that, a smile breaks out on your face. “Ah, right, ok, fine. Still, no matter who I am, it’s not worth it.”

“But—” she leans in close, an action that causes your already sky-high heartrate to shoot straight through the roof, “—that’s not what you said while you were destroying my pussy last time.”

Shit.

You had been hard at work trying to hold that memory at bay ever since Karina brought up the idea of returning to your apartment with you. The incident had shaken you up even more than that one time you nearly got run over by a car on your way back home from a college party; as if the idea that one of your favorite idols obsesses this hard over you isn’t fantastical enough, the idea that you had sex with her is on a whole other level of absurdity and fantasy that you frankly didn’t think collided with the real world.

“What are you saying out loud in public?” you reprimand her in a hushed voice.

“Don’t you want—”

Not knowing another way to silence the salacious celebrity, you tug at her arm to bring her closer to you so that you covering her mouth with your hand isn’t as obvious. “Please, please, not in public. People are already starting to look at us.” The subtle, tart, slightly fruity perfume you love wafts into your nose, the warmth of her body pressing up against you, a certain softness pressing against your chest, everything combined nearly drives you insane and even makes you a bit light-headed—but however flustered pulling the top-tier beauty close to you makes you, Karina herself is even more flustered. The tips of her ears are bright pink, as if she had dyed them a different color for some type of cosplay, her full, red lips spread out in a wide smile directed at her own feet, cheeks bulging out like a cute little squirrel trying to store a few too many acorns in her cheeks.

She’s too adorable. And beautiful. Holy shit is she gorgeous.

That’s the last indulgent thought of her you allow yourself to have before taking out your phone again. “I’m gonna call your manager now, ok?”

“Wait, noo~”

You pull away from her upon noticing how many more glances you two are starting to get, resuming your walk, this time to your apartment. At this rate, it seems like it’s only a matter of time before Karina is noticed, and if it’s a question between getting caught in public attached to the arm of some random guy and dealing with her in your apartment for the few minutes it took her manager to pick her up, the answer is obvious. All you have to do is to be more resilient than last time.

Part of you wonders if this is all your fault. Maybe your wishy-washy reactions to her behavior is what enables her continued stalking of you. Maybe, if you hadn’t been so receptive to all her advances, she would’ve eventually stopped this unhealthy, this dangerous habit.

“Are we going to your apartment now?”

“How—” you stop yourself short of asking the question. Previously, you were just randomly walking about with the express intent of not bringing her back to your place. How Karina instantly picked up on that fact right as you changed your mind is a question you probably don’t even want an answer to.

“Wait, I don’t think I’m ready yet.”

“…What?”

You watch her suddenly stop and pull out her phone to fix her bangs in utter bewilderment before promptly pulling her hastily along, whispering to her, “You can do that at my place. Do you want to be spotted?”

“But my bangs are so messy right now, I can’t go to your home looking like this…”

“But—” you stop for a brief second to look at her bangs. What about them looks messy? You shake the thought from your mind. “—what? But you were the one who suggested it in the first place.”

“I know, but…”

“Never mind, we should hurry.”

You’re avidly keeping your gaze forward, trying your best to shake off the feeling that the two of you are attracting the eyes of every single stranger you walk past. ‘Is that Karina?’, ‘What is she doing with him?’, ‘Is she secretly dating?’ – you don’t think you hear any particular voice whispering these words, but it manifests in your mind so strongly that it takes every ounce of your willpower to not turn your head and direct an accusatory gaze at every person you walk past. You’re too scared to pay closer attention to your surroundings anyway: what if you are actually right and people are identifying Karina? You figure hoping and praying that your paranoia remains just that is your best bet; after all, what else can you do? The rest of the walk home feels like the longest ten minutes of your life: with each minute that passes, you feel more and more antsy, and every pair of friends that walks past you two, your grip on Karina’s hand tightens, ready to bolt if they turn around to address her. It isn’t until you close the door to your apartment that you let out a breath of relief.

“Oh my god, I can’t believe I’m in your apartment again!”

“Um, by the way…” Karina stops turning around whimsically like she’s a Disney Princess to look at you, causing a heap of self-consciousness for the question you want to ask to suddenly pile on. Is she going to get offended? To be fair, you had looked everywhere—the complex’s lost-and-found, under your bedframe, behind all the washing and drying machines, and still couldn’t find them.

“Hm?”

“Um—” Is this even important? Why are you asking this again? But as the seconds tick by, the pressure from her expectant gaze builds inside your head, like the staticky white noise from an old TV filling your mind. So, you steel your nerves and continue anyway, “—did you, by chance, steal some of my socks? The last time you were here?”

“Hmm?”

While her response is perfectly neutral, it still gives you cold feet. It is a good thing if this resulted in Karina being offended—you know that rationally, but emotionally, you don’t know if you can take knowing that one of your favorite idols hates you.

“My socks.” On the flip side, they aren’t even that important. Will she even find offense from your implication? This had been a mystery that bit at you for the past few weeks, and this is a chance to rid yourself of that nuisance. “Did you steal them last time you were here?”

“Socks? Hm…”

However, the more she ponders, the surer you become of your theory. “Uh…” at that revelation, you realize you don’t know what to feel. “Well, I mean, it doesn’t really matter, I guess…”

“Oh, really?!”

The amount of happiness and relief in Karina’s voice all but vaporizes any doubt in your mind that the culprit behind the mismatching socks in your drawer is, indeed, her. “They’re just socks, I can always get new ones, but, um, yeah.” Are you supposed to be honored that Karina even had the desire to steal your socks? Or is the appropriate reaction feeling creeped out that she stole them? Is there even an ‘appropriate reaction’ to your situation?

“In that case…” Karina sits down on the hardwood floor of the half-living room and as she reaches for her feet, your eyes land on the definitive proof that she was, indeed, the sock thief.

“Hey!”

“I was in such a rush the last time I didn’t check to see if they were matching, but now I wear them every time I come see you,” she explained, pulling them off her feet and showing them to you. “Can I trade one of them for the matching pair?”

“Why—you—how—” your brain is short-circuiting in its struggle to come up with a reasonable response, “—is it really—I mean—what—why?” You feel like a complete and utter idiot, but the visual proof of this ridiculous conspiracy theory you had concocted that had no right to hold a single drop of water throws you for a loop.

“They make me feel so much closer to you, and they’re also a souvenir from the first time I came here.”

Being reminded of that causes your face to explode like a steaming kettle, which incidentally also reminds you to message her manager. “Fine, you can go to my bedr—wait, no, actually, I’ll get the matching pair.” Halfway to your bedroom, you stop. What are you doing? Why are you interacting so much with your stalker? And why are you giving her your sock? “Actually, wait.” Turning around proves to be a mistake, as you are met with a giddy, excited Karina who is in the process of standing back up, and with her form-hugging outfit no longer hidden by her body-length trench coat, your brain malfunctions for a second.

“Hm?”

Shit. Don’t get distracted. This is why she’s still like this.

“Um, sorry, nothing—no, I mean, can you just give me back my socks?”

Karina frowns, taking a step back. “No!”

“Wha—” How are you even supposed to respond in this kind of a situation? Rationally, the answer is to report her to the police. But this is Karina of æspa. If news got out that she’s stalking someone, her reputation would go down the gutter and her career as an idol would suffer, and that is not something you want. “Um, please?”

“Then trade me something of equal value.”

“What? No, they’re my socks.”

“But I need them!”

It’s so difficult to argue with Karina, especially when her pouting lips, her drawn together eyebrows, her puppy dog eyes, everything about her is this adorable. “You need them…? For what?”

“They comfort me whenever I don’t get to see you for a long time.”

Honestly, you still don’t even know if you are dreaming. In a way, the only plausible explanation for how bizarre this conversation is that this is all a dream. “So, what do you want in exchange?”

“Maybe…”

Wait. Why are you offering to trade? Those socks are yours. You need to be harder on her, and not in that way. “Wait, no. Can I just have them back, please?”

“Another picture?”

“Really? Well—wait, no.” Damn it, why is it so easy to give in to her requests? “Don’t you have a lot of pictures of me already?”

“But I don’t have one of us together!”

You sigh, mostly to hide your embarrassment at the idea of taking a picture with Karina. It’s weird: one might think the relatively frequent close contact and interactions with the famous popstar trivializes the prospect of taking pictures with her, holding her hand, or even being near her, but it somehow doesn’t. “I need to text your manager first, give me a second.”

“Noo, doon’t~” You dodge her attempt to swipe your phone from you.

You’ve had meetings with your boss’s boss before, but this text message feels somehow even more anxiety-inducing. Karina is a top idol in the entertainment industry, and you are pretty much just an entry-level employee at some consulting agency: the worlds you live in can’t be more different. This isn’t about yourself or your anxiety, though: it’s about Karina and what’s best for her. It takes you barely a minute to send the text, by which time Karina has already given up trying to stop you.

“Well, now what?”

“We wait—” you divert your eyes as soon as they land on her shapely figure, outlined very nicely by the tight clothes she had chosen to wear that day, “—for your manager.”

“Well, what should we do while we wait?” The low, husky, seductive tone of voice sends a shudder up your spine.

“Nothing.”

That single word is all that you trust yourself to say before you escape to your bedroom, hoping she didn’t see the erection you tried hiding from her, and close the door before she has the chance to follow. “Just keep the socks, and please don’t steal anything else. I have, um, something to do.”

“Come on, we have a few minutes at least, right?”

You sink against the door, sitting on the other side of the closed wooden frame. You close your eyes and hold your head in your hands. Just plant your bum on the floor and your back against this door. That’s all you have to do.

“I bet I could get you to cum down my throat before I have to leave.”

The next moment, you find yourself back on your feet with your hands tightening around the doorknob. It’s that very moment that you freeze for a brief second. Whatever mystical force saves you from ripping the door from its hinges, whether it’s your inner conscious or God Himself, you thank it.

“Karina, please, just … wait there, ok?”

When there’s no response from the celebrity, you breathe a sigh of relief, going to your bed and plopping yourself down on it. A few seconds later, your phone buzzes—and you, without thinking, whip it out to open the message.

It’s a picture of Karina, devoid of all clothing, on your couch, the camera looking down at her with a packaged condom hanging out between her upward curling lips. Twin pairs of hardened nubs stood proudly away from her delectably bountiful bosom, her other hand buried between her milky white thighs.

“Fuck—” You recoil, nearly dropping the phone. The thing is, it isn’t even the first nude you had received from her, or even the fifth, but every time you had to fight the demons in your brain telling you to save it. And seeing that silver square dangling between those beautiful, soft, full, red lips refreshes the memory of the previous encounter: how amazing her lips felt, how unreal it felt to see Karina rolling the condom onto your cock … even the very fact she had one, hinting at either her intentions for today or that she’s always prepared tested the limits of your patience and self-control. What makes that worse is the teasing, playful message she sends with the erotic selfie: ‘Now do you wanna come out?~’

You shake your head, gritting your teeth and stalling for way too long before pushing your finger against the ‘delete’ button.

Yu Jimin, Karina, the leader of æspa, the object of lust and desire for men all over Korea—all over the world too, probably—who can’t even walk to the grocery store without dozens of articles and thousands of fans singing praises about how unrealistically gorgeous she is and how amazing her body’s proportions are, is in your apartment, sitting on your couch, fully naked. Touching herself.

What kind of insane are you to deny the open invitation to fuck her into next Tuesday?

‘Please stop doing that. It’s dangerous.’

After another solid minute of trying (and failing) to calm yourself down, you send the message. Even though the picture already vanished from your phone, the image is still so fresh in your mind you seriously consider jerking out a quick one.

‘If you want me to stop, then why don’t you come out here and make me?’

It goes without saying, but tugging your meat while you have a guest is terrible manners. Even if said smoking hot guest, who happens to be a stalker of yours, sends a second nude picture, this time with her legs spread further apart and the packaged condom resting on her thigh, a seductively winking at the camera while puckering those luscious, cherry lips of hers for the camera. Faintly, you swear you see a slight discoloring at the very intersection of her legs her hands are placed inside.

All you have to do is plant your face against your mattress and do nothing. Her manager is on her way. And when she arrives, the temptress will be taken away, and this increasingly daunting task, of giving in to sin, will similarly be whisked away.

But even with your eyes closed, the image of her beautifully soft curves you swear you can feel in the palms of your hands is burned in the backsides of your eyelids. Tempting as she is, sinful as she is, you stay glued to the bed. Remember what happened last time. A repeat of that is something I needed to avoid at all costs.

When your phone next buzzes, you ignore it. Even so, you can feel the tantalizing, magnetic pull of that phone, drawing your fingers to the phone’s screen to unlock it, like a siren singing out to a stuffy ship full of men who’ve had to sleep shoulder-to-shoulder with their compatriots.

“Are you really not coming out?”

Even her voice, alluring and captivating as it is, nearly peels you off your mattress like a true siren and to your bedroom door. But all you have to do is remember the repercussions from last time, the hell you went through, how much stress and anxiety you had during those few weeks, something you never brought up to Karina nor plan on ever doing. She stalks you like it’s her second job, but she is still your idol—you want her to be happy, and telling her the turmoil you underwent in part due to her definitely works against that goal.

In fact … would it make her so unhappy that she stopped stalking you?

“But last—” as you begin speaking, your throat closes, as if someone had magically taken away your ability to speak. As much as you can claim to not know why that is, saying so is to lie. Why you again and again fail to take decisive action to push Karina away, why your actions clash so much with your logical and rational thinking, is all very simple.

Logically, perhaps even morally, you know getting Karina to stop obsessing over you is the right thing to do, and all actions towards that goal ought to be taken. But … do you want that? Now that you know how it feels to have the attention of the idol you spent so much of your money and time on, going back to your boring old life is completely out of the question. You know that this isn’t good for Karina, especially because she’s an idol, but in the depths of your heart, you love how much she obsesses over you: as initially jarring it was to learn about the hundreds of photos she had of you, as startling it was to have her throw herself on you randomly as you walked down the street, all the attention she gives you and specifically you is… frankly, addictive. Sometimes, you wonder if Karina is more addicted to you than you to her.

“Hm?”

In the end, you plant yourself back onto your bed, saying, “Nothing.” You will do everything in your power to maintain the status quo. Attempting to deviate too far from it proved to be disastrous, so all you have to do is keep things the way it is. Stalker or not, keeping a healthy amount of distance is probably for the best, as idol and fan. That’s why you’ve never really asked her if she has romantic feelings for you. Ever since you found out that Karina has been stalking you, it’s been like this: Karina jumping over and over into the fires of controversy, and you barely being able to catch her and pull her away each time. You had already failed once, and you don’t intend to fail again—after all, if anything happens, it means that your time with Karina will come to an end.

Your time with Karina, or as a normal person might call it, ‘Karina stalking you’.

You always had the impression that most stalkers were mentally unwell. What, then, of a person who loves being stalked?

“Are you really going to pass up on—” A knock at the door interrupts her, and seeing that your most recent text is from Karina’s manager, you breathe a sigh of relief.

“That’s your manager. Better get going.”

A whine, and then, “Fine. But, if you ever—”

“Have a good day, Karina.”

Part of the reason you cut her off is to save yourself, as you don’t know if you can hear her utter another erotic word and maintain your self-control. The other is to, metaphorically, push her out the door. It’s only after a few seconds that you realize how curt you sounded, but there’s nothing that can be done at that point: maybe Karina taking it personally will be what’s best for her.

But the guilt makes you open the door regardless. “Hey, um—” By the time your eyes land back on Karina, she’s already putting on her coat. Her manager is also inside, standing at the doorway.

“Hi again, I’m so sorry for this, I’ll make sure to properly reprimand her.”

“Oh, it’s ok. As long as Karina’s safe, that’s all that matters.”

Her manager flashes a look of appreciation and empathy, turning back to her managee to say, “How many times have I told you to leave this poor man alone? Do you want to be all over the news tomorrow?”

“But you know how good I am at avoiding the press.”

“You can’t—” her manager sighs, turning to face you after opening the door one last time and saying, “—thank you so much for messaging me, I promise I’ll try to keep Karina on a tighter leash and cause you less trouble.”

You can’t very well say ‘it’s ok’ again, can you? It isn’t normal to simply be ok with this type of behavior, and you don’t want to give any hints to anyone at the deepest depths of your psyche, that you actually love that Karina is this obsessed with you. “Thank you,” is all you could muster. The last glance you share with Karina is all you need to know that you emerging from your bedroom was unnecessary after all; you were ready to give the excuse that you opened the door to let her manager in and apologize for being so cold in the meantime, but seeing her eyes beaming a smile at you reassures you that saying so isn’t needed.

You try to forget about it the rest of the day; when it comes time to sleep, however, no matter how hard you close your eyes and attempt to clear your mind, you can’t drift off. You had actually made it a point to try to avoid the couch, but your curiosity ultimately got the best of you: still, no matter how hard you looked, you still couldn’t find that one discolored patch you could’ve sworn you saw in the second picture. Not that you’re too upset about it or anything.

You probably need to wash those cushions soon.

You turn over, letting out another sigh.

God damn it, might as well.

After a quick few minutes, exhaustion takes ahold of you and darkness overtakes your conscious. When you next awaken, it’s still dark. You aren’t one to wake up much in the middle of the night, but even taking that fact into consideration isn’t the most startling thing. That belongs to the reason you had awoken: namely, the figure at the foot of your bed.

You dart a half-upright position. “What the fu —”

“It’s me.”

The shock is enough to blow away your sluggishness, but the voice clears your head of all the just-woke-up confusion and any semblance of drowsiness. “Ka … rina?”

As your eyes adjust to the dim light of your darkened bedroom, they land on the beaming smile she offers you. “Yeah!”

“What the hell—” you understand you should be more shaken, perhaps even terrified to some extent, but neither emotion wells up inside you. You know the ‘normal’ reaction is to be terrified of the person who broke into your house in the middle of the night, but some combination of being used to Karina being places she really shouldn’t be and having fantasized about this exact scenario before drifting off instead causes a burgeoning elation and excitement to bubble to the surface. “—what are you doing here?”

“Well, we have more time now, right?”

You sit up fully on your bed. “No. No, no no no.” Those emotions aren’t something you can let Karina know about, though. Maintaining the status quo and all. Who knows how she might react if she finds out your true feelings about her obsession with you? “What time is it right now?”

“Um, about 3am?”

“3—Go home! Get some sleep! What about your schedule for tomorrow?”

“No, tomorrow—today, actually, I have nothing.”

“Wha—” you stammer for a few seconds, your brain overloading with all the millions of questions and thoughts you have but unable to pick one. It eventually lands on the most obvious one. “—how did you even get in?”

“Your spare key.”

“My spare—” the spare key you left in your kitchen drawer, you imagine is what she’s talking about. She must’ve found it while you had locked yourself in your bedroom.

In the nude? Was she walking around your apartment completely naked?

You shake your head, clearing the thought from your mind. “—um, can you give that back?”

“Aww, whyy~?”

Karina claims to be bad at doing aegyo, but why is she so damn adorable when she whines and pouts like that?

“Please?”

“Then, I’ll trade you.”

The first time you tried to resist her trade offer that day—the previous day, technically—it failed spectacularly. It’s ridiculous to have to trade to acquire something that was stolen from you, but you understand she isn’t going to give it back so easily. “Fine. For what?”

“The spare key…” a mischievous glint in her eyes is noticeable even in the dark. The pit of your stomach drops upon seeing it. “…for—”

“No.” You cut her off before she can finish. Seeing that expression in her eyes is evidence enough of what her next word will be. And hearing that word coming from her mouth is the last thing you need at the moment: your heart is beating ten million miles a minute, your attempt to mask it with a cold, emotionless response being your only barrier between the status quo and Karina’s desires.

“How amazing your cock felt stirring up my insides was something I couldn’t forget.” Unfortunately, that barrier is a flimsy piece of paper and Karina is a barreling, runaway train. “How about you? Do you remember how my pussy felt?”

“No, please, Karina—”

She throws aside your blanket and seats herself on the edge of your bed, tenderly placing a hand on your leg. “Are you sure?”

Your breath hitches at that slight bit of contact. It’s ridiculous; after all the close-quarters contact you’ve had with her, after having had sex with her, you still act like a pure maiden at even the slightest bit of physical contact. “Karina, I’m serious. You need to go home, before I have to contact your manager—”

“With what phone?” Your eyes bulge out upon seeing the phone Karina is waving at you—your phone.

“Give that back—” you swipe at her hand but miss, the phone being pulled out of your grasp just in time. “—Karina…”

“How about this: I find out if you actually remember last time, and if I find out that you’re telling the truth, then I’ll give you back your phone.”

“No! It’s my phone—” the tips of your ears burst in a cloud of steam when you feel Karina’s hand slide up your leg, getting closer to the erection that you hope the dark veil of the night is adequately hiding. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you continue, “—can I please have it back?”

“Then you shouldn’t be afraid to let me check, should you?”

That is something you need to avoid at all costs. “Damn it, Jimin.” You lurch forward, grabbing one arm while the other reaches past her and snatches the phone from her hand. “You can’t just—” Why was that so easy? Was she not resisting—

Turning to make eye contact with her, her face mere centimeters from your own, turns out to be the worst possible thing you could’ve done in that situation.

In an instant, Karina is laying down on the bed you were sleeping on just moments ago, her hips straddled by your legs.

“J-Jong—!”

“You goddamn slut.” The words come out of your mouth before you can even fully process what you had just done to her. It feels like you are being possessed by some kind of carnal beast, but you don’t even know if you hate it. After all, being the passenger to this beast lets you see the mixture of red-eared embarrassment and lip-quivering, eye-twinkling lust of the one who had awakened it. On the stage, Karina dominated the cameras and the audience with her powerful stage presence, but in bed, you dominate her with a mere touch. The normally charismatic popstar is reduced to nothing but a whimpering, wanton woman by your fingers. “Breaking into my apartment in the dead of a night for a booty call?”

Seeing the arousal deepen in Karina’s eyes and seeing her legs squeeze together in your peripheral vision invigorates the beast. “I-I’m sorry…”

Your first time in this very bed flashes in your mind: how she obeyed your every whim, the submissive way she responded after you had thrown away all semblance of consideration for her when your lust reached a breaking point, how she shifted from demanding to demure the instant you used any kind of force on her—“I gotta wake up in a few hours for work, how are you gonna make that up to me?”—the feeling you got after fucking her for the first time, how learning that Karina was a power bottom made you even more addicted to Karina than you had already been, it all came to a head at that very moment.

“I’ll—I’ll relieve all your stress.”

With how forceful Karina is normally, you sometimes wonder if your interpretation of the singer at the time was correct. Maybe you were taken by the moment, or maybe she was just putting up an act?

“Channel the frustration you feel that your boss only ever assigns you too many or not enough tasks, the annoyance you feel that your favorite ramen place is closed due to construction, the disappointment and concern that your stocks haven’t been doing well recently…”

But seeing her laying below you, chest heaving and eyes sparkling with excitement, you know that you were right on the mark.

“Vent out all your pent-up emotions into me.”

You don’t seem to care how she knows about your grievances with your work, your favorite ramen place being closed, or your stock portfolio; all you seem to care about is the beautiful platter Karina is serving herself to you with.

“This is what you wanted all along, wasn’t it?” Now that you are sufficiently close, you can see that her outfit is decidedly different than what she had been wearing before; while the previous outfit showed off her curves beautifully as it was, the top she is wearing now shows so much cleavage, it leaves practically nothing to the imagination. It might’ve been a trick of the light, but you swear you can see little bumps where her nipples should be through the clothing. “You came here with half your tits exposed like this?”

“No, I took off my coat.”

Your eyes briefly glance to the side, quickly finding a rather thick leather coat laying on the floor next to the bed.

“That’s it?” Karina nods. “And you didn’t even, for a second, think about what would happen to you if some drunk guy saw you with such a slutty outfit on?”

“I-I’m sorry!”

“What if someone saw this sorry excuse for clothes you have—” your fingers curl around the deep neckline of the top and pull it down, causing her bountiful bosom to pop out. You’ve seen them plenty of times already, in person once and in pictures numerous times, but every time you are completely enthralled by them. Watching the perfectly round, plush mounds bounce around a few times in a triumphant cry out for their freedom, zeroing in on the palm-sized light pink areola surrounding her even pinker nipples, swollen and erect and begging to be squeezed— “and decided they wanted to have their way with you?”

Karina doesn’t respond with an apology, but with a moan, in response to your hands taking the hefty mounds of fat and rolling its marshmallowy texture in your knuckles. You had never been with a woman so well-endowed and had no idea they could be this fun to knead and roll until the last time you had this pleasure.

“You’re an idol, have some degree of self-preservation, wouldn’t you?”

The seriousness of the concern dissipates with every squeeze and every roll of her nipples between your fingers. “J-Jong…”

“Is that even a concern? Maybe you’d like that, being bent over some random alleyway, taking some stranger’s cock inside your pussy?”

Just the thought of that makes you tense up, causing Karina to yelp at the sudden pinch you give to her nipples. “N-No! I only want yours!”

You can feel your manhood straining against your boxers, a well of lust and desire stirring up inside you. As repulsive as the thought of Karina being raped is, some sick part of you decides it’s also hot, adding self-directed rage to the hodgepodge of confusing emotions inside you. “Do you even know how fucking irresistible you are?”

Karina shakes her head, perhaps sensing the bits of frustration and worry in your voice. “N—I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking about that…”

“Then what were you thinking?”

Although her eyes were downcast with guilt, her cheeks were still flushed, breath hitching at every kneading and massaging motion of your hands on her tits. “I—I was just, I was just really horny and wanted to feel you between my legs and messing my insides up so much that I couldn’t think about anything else.”

You of course know the prevalence of stalker fans—sasaeng fans—in KPop. The infamous case of Nayeon’s stalker, who had a delusion that she reciprocated the twisted kind of love he harbored for her, among various other cases, driven by the marketing strategy of the entertainment labels preying on the loneliness of a population of young adults starved for human connection, is all too familiar with you. There seems to be a new story in the news about an idol being harassed by sasaeng fans every week, but it was just that: news. It has as much connection to you as everything else that appears in the news, all the reported murders and celebrity drama and the like. A stalker is as mystical of a person as a serial killer: you know they exist, but you feel like you don’t truly understand the depths of their depravity.

So this is the result of fucking your stalker, huh?

That thought breaks you out of your lustful stupor, a moment of clarity dissipating all the sexual desire building up inside you.

Karina became so horny that she pretty much risked her life, walking out in public in the middle of the night with such a skimpy outfit hidden beneath a single coat, to do this.

“Hm? … What’s wrong?”

Her obsession with me completely disabled her reason and logical thinking. Her, a woman, an idol, did something so brazen and irresponsible and dangerous…

“J-Jong—…what’s wrong?”

…and it’s all my fault. If I didn’t respond so favorably to all her advances, she wouldn’t be doing such stupid, dangerous things.

“Jong—”

“Karina.”

“Hm?!” You pushing yourself off Karina causes her to jump a little, herself following suit and sitting up so that she could better look you in the eye.

“Why did you do something so dangerous?”

“What? What do you mean?”

“I’m serious.” You almost can’t bring yourself to maintain eye contact, but you force yourself to. “You know how dangerous it is for a woman, much less an idol, to be walking around in the middle of the night, right?”

Karina, undergoing serious whiplash from the prurient way you were speaking to the dangerously calm and serious tone you’re using, stammers helplessly. Eventually, she lands on, “…I wasn’t thinking about that. I’m sorry.”

“You need to. Your safety is always the most important thing.”

“I know—”

“As your fan, I wouldn’t know what to do with myself if I read in the news that you were assaulted while walking around in the middle of the night. And it would be even worse if I realized it was because you were walking to my apartment.” That last bit is an indulgent, selfish thing to say, you realize that, but you can’t help it. Perhaps if you make it about yourself, Karina will absorb what you’re trying to say better.

“…I’m sorry…”

Hearing her soft, defeated response and seeing the clear guilt in her eyes shatters your heart a little. “Damn it,” you mutter to yourself, sighing and turning your eyes back onto her, “Karina, I…” You wonder if this is what being Karina’s manager feels like. At times, it feels like you care more about her reputation as an idol than she does herself, and that’s very worrying. It’s this one thing lingering in the back of your mind that prevents you from fully enjoying the ridiculous situation the two of you are in. As many benefits there are to being Karina’s obsession, as much as you love the attention Karina gives you, in your heart of hearts, you know this can only end one of two ways: either Karina gets discovered as a stalker of one of her fans and suffers serious and irreparable damage to her reputation, or you push her away and she ends up hating you. The third option is that she gets tired of stalking you, which, with respect to everything that’s happened, seems the least likely scenario to occur. And, when you think about that, you sometimes end up wishing that this whole situation never happened: because you don’t have the strength of mind to do what it takes to get Karina to stop, but in doing so, are enabling her to continue ruining her life.

“…I don’t think—”

“If I promise to start prioritizing my safety, can you reward me?”

“Uh—” to be honest, something like this doesn’t fall within your expectations. “Um…” but, if you are to enable Karina in any way, then shouldn’t you use this power for her own good, whenever possible? “…Yeah.”

Karina beams at you. “Ok! Then, for every week I stay out of trouble with the media, I get one reward from you.”

You don’t know where this is going, but if Karina pulling her top back up and over her bosom is any indication, it doesn’t mean what you think it might mean. “…‘Reward’…?”

Instead of answering right away, Karina swings her leg to the other side of your body, and before you know it, Karina is straddling your lap. “You.”

So, it was what I was thinking.

You feel your heart revving back up. “But—” she pauses. “—then, every week?”

This causes her to stop and think. “Then, every month?”

Frankly, you don’t really feel like you’re in a situation to say ‘no’. If you do, worse things might happen. “Fine.”

She beams at you. “Great! Now, I’ll be claiming my reward now~”

Wait. What did I just agree to?

“Wai—” a moan interrupts you as Karina’s hand reaches down to cup your growing erection.

Your breath hitches. “You’re hard,” she notes, teasingly, to you.

“Karina…”

“Call me ‘Jimin’.”

“…What?”

“Come on~”

Karina barely has to convince you before you buckle. “Fine, Jimin.” Her jubilant squeal puts a smile on your face.

“Jonghyun!”

The exuberant way she responds with your name, the smile on her lips and in her eyes, how can you not let out a chuckle? “Hm?”

“Jonghyun! Jonghyun, Jonghyun, Jonghyun!”

For a moment, you forget the precarious situation you are in. For a moment, it feels like Karina is your girlfriend, and you two have just taken a step towards deepening your relationship.

“What is it, Jimin?”

When you say her name, her smile grows wider and the slight hue of pink on her cheeks suddenly become noticeable.

“Are you ready, Jonghyun?”

Feeling her palming the tension in your crotch brings you back to reality, in which your favorite idol is straddling your lap, leaning over enough to give you an eyeful of her plunging cleavage while her hands rubs your arousal.

“God…”

Hearing you moan, Jimin’s smile sparkles with a mischievous glint. “Does that feel good, Jonghyun?”

“You know what would make it feel better?”

Without missing a beat, her fingers curl around the hem of your boxers and pulls them down. Out springs your confined penis, which the topless beauty takes a second to marvel at before gingerly wrapping her fingers around the veiny, pulsating shaft.

“It’s so warm…”

You let out a hiss, ecstasy shooting up your spine at the sensation of her soft fingers gently squeezing your cock.

“Fuck, Jimin…”

She slowly begins pumping your member, but more so out of amazement than from a desire to make you feel pleasure. Her eyes are zeroed in on the dick that both of her hands are moving up and down on, her breath deepening as precum begins to leak out of your tip and onto the sides of her index finger.

“Wow, you smell so good…”

You remember her saying that quite often last time and honestly didn’t know what to make of it. You don’t use cologne or ball toner or anything; sure, you make sure to wash and keep your loins relatively clean, but it’s been a while since you shaved down there. What could she possibly like about your scent?

“It’s so hot…”

“Fuck you’re hot.”

Jimin, in a trance-like state, watches her hands pump your cock with such laser-focus that she doesn’t respond to your reply, nor does she react to your feet making contact with her sides. As your erection grows in Jimin’s firm grip, her breathing also deepens, her chest heaving with every increasingly heavy breath she takes. Her tongue occasionally darting out to wet her luscious, red lips, her barely blinking eyes unmoving from your crotch, her hands carefully rubbing your entire length with every pump, the rise and fall of her tits hovering above your legs, the sight of her practically worshipping your cock makes you forget every inhibition you had about this.

“Hmmm…” Your breathing deepens and your arousal grows, but it’s all cut short when she abruptly stops. Before you can question her, she lets out a, “fuck,” under her breath.

You had barely ever heard Jimin swear. Whether it’s because she wants to uphold an image around you, or because of her Catholic upbringing, or for some other reason, even the first time you two fucked, she didn’t swear at all. So, this time, when you hear her swear, you do a double-take, wondering if you’re hearing that correctly.

“Jimin?”

“I can’t take it anymore.”

She suddenly rises up from her crouching position into a kneeling position and pulls her shorts off. The moonlight streaming in the window of your bedroom frames her body perfectly, highlighting the same curves you fantasized about a few hours ago, and crucially, revealing the reason for her sudden explosion of frustration: even in the dim moonlight, you can see that her panties are soaked.

“I need you so bad, Jonghyun.”

In the next second, you’re hovering over her, her legs threaded between your kneeling ones. The intensity of your stare makes Jimin squirm, but you can’t help it: she looks so damn sexy.

“Please, Jonghyun.”

Hearing the plea snaps you out of the daze Jimin’s aroused expression entrapped you in. “So needy.” Your hands go to the intersection of her legs, your index finger tracing the outline of her skimpy underwear. “And so wet.”

It was only a single digit, but it’s enough to make the idol shudder. You can see her body tensing the closer your finger gets to her sex, and feeling that power makes you grin.

“Ooh, oh my…”

Jimin lets out a whine as you lift your drenched index finger off her. As you lift it closer to your face, you see her eyes trained on that finger, so instead, you lean over and offer it to her. Without hesitation, she parts her lips, and you direct that finger into her waiting mouth.

“Fuck…” The feeling of her plump lips wrapping around the base of your finger and her tongue wrapping around its length adds to the sexiness of the sight. “…that’s so fucking hot.” The brief reprieve from earlier had reigned in the beast that had awoken inside you, but now, you can feel a tension building deep within your chest, like a depleting patience meter that would break free the carnal beast’s shackles.

You pull your finger out of her mouth, planting it on her clavicle and running it down her sternum. A silver trail of saliva follows your finger up and around her breasts, an action that causes Jimin to shudder and whine a little bit more, before they find their way back to the panties absolutely drenched in her juices.

“Jonghyun, oh my God…”

You raise an eyebrow at her. “Using your Lord’s name in vain?”

Jimin’s eyes go wide, vehemently shaking her head. “No! I’m sorry, I didn’t—” her breath hitches, letting out a yelp as you suddenly press your index and middle finger against the clothed slit. Her entire body jumps, as if an electric current ran through her body.

“Naughty, naughty girl.”

As your two fingers rub against her moist heat, Jimin’s reactions become more erratic, her cries more desperate. “Please, oh my God, Jonghyun!”

“Oh my God, what?”

The more pressure you apply to the damp piece of cloth, the louder Jimin’s moans get. “I-I need you—” she lets out a shrill yelp when your thumb accidentally brushes up against the swollen, sensitive nub sitting atop her labia. “—need you, you, inside!”

You can tell Jimin is slowly losing her mind with your teasing, and honestly, so are you. With every sensual sound the singer emits, with every jerk of her body, you can feel your breath grow heavier and something twisting inside your chest. As much discomfort that twisting gives you, you can’t help but revel in seeing Jimin getting more and more impatient, watching her writhe and wiggle at your every touch. This sense of control and power is something that you thrive on.

“Hm? What was that?”

“Ah, aah!” Jimin’s body tenses up again as your thumb ‘accidentally’ flicks her clothed clit. “Jonghyun, please!”

You’re getting impatient too. Your cock is straining against your waist, so much that it almost hurts, but you continue rubbing her clothed sex with your two digits. The more you hold yourself back, the better the reward is.

“Please what?”

But there’s something else in that.

“Please, please, your—your cock—ah!” Your thumb very purposefully presses her pleasure button, causing a jolt to be sent into Jimin’s body. The grin on your face widens. “—your cock, I need it, need it, inside me!”

The longer you keep her on the edge like this, the more you tease her, the more she’ll want you. The more she’ll savor the feeling of your dick filling her wanting, needing pussy up, and the more obsessed she’ll become with you.

When she begins bucking her hips to meet your fingers, you pull back. “Mm mm~” you say in a teasing, singsong voice. “Naughty girl.” In Jimin’s eyes are desire and lust, even more than before. Your fingers pressing against her undergarments draw out more impatient whines, but this time, her body obediently doesn’t jerk into them. “Tell me how badly you want it.”

“I—I’m, I’m burning up, my whole body is so hot…” she lets out a gasp as your fingers hook around the thin material of her panties, which transforms into something between a sigh and a moan as you push the sopping wet piece of lingerie down her slim, silky-smooth legs. You take a moment to savor that feeling: her leg muscles are toned, but her skin is soft and smooth. Just feeling it against your fingers is paradise, but for Jimin, it only drives her further off the edge. “It—It hurts, Jonghyun, it hurts…”

You snap out of it, stopping immediately to look up at her. “What? Sorry, what hurts?”

Unexpectedly, Jimin’s face turns an even brighter red at the question. “…it.” Her gaze falling on her legs make you, at first, panic even more, thinking she was somehow indicating her discomfort with you taking her panties off. “My … it.” When she repeats those words, you come to realize what she means.

But, just to make sure…

“Your what? What hurts?”

“D-Don’t tease me!”

You hide the grin threatening to spill onto your lips. “If you don’t tell me what hurts, I won’t be able to help you, Jimin.”

“Jonghyun…” You continue pushing the undergarments off her legs, and by the time they make it past her feet, she kicks it off. “…ah, ah, oh my—”

Her voice becomes breathy as you push her legs apart, her voice raising an octave when your fingers rub against her pink folds, sticky from the excess of her honey. You can hear how crazy the direct contact makes Jimin, and it sends you into a frenzy. “Fuck, you’re so wet.” More than being impatient, it isn’t simply a desire anymore: it was a need.

“Jonghyun~” Her back arches when you stick your two longest digits straight into her inferno, eliciting a high-pitched squeal. “Oh!”

“You like that?”

Jimin nods her head fervently, as if possessed by some lascivious ghost. “More!” You can start seeing the sweat gleaming off her brows. “Pl-Please!”

“You love feeling me inside you?”

The fiercer your fingers, the louder Jimin moans, and the more her back arches off the bed, and the harder your dick becomes.

“Yes! Oh my God, yes!”

You can feel how tight her pussy is, even around your two digits, but are still caught off guard when she succumbs to an orgasm after you slam your thumb against her clit.

“Jongh—” the first spurt of liquid sprays onto your wrist, and before you even have the chance to react, the next lands on your face, drawing a diagonal line from your left eye, across your nose, and to your right cheek. “—oh, oh my, oh, fuck!”

The singer continues to spray her nectar all over your arm, torso, face, and neck, convulsing against the bed, her body wracked with an overwhelming ecstasy that causes the bed to creak at the uncontrolled vibration of her body.

“Holy…”

Seeing Jimin’s reaction, you stop for a moment. You aren’t this good … so what caused this? Is this just from all the foreplay you were doing? Or maybe she’s just this horny?

“Ah, ah…” Jimin’s climax begins to subside, her back meeting the bed once again, but far from a look of content washing over her face, her eyes lock onto the rock-hard cock attached at your hips with an insatiable hunger. “Jonghyun…”

You can see the lust lingering in her eyes, even as she basked in the afterglow of her orgasm, and that’s enough to bring you back into it. “Naughty girl. Who said you could cum before me?”

Her breath hitches again as you start aligning your cock to her core, poking at her inner thigh. “I-I’m sorry, oh my…”

“You were so horny, you came from just my fingers.”

“Jonghyun…” The tip of your penis makes contact with the sopping wet sex of the idol singer, causing her to let out another gasp in response. “…oh, oh God…”

“Are you sure you can handle this, then?”

Jimin only answers with encouraging moans, her gaze locked fiercely onto your dick as it nears her entrance. You can feel the tension building inside her, the anticipation in her clenched fists and her curled toes, her lips parted and letting out little puffs of sighs and gasps. When you look up to meet her gaze, it becomes evident she simply didn’t hear you, so laser-focused on your cock that every other sense is rendered inert.

“Can you, Jimin?”

Hearing her name snapped her out of her trance. “Hm? Sorry, what?”

In that brief moment when her concentration shifts is when you strike. Barely able to hold onto your own senses at that point, you let go of every semblance of self-control, mercilessly driving your cock as deep as you can inside her.

The resulting screaming moan erupting from Jimin’s throat is so loud, you’re momentarily snapped out of your lustful stupor in concern for your neighbors. After settling the matter quickly by reconciling the impossibility of identifying Karina of æspa with just a muffled moan, you turn your attention back to the wet, sticky, hot grip Jimin’s pussy is exerting onto your dick.

“Jong—jong—jo-nng, hnng…” her words melt into meaningless sounds and lewd noises the deeper you push yourself into her. You, yourself, feel like you’re melting into her; not even a few seconds in and it already feels like your shaft is being lathered on all sides by some warm, viscous fluid, in thanks both to her prior orgasm and how tightly her drenched walls are hugging your cock. Whereas normally, the slimy feeling on your privates might’ve been repulsive, knowing it’s a product of Jimin’s lust for you turns that into arousal.

“Shit…”

The sight before you is frankly, utterly unbelievable. It’s already unbelievable enough that this isn’t the first time you’ve seen her naked, and it’s even more unbelievable that this isn’t the first time you’re fucking her, but seeing her splayed before you, her eyes shut but her eyebrows furrowed and her lips parted with her tongue threatening to haplessly loll out, the hypnotic swaying motion of her breasts heaving in accordance with her breath, her arm muscles tensed and her fingers curled into tight fists, her beautifully smooth and pale skin illuminated perfectly by the moonlight streaming from the window of your bedroom, her cute belly button and a little further south, in which your cock was firmly wedged between her slim, silky legs, makes you even harder, painfully so. You can feel a familiar sensation welling up deep inside your loins.

“God, fuck, Jimin…”

The pistoning motion of your cock prevents Jimin from forming full words, reduced to letting out half-words and squealing moans. You can feel bits of her juices landing on your groin with every thrust, the squelching noise of your connection and the warm air quickly filling with the musk of sex stimulating your senses even more. You don’t think it is possible to get even more horny after finally fulfilling Jimin’s desire of being filled up with you, but, in hindsight, there simply wasn’t a way for that not to happen.

“Jo-Jong—Jonghyun!”

The first time Jimin manages to get out a full word is what snaps you out of the trance you were in, mesmerized by the back-and-forth swaying of her tits while pushing yourself inside her again and again.

“Is this what you wanted?”

The enthusiasm of Jimin’s nodding might’ve seemed hyperbolic if you didn’t feel her legs wrapping around your waist, squeezing you closer to her in perfect synchronicity with your thrusts.

“It—yes!”

You can feel the poor bed frame shaking and faintly, you can hear it squeaking under your vigorous motions, but you pay it no heed. Your mind is overloading with ecstasy, barely able to focus on anything but the sensual, screaming seductress underneath you. You can feel your body moving, and hers in sync with you, your cock unrelenting on its assault on Jimin’s pussy.

Why did you deny yourself this for so long?

“How horny must you have since entering my room to become such a shameless slut, huh?”

Jimin shakes her head. “N-No, sin-since—” her words transform into a moan, her back arching off the bed again. The motion inadvertently, or perhaps very intentionally, pushes out her delectable rack, and like opposite poles of a magnet, your hands are drawn to her round, perky tits. “—since—ahn!” An adorable squeal erupts from her lips when your hands reestablish contact with her breasts. You are listening to Jimin, you swear, and had a hunch that this would disrupt her from giving you an answer to your inquiry, but you can’t help grabbing them as much as a droplet of water can’t help falling down a waterfall. Even watching the squishy, plush skin giving way to your kneading and squeezing motions is addicting in and of itself, but feeling its softness … it’s a wonder how you were able to restrain yourself hours before. But now that you’re this far, you can feel that burgeoning feeling in your nethers expanding, as if about to burst. Gritting your teeth and increasing the strength of your squeezing is all you can do to hold it back; while you want to continue indulging in the heavenly feeling of Jimin’s hot, tight walls rubbing against your dick, this very action is what’s causing the impending climax to loom over you. It’s a serious dilemma: the more you indulge more in Jimin’s pussy, the sooner it’ll come to an end. So, what should you do?

The solution you find is within your grasp: instead of focusing on that, focusing on Jimin’s rack, you find, extends the time you have left. “So heavy. It’s only fitting such a blatant harlot like you has such massive tits, isn’t it?” Your fingers softly squeeze her nipples, and a louder squeal splits the warm, musky air. You can see her body tense up in reaction to it, and also feel it: her pussy squeezes your cock shortly after, causing a groan to tumble out your lips. That tension threatens to unravel, but you push it down at the last second. Now that you are actually fucking her, enjoying this for as long as possible is the primary thing on your mind.

“—I was horny ever since entering this apartment earlier today.”

Jimin pushed the words out of her mouth in rapid-fire, but clearly enough for you to understand.

Oh.

…

Oh.

No wonder she came here in the dead of night with such a form-fitting outfit. No wonder she came so quickly to just your fingers. No wonder her face is so flushed, and why she looks like she’s in heat, why her facial expression and her body language—why everything about her screams ‘I need to be bred by you. Now.’

For a moment, you wonder how you’d feel if you were blue-balled for hours and hours on end. How excruciating that would be. How desperate you’d be to find reprieve. Maybe she had even masturbated, maybe even a few times, before coming here. And, while you were able to relieve yourself, Jimin seemingly wasn’t. Assuming she did try, it clearly didn’t work. And, so, at the end of her rope, she jumped out of bed, dressed herself like this, and walked over to your apartment.

“Fuck.”

With that knowledge, everything seems to change. Amidst the pleasure and ecstasy Jimin is drowning in, you can see the relief hidden in her face. Mixed in with her pants and moans and squeals and ecstatic screams are traces of a long-awaited contentment. And to know that it is you who caused it, to know that it is you that the Jimin laying before you obsessed so hard over, and now it is your cock granting relieve to the pussy aching to be fucked but getting no reprieve for hours and hours on end, pushes you damn near the edge.

“Fuck.”

Jimin can feel the increased vigor of your motions, too, and responds in kind. Her hands are now gripping your bedsheets, her heels digging into the soft mattress she was laying on, doing anything and everything to keep her body from flying off. The wooden frame of your bed shakes with the cadence of your synchronized movements, its headboard lightly banging against the wall it’s propped against.

“I’m close, Jimin.”

She, on the other hand, isn’t able to share a similar warning. “Jong-Jonghyun, ah, I’m sorry—!” The first torrent, again, catches you off guard, spraying all over your groin and abdominal area, as well as her own legs and stomach. “—oh—” Her body vibrates even more violently than before, her eyes rolling to the back of her head, completely and utterly succumbing to the ecstasy wracking her body. “—it’s so—” Her vigorous reaction to her climax stimulates you even further, the jerking motion causing the tension you were so desperately trying to hold back to explode. “—nng, oh my—” But looking at her tensed facial features, listening to her alluring voice shaking in unintentional vibrato, feeling her convulsing walls squeezing your cock in a rolling motion, as if attempting to coerce your seed out, it’s only a matter of time. “—fuck!”

Hearing that, the rare swear out of the mouth of the Catholic girl, does it. You yell at her one final time, a barely coherent string of nearly meaningless words, before you bury yourself as far as you can reach inside her and unleash everything.

“A-Ah!” Your hot, sticky seed shoots straight into her womb, each rope of semen splattering against her insides causing her to flinch a little. “Oh, ah, so hot!” It’s only then that you finally remember: you don’t have a condom on.

“Wait, fuck—” But it’s too late. Jimin’s legs are wrapped tightly around your back, trampling any ideas of pulling out.

“So hot, oh, oh God—”

“N-No, no, Kari—Jimin!” You try anyway, reaching back in a vain attempt to peel her legs off you. Whether the reason for it is that you don’t have the strength or you don’t put enough into it is barely a question: your hips keep bucking into her viscously, every audible, wet clapping sound of your balls against her ass moistened with her own ejaculate sending shockwaves of pleasure into you. “Damn it—” your words are drowned out by Jimin’s orgasmic moans, her climax extended by the abrupt intrusion of your seed her pussy was so desperately trying to milk out.

You don’t even realize the fact that you’re using Jimin’s boobs as a handle while you ride out your orgasm with her until it subsides and the tension in your hands relax.

“Jonghyun…”

You take a few moments to catch your breath, all your strength suddenly having left your body. You can barely keep yourself upright, and almost slipping from pushing against the smooth, buttery texture of her boobs is what makes you realize what you’ve done. You lift your eyes, and, surely enough, her otherwise pink areola is a noticeable shade darker.

“Damn it, fuck…”

Your refractory period is hitting you, hard, so when Jimin smiles and pulls you onto her chest, you don’t retaliate. With your cock still wedged deep inside her, it isn’t even given a chance to soften—still, not even the pillowy feeling of her bosom against your cheeks is enough to grant you the strength to immediately go again.

“I can feel it inside me, Jonghyun~” At first, you figure she’s referring to your cock. “It feels so warm, and so full…” Then, you realize she’s talking about something else.

You dart up, trying to push yourself off her but being stopped by her legs. “Shit—”

“Hm?” Your sudden actions startle Jimin, whose facial expression transforms from contentment to concern. “What?”

“No, shit—”

“Jonghyun? What’s wrong?”

Even the worried look on Karina’s face is beautiful, and heartwarming to an extent, but the fact that she’s more concerned about your sudden outburst than the fact that you just came in her extinguishes those feelings.

“Karina, you—”

“Jimin.”

“—shouldn’t—” the way she can pout so adorably, even fully in the nude, with your cock stoppering her pussy, stuns you for a second. “—you shouldn’t have let me cum inside.”

“Why not?”

You can only guffaw at that. “What? Because you can get pregnant!”

“I’m on the pill! It’s ok!”

Hearing that relieves you, but only slightly. “But—I mean, what if I have an STD?”

“Well, you didn’t give me one the last time. Unless—” her eyes darken, and a shudder runs up your spine, “—you’ve had sex with another girl in the meanwhile?”

“No! I—” you force yourself to pause. Any fear the look on Karina’s face inspires in you isn’t the main issue. “—the point is, you should’ve stopped me first. It’s always better to be safe than—” you’re interrupted by your own grunt in response to Karina’s legs squeezing you, causing your cock to twitch inside her. “—fuck—first of all, let me go.”

At this, she frowns. “No!”

“Karin—”

“Jimin!”

You sigh. “Fine. Jimin, please, let me go.”

“But you’re still so hard! And I’m not satisfied yet!”

You can feel your exhaustion from the refractory period starting to wear off, and you know if you’re still connected to her by the time that expires, that can only spell out more disaster. Glancing at the redness on her breasts, you grimace again. “Jimin, I’m tired. I have to get up early tomorrow for work. Please?”

Thankfully, she relents. You breathe a sigh of relief, extracting yourself from her. As you’re putting your boxers back on, you hear Karina let out a grimace of her own, and in your peripheral vision, you can see why: trickles of your creampie are leaking out her hole.

You avert your eyes before the sight fully stiffens you up again. “You can go clean up in the bathroom.”

“I don’t want to.”

You blink. “What?”

“I don’t want to,” she repeats.

“But—” you stammer for a few seconds, realizing for the umpteenth time that you have no idea how this KPop superstar’s brain works, “—how are you going to get home?”

“But you said it yourself, right? I can’t go home in the middle of the night like this.” You open your mouth to answer, but she intercepts you. “And I can’t ask for an Uber or anything, and asking my manager to come pick me up from here is only admitting that I came here in the middle of the night to have sex with you.”

You grit your teeth. You know she’s right. Just the memory of the fallout from last time makes you want to go crawl in a hole; what’s done is done, so the least you can do is to minimize the chance of this night’s events leaking out to anyone else.

“Fine. I’ll go—” you move to get up but are immediately pulled back down onto the bed.

“Where are you going?”

“Going to sleep on the couch.”

“No! Just sleep here with me.”

You’ve just had sex with her, for God’s sake. You’ve even just cum inside her—hell, your semen is currently still inside her, trickling out of her battered and beaten hole drop by drop, but hearing those words coming out of her mouth causes your face to flush deep red.

“I—…” you can’t formulate a rebuttal, and knowing how stubborn Karina is, you just huff and crawl under the covers. “—fine.”

At this point, you’ve fully recovered, but you can’t let Karina know that. How are you going to be able to sleep with the leader of æspa in the same bed as you? While she’s naked, much less?

“Good night, Jonghyun~”

You let out an embarrassingly feminine squeal when you feel her bountiful bosom pressing against your back. You can feel an erection starting to form again, so you suck in your lips, praying that your racing heart calms down. Her wrapping her arms around your torso doesn’t help, and neither does feeling her soaked groin against your butt.

Damn it. She’s actually spooning you. And damn it, why are you enjoying the feeling of her body curled up against yours so much?

No, this isn’t something you should let yourself indulge in, lest you actually get a wink of sleep. For both your and her, but mostly your, sanity. “Ka—Jimin?”

After a few seconds, “Hm?”

“Can—Can you, um, give me more space?”

“Why?”

“I—” can you even admit why? “It’s a little cramped.”

“But…” you can feel your heart plummeting as you feel her hand snaking its way south. You want to tell her to stop, but it feels as though your throat is suddenly sealed shut. You think about squirming out of Karina’s embrace, but it remains only that: a thought.

Ooh, this isn’t good.

“…you’re so hard.”

The words sensually whispered in your ear in combination with her dainty fingers slipping underneath your boxers and grabbing your now fully erect cock destroy the last semblance of self-control you had been so desperately clinging to.

If she wants me to destroy her pussy and fill her up with cum until the sun rises, who am I to deny her?

Tumblr debut fic, and also first time writing in 2nd person :o

(and also first time writing in present tense)

If you noticed there’s a LOT of setup, that will be a trend for the stuff I write, so hope you’re willing to sit through it! xD

[maxverstappendefender]

ain't no love in oklahoma // op81 smau

description: twisters actress!reader x op81 but lando is convinced oscar is lying (from request)

a/n: sorry for being completely inactive. life happened and it didn't happen in a good way! i have a huge exam coming up soon so i will most likely still be inactive besides maybe a few short things here and there. anyways first oscar fic so enjoy! all pics found on pinterest, i don't own any

a/n pt2: might do something fun for each day in october but im not sure what so send me some ideas. also might do some more headcannons/blurbs soon here!

requests: closed but feel free to send me some messages since i love talking to you guys

masterlist

liked by oscarpiastri, glenpowell, and 2,927,641 others

youruser: go see twisters!! if you don’t, you suck and you better hope you don’t get stuck in a tornado because there’s useful information in our movie

tagged: glenpowell

view all comments

oscarpiastri: proud of you!!

↳ youruser: 🧡

glenpowell: caption is so real of you

user1: doesn’t yn have a boyfriend? why is she so close to glen?

↳ user2: yes but probably because there’s limited space. yn isn’t like that

↳ oscarpiastri: exactly what user2 said

landonorris: cute!

↳ user3: what are you doing here??

↳ user4: lando in the comments?

user5: such a good movie

user6: yn + glen = power duo

liked by youruser, landonorris, and 3,951,750 others

oscarpiastri: proud boyfriend award goes to me 🏆 thx for all the bts selfies

tagged: youruser, glenpowell

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landonorris: i just laughed out loud

landonorris: “boyfriend” lmaooo

↳ user7: i cant tell if he’s joking or serious

user8: cutest couple ever

glenpowell: aww so glad you remembered the time you took me to the aquarium, what a romantic!

↳ youruser: get your own boyfriend capybara

↳ user9: yn CLOCKED him

// lando’s phone//

//

liked by mclaren, oscarpiastri, and 4,027,835 others

landonorris: POLE BABYYYY!!! everyone ignore my teammates instagram posts, i have told him to stop. i think he took a hit to the head or something

view all comments

oscarpiastri: do you want to go to the farm or not?

↳ landonorris: you already said i could go so no take backs

↳ user10: lando is going to yn's farm??

↳ user11: LANDO'S MEETING YN?!

↳ user12: oh i know he's going to fangirl so hard

user13: get me someone who looks at me the way oscar looks at lando

↳ user14: are we sure that they aren't the ones dating?

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris, and 3,017,426 others

youruser: back home finally! pic 1: yeehaw. pic 2: my cat cora had her babies!!! pic 3: dinner date :)

tagged: oscarpiastri

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user15: CORA HAD HER KITTIES

↳ youruser: i am officially a grandma. i feel the gray hairs coming in now

user16: oscar and yn are endgame

oscarpiastri: the best company

↳ landonorris: STOP, idk how you got her in on this joke either

↳ user16: i can't tell if lando knows they are actually dating and is joking or if he truly does not believe oscar

user17: boyfriend is back on the feed!

↳ user18: farmer yn is back on the feed!

glenpowell: miss you lady

↳ youruser: you miss my animals more

↳ glenpowell: and what about it.

liked by youruser, oscarpiastri, and 4,209,384 others

landonorris: OMG HE WASN'T LYING i got to feed so many animals, got to channel my inner cowboy, AND get drunk with the yn? i can die a happy man

tagged: youruser

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oscarpiastri: believe me now?

↳ landonorris: never doubted you

↳ user19: lando seriously didn't believe oscar lol

↳ user20: i fully thought he was joking the entire time

user21: how hard did you fangirl to meet yn, lando?

↳ landonorris: surprised i didn't pass out honestly. i facetimed GLEN POWELL

youruser: so glad you had a fun time!!

liked by youruser, landonorris, and 3,298,361 others

oscarpiastri: everyone clear that this is my girlfriend?

tagged: youruser

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user22: sassy oscar

↳ user23: channeling his inner lando

landonorris: yes sir 🫡

↳ oscarpiastri: stop being weird ?

youruser: MY MANNNNN

↳ user24: oh she's in deep

user25: there is one thing oscar doesn't play about in life: yn

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris, and 4,208,763 others

youruser: didn't even know there was confusion that this was my boyfriend lol

tagged: oscarpiastri

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landonorris: how was i meant to know?!

↳ user26: literally how everyone else knew, instagram.

glenpowell: yn stop posting pics of me and my boyfriend and acting like he's yours

↳ youruser: i dont like this joke.

↳ oscarpiastri: bromance or whatever

↳ user27: they're in a throuple

↳ youruser: ew

↳ glenpowell: disgusting

↳ oscarpiastri: huhhh

user28: couple goals forever and ever

user29: if they don't get married... love isn't real

[pucksandpower]

Hi!! I always see fics of Charles being the one who isn’t believed he’s in a relationship (and i eat it all up cause it’s such a fun trope 😌) but what if it’s the reader’s turn. Like she’s a normal university student who always talks about her boyfriend but her friends and her fellow students just don’t believe her so Charles decides to surprise her and just be the proof. Thanks in advance!!

Daydream

Charles Leclerc x engineering student!Reader

Summary: You are living the dream … except no one actually believes that your boyfriend is really your boyfriend

You walk into class after the winter break with a sun-kissed glow and a new watch on your wrist.

Your friend Matteo notices it immediately and lets out a low whistle.

“Wow, that has to be the most realistic looking fake I’ve ever seen! Where did you get it?” He asks with a grin.

You roll your eyes but smile back. “It’s not a fake. Charles gave it to me for Christmas.”

Your friends barely give you a chance to get the last word out before they burst out laughing. You feel your cheeks flush in embarrassment and annoyance.

“Oh sure, I’m certain that your very real boyfriend, Charles Leclerc the Formula 1 driver, just happened to give you a €340,000 Richard Mille for Christmas,” your other friend Livia jokes.

“Come on guys, I’m serious! Charles and I have been dating for months now. We met when I was interning with Ferrari last year,” you insist.

But your friends just keep chuckling and shaking their heads in disbelief.

“If you were really dating an F1 driver, you would be posting cute couple-y pics all over Instagram. There’s no way anyone in that position could resist showing off a little,” Matteo argues.

You let out an exasperated sigh. You and Charles agreed to keep your relationship out of the public eye for now to avoid media scrutiny. But your friends just see this as further proof that you’re making it all up.

“Maybe he’s embarrassed to be seen with an engineering student,” Livia quips.

That stings a bit, even though you know she doesn’t mean for it to.

You slump down in your chair, absentmindedly fiddling with the exquisite watch on your wrist. You hadn’t realized it was worth so much when Charles gave it to you. The way his eyes lit up when you unwrapped it on Christmas morning was priceless. He was so excited to spoil you in any way he could. And now your friends think it’s just a cheap fake.

Charles is always doing ridiculously romantic things like flying you out on a private jet just so you can spend any free weekends together and sending you bouquets of roses bigger than you are. But no one believes that he’s really your boyfriend. To them, it’s all just part of an elaborate scheme you’ve concocted.

You met Charles when you were one of ten engineering graduate students selected for a prestigious internship with Scuderia Ferrari. You spent six months working in Maranello, learning from some of motorsport’s brightest minds.

Charles took an interest in you immediately. He would come by your workstation in the aerodynamics lab, peppering you with thoughtful questions about your projects. You would discuss aerodynamic principles and simulations for hours. Even ex-team principal Mattia Binotto said the two of you had a visible “synergy.”

Your internship had since ended but your relationship with Charles continued. You tried to play it cool at first, not wanting to seem overly eager. The day after you went back to study in Milan, he asked you out to dinner. Your first date lasted five hours as you talked endlessly about everything under the sun. You were amazed at how you never ran out of things to discuss.

Over the next few months, you grew closer and closer. Charles would take weekend trips to Milan just to see you, even if it was only for a few hours. He told you that you grounded him and reminded him that there was more to life than racing.

When he asked you to be his girlfriend after inviting you to the Monaco Grand Prix, you were shocked but ecstatic. You knew then that your hectic schedules won’t make it easy but Charles is unlike anyone you’ve ever known. He makes your heart race faster than a V12 engine.

You’re shaken from your reminiscing as Matteo waves a hand in front of your face. “Earth to Y/N! Come on, tell us where you got the watch. I want to get one too! It looks so identical to the real thing that we could probably sell it to some suckers on eBay.”

You shake your head with a huff. “Forget it, I’ll tell you all about my ‘fake’ boyfriend another time.”

For now, you’re just counting down the days until you can see Charles again.

No matter what anyone else may think, the two of you know that your love is real.

***

You’re humming along to your playlist as you drive Charles’ Purosangue on the winding roads leading to Milan. The SUV handles like a dream and you’re thoroughly enjoying the feeling of having 715 horsepower under your feet.

Your own trusty Fiat had broken down while visiting Charles in Monaco over the weekend. He insisted you take the Purosangue for the almost four hour drive back rather than waiting for a rental. You tried to decline at first, anxious about driving such an expensive vehicle. But Charles wouldn’t take no for an answer.

“I don’t like the idea of you driving all that way alone in some random rental car,” he argued. “This will be much safer and more comfortable for you, mon amour.”

You finally relented, unable to resist when he turned on the charm. Charles gave you a lengthy tutorial of all the car’s features before sending you off with a lengthy kiss and plans for your next visit.

As you pull into the Politecnico di Milano parking lot, you realize just what a scene you’re about to cause. The other students are used to seeing you in your almost ten-year-old Fiat, not a glittering metallic Ferrari.

Sure enough, jaws drop and whispers follow you as you step out of the driver’s seat. Matteo quickly spots you from across the lot and comes jogging over eagerly.

“No way! Is that ... is that a Purosangue?” He gapes. “What are you doing with that?”

“Funny story actually. My car broke down when I was visiting Charles in Monaco last weekend. So he let me borrow this while mine is in the shop.”

Matteo stares at you blankly. “Visiting Charles ... in Monaco?” He throws his head back and laughs. “Your dedication to this bit is honestly impressive, Y/N. But there’s no way that the Charles Leclerc just gave you his Ferrari to drive back to Milan.”

You sigh but you’re determined not to let Matteo get under your skin this time. “Believe what you want. But I had an amazing weekend with my boyfriend before heading back to reality today.”

You head into class, Matteo trailing behind you, still shaking his head in disbelief. Livia immediately jumps up when she sees you.

“Shut up, is that really a Ferrari outside?” She gasps. You nod nonchalantly and take your seat.

“Y/N here is trying to convince us that her boyfriend let her borrow it over the weekend,” Matteo says with an exaggerated eye roll.

“You do realize those start at €390,000 right?” Livia says. “Why on earth would Charles Leclerc of all people let you drive his brand new ultra luxury SUV around?”

You throw your up hands in indignation. “Maybe because he’s my boyfriend and he wanted to help me out! Why is that so hard for you guys to believe?”

But instead of listening to you, other classmates join the conversation and chime in with their own theories about why you suddenly have a Ferrari.

“Maybe she rented it to play a prank on everyone,” suggests Liam.

“No way,” Eva argues. “Maybe she got a big inheritance? Some distant rich relative died and left their fortune to Y/N?”

You groan internally. But before you can respond, your professor walks in and instructs everyone to take their seats.

Through the lecture, you catch people whispering and pointing discreetly at you. By the time class ends, you just want to go home and video chat with Charles about your frustrating day.

As you pack up your things, Livia comes over. “So have you thought about what you’ll tell people when they see you getting out of that Ferrari for the foreseeable future?” She asks.

You blink at her. “The truth? That Charles loaned it to me while my car is in the shop,” you say slowly.

She pats your shoulder. “Come on Y/N, the joke was funny at first but now it’s just getting sad. No one actually believes that you’re dating Charles Leclerc and driving his cars around. Just tell us where you really got it so we can all move on from this weird fantasy life you’ve constructed.”

You stand up abruptly, shoving your notebook in your bag. “It’s not a fantasy,” you spit sharply. “It’s my real life and I’m sorry you can’t accept that. But I don’t need to convince you or anyone else.”

You storm out of the classroom, blinking back frustrated tears.

Pulling out your phone, you text Charles.

I miss you. My friends still think I’m making this all up. I can’t wait to see you in Spain next race.

Charles texts back immediately.

Not as much as I miss you. Don’t worry about what other people think, we know our love is real.

And you looked so hot driving my car 😉

You smile down at your phone, comforted by his words. You may never get your friends and classmates to believe your relationship, but as long as you and Charles know the truth, that’s all that truly matters.

Sliding back behind the wheel of the shiny Ferrari, you feel your stress melt away. Who cares what anyone thinks? You have an amazing boyfriend who trusts you with his most prized possessions. And someday when you and Charles are ready to share your love with the world, everyone’s jaws will drop in disbelief.

For now, you’ll just enjoy the ride.

***

It’s nearly time for summer break and you’re sitting outside with Matteo, Livia, and some other friends, soaking up the sunshine.

“We should all go backpacking around the Greek islands in August!” Suggests Livia. “We could start in Athens, then ferry to Mykonos, Santorini, and end in Crete. Who’s in?”

Everyone voices their enthusiasm for the idea. Then Matteo turns to you. “How about it, Y/N? Take a break from your ‘boyfriend’ and come adventuring with us common folk.”

You take a deep breath and stir your coffee, debating on how to break the news. “That sounds amazing but I already have plans for the summer.”

“Oh yeah? Going home to see your family?” Matteo asks.

You take a deep breath. “Actually, Charles and I are going on a vacation for a few weeks.”

Your friends erupt into laughter.

“A holiday? With Charles Leclerc?” Livia giggles. “Girl, your fantasies are really taking off lately!”

You frown in annoyance. “I’m serious. Charles chartered a yacht and everything. I wish you could see how excited he is for our first big trip together. He’s been planning it for months.”

Livia pats your hand gently. “Sweetie, we know you’re probably feeling financial pressure with school and all. You don’t have to lie about going off on some glamorous vacation. If you can’t afford to join us in Greece, just say so.”

You stare at her in disbelief. “This isn’t about money. Charles and I have been looking forward to this since the start of the season! I’m sorry that our relationship is still so unbelievable to you.”

Your aggravation must show on your face because Matteo holds up his hands appeasingly. “Look, I’m sure whatever you end up doing this summer will be great. But clearly this whole Charles charade has gone too far. It’s time to come clean.”

You stand up abruptly, grabbing your things. “I don’t need to come clean about anything. My relationship with Charles is real, whether you choose to believe it or not.”

You storm off fuming. Your friends’ outright refusal to even entertain the notion that you could be dating Charles is so patronizing and demeaning. Do they really think so little of you?

That night, you vent to Charles over FaceTime about the conversation.

“I just don’t get why it’s so hard for them to believe me! I know we’re not exactly a super conventional couple but it’s like they think I’m delusional,” you sigh.

Charles gives you a sympathetic smile. “I’m sorry they’re being like this, mon cœur. But try not to let it upset you too much. We know the truth about our love. That’s what matters.”

You nod, cheered as always by his encouragement. “You’re right. I’m just so excited for our trip! Sailing around the Mediterranean with you all to myself? It’s going to be a dream.”

Charles grins. “Oh I can’t wait either. The yacht has a hot tub on deck under the stars. I want to make sure it’s just as magical as you deserve.”

You spend the rest of the call discussing your vacation itinerary and plans for when your families will join you in Sardinia.

Charles reassures you again not to worry about what others think.

“Soon we’ll share our love with the world. But for now, let’s just focus on us,” he says softly.

By the time you hang up, your frustration has faded. Matteo and Livia may not believe you but in a few short weeks you’ll be cruising the bright blue Mediterranean with the man of your dreams.

The day finally comes for your trip to begin. As Charles helps you aboard the sleek yacht, you forget all about your friends. They don’t know him like you do. And they definitely don’t know how he kisses you goodbye at the airport or the special way his eyes light up when he says “I love you.”

This vacation will be everything you’ve been dreaming of. And you know Charles will do whatever it takes to make it unforgettable.

As the yacht pulls away from the marina, the only thing on your mind is the blissful weeks ahead with your love. Everything else fades blissfully into the background.

***

You walk with the group of engineering students through the halls of Maranello, thrilled to be back at the Ferrari factory. You did your internship here last year but walking around still feels surreal.

As you pass the simulator room, you hear someone call your name.

“Y/N! Hold on a second!”

You turn and see Gianni, one of the simulator engineers you befriended during your internship. He jogs over holding a sleek black ring.

“Charles left this after his session the other day,” he presses the familiar band into your palm. “Can you get it back to him?” Gianni asks.

You grin, turning the ring over in your hands. Charles hates taking off his Oura fitness tracker but has to for simulator runs.

“Of course, I’ll give it back to him when I’m in Monaco.”

You turn back to your friends, expecting this to be the final push they need to believe you.

But Livia just rolls her eyes. “Come on Y/N, he is obviously in on this whole charade. I bet you convinced him to play along!”

The other students nod, chuckling. Your smile disappears.

“What? No, Gianni and I really worked together when I interned here! This isn’t some weird prank,” you insist.

Matteo pats your shoulder condescendingly. “It’s alright, you don’t have to keep pretending with us. We get it, you want people to think you’re dating Charles Leclerc. But it’s getting kind of sad now.”

You clench your fists in frustration as the group moves on. Why are they being so stubborn? You clearly know people here and have a real connection to Charles.

When you pass the aerodynamics lab, your mood lifts a bit. Your favorite team leader, Fabio, is there working on computational fluid dynamics simulations.

“Y/N! So great to see you back here!” He greets you warmly and pulls you into a friendly hug.

You chat with him for a few minutes, explaining about the visit. As you say goodbye, he adds, “Tell Charles I said hi when you see him this weekend!”

But Matteo just scoffs as you walk away. “Let me guess — he’s in on it too?”

You don’t even bother responding this time, too irritated. Why should you have to convince your so-called friends of anything? You don’t owe them proof when they’re clearly set on ignoring it.

As the tour concludes, Livia pulls you aside, her expression serious.

“Look Y/N, we’re a bit worried about you. All these stories ... it just seems unhealthy. We think you should talk to someone,” she says gently.

You gape at her. “Unhealthy? Because I mentioned my boyfriend a few times on a trip to his workplace? You guys are unbelievable.”

Livia frowns. “Come on, it’s more than that and you know it. The jewelry, the car, the traveling ... it’s all an elaborate fantasy life. We just want what’s best for you.”

You feel anger bubbling up inside you. Livia reaches for your arm but you jerk away.

“You want what’s best for me? Then start believing me! I love Charles and he loves me. I don’t need therapy just because you refuse to accept the facts,” you snap.

Livia looks taken aback. You don’t wait for her response, just turn on your heel and stalk away fuming.

You pull out your phone and call Charles, needing to vent. When he picks up, the sound of his voice instantly calms you.

Charles listens patiently as you recount the horrible field trip. “I’m so sorry they’re being like this, ma belle,” he soothes. “But you handled it well. Don’t let them make you question yourself.”

You sigh. “I just wish they could see how happy you make me. I hate that our love seems so unbelievable.”

“It’s their loss for not seeing what we have,” Charles replies. “Soon everyone will realize that I only have eyes for you.”

You chat for a while longer, feeling reassured. Your friends’ doubt used to make you sad but now it mostly just angers you.

You know the truth. This weekend when you fly to Monaco and fall asleep in Charles’ arms, what Matteo and Livia think won’t matter one bit.

The only thing that matters is the love between you and Charles.

And one day, both of you will make sure the whole world knows that it’s as real as it gets.

***

It’s Friday morning and you’re stuck in your Principles of Advanced Aerodynamics lecture, anxiously watching the clock.

The Italian Grand Prix weekend starts today but your professor refused to excuse you from class early. Which means you’re missing out on precious hours with Charles before free practice later today.

You resigned yourself to not seeing him until tonight when the classroom door bursts open.

And there stands Charles, looking unfairly handsome in a Ferrari branded polo and jeans.

“Sorry to interrupt professor,” Charles flashes a charming grin. “But I’m going to need to steal Y/N away for the weekend.”

He shoots you a playful wink and your heart melts.

Your classmates erupt in excited whispers as they realize that the Charles Leclerc is standing in front of them. Your professor’s lips are moving but no discernible sound comes out.

The professor struggles to find words for a moment. “You’re ... you’re Charles Leclerc!” He stammers.

Charles smiles humbly. “Yes sir. And as I’m sure you know, the free practice for the Italian Grand Prix starts today. I’ll need to have my good luck charm there with from the very start.”

He extends his hand to you.

You grab your bag, legs wobbling as you make your way to the front. Charles wraps a supportive arm around your waist.

“You see professor, Y/N is my biggest supporter. My results improve dramatically when she’s present. So surely any Ferrari fan would agree that she must be trackside all weekend?” Charles urges charmingly.

The professor nods mutely before seeming to find his voice again. “Yes, of course! We certainly want the best results for Ferrari here at home. Y/N, you’re excused for the day. If you give me just a moment ...” He rummages through his bag with shaking hands and pulls out a Ferrari phone case.

“Would you mind?” He asks sheepishly.

“Not at all,” Charles smiles, taking the case and scrawling his signature across it with a provided permanent marker.

Your professor looks ready to faint. “Thank you so much. Enjoy the race weekend. Forza Ferrari, sempre!”

Trying not to laugh, you quickly gather up the rest of your things. Your friends watch wide-eyed as Charles takes your hand.

“Ready, mon amour?” He asks.

When you nod, he sweeps you into his arms and kisses you passionately in front of the entire class.

“I missed you,” he murmurs against your lips.

You cling to him, dizzy from the kiss. “Not as much as I missed you. I can’t believe you came here just to pick me up.”

Charles caresses your cheek. “I’ll always come for you. Now let’s get going to Monza. I want to show you how much I appreciated your good luck texts before practice.”

He keeps your hand clasped firmly in his as you make your way outside. When you glance back through the windows, your classmates are still staring after you in stunned disbelief.

Once you’re in the familiar 488 Pista, you finally let out the laugh you’ve been suppressing. “Did you see the looks on everyone’s faces? I thought Professor Mancini was actually going to faint.”

Charles grins. “I know dramatic gestures aren’t usually my style but I wanted them to see once and for all that you’re mine.”

He lifts your intertwined hands to his lips. “No more doubting our love after today. And I meant what I said — you’re my good luck charm, Y/N. Having you here this weekend means everything.”

You smile up at him softly. “I’m just happy I can be here to support you.”

He kisses you deeply, still parked outside of the Politecnico, not caring who sees. And you know without a doubt that this amazing man and your once-in-a-lifetime romance are completely real.

The rest of the day flies by in a blur of excitement. In between practice sessions, Charles takes any chance he can to steal moments alone with you in his driver’s room.

His tender kisses and whispered reminders of his love send your heart racing faster than an F1 car.

***

It’s race day in Monza and you’re walking through the paddock hand-in-hand with Charles. His physio and press officer trail behind you both as Charles waves to the cheering Tifosi in the stands.

Suddenly, you hear voices calling your name.

You look over to see Matteo and Livia leaning over the fence, trying to get your attention.

“Y/N! We’re so sorry we didn’t believe you!” Livia shouts.

“Please come talk to us!” Yells Matteo. “We feel awful about everything!”

You stop short, conflicting emotions swirling through you. Charles senses your hesitation and squeezes your hand supportively.

“What do you want to do, mon cœur?” He asks. “I can try to get them paddock passes last minute if you want to talk.”

You bite your lip. Part of you wants them to witness first-hand the depth of your relationship with Charles. To show them just how wrong they were to mock and belittle your love.

But another part of you is still hurt by their stubborn refusal to believe you all this time. Do they really deserve VIP paddock access after the way they treated you?

“I don’t know, Charles ... they were so patronizing about our relationship for so long. I’m not sure they deserve the reward of paddock access after demeaning my feelings,” you reply.

Charles nods thoughtfully. “I understand. It’s completely up to you, of course. But it could be nice for them to see up close just how real our love is. Watching us together will help it finally sink in.”

You feel a smile tugging at your lips. Charles does make an appealing case ...

“Alright, I can’t say no to that adorable face,” you laugh and kiss his cheek. “But maybe keep them waiting a bit first as payback!”

Charles grins mischievously. “I think that can be arranged.” He pulls you in for a passionate kiss, dipping you backwards dramatically.

The crowd erupts in cheers and whistles, a wild and beautiful sea of Rosso Corsa.

When you come up for air, you see your friends watching open-mouthed from the stands. Charles winks at them over your shoulder before leading you away, his arm curled firmly around your waist.

Several hours later, Matteo and Livia finally receive their paddock passes. They rush over to you right away, profusely apologizing again.

“Seeing you and Charles together in class was unbelievable, but this ...” Matteo trails off, darting around at the bustling paddock with wide eyes. “You really are dating an F1 driver!”

You exchange an amused look with Charles. “Yes, that is what I’ve been trying to tell you for many months now,” you laugh.

Livia hugs you tightly. “I’m so sorry for ever doubting you. But after today, we’ll never question your relationship again.”

Charles wraps an arm around your shoulder. “I hope after witnessing our love up close, you will see there is nothing Y/N wouldn’t do for me, just as I would do the same for her.” He gazes down at you tenderly and you feel your heart skip a beat.

You and Charles both laugh as your friends turn red. “We’re really happy for you two,” mumbles Matteo. “Hopefully we can all start over now.”

Charles smiles kindly. “Of course! Y/N’s happiness is what matters most to me and I know how important her friends are to her.”

You feel yourself falling even more in love with this man and his endless patience and compassion.

The race keeps you on the edge of your seat from start to finish. When Charles takes the top step on the podium, you and your friends scream loudly enough to be heard in Milan.

That night at the celebration, Charles gives a sweet toast about how your love inspires him.

Matteo and Livia watch with tears in their eyes.

“Wow, when you said your boyfriend was romantic, you really meant it,” Livia whispers.

“I told you, Charles is one-of-a-kind. I’m so lucky to be his and to be loved by him.”

Charles comes over and pulls you into his arms, nuzzling your hair. “I’m the lucky one, mon ange.”

He stops and takes both of your hands, gazing into your eyes intently. “I never want you to doubt what we have, Y/N. You are everything to me. My whole world.”

Matteo shakes his head in wonder as he takes in the pure love clearly shining in both of your eyes. “We’re so sorry we ever doubted that what you have is real. Seeing you together, it’s obvious your love is straight out of a fairytale.”

You grin up at Charles, your heart overflowing. With his kisses still lingering on your lips and surrounded by friends who finally believe, you feel like the luckiest girl in the world.

Now everyone can see your love just as clearly as the two of you always have.

***

Today is the day you’ve been working towards for years — your graduation from the Politecnico di Milano with your Laurea Magistrale in Aeronautical Engineering.

The auditorium is packed with proud families as you line up with your classmates, dressed in formal robes and caps. Charles insisted on coming, despite it being right before the start of a triple header. And having him here means the world to you.

When your name is called, you grin widely as Charles’ cheers rise above the polite applause of the audience. He gives you a standing ovation, not caring that he is blocking everyone’s view.

His pride and support brings happy tears to your eyes. You blow him a discreet kiss and see him pretend to catch it, pressing his hand to his heart.

After the ceremony ends, you rush straight into Charles’ arms. He swings you around then kisses you deeply. “I’m so proud of you, mon amour! All of your hard work has paid off.”

You hug him tight, overwhelmed with emotions. “Having you here today, supporting me every step ... it’s the best gift I could ask for.”

Charles strokes your hair tenderly. “I wouldn’t have missed this for anything. But I do have one more surprise ...”

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out an envelope with the unmistakable Ferrari seal.

Handing it to you, Charles bounces excitedly on his toes. “Go on, open it!”

With shaking hands, you open the letter and read the words offering you a position as a Junior Aerodynamics Engineer with Scuderia Ferrari.

“Charles, what ... how ...” you stammer in shock.

He smiles widely. “Enrico Cardile was very impressed with the work you did during your internship as well as your thesis.”

You continue staring at the letter. “But I don’t want special treatment just because I’m your girlfriend. I want to earn a position at Ferrari on my own merits,” you say uncertainly.

Charles grasps your hands. “Mon ange, you know I would never influence the team’s decisions. They want you because of your skills, not our relationship. I only asked if I could deliver the news as a graduation gift when I found out.”

You bite your lip. “It’s just ... I don’t want anyone thinking that I didn’t earn this.”

“Listen to me,” Charles quickly gets serious. “You are the most talented, driven, and intelligent person I know. You’ve worked relentlessly for this and Ferrari recognizes that. Please don’t doubt for one second that you deserve this.”

His sincere words dissolve your concerns. He’s right — you interned successfully with the team already. You can do this.

You throw your arms around him again. “Then I accept the offer! I’m going to be a Formula 1 aerodynamicist!”

“You will be incredible, Y/N. I can’t wait to see you thriving there. You’re going to change the world with that beautiful mind of yours.”

You cling to him, overwhelmed with emotions. “I couldn’t have done any of this without your love and support. You gave me the strength to keep pursuing my dreams.”

Charles tips your forehead to his, eyes shining. “And you gave me the gift of true love. My life is so much richer with you in it.”

He kisses you until you’re both smiling too widely to continue. Taking his hand, you turn to look out at the gathered families, classmates, and professors mingling around.

Just months ago, no one believed your relationship with Charles was real. But here you stand, ready to take on the world together.

Your storybook romance has grown into an unshakable partnership.

As Charles squeezes your hand, you know that the next chapter of your lives will be even better. You can’t wait to build your future with this amazing man — both on and off the track.

***

10 years later

You take a deep breath as you walk into the familiar lecture hall at the Politecnico di Milano. Looking out at the eager young students, you remember sitting in their place not so long ago. Back when you were just starting your engineering studies, never dreaming you would one day return as a guest lecturer.

Charles insisted on coming with you today and you scan the room until you spot him sitting inconspicuously in the back row, trying his hardest not to draw attention to himself. He gives you an encouraging thumbs up.

“Good morning, everyone. For those who don’t know me, I am Y/N Leclerc — Head of Aero Development at Scuderia Ferrari and former student right here at Polimi.”

As you start your lecture on the aerodynamic theory behind Ferrari’s latest championship-winning car, you easily slip back into the familiar rhythms of university life.

Discussing complex simulations and wind tunnel testing with these eager minds reminds you of the days you were in their shoes.

You can hardly believe it’s been 10 years since you sat in this very room, never imagining the incredible journey ahead.

After joining Ferrari, you and Charles found ways to balance your personal and professional lives through compassion and communication.

Winning your first World Championship together was a euphoric blur of champagne and ecstatic team celebrations. Being the first female Director of Aerodynamics in Formula 1 was daunting but Charles never stopped believing in you.

When he got down on one knee after winning in Monza and asked you to be his wife, it was one of the happiest moments of your life. Planning a wedding while chasing championships was no easy feat but your passion for racing and each other kept you going.

Now, five championships later, you’ve settled into a blissful rhythm as partners both on and off the track. There were tough times and painful losses but coming home to each other’s arms helped erase the remnants of any bad day.

As you wrap up the lecture and open the floor to questions, a female student raises her hand. “As a woman working in F1, what’s the best advice you can give aspiring engineers like me?”

You smile, thinking back on your own self-doubts starting out. “Don’t be afraid to take up space and make your voice heard,” you tell her. “Formula 1 needs more brilliant women like you. If you love the science and the cars, pursue this career fiercely no matter what anyone says.”

The student thanks you excitedly and you make a mental note to talk to Charles about establishing an engineering scholarship for female students.

After the lecture finishes, Charles comes up to greet you with a tender kiss. “You were incredible up there. I’m so proud to call you my wife.”

You kiss him back, still just as dizzyingly in love as that first date all those years ago. “I couldn’t have done it without my biggest cheerleader here supporting me.”

As you walk hand-in-hand back to the car, you think about how far you’ve come together.

A storybook romance, successful careers, and most importantly, an unbreakable partnership built on love and trust.

When Charles said your love would overcome any doubt, you never imagined how right he would be.

But now, as the Italian sunlight glints off your matching wedding bands, you know the best is still yet to come.

[princessbellecerise]

Unexpected

──── ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧ ────

summary | In which you take control on your wedding night

warnings | smut, oral (m. and f. receiving), f!dominate

this fic is eighteen plus. minors please do not enter

divider by @princessbellecerise

Jacaerys Velaryon

When Jacaerys is first introduced to you, he thinks the absolute world of you

He adores you and believes you to be the epitome of a lady with your sweet smile and giggles that melt his heart

Absolutely nothing, nothing could have prepared the prince for your wedding night, when all of a sudden your innocent act is dropped and Jacaerys gets to see the real you, the one you’ve been dying to show him ever since your marriage was announced

And as soon as you get the prince alone, you pounce

Jacaerys had the entire room set up for the two of you and he even called off the bedding ceremony, thinking that someone as innocent as you should have privacy for their first time

Little did he know though, you were anything but innocent though you did still appreciate the gesture

You weren’t exactly as…pure as a lady should have been, and it was evident in the way you jumped on your new husband and immediately got to work

Hot, heavy kisses that you initiate nearly have Jace fainting on the spot, shocked when you take control and seemingly know exactly what to do

You’re shedding your clothes in no time, and along the way you’re barking out orders for Jace to undress, to touch you in places only a husband should, and the prince is so stunned that he can’t even react

His thoughts of you being this shy, innocent girl are immediately shattered the minute you wrap your mouth around him, pleasing him like a professional which has Jace moaning in no time

You love the way his face scrunches up, a mixture of confusion and desire clouding his features as you go down on him

You can tell your dominance and knowledge on what exactly to do in the bedroom shocks the hell out him, but honestly Jacaerys isn’t complaining

He quickly finds himself fascinated with you all over again, looking at you with stars in his eyes when he cums and you swallow every last drop

And as if the sight of you swallowing his seed wasn’t enough to rile him up again, Jace quickly becomes hard when you grab his cock and whisper how much you can’t wait to ride him

You take the poor, flustered prince’s hand and swipe his fingers between your folds, showing him how wet you are for him and Jace swears he’s in heaven

He’s not sure how the hell he completely missed this side of his new wife, but he’s certainly not complaining—not one bit

Lucerys Velaryon

Poor baby Luke is absolutely TERRIFIED for your wedding night and most of all he’s terrified of not being able to please you, his new wife

We all know he has severe anxiety so despite reading up on the topic of coupling and having one very long, very painful talk with Daemon before the wedding, Luke is still very much anxious and honestly has no clue what to do

You’re a couple years older than him which only makes his desire to please you even greater

He hypes himself up, gets a pep talk from Jace…and it turns out that Luke needs none of it because you’re on him the minute the bedroom door shuts

There is no bedding ceremony and no witness so you’re free to let loose and have fun with your new husband, who completely freezes when you pull him into kiss and press your (barely clothed) body against his

Poor Luke—all that stressing and he’s got absolutely nothing to worry about because you take reigns, talking him up and guiding him to do exactly what he wanted to do

He can’t lie, he’s a little shocked that you’re so good at this and it’s obviously not the first time you’ve done this. But honestly, Luke is just so relieved that one of you knows what you’re doing that he doesn’t even care. He just relaxes like you tell him to and enjoys the ride—literally

Poor boys is redder than a tomato when you first get naked for him, showing him your body and teasing the young prince

He’s a stuttering mess when your hands get to work undressing him, trying to form a coherent sentence but he can’t because he’s too excited and too nervous

He only nods and does the things you ask without question, but you can tell he’s absolutely losing it by the way he moans and turns to putty under your touch

You think it’s cute really to see him so eager to be with you, and Luke is such a sweetheart that he stops you from going down on his and offers to get you off instead

You’re so touched because even the older men you’ve been with have never been as gentle and kind as Luke. And with a little guidance, the young prince blows you away by exceeding your expectations

You never in a million years expected to come from just his tongue alone, but when you do, you’re shook to your core

And Lucerys (when he finally comes up for air) is looking at you with worried eyes wondering if he’s done something wrong, not knowing that he’s the first ever to make you orgasm

And just for that, you decide to finally give your husband the night of his life

Thanks to his tongue, it’s easy to slide yourself down onto his cock, smiling when the young prince can’t contain himself

He nearly dies and goes to heaven when you start riding him, and you know he’s not going to last long so you savor his sweet face and whisper in his ear how lucky you are to be married to him—and you’d be willing to bet anything that Lucerys absolutely feels the same

[chilschuck]

So... How about Laios x a dragonkin reader? (Specifically an ice dragon, they just look so fluffy!!)

I can imagine having sections of her body covered in soft feathers! Something like Falin at the end of the manga. I also think her body runs on the colder side of things, you know? For one reason she's partially covered in feathers. So I imagine her being quite affectionate, the warmth that others radiate is just something she can't deny!

I can picture Laios basically vibrating with excitement as he asks questions about her and her body, and, can you llame him? Come on! She is half dragon! How could he pass up this opportunity!?

And before any of the party (Marcille) can stop him or say something, she accepts perhaps too calmly (I can hear the "HUH?" from Marcille rn)

Laios' enthusiasm is like that of a child at Christmas as he asks questions and lets his hands explore his feather-covered wings. He compares and looks for the less noticeable differences between her and a real dragon, measuring her saw-sharp teeth and making comments without any shame, while reader just sits, answering the questions that she can answer, looking happier than she should.

`✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹ WAHHH THIS IS SUCH A CUTE REQUEST and i hope i did it justice!!! i did some headcanons but writing a piece for this one day would be sooo fun!! i hope this is close to what you were thinking!!!!

— LAIOS x ice dragonkin!reader.

꒰ rating: ꒱ sfw fluff! gn!reader.

꒰ wc: ꒱ 365

✦ i’m fighting off allergies and brainfog so i apologize if this is incoherent at all, lol. if you’d like a drabble, feel free to submit something again and i’d love to do another dragonkin!reader piece for you!! hope you enjoy! <3

✦ Laios is instantly drawn to you. This isn’t surprising considering his fascination with monsters, but it doesn’t help that you’re cute, too. Don’t even get him started on how sweet you look with all those feathers. And if you let him run his fingers through them, you’d see his face light up so brightly with delight!

✦ You aren’t naturally very warm, so you’ve found yourself sneaking into Laios’ bedroll and nuzzling into his side. Laios doesn’t mind this at all, and even encourages you to take all the warmth from him you need. (As long as you answer some of his ramblings!)

✦ Laios is extremely excited when you first meet, eyes filled with wonder and chest giddy with curiosity. Expect him to start babbling out questions and watching you closely. “Wow… Look at those feathers!” or “Is it okay if I touch your wings?” will definitely be said a bit too loudly as he’s basically vibrating on the spot. Before Marcille can reel him back in, to her bewilderment you give a sweet nod and a calming smile. (I think she just about falls over from that.)

✦ When he finally does get to feel your wings under his palms, he’s so enchanted he could implode. This was an opportunity he may never get again, so best believe he’s going to take full advantage of it!

✦ “So this is different from others I’ve seen. Interesting…” he mumbles to himself. “Can I see how sharp your teeth are?” You hum, opening your mouth to bare your fangs and he’s taking and comparing notes in that head of his.

✦ You’re probably a bit too happy to be dealing with something like this. The others wonder if and when your patience for his questions will run out, but they watch as you beam right back at him. (And there he goes, enamored by your fangs again.)

✦ Laios is very determined to make sure your needs are met. Is what you’re eating fitting to your natural diet? Are your wings in need of stretching? Are you able to get enough warmth? It honestly makes you giggle a bit. You’ve never had someone so interested in your wellbeing. It feels nice.

[serosluv2]

obsessed bf x pretty gf trope hcs w sero & shoto pls & ty 😁😁 (seperately pls)

It’s only 7 months late but here u go anon 😘

a/n: I wrote this in an hour in the bathtub so if it is shit- don’t tell me bc I’m just getting back into writing 😭😭

Shoto Todoroki

He fits this trope so well.

He is THEE resident pretty boy of UA so it makes perfect sense that he has the prettiest girl in all of Japan. (The world)

He is the teeny weeny ist bit dense on like how to take proper photos of you for the ‘gram but trust that he WILL be searching up everything about lighting and angles and exposure and zoom- all that nonsense.

If you’re a social media girly he may leave like one or two comments. He isn’t the best about being outwardly obsessed with you, he is all about those private small moments. Not being able to take his eyes off you anywhere. Always needing to be beside you. If he can’t be with you then trust he is texting you at every free moment and expects a response within 5 minutes.

He loves shopping with you and helping you pick out outfits or jewelry or how to style your makeup that day. He has no real opinion on what looks better tho he just loves seeing you get all prettied up. (Yk that tiktok where the girl is trying to decide on a dress color and her bf is just like “wtv u want mama u look breathtaking in both” ?That’s him.)

I feel like he doesn’t really buy you anything in the beginning of your relationship bc he doesn’t really see the point/value or something in that BUT all it takes is for kaminari to get you some product you’ve been wanting for a while for secret santa and seeing how touched you were by the gesture sends him into over drive:

“OH MY GOD! KAMI!!” You exclaim- wrapping your arms around him. “How did you know? I’ve been looking for this everywhere!” Shoto notices how big your eyes got and the slight blush on your cheeks from excitement and he feels, something unpleasant. Jealousy? Envy? Possessiveness? Whatever it is he doesn’t like how grateful you’re acting toward the blonde. I mean sure, he got you something nice you’ve wanted but that’s not his job (he just so happened to get you for secret santa so he kind of had to get you something) he’s not your boyfriend only your boyfriend- HIM- should be gifting you stuff. Then he kinda has a “ohh.” Moment and realizes he has never really gotten you anything just because.

Anyways after that whole interaction he is getting you anything and everything you look at for more than a second. You keep looking at some necklace at the store? Bought. He sees you liking tiktoks about girls getting flowers? Now you’re getting a bouquet every date night. Does he himself have money? No, but that No.1 hero daddy sure does. And let’s be honest he kind of owes shoto for making his childhood - for lack of a better word- awful.

In conclusion, Shoto loves his pretty girl and will do anything she asks of him without question.

Hanta Sero

Clawing at my cage for this man.

Now sero has been… infatuated with you since he first laid eyes on you one faithful morning. You were ordering at some coffee shop he passes by on his way to school and just one glance had him stopped dead in his tracks. The way your hair framed your face perfectly, your face in general because holy shit- you were gorgeous. Straight out of a magazine. He quickly took notice of the little embellishments you made to your uniform.. uniform? The same one Mina has. OH MY GOD YOU GO TO UA AND HE HAS NEVER SEEN YOU BEFORE?

He literally cannot stop thinking about you and boom you appear again in the halls. Your going the opposite direction has him with your friends and he sees you all have a little cafe cup. Did you buy them all a drink before class? So you’re stupidly gorgeous and nice. Great, he, for sure, has no chance with you now.

But oh that’s where he is wrong.

When you guys start dating he actually cannot believe it. He is very guarded at first because- now it’s my personal hc that sero is a bit insecure- he can’t fathom how you, YOU, would actually want to date someone like…him.

But once those walls come down he doesn’t shut up about you. Seriously all his friends are so annoyed:

“Good god soy sauce if you mention your little girly friend again I’m hurling you across the city.”

“You’re just mad you don’t have a girl as pretty as mine- don’t worry baku-man, I’m sure one day some poor person will take pity on your soul.”

Sero did in fact get hurled across the city that day.

Now where he differs from Shoto is that this man is a GOD with a camera. He has that artistic eye and is able to capture you being your baddest/cutest/authentic self.

Literally ya’ll

He also has a good sense of style. He never thinks you look bad in one thing versus another but he will take into account the vibe of where you’re going and what’s you’ll be doing and give his opinion based on that. Because he grew up with sister and knows how to get around the “which one looks better?” Type question without hurting you.

Now sero doesn’t have money to spoil you senseless but what he does have is the forever lasting instinct to put your comfort above his own. It’s freezing and you didn’t wear a jacket because “a hoe ever gets cold”? Don’t worry sero will give you his and be visibly growing icicles on his body to keep you warm. Feet hurt from those impractical shoes? He’s caring you all the way home even if he is still terribly sore from a killer arm workout the day before with kirishima. A no a mudy puddle and you’re wearing your new white shoes :(! Well sero is laying his jacket down over it or simply caring you over the puddle. He isn’t the type to roll his eyes at how “ridiculous” or “spoiled” you’re being. You are y/n freaking l/n. He’ll do whatever you need to make sure nothing in your life goes wrong.

He also is the type to spam comments in your TikTok or Insta post and makes all his friends do the same. Not that you need it- he just loves fueling your ego.

[wickedscribbles]

whoever makes my baby cry (is gonna lose some teeth tonight) ch. 1

Masterlist Ch. 2 Summary: Saving the timeline and moving in with Wade Wilson is one thing. Going on his first, real, official date with the man is another thing entirely.

*or*

Logan struggles to tell Wade that he doesn't want Wade's idea of perfect. He just wants what they already have. Pairing: Wade Wilson/Deadpool x Logan Howlett/Wolverine

Rating: Explicit

Tags: established relationship, domestic fluff, porn with plot, mental health issues, dirty talk, biting, bottom Logan/top Wade, blowjobs, come swallowing, praise kink, dry humping, PTSD

Word Count: 3.5K

If you like what I write and can afford to do so, please consider buying me a coffee! It would be much appreciated.

It wasn’t always this easy to wake up.

Before his new and surprising way of life, there were thousands of days when Logan hated this particular reminder of his immortality. Like he and the sun were in competition – which of them would outlast the other? And the worse the night before had been, the more bitter and ironic the morning. Day after day after day.

Lately, though, things are different. Things are good.

Today, Logan stirs awake in a warm bed shared with one other man, an ugly little dog, and a cat. Something that could almost feel like a family, even in their cramped apartment with all its issues. A hot and aching feeling hits his chest to even think the word; too many times he’d had that and lost it. Though he can’t lose Wade the way he’s lost others in the past, that fear isn’t quick to go away.

Wade’s face is buried in the collar of Logan’s t-shirt, and Logan doesn’t have to pull away to know that he’s drooling in his sleep. Maybe if it were someone else, he’d be irritated. With Wade, he’s just gotten used to it. Hell, he likes Wade too much to even care. Despite the constant chatter (yapping, as Wade says people call it now), the large generational gap, and the unconventional way they’d met, Logan does more than tolerate him.

He really, really likes Wade Wilson.

Though regenerative capabilities are a massive bonus, Logan also just enjoys being around him. He’s got a wicked sharp wit and sense of humor that get to Logan even when he’s trying to pretend they don’t. Wade’s damn good in a fight, light on his feet and agile in a way that Logan’s not sure he’ll ever be. He’s sweet, underneath all the talk.

The guy's interesting, talented, caring, and – fuck. This is a long list. Yeah, Logan knows where these sorts of feelings tend to lead. He’s not quite there yet, but he wants to be. He wants to try. Even if there's still a part of him that tells himself to get the hell away before something goes wrong. Because something always goes wrong.

In the tangle of fresh blankets and soft sun, Logan just lets himself lie there for a while. Get a little uninterrupted peace before the day has to start. It won’t be long before Puppins is hauling herself up and licking their faces, demanding breakfast and her morning walk. Currently she’s tits up at the foot of the bed, snoring. Bonnet is curled into a tight ball not far away, tail and paws tucked in.

Tranquility can’t last forever, though. Logan’s arm is at an uncomfortable angle under Wade’s body, and when he gently tries to pull it free, Wade begins to stir awake.

“Mm,” he mumbles, taking the time for a long, dramatic stretch. “Morning, kitty cat.”

“Morning,” Logan answers, leaning down to kiss him on the side of the head.

At their feet, Puppins is already beside herself with excitement, flipping and twisting to get upright so she can stick her tongue in someone’s nostrils. Logan takes advantage of the few seconds he has to shift a little closer, slinging a leg over Wade’s hip.

“You sleep okay?”

“Mmhm.”

Wade kisses him back after nodding, something sweet that could be their version of chaste. Logan would have a better time believing he actually meant it to be, if not for the way Wade slowly grinds his morning wood into Logan’s own, teasing even with a sleepy grin on his face.

“Yeah, I sure d–hey!” He’s interrupted by the inevitable dog in his face, tail going crazy as she plants her pointy little paws on each of them for leverage. “Okay, sweetie, we get it, you’re a bigger whore than Papa and you really want to go out.”

Bonnet cracks an eye open. He briefly looks at Logan as if to say what the actual fuck? before slipping off the bed and out the door.

“I’ll take her, you stay here.”

Logan eases his way out of bed and holds out his arms for Puppins to hop into, and she does so with gusto.

Wade gives puppy eyes almost as good as the dog does.

“Aww, you’re the best, angel face.” He gives them both a little wave from the bed as Logan carries her out. “Be good for Daddy, okay girl? No staring into the distance for thirty minutes like you’ve seen the ghost of a Victorian child.”

Trying to look annoyed at the antics and falling short, Logan shakes his head. The juxtaposition of being called kitty cat and then daddy within the same five minutes does something to him that he’s not even going to attempt to rationalize. Better to stuff it into the waistband of his shorts so that he doesn’t scare the neighbors.

She’s pretty fast about it, thankfully. Logan trots her outside the apartment in her little matching harness and leash and she does a lap around the block, sniffing at all the familiar spots. By the time they make it back inside, Wade’s got her fancy wet food ready and waiting, and Puppins launches herself into it like she’s never had an honest meal.

Not that he can really single her out. Bonnet eats in much the same way, his body hunched possessively over the bowl, growling through bites as if someone’s about to take it away from him. Like they’d risk their hand trying.

“Our sweet little freak shows,” Wade says fondly, bumping his hip into Logan’s as they take a minute to make sure there’s not going to be any roughhousing.

(Roughhousing loosely translates to Puppins finishing her food and wandering over to Bonnet, then screaming out her drama when she gets smacked in the face. She somehow fails to remember, every day, that he likes a firm boundary with his breakfast.)

Logan hums his agreement, sparing a sideways glance at Wade in nothing but Logan’s own boxers and a loose tank top that reads Satan Loves My Gay Ass. If he’s right, they’ll have about two more minutes before his cat– as Wade sometimes refers to Bonnet – horks down the rest of his food, leaving the household in peace. Then they can have their fun.

Seems like Wade’s right there with him. As soon as Bonnet prowls away from his empty bowl, extra claws clicking on the linoleum, he snatches the bowl up – just in time for Puppins to collide with his forearm on her way to lick it clean.

“No no no, my delicate little scrotum-faced wonder,” he coos at her. “We all know what cat food does to your already tumultuous digestive tract.”

No fucking kidding, Logan thinks. They’d had to rip out and replace a good strip of the carpet the first time they’d caught her in it.

“Anyway!” Wade deposits the pet bowls in the sink with a clang. “I’m pretty sure our dicks were in the middle of something?”

Logan grins, often unable to help himself where Wade is concerned. “They mighta been.”

That affirmation is all it takes to get them back to the bedroom, this time shutting the door with a click. Logan pins Wade to it in two seconds flat, his mouth hungry as they kiss, running his hands up and down the other man’s exposed biceps with a quiet sound of want.

He can’t help how good Wade looks wearing his boxers. They’re too fucking big for him, for one thing, slipping a little on his slightly slimmer build. Almost giving him the whole show, depending on the angle. Not a problem now, because he’s straining them hard with his tented cock. Like he’d planned on getting Logan this worked up before breakfast.

Their lips dance and tease each other for a while in that way they both adore; a little pain, a little fun, all of it mixing together until things are indistinguishable. Teeth nipping and pulling before tongues get involved, Logan’s hips pressing deep into Wade’s, a push and pull of oxytocin. One of Wade’s hands works its way into Logan’s hair, sending a thrill of pleasure up his spine as he gently scratches at his scalp.

“Should we take this party to the bed?” Wade asks as they break away for a moment. “Or would you rather I fuck you against the door so hard that the neighbors think we have a really insistent visitor?”

Honestly, that sounds fun – until Logan pictures banging his shoulders into the unforgiving door frame hundreds of times.

“Bed,” Logan decides.

It’s only a few steps away. Wade walks him backwards until the back of his legs collide with the mattress, and Logan lets himself fall. The bed gives a hellish squeak underneath the sudden weight, reminding them both of the four bed frames that they’ve gone through since they’ve started dating. They may be on their way to the fifth if this one keeps up.

They’re quick to arrange themselves more comfortably at the head of the bed. Logan surrendered long ago to the idea of how nice it felt to have Wade on top of him, like a weighted blanket that won't shut the fuck up. The same stays true now – Wade’s talking up all the things they could do and the many ways he could make Logan feel good, all pressed between fervent neck kisses that make him arch and pant and whine.

“Yeah, big guy?” Wade purrs down at him. “Aww, look at you. We’re all riled up this morning, aren’t we?”

As an answer, Logan locks his arms around Wade’s back. He grapples him, swinging a leg over until their positions are switched yet again, drinking in the broad grin on his boyfriend’s face.

Boyfriend. What a vast and terrifying concept.

“And whose fault is that?”

Logan pulls at the edge of Wade’s tank top, stretching it down until he can lick and bite at enough of his chest to be satisfied. Covering his skin with little nips and marks, then sinking down lower, hovering over his abdomen, pushing the shirt up to Wade’s ribs so he can lavish over his scarred and puckered stomach. The scent of arousal colors the air, thick and sweet, and Logan nudges his head against the waistband of Wade’s boxers – his boxers – with a moan.

Breathing faster with the anticipation of what’s about to happen, Wade’s having a difficult time keeping up with any potential banter. One of his hands returns to Logan’s hair, where he knows he likes them. Logan rises into the touch, his eyes dark and needy.

“I’d like to plead not guilty, Your Honor,” says Wade, watching with unmatched interest as Logan pulls down the boxers and slips his cock free. “Pretty sure you’re the one who started this whole shebang.”

Pausing to shrug as if to say you got me there, Logan smiles up at Wade before pressing a kiss to the base of his dick. If he really wanted to, he could argue that the way Wade looked in his boxers had compelled him to be a little hornier than usual. But honestly…he’s too eager to suck him off.

Because he fucking loves this.

Getting to turn his brain off and do something with his body that feels incredible instead of awful. Quite literally the polar opposite of what he’s been doing for the majority of his life – the fighting and violence, the brutal misery of it all. Sex with Wade still feels like something he shouldn’t let himself be doing, especially when Wade indulges all the guilty little pleasures that have long gone untouched in the back of Logan’s psyche.

Most of all, it feels so good to let go with a partner. Sure, he’s tangled with other mutants in the past, but there was always a part of him that had to hold back. Whatever he could possibly do to Wade, Wade can not only take, but will likely even enjoy. The possibility of anything and everything melts on his tongue like mint chocolate, something to savor. Something rare.

And now that he’s had a taste, he is never, ever letting go.

He tries to take his time, to make this sultry and teasing, but it’s so hard. Wade’s cock is inches from his face, dripping and straining for attention. Logan doesn’t stop to do any of the usual tricks – no fanning his breath over the length of it or lapping up the pre-come. No pausing to tease that extra-sensitive spot right under the head. Logan only has the patience to kiss a fierce, hungry line, look right at Wade, smirk, and then swallow him down.

“Fuck, kitty cat,” Wade hisses. “Going straight for the kill shot today, huh?”

Logan raises an eyebrow, giving him wordless snark. Pausing for a moment to see if this particular merc is keen on giving him more mouth before he continues what he’s trying to do. When the answer seems to be no, he continues, sinking down deep between Wade’s spread legs to take as much of him as he can. Opening up the back of his throat to make more room, aware that he’s going to start drooling any second.

The attention leaves Wade nearly senseless. When Logan remembers to look up – to get the eye contact that the other man loves, but still sometimes leaves him feeling vulnerable, even despite the intimacy of what they’re already doing – Wade’s gazing at him with the most punched-out expression of need. As if Logan’s the hottest thing he’s ever seen (though he's got greying hair and wrinkles and all the other things he secretly worries make him unattractive).

The way his mouth hangs open a little bit drives Logan fucking crazy. He can hear every gasp and whine, Wade’s earnest brown eyes on him, his throat bobbing, sweat beginning to shine on his exposed skin. Logan makes a desperate sound of his own, achingly hard in his boxers as he sucks Wade’s cock sloppy and fast.

“Baby, that’s so good, you feel so fucking good, fucking perfect on my cock, aren’t you?”

He increases the pace in response, growling low and pleased in the back of his throat.

“Such a good boy,” Wade gasps, the hand in Logan's hair twisting harshly. Logan whines again, feeling his cock jolt at the sensation. “God, you're perfect, first taking the dog out and now this – oh, I'm definitely about three paragraphs away from coming in your mouth –”

Logan can’t wait anymore. He ruts against the firm line of Wade's calf, aching to be touched in any way he can get. His eyes slip closed, a shiver of pure relief traveling down his sun-freckled shoulders. The simple friction is clumsy, reminding him for one burning second of the way he’d jack off as a much, much younger man – but he can’t be bothered to give a fuck. Especially not with the way Wade’s fucking into his mouth now, his voice threatening to pitch into a whimper.

Forcing himself to look up to catch the look on Wade’s face, Logan’s just in time to see him arch, gorgeous, off the bed, hands scrabbling out of Logan’s hair to cover his face.

“Logan, sweetheart, so fuckin’ hot, don’tstopdon’tstopdon’tstop–”

Breathing hard through his nose, Logan fucks his leg in earnest, slobber dripping down from his mouth to pool all over the base of Wade’s cock. Only seconds later, Wade bucks his hips one last time and comes, gushing praise that Logan can hardly make out. He's too focused on wrapping his free hand around what he doesn't have in his mouth, milking Wade for everything he's worth, swallowing down what he’s given. Pausing his own enjoyment for a minute to focus on his partner’s – because that in itself is beyond sexy.

When it's clear that he's too sensitive to take any more, Logan lets up. Wade, still a little starry eyed, pats the mattress in a gesture for him to scoot up.

“C’mere, peanut. Your turn.” And he goes, like a domesticated animal, crawling up until Wade can reach him. Hardly pausing to peel off his underwear, annoyed when they hinder the process. Knocking his forehead gently to Wade’s as he collapses on his side, sighing out a sound that turns into a moan of relief as a hand finally wraps around his cock. Knowing he won’t last more than a minute and knowing that he won’t get any shit for it, at least not any that would actually hurt his feelings.

On their sides, Wade jerks him off fast and rough, just the right way to get Logan to come if he needs it right now. He can feel more than see Wade grinning at him, quick open-mouthed kisses landing on his face and mouth and neck as Logan feels the rush of orgasm coiling up tight. One hand curls and uncurls into a fist, an unconscious effort to keep from slicing through Wade or the mattress below them.

Of course, Wade notices. He never misses a fucking beat.

“You’re alright, princess,” he says softly. “Go ahead. Give me your best.”

“M’gonna come,” Logan chokes out. He’s meeting Wade’s hand with his hips, shaking the bed. “Wade –”

The orgasm hits like a waking dream, and as promised, Logan covers Wade’s hand and stomach in warm spurts.

This is far from the first time he’s come, hard, while slicing through various parts of his boyfriend’s body. Today it’s his side, spearing into his skin like it’s butter. In the back of Logan’s mind, he registers which organs he’s punctured before the claws are sliding out, Wade’s skin knitting itself neatly back into place. Blood dribbles down his stomach and onto the sheets below – lucky for them, they got smart about buying dark sheets several romps ago.

Unfortunately for Logan, his fight or flight response doesn’t always think these sorts of things are consensual. His heart will sometimes stay pounding for long minutes after they’re done when the claws are involved. Which is fucking annoying, because they’ve already talked circles around it. Jess, his therapist, says it probably has something to do with a lot of unresolved trauma he’s had over the years. Like he’s supposed to just unpack all of that in the span of a year or even ten.

Wade notices him again. Their foreheads bump.

“Good?” he asks.

Logan nods. “Good.” He takes a deep breath, willing his pulse to resemble something normal. “What time are we headed out?”

“Hmm…” Wade rolls over on his back, contemplating. “Probably gonna need at least… two hours to up my glam factor? Maybe three?”

Scoffing, Logan hauls himself out of the bed on wobbly knees. He extends a hand to help Wade do the same.

“Thought this was a date, not your runway premiere,” he says, grinning at the resulting look on Wade’s face as he strips out of his blood-stained, come-covered tank. They open the bedroom door to a very excited Mary Puppins wagging her tail. Wade acknowledges her while Logan steps into the bathroom to get the water running for their shower. These things go easily now; most of the time, neither one of them has to ask the other how sex is going to go down. They flow through it, and help one another untangle any knots that might appear along the way.

“It could be both! I do things in my spare time that you don’t know about.”

Together, they step under the water, comfortable enough to know who wants to go under the water first and who’s washing what when.

“Haven’t seen you on Drag Race yet, so you must not be that prevalent.”

“Oh you are a catty bitch –” Logan ducks as Wade attempts to ram his face into the tile wall, laughing a little. Their shower is definitely not big enough for roughhousing, but that’s never stopped them. It does, however, piss off their landlord every time there’s a new crack in the wall. They’re on the verge of being some of her least favorite tenants – surely held back only by all the sweet talking Wade does and all the peace offerings Logan brings around in the form of homemade meals.

(Standing 4’11’’ at full height, nothing scares Wade more than Logan yelling it’s Rhonda over his shoulder from the front door – and Rhonda peering under his elbow, barking out Wade I swear to God if your ugly ass little rat dog pisses in the hallway one more time –)

He invokes her wrath now, and it’s enough to make Wade settle down and wash.

Once they’re thoroughly scrubbed clean, Wade drops the towel over Logan’s head, playfully tousling his hair.

“Seriously though,” Logan hears as he fights his way out of the towel. “I’m gonna need a hot minute, so you go ahead and get your war paint on first, peanut.”

“If you’re sure,” he shrugs. Not like he’s been on a date for far longer than he’d like to confess to, but Logan’s go-to takes less than twenty minutes.

“‘Kay bye!”

Wade shuts the bathroom door, leaving Logan alone with his reflection in the mirror. He’s smiling, all soft and stupid, the look almost unfamiliar on his own face.

Yeah, mornings could be pretty damn good around here.

[charliemwrites]

Making this a separate post because the idea has evolved a bit:

(Was talking about this in the discord if it looks familiar)

I’m thinking less of a 1 to 1 Greek god au. I’m thinking it’s more of a theme to their dynamic and in parts of their story.

Johnny is a reincarnation of some ancient, nameless (or many-named) god, associated with dark forces. He’s not evil incarnate. But he is something of a representation of “darker” human nature. Anger, bloodlust, impatience, selfishness.

Persephone!reader, by comparison, is sort of a personification of gentler human nature. Patience, mercy, altruism, gentleness. She is less “awakened” so to speak because her mother has been a major limiting factor in her life. Like, helicopter parent to the extreme.

Persephone!reader goes to her aunt Laswell as a sort of compromise. See the world, the real world, in a controlled sort of way with her aunt watching carefully over her shoulder.

Problem is, no one is expecting the dreams to start as soon as she gets to base. Dreams of a man that scares her as much as tempts her, and encouraging the worst and most selfish of her impulses. She doesn’t tell anyone - why would she? They’re just dreams.

Captain MacTavish scares intimidates her, even though she insists that he doesn’t, looking him in the eye with her chin tilted up defiantly. When he’s on base he finds all sorts of ways to cross her path, sometimes teasing her into an indignant fluster, other times telling her off for “distracting recruits”. Always, always has an eye on her, even if it’s not his own.

Once things come to a head (I haven’t figured out how yet) Persephone!reader insists it isn’t fair. And just because they’ve been something in the past doesn’t mean they have to now.

Johnny, of course, is utterly amused. She’s barely got any idea what’s going on, but sure, she’s going to deny forces beyond life and death.

They strike a deal. When he’s away (for months at a time… a season’s length, even) she can run and hide and do whatever she wants to “escape” him. If he cant find her within a week of coming back, then he’ll leave her be and she’s “free”.

(She scoffs that he’s going to cheat, using her aunt and all of her connections but he just scoffs. As if Laswell would help him over her own niece. And as if he needs the help.)

He always finds her within a day of coming back from a mission. No matter where she is or what her name is. No matter how well she covers her tracks (even with Laswell’s help). He comes to her with gifts.

At first it would be sweet if not for the smirk on his face and the realization that she’s “lost” again. He brings flowers of all kinds, and green plants in little pots. Then it’s a new sweater, a nice coat, a piece of jewelry.

And then… and then they get worse. A bullet is the first sign. It’s just a whole bullet, her name engraved in its side. Then it’s a casing, the bullet clearly having been shot. He tells her it went right between someone’s eyes. The “gifts” become patches from enemy jackets, pretty stones splattered with dried blood, a human tooth.

It’s awful. She hates it. She can’t ever make herself say it (or believe it). And when he’s gone, she physically can’t make herself throw them away. Shes tried and tried, and the last time she put a real effort into it, she ended up on the floor having a panic attack, sobbing and calling Johnny.

(He purrs at her through the phone, gunfire background noise while he soothes her back inside. His voice keeps her company while she makes a tea, readies a bath. Tuts at her to call him again when she’s tucking into bed. She refuses to acknowledge that she does.)

Similarly, she finds herself getting or making things for him. For his inevitable return. Cigars and his favorite whiskey. Making patches for his uniform. A leather bracelet with her initials on a silver charm. A ring with an inlay the color of her eyes. Doesn’t even realize what she’s doing until she’s home or the thing is done. She’ll hide them away for months with no plans of giving them to Johnny. He inevitable finds them within his first week home anyway.

(There’s the one time she bakes for him, humming as she measures and mixes ingredients. Lets him steal tastes from the bowl and lick flour off her cheek. Only realizes what she’s done in a domestic haze when he’s eaten the sweet treat and thanked her for it.)

And when he’s home…

The deal is that when he’s home, he gets to treat her like his. Climbs into her bed, grumbling about pillows being a poor substitute for him. Steps into her shower midway through, ducking his head so she can shampoo and condition his hair with her gentle hands. Dresses her in his clothes, in his dog tags. Always has a hand on her, even in her (their) home.

And he delights in yanking her into his lap - especially in public. When his team comes to visit (and they always do) he lounges with her on his thigh. He’s also kind of a dick. Like he’s courteous to servers (mainly female ones because chances are they won’t flirt with his girl) but pretty much any stranger talking to him or his Persephone is met with smarmy asshole behavior.

It’s to the point that she just fusses at him to let her talk to people. And he’s happy to do so, amused by the way she charms people. He only intervenes when someone is rude or a little too friendly with her. She’s had to break up bar fights before because god knows his men won’t try to stop their captain.

She is literally the only being in all of history that can tell him no and stop and he’ll listen regardless of the situation. She has to actively remind herself that it’s not healthy and she should not be a little flattered about it. And she’s not. (She is.)

[sarahisslytherin]

eyes open || f.o.

summary: finnick isn't the best at consoling people, but when you pay him a visit during the night watch, he's determined to be your rock, your shoulder to cry on.

contains: angst, talk of death, lil bit of fluff towards the end.

a/n: my specialy is joining fandoms ten years late. gif by @movie-gifs

the chirps of crickets are all that can be heard in this part of the arena. the artificial moon hangs just above your heads as if reminding you of the nation’s heavy gaze. katniss lays asleep by your side, peeta across from you. you rise ever so slowly, so as to avoid waking the capitol’s favorite couple. you head towards the rocks, in search of a sliver of peace. instead you find finnick, eyes barely open.

“this seat taken?” you grumble, gesturing to the space beside him. he startles but quickly recovers, before setting his sights back on the horizon and telling you it’s “all yours”. you sink to the ground by him, following his eyeline. 

“it looks real, doesn’t it?” you sigh. “like it goes on beyond what we can see.”

finnick is quiet for a moment, considering your words. “yeah, but it isn’t.”

“i can’t believe i’m back here again.” your head hangs low. “i’ll die in this cage. i thought i was free.” your eyes begin to grow puffy, your lips and cheeks reddening somewhere beneath your matted hair.

“don’t say that.” finnick chides, not sure how to take away your pain but not for lack of want. he watches as your armor, the one you’ve been wearing ever since you first stepped foot in an arena, slips off, your tears streaming down your cheeks. “i’m sorry, i really am. about everything. i really am shit at consoling people.”

you gasp in between silent sobs, “you’re not that bad.” finnick clicks his tongue, wraps a strong arm around you and pulls you in, your head finding a place to lay in the crook of his neck. your tears wet his skin, your ribcage shakes against his as you weep. and he lets it all happen. 

“come on, don’t cry.” you hear him coo as his hand dries away your tears. “you’re gonna survive this. i’ll make sure of it.” 

“how would you do that?” you croak. “and more importantly, why? you’re supposed to kill me.”

“i don’t know how just yet, but i have my ways.” he smirks, as if he has a map out of all this, a blueprint of a future where you both get to live. “besides, you’re too pretty to kill.” 

you snort at that, give him a playful shove. “what a charmer you are, odair.”

“so i’ve been told.” he chuckles, noticing the way your eyes flutter and your body begins to grow limp against his. “go on, get some sleep. you’re safe, okay? i’ll keep my eyes open.”

[freyito]

ᴍᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴍʀ ᴡᴏʟꜰ

✭ pairing(s): gallagher x gn reader

✩ inspo: me and mr wolf by the real tuesday weld

★ summary: The Family is hosting a ball as more promotion for the Charmony Festival. At this ball, a certain Bloodhound Family member takes interest in you...

✧ a/n: pspsps did you know requests are open <3? (also totally not setting up a part 2 not at allll (guy who set up the most obvious intro to part 2))

✦ like my work? feel free to send a request !

🗒 cw: gn reader, anxious reader, mild penacony spoilers, just fluff-ish, he's a little eerie, proofread

✎ wc: 2.5k

The scene before you is incredibly lavish, light, and dreamy. It speaks of The Family’s power and bank, how quickly they are able to set up such a beautiful sight within the Dreamscape. It’s like a fantasy, something you’d only see in, well, dreams. Patrons from all sorts of colorful backgrounds flood the floor, some of them you believe you recognize. The chatter around you drowns out what would be ethereal music, guests piling in from two wide double doors. You look to your right, and you see Sunday, the head of the Oak Family all the way at the end of the venue, hands behind his back and observing the revelry. On the other side of the venue, you see Oti Alfalfa– which is very questionable in its own right. Perhaps the Alfalfa family paid for the venue, or… something. You couldn’t really make sense of it. With how crowded it was, you didn’t want to make sense of it.

With your head down, you make your way through the crowd, doing your best to make sure you don’t bump into anyone. After all, this was the first time you’ve seen anyone dressed up so fancy. And, some passing glances at you tell you that, for once, these people care about what they’re wearing in the Dreamscape. You avoid their gazes, making a beeline to the drinks. Or so you hope– this is a formal ball, after all. Would they really have a drink table like it’s some highschool prom? You get your answer when you reach the end of the hall, and there’s no table in sight. A pity, really. However, you do spot waiters walking around with platters of SoulGlad. It isn’t the best choice, but it’ll wet your throat.

Grabbing one of the delicate glasses after flagging a waiter down, you hunker down in a less populated corner. You watch as the tempo takes hold, dancers falling into line. You grow increasingly conscious that you are here alone, no partner to dance with. Not like you wanted to, right? Throwing yourself into a ball with no partner, not even a friend, it feels… embarrassing. And suddenly, you’re aware of why people's eyes have been on you. You lower your head once more, staring down into the glass of SoulGlad, furrowing your brows. You swirl the glass, watching as it fizzes and dies down, as the music around you dies down. What a shame, really… You had no idea what you were doing here, perhaps you just wanted to join in on the revelry? Enjoying yourself seems like a distant reality, despite that being the essence of the Dreamscape.

Reluctantly, you take a swig of the drink, letting it cool your throat. With a huff, you look back into the near empty glass, practically forgetting to even taste the drink. Whether you’re spurred on by self-hatred or a genuine interest, you make your way to the floor. Catching another waiter as you do so, you hand them to empty glass. It feels weird, being in such a posh environment. Yet, before you can reach the floor, a hand grabs your wrist. It sends a shiver down your spine, and suddenly your new-found confidence is shot. You turn around to reprimand whoever grabbed you, but you’re met with a Bloodhound Guard.

He looks at you with a stoic face, raising his eyebrow slightly when you shoot him a judgmental look. Just because he’s part of the Bloodhound Family doesn’t mean it’s okay for him to grab you so suddenly. And it seems he’s caught onto that, because he lets go of your arm.

“Ahem, sorry about that,” He starts, his tone cool and even, his voice slightly gravelly and deep. Yet, it doesn’t sound like he’s actually sorry, there is no apology in his tone. “You’re, uh, you’re kinda makin’ a warpath, here.”

You raise your eyebrow, and you have no idea how to respond. The words get stuck in your throat, and all you can do is look around. You’re on the edge of the floor, and the dancing hasn’t ceased. Everyone’s eyes are on each other, thank the Aeons.

At your baffled look, he relaxes and chuckles softly. “Sorry, just had to make sure you weren’t… going to cause trouble.”

A light blush dusts your cheeks, and you find yourself feeling embarrassed again. Only then do you take in the man’s disheveled appearance. Some stubble, hair left undone for such a fancy event, and a suit that was put together all too quickly, wrinkled and perhaps a little stained. His hazel eyes bore into yours, as if searching you for something, though he’s already established that you are no threat. Something about him, however, feels familiar. You swear, his name is on the tip of your tongue, you’ve seen this man… somewhere before.

“Apologies, didn’t mean to ruin your night…” He trails off, eyes tearing away to look you up and down. When his eyes meet yours once more, he extends a calloused hand towards you. His gaze softens and he smiles with a huff. “Care for a dance?”

“Ah…” Is the only thing you manage to choke out. You’re taken aback by the sudden invitation, slightly unnerved. It’s not that he himself is nerve wracking, but it’s the way he’s gone from gruff to gentlemanly. “Sure.”

Your response is dry, but you put your hand in his. Wordlessly, he leads you into the center of the floor, falling in step with all the dance partners around you. Despite his messy appearance, he dances elegantly. He matches the flow of the room easily, swaying, each step smooth. Now that you’re up close and personal, you take in the faint smell of tobacco and some generic cologne, and an undertone of something metallic. You do your best to forget about it, allowing yourself to get whisked away by the melody surrounding you two.

“Gallagher, by the way.” The man starts once more, answering the question, or lack thereof, you had asked yourself.

“What brings a Bloodhound to a, uh, ball?” You ask, attempting to strike up conversation. It only hits you now that you are dancing with a stranger, so closely and almost… intimately. Another feeling of unease crawls down your spine, and you can’t understand why.

Gallagher chuckles at your question, as if it’s preposterous to think that the Bloodhound Family do more than just act tough. “We’re allowed a little fun every once in a while,” He shrugs, pulling you ever so slightly closer. “It’s not a crime, right?”

The proximity makes you blush, acutely aware of just how rough and calloused his hands feel, your palms start to get sweaty. You do your best to ignore it, after all, this is a man you just met. “No, no, not at all…” You try to act and sound confident, ignoring the pit in your stomach. “Just… I didn’t expect it, that's all.”

Silence stretches between you two as you spin around the floor, like cogs in a machine. It only strikes you now how… mundane this event truly is. Sure, it is grand and lights up the night, but is there really a purpose? The unease and anxiety settles in your bones, and your pace falters, suddenly no longer able to follow Gallagher’s steps. He notices this, and slows down. But when you meet his eyes, his gaze isn’t concerned. He can see you piecing things together, and a smirk tugs at his lips.

“Got something on your mind?” His voice lowers, barely above the music that surrounds you two. It carries the tone of a challenge, but you don’t want to respond. Your throat is dry once more, and you keep your gaze away from him. He squeezes your hands and traps you within the waltz, every step caging you in.

“Just… nervous, sorry,” You deflect, trying to ignore the creeping unease that seeps into your veins. Perhaps this is all in your head, and you’re just letting the embarrassment, the anxiety, and the nerves get to your head. It’s not a far-off assumption, since you’ve stepped foot in the hall you’ve wanted nothing more than to run out. To wake up from the dream. “My bad.”

Gallagher lets up, loosening his grip on your hand and puts a little space between you two as you fall back into pace with the other dancers. His expression eases into something softer, something that doesn’t necessarily fit a man of his stature.

“You’re more than welcome to take a break,” He doesn’t apologize, brushing off the scene from the moment before. Yet, despite this invitation, he continues to dance, his own pace does not waver. “I won’t mind.”

You feel nauseous, yes, but when was the last time you’ve danced? When was the last time you’ve felt this elegant? You swallow your anxiety and shake your head, allowing yourself to really enjoy this waltz. “It’s okay.”

Gallagher responds with a ‘hm’ and a nod, no words spoken. Finally, you watch your steps. He’s already set himself as the lead, and you had no qualms being the follow. You step backward. Pause. Then you step to the side. Pause. Then you bring your feet together. You continue this pattern, finally hearing the music above the tapping around you. It’s almost comforting in a way, being able to follow something that feels… luxurious. And Gallagher seems to be enjoying himself, as well. He isn’t pulling you closer, his hands hold you loosely, as if he’s suddenly afraid of scaring you. As if he hadn’t.

Slowly, you relax. The beat lulls you into a sense of calm, spinning around the floor as if it came naturally. You are no longer hyper aware of everyone else, feeling as if it’s just you and Gallagher. His heady scent feels the air between you two, the metallic tang you smelled earlier becoming a lot more potent. You do your best to ignore it, the music picking up intensity. He drops your right arm, raising his left hand up, and spinning you. It’s a light and airy feeling, something akin to a warm spring day. All worries wash away so easily under such a simple act.

A man you’ve barely known, that you’re sure you’ve seen a handful of times in Golden Hour and Blue Hour, treating you so delicately despite his gruff exterior. Perhaps it’s the exhaustion that follows such a nerve wracking experience, you can’t tell. For now, it doesn’t matter. You are enjoying yourself, dancing with a Bloodhound or not.

Just as the waltz feels like it’s reaching an end, Gallagher dips you down, his hand placed firmly against the small of your back. His eyes meet yours once more, a sly grin spreading across his face, giving you a proper view of his sharp canine teeth. It isn’t as strange as before, something you feel like you’ve grown used to in just a mere four minutes. But, in that moment, you realize the rough skin of his knuckles isn’t just from his hard line of work, but rather bruised skin. You run your thumb over his knuckles, and he only furrows his eyebrows.

At this, he brings you back up, and you two resume the steady waltz. Now, you want to ask him about it. You steal another glance at his hand, trying to see if you were right, but the dim lights within the ballroom black you from doing so. You can’t get hurt in the Dreamscape, you’re sure of it. So, it must’ve been somewhere in reality…

“Some hooligan was stirring up trouble, wouldn’t leave their room. Had to drag them out.” As if he read your mind, he responds quickly. It’s quite impressive with how in-tune he is with you and your mind.

“Ah,” You nod, trying to sound understanding. It checks out, that must’ve been why his suit was a little… sloppy. “Sounds like it sucked.”

“The Charmony Festival brings out all sorts of undesirables…” Gallagher affirms.

The conversation is dry, but you still feel a weird pull towards him. You simply cannot figure out what else to talk about, what to ask. Anything you fish out in your mind sounds like you’re on a date with him. Sure, the current situation feels like it isn’t far off from that conclusion, but he asked you for a dance, not a date.

And, unfortunately, the ball was coming to an end. It’s a shame, really. Time had slipped away from your mind, and you had enjoyed yourself. Even with such an unsure start, with such an enigmatic fellow, it was fun. The music slowly comes to a stop, as does the other dancers. You and Gallagher are left together in a sea of chatter, flats and shoes clacking as patrons walk off the floor, an awkward air falling over you two like a blanket.

You look at Gallagher, and he has a somber look on his face, watching everyone filter off the dance floor. He himself had a great time, too. Something you assumed may be rare for Bloodhounds. But, he snaps out of it quickly, returning your gaze with a near sheepish smile.

“Such a shame, isn’t it?” He chuckles, “Don’t remember the last time I’ve danced like that.”

“Yeah, I don’t think I’ve ever danced.” You shake your head, sighing softly.

“Well, you were a perfect dance partner, if that counts for somethin’.” Gallagher starts to walk, following the stream of people.

You follow suit, blushing a little at the compliment. You try to find an organic flow for the conversation, but all you can stutter out is a ‘thanks’ and a small nod as if to affirm your own confidence. You want so badly to follow up with a question about him, to see if you can get a crack from his cool demeanor, but ultimately, you fall short when you two finally step out of the venue. With a brisk exhale, you feel lighter. You hadn’t realized how stuffy it felt within the ballroom until now.

“Well, it was fun,” Gallagher sighs, shrugging off his blazer casually. “I’d invite you for another dance, but, that’s not necessarily my thing.”

With your one chance at getting to know more, you trip over your own words and decide, why not? Why not shoot your shot, ask him out?

“I mean… uh, we could, get dinner, or something?” You sound so unsure, so flustered, blushing a little at your own question.

“Why not?” Gallagher shrugs, an easy smile plastered to his face. “Don’t think I ever got your name, either.”

You hastily tell him your name, bowing your head like you’re grateful to him for this opportunity. You’re more grateful to yourself, being able to ask a question like that. You two quickly exchange phone numbers, and suddenly it feels like there's a weight lifted off your shoulders.

He gives you a thoughtful look, scratching at his stubble. “How about a drink?”

© freyito, 2024 | masterlist | queue | kofi | star header by roseschoices DO NOT REPOST AS YOUR OWN, REPOST ON ANY OTHER PLATFORM, OR USE FOR AI/AI CHATBOTS.

[bbrissonn]

𝐚𝐥𝐥-𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡 - 𝐥𝐮𝐜��� 𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐢

summary: in which no matter how much you tried, you were never good enough for him and you decide it was time for things to get messy within the hockey team

disclaimer: english is not my first language and this is not proofread so please excuse any errors and if any words are missing add them in your head :) also this is a work of fiction, this doesn’t reflect how these boys act in real life, and it isn’t how i imagine them acting 

warnings: angst, swearing , not proofread  

pairing: luca fantili x reader

wc: 5.4k (including lyrics)

a/n: i gave some guys on the team a girlfriend, completely random name so don't go trying to find them lol

guts masterlist

I am light as a feather, I’m as stiff as a board

I pay attention to things that most people ignore

And I’m alright with the movies

That make jokes ‘bout senseless cruelty, that’s for sure

And I am built like a mother and a total machine

I feel for your every little issues, I know just what you mean

And I make light of the darkness

I’ve got sun in my motherfuckin’ pocket, best believe

Yeah, you know me, I

You tried, you really did. You took note of every little things he’d mention, hoping that it would be useful in the long run, hoping he’d noticed how much you cared about him. You waited and waited and waited, but it never happened. All the efforts you made to be the perfect girlfriend for him always went unnoticed, brushed to the side. 

You always made sure you looked your best whenever you’d go to his game, wanting to fit the role of the stereotype hockey girlfriend, even though you were far from it. Your body wasn’t as slim and fit as the others and you didn’t have a model like face, but Luca always though you were perfect. You didn’t believe most of time, there were hundreds of girl, prettier girls, that would jump at the occasion to be his girlfriend, so why had he chosen you? 

You went to every single home game, even if it’d meant you’d have to stay up late to do homework, you even went to the games at Michigan State. You were always there to support him, but he was never there for you. You knew it was hard for him to always be free, not having access to his phone for a solid three hours during the afternoon, and when he’d get back to his dorm, he’d fall asleep right away. You never really saw him much during the days, with him having all his classes in the morning, while yours were mainly in the afternoon, nights were the only time you could see each other. 

Even when you spent time together, it was rarely alone. He was close to all his teammates and apparently spending all afternoon together wasn’t enough for them and they always needed to spend their nights together. You two barely ever got alone time, but you tried not to think about it too much since Luca was always more focused on you than his teammates sprawled around his shared dorm room. 

His teammates liked you, you were nice to all of them the moment you met them and they could see how much Luca liked you. Some of them didn’t really understand what he saw in you, something you wish you didn’t know as you overheard them one night during a get together at the senior house. 

You had been outside for a while now, talking to your mom on the phone as you walked around the small backyard of the senior house. Luca was with you for the first couple of minutes of your call, talking to your mom a bit before heading back inside and letting you have alone time with her. As you started making your way back to the backdoor, you saw a couple of figures standing there, nothing unsual. You were planning on just walking past them, smiling at them and letting them go along with their conversation until you heard your name. 

“Wait, who are we talking about again?” Dylan asked the others, before taking a sip of his beer. 

“Y/n.” You heard Johnny answer, and you stopped dead in your tracks. You knew you shouldn’t, it was wrong, but you couldn’t help it. They couldn’t see you since you were on the side of the porch, and no lights were they, you were like a ghost. 

“Oh, yeah, totally agree with you man. Don’t get me wrong, she’d nice and all, but like she barely ever talks.” The Duke boy said, making a couple other guys agree with him. 

“Exactly, what does he even see in her, anyways?” One of them said, making your smile drop. 

“She’s just shy, doesn’t like big groups, that’s all. Once you get to know her, she’s always talking, it’s great ‘cause Luca leaves me alone now. She’s makes him happy, that’s all the really matters.” You recognized Adam say, making your smile grow a little. Over the last six months, you had grown quite close to your boyfriend’s little brother, and hearing him defend you warmed your heart. 

“Dude, all we’re saying is he could do better.” 

“Whatever, I’m going back inside.” Adam said, and soon you heard the door open and all the figures disappeared. You stood there for a while, thinking about everything that you had heard. Your feelings being hurt a little before shaking it all off and walking back inside, quickly finding your boyfriend, who was standing with his brother. 

You never told Luca, or any of them that you had heard their conversation. You knew Luca would get mad at his teammates, and that was the last thing you wanted. You did realize that after that night, Adam started being even nicer to you, always telling you how happy you made your brother, and how thankful he was that you were the one making him this happy. He truly felt like your own little brother in a way.

But something in you changed that day, whenever you’d be having the smallest interaction with any of them, there would always be a voice in the back of your mind reminding you of that conversation. So, you didn’t make much effort to become good friends with any of them, clearly most of you didn’t even think you should be dating their teammate so why would they want to be friends with you? 

Luca wasn’t exactly happy that you weren’t that close to anyone, but you were with Adam, so he considered it a win. He always reminded himself that just because his teammates were his best friend didn’t mean they had to be yours too, he just happy none of them hated you. 

As time went by, you’d now notice some of the weird looks his teammates would give themselves whenever you’d hug Luca after their game, or when you’d be with him at a party and his arms was always around you. But you didn’t let it bother you, you were happy in your relationship, you didn’t need the opinion of other’s, and honestly, they didn’t really have a right to be judging two people for being in love with one another. 

You didn’t know whether or not your boyfriend knew about how some of his best friends felt about your relationship, but you really hoped he didn’t. If he did, it would break you, that he knew what his friends were saying and thinking, but didn’t defend you like his brother had, or that he hadn’t told you about it. 

That all changed one cold night in February.

You were currently standing outside of the Yost arena, Luca had texted you barely minutes before telling you to go wait outside for him. You didn’t really understand why, considering how cold it was, but you did anyways. No one else was around, all the spectators had left almost an hour ago, and all the other girlfriends were waiting inside, in the warmth of the arena. 

“Hey.” You heard your boyfriends voice, making you turn around with a bright smile. 

“Hi, baby. You played amazing!” You told him, rushing over to his warm body and hiding in his arms. The boy chuckled a bit before wrapping his arms around you. 

“I need to talk to you about something.” He mumbled after a couple of seconds, making you pull away from his body. Your hands reached down to his arms, that had fallen from your shoulders, your mittens covered hands holding his bare ones. 

“What’s up, loves?” You asked, only to be met with a sigh from him. Your smile dropped right away, what was going on? 

“I need you to know that I am sorry, okay?” You nodded slightly, confused as to why he was saying that. “I think it’d be better if we weren’t together anymore.”

“What?” 

“I just- I need to focus on hockey, and school.” 

“Oh.” You whispered, your hands letting go of his and falling next to your body. A heavy sigh left your mouth as you tried your hardest not to cry. “O-okay.” 

“So, we’re good?” His question broke you. Not you weren’t, you were far from good. The boy you had fallen in love with in early September had just broken up with you, how were you supposed to be okay with that?

“We’re good.” You lied. Luca smile brightly before giving you and small hug, and before you knew it, he was gone. You were left all alone outside in the freezing cold as he headed back to his friends, ready to enjoy their night, while you were left heartbroken. 

Maybe his friends were right after all…

Forgive and I forget

I know my age and I act like it

Got what you can’t resist

I’m a perfect all-American

The next week was hell, everywhere you went, you’d see one of his teammates. It was like they had all mutually agreed to just be everywhere you were, follow you around just to make you remember every single second of every day that your relationship with Luca was over. 

But clearly he hadn’t even told him, the text from Adam asking if you two had gotten into a fight since you hadn’t been to their dorm in a couple of days, and Luca was talking about everything but you. Your feelings were hurt a little, that he wasn’t even acting like your break-up fazed him at all, like everything in his life was perfect. It hurt even more that you had to be the one to break to news to his brother, scared that Adam would choose to break off all links of communication the two of you had. 

Luckily for you, he didn’t, if anything, to him it just gave you an extra reason to become even closer to him. He knew how much you loved his brother and how much Luca loved you, so he truly didn’t understand why his older brother had done it in the first place. Just because you and Luca weren’t together anymore, didn’t mean you had to lose him too, were his exact words. You knew in that moment that you had a real friend in Adam, one that you wanted to keep for the rest of your life. 

You hadn’t gone to any hockey game after that, no matter how much Adam begged, you weren’t ready to go back to the place where your relationship ended. But when the team had made it to the semi-finals of the big ten championship, facing off again Ohio State, you knew you had to be there. Even though you weren’t physically at the games, you were still watching from home, your heart dropping every time Luca’s name would be mentioned. 

Being back felt weird, it was a place you had grown so fond off, watching your boyfriend and your so-called friends play the sports they love with each other, befriending all the other girlfriends, it was truly special. But it was so different now, you felt like you didn’t belong here anymore. Adam had tried to convince you to seat in the same seat Luca always had for you, but you didn’t want to, not wanting to face all the other girlfriends yet. 

You came with your best friends, so you wouldn’t be alone, and made sure to be near the back rows, you knew the boys always liked to spot people in the crowds, and you didn’t want them to know you were here. You had made Adam promise not to tell anyone you were here, and that you’d wait for him after the game in your car all the way at the end of the parking lot. He was the only one on the team you wanted to see tonight, you came here for him and only him, and because your best friends wouldn’t shut up about going. 

Unknown to you, Luca had spotted you the minute he stepped onto the ice. He hated to admit it, but his eyes still searched for you in the crowd, only he was always met with disappointment when he would not find you. Tonight was different, you were here. Part of him felt like he should be happy you were, or even sad, seeing as it was the first he’d seen you since the break-up. But he wasn’t, no he was angry. Why? He didn’t know. 

After the game ended, with Adam getting two goals and two assists, your friends had gone home right away, tired from all the yelling they had done during the night. So, you waited alone in your car, making sure to park right under a street light so Adam could spot you easily, and so you could see if any weirdos were approaching. 

Luca had left before his brother, Johnny and Gavin walking next to him as they walked out of Yost, and that’s when he saw your car. He knew he should’ve just ignored it, kept walking home, but he couldn’t. He knew you were here for his brother and him only, Adam had told him after Luca corned him after the warm ups. The right thing was to just leave you alone, pretend he didn’t see you, but his legs were moving faster than his brain was. 

The loud knock on your window made you jump, yelping at bit at the sound. You looked to your left, only to be met with an angry Luca. You bit your lip slightly before rolling down your window enough so you two could hear each other. 

“What the fuck are you doing here?” He asked. His tone was harsh and mean, something you had never heard from him before. 

“I am here for Adam, so if you don’t mind, I’d like for you to step away from my car and leave me alone.” You answered him, matching his tone. If he wanted to be a bitch to you after he broke up with you, then he better be expecting the same energy back. 

“You shouldn’t be here.” 

“And who are you to be telling me this? Last time I checked, this is a public parking lot, so I have every right to be here.” You said, you knew that wasn’t what he meant, but you didn’t care. He had no right to walk over here, and talk to you like this. 

“You know that’s not what I fucking meant.” 

“Am I not allowed to cheer for my school? Is that illegal now, Luca?” You said harshly. Luca’s eyes were staring into yours, and you could tell he was holding back from yelling, which scared you a little. 

“You have some nerves-” 

“Oh, I have some nerves? You broke up with me, Luca, not the other way around, and your stupid if you think that’s gonna stop me from coming to see Adam play. I am not here because I wanted to see, if that’s what you’re thinking. I wouldn’t even be here if it wasn’t for Adam. So, get whatever stick you have shoved up your ass out of it and leave me alone.” You said firmly before closing your window and going back on your phone. Luca started knocking over and over on your window, but you didn’t move. You were done with this for the night. After about a minute or two, the boy ended up sending you a text, making you roll your eyes. 

Luca 

ur so fucking petty omg, grow the fuck up and get out of your car

You let out a scoff before turning to look at him with a ‘are you serious’ face. If you were being petty, you didn’t even know what word was describing him at the moment. Thankfully, Adam arrived and the two of them began bickering like little children until the older boy eventually walked away, not before sending you a death glare, and the younger one joined you in your car. 

You started driving immediately, neither of you talked, but you feel Adam’s gaze on you every once in a while. This was exactly why you didn’t want to come to the games before, something was bound to go wrong. 

“I am sorry.” He mumbled after a couple of minutes as the car was stopped at a red light. When you turned your head to look over at him, his eyes were already looking in your direction. 

“It’s whatever. He’s an asshole.” 

I am light as a feather, I’m as fresh as the air

Coca-Cola bottles that I only use to curl my hair

I got class and integrity

Just like a goddamn Kennedy, I swear

With love to spare, I

About a week later, you were laying in bed, your laptop on your lap as you watched the team celebrate their win. Adam had played wonderfully and you couldn’t be prouder of him. Your heart still dropped a little every time the commentators would mention Luca, and even more when they showed the boys after the game. 

You knew it was wrong, you shouldn’t be thinking this way, but you couldn’t help it. He looked so good with his slightly damp hair, the wide smile on his face as he hugged all of his best friends making you smile as well. But you quickly reminded yourself of what he had done and said, making you close your laptop in a heartbeat. 

You then sent a text to Adam, congratulating him for their victory before going to bed. Well, you just laid in bed in the dark, your phone’s screen being the only source of light. Adam answered you almost an hour later, thanking you and saying he’d call you the next morning. You went to sleep not too long after answering him, wishing him a good night and a safe flight home. 

It was almost noon when the younger Fantili boy called you the next day, you could tell he had gone to bed very late, well early this morning. His voice was still a little stuffy like he had just woken up, making you giggle. The two of you chated for a while before he informed you the hockey team was throwing a party that was pretty much open to all students. He hadn’t invited you directly, but made sure to state very clearly that you were always welcomed if you wanted to stop by for a bit. 

You almost laughed at his words, he was a little delusional if he though you’d like the spend the night with your drunk ex who’d probably be making out with a girl the whole time. He was a little sad when you told him you probably wouldn’t come, but he understood, especially after whatever Luca had said to you last week. 

Weirdly enough though, as the clock hit seven at night, you were standing in your bathroom, getting ready for said party. Why? Revenge. You knew deep down what you were about to do was fucked up, but you didn’t care. They deserved it, all of them, Luca more than the other, but they still did. All those people who pretended to be your friend, only to act like you didn’t even exist the moment you and Luca broke up. Not to mention that conversation you over heard was constantly replaying in your head since your break-up. Yeah, they deserved it. 

Realistically, your plan wasn’t that mean, you’d just be ruining a night celebrating a victory they had worked so hard for during  the whole season. You had gotten some information through Adam that the boys always “shit talked” some of the other girlfriends, of course without mentioning what you had heard from them. Long story short, at least one of them all had a problem with someone’s girlfriend, but they never said anything to the boyfriends. Pretty fake in your opinion, because truth be told, they weren’t really brothers like they always said, they didn’t like some at least. 

When you walked into the senior house, the place wasn’t that full, but this wasn’t any surprise to you considering it had started almost four hours ago already and most people had probably went home by now. Finding Adam was pretty easy, he was in the kitchen refilling his cup when you gently tapped his shoulder. A wide smile appeared on his face when his eyes met yours and his arms quickly wrapped around your waist. 

“You came?” He asked surprised as the two of you pulled away and he grabbed an empty clean cup for you. 

“Got a little bored, I guess.” You told him, filling your cup with water. You hadn’t came here to get drunk out of your mind like all the others here, you came here with an endgame. 

“Well ‘m glad you did. I think I saw that girl you always talk about from your English class, you-” 

“Cool, I’ll go find her!” You lied before walking away from him. Honestly, you didn’t really care that she was here, your eyes not bothering to find her as you walked through the house, spotting the group of girlfriends immediately. They were all chatting between them, but quickly stopped when they realized you were standing there. 

“Oh, please, don’t let my presence disturb your little conversation.” You said with a smirk, only making all of them look at you with weird looks. 

“What’re you doing here?” Ethan’s girlfriend, Hailey, asked. The two of you were never really close, same with Nolan’s girlfriend, Taylor. 

“I just really wanted to say how it’s so cute that you’re all able to be friends with each other and like one another, unlike all the guys. Real cute.” 

“The fuck does that mean?” This time it was Jacob’s girlfriend, Bianca, who spoke. You looked over at her, sending a massive grin before answering. 

“I am just saying, some of them are real good at pretending to be your friends, but then go shit talk about you to each other.” You said, before showing them the text message Adam had sent you. It clearly stated that they all talked about the other guys’ girlfriends badly, but never in front of whoever they were dating. Clearly just showing that they’re “we’re brothers” thing they’d always say whenever a new girlfriend was introduced was complete bullshit. 

“How do we know it’s not fake?” 

“It happened to me too. Heard a couple of them talking about me outside one night. Go ask your boyfriends if you don’t believe me.” You shrugged before walking away from them. A smirk was plastered on your face as you stood outside, sipping on your water, knowing the girls were confronting the boys at the same moment. 

You were standing outside for a couple of minutes before Adam joined you, giving you a stern look.

“What’d you do?” 

“Nothing.” You said, your smirk only growing as you looked inside, the house now empty of all the strangers. The only people left were the players and their girlfriends, who all looked like they were not having a pleasant conversation. Well, that was until all the guys started yelling at each other. 

“Y/n.” Adam mumbled sternly, making you roll your eyes. 

“I just told them the truth. About how you all talk shit about them behind their backs, but then none of you have the guts to say it to each other. I mean, why would they right, you couldn’t tell me or Luca.” Suddenly, you found yourself angry at the boy in front of you. He had let both you and Luca that your couple was loved by all of them, let you believe they were all your friends. His face turned white at your words, only making you scoff. 

“Y/n…”

“It’s pathetic really, all that bullshit about you guys being like brothers, but then you pull some shit like this.” You cut him off. Right as Adam was about to say something else, the sliding door behind you opened and your body was pulled inside the house.

Forgive and I forget

I know my age and I act like it

Got what you can’t resist

I’m a perfect all-American Bitch

With perfect all-American lips

And perfect all-American hips

I know my place

I know my place and this is it

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Someone asked as you now stood infront of everyone, all the guys looking at you with angry eyes, while the girls all hugged each other, some of them crying. 

“I think the real question here is, what the fuck is wrong with all of you? Talk shit behind our backs and then acting like your our friends five minutes later. If you don’t like someone, don’t fucking pretend like you do and then shit talk them when they can hear you.” You spat, your eyes looking between all of them until you spotted Luca, who was standing all alone in a corner. “Hoping that your “brother’s” goes to shit ‘cause you don’t like who they’re dating. Seriously, how old are you? How insecure of yourself do you have to be to say things like this?” 

The house was silent after, all the girls were nodding at your words. The boys, well at least the guilty ones, all looked at the ground, while the innocent ones looked angry and pissed, but not at you anymore, at each other. 

When none of them said anything for a solid minutes, you just scoffed and made your way out of the house. You had done what you came here to do. You started walking down the sidewalk, back towards your dorm, when you heard someone call out your name. You turned around, only to see Luca chasing after you. 

“I didn’t know, I swear-” 

“I know you didn’t, Luca.” You cut him off with a soft smile. 

“I didn’t break up with you because of them. I really like you, I really do. You’re amazing, Y/n. But, I just… I don’t want a relationship right now.” He explained, your smile turning into a sad one. 

“I get it. I want you to be happy, Lu, and if that means us not being together, then I’m okay with it.” It pained you to say it, but it was true. All you wanted for the boy was to be happy, and if that meant you having to leave his life, you were okay with it. 

“‘M not saying never, though. The way I feel about you, I’ve never felt this way for anyone before. Like… I don’t how to explain it-”

“Right person, wrong time?” You asked with a slight smirk on his face, making the boy in front of you smile slightly. 

“Yeah.” 

“Let me know whenever the right time comes, yeah?” You asked softly, the boy nodding slightly before resting his forehead against yours. 

“I’m sorry about how I broke up with you, you deserved a better explanation.” He whispered, closing his eyes as he let his body relax. Your right hand moved up, cupping his cheek and you could feel him lean into your touch. 

“It’s okay, Lulu.” 

“But it’s not. I shouldn’t… I shouldn’t have done it that way. And I shouldn’t have came to your car and talked to you like that. I am so sorry, baby.” He said, as snow started falling from the sky. You could tell how deeply he meant his words, his voice cracking slightly. 

“Hey, look at me.” You whispered, gently tapping his cheek that you were still holding. After a couple of seconds his eyes opened and stared right back at yours. “It’s okay. It’s in the past.”

“You should hate me.” 

“I don’t think I could ever hate you, Luca.” You admitted, bitting your lip gently as the boy smiled down at you. “I really need to go home.” 

“I’ll walk you.” 

“It’s alright. I think they need you more than I do.” You said, nodding towards the senior house, making Luca sigh a bit. 

“Always have to clean up your mess, don’t I?” He joked, making you giggle slightly. 

“I’ll see you around, Lu.” You mumbled before pressing a kiss to his other cheek and walking away from him. The Fantili boy stood there for a bit, a smile on his face as he watched you make your way back to your dorm. Once you disappeared at the end of the street, the boy turned around and slowly started making his way back to the house. 

When he walked in, all the girls were gone, and the boys were now just all yelling at each other. Some were trying to calm the tension that was rising in the room, but didn’t succeed. Only, when Luca walked in, the room went quiet and everyone looked at him. Luca’s eyes found Adam’s, and the younger boy immediately knew what had happened out there, well almost. He for sure thought they had gotten back together, but he was close enough. 

“God, don’t tell me you got back with her?” Johnny said harshly, making Luca’s smile flatten as he looked over to his “best friend”. 

“Why do you care? Last time I check, who I date isn’t any of your business.” Luca sassed, making his younger brother smile slightly. 

“She ruined the night!” One of the guys called out, making Luca roll his eyes. 

“She said the truth. Maybe if you guys hadn’t talked behind their backs, none of this would’ve happened. I’m going home.” The boy mumbled before leaving the senior household once again, Adam following behind him. 

“So, are you guys back together?” The forward asked after a couple of minutes of them walking back to their dorm. 

“No. But, in the future we will, I know it.”

All the time

I’m grateful all the time

I’m sexy and I’m kind

I’m pretty when I cry

Oh, all the time

I’m grateful all the time (Greatful all the fucking time)

I’m sexy and I’m kind

I’m pretty when I cry

When summer came around, you had promised both Fantili boys you’d keep close touch with them, especially Adam since he’d be heading off to Columbus next season, which pained you a little, but you were happy for him. 

As the months passed by, you and Luca talked more and more every day, something Adam noticed and was quick to bring up to his brother. Luca was smiling at his phone all the time, and overall was just in a better mood than when you two had broken up. The older brother shrugged him off, claiming he was imaginating things, but they both knew it was a lie. 

You were over the moon when you arrived in Michigan, only to find that both brothers were already there, and a time to meet was quickly set. During your little hang out, it was clear to Adam that you and Luca were truly meant to be together, you both had giant smiles whenever you’d be talking to the other. For a majority of the night, it was mainly just the two of you in your own little world, but Adam didn’t care, Luca was happy, you were happy, and that’s all that mattered to him. 

“Don’t fuck this up, dude.” Adam whispered in his brother’s ear as the two of them hugged goodbye. Luca had admitted to him that he was planning on asking you out soon, something that almost made the younger boy scream. 

“I won’t.” And he didn’t. He asked you out, again, and you said yes, again, a week later. The two of you were just hanging in your dorm, you were complaining about how much homework you already had when he just blurred the question out. You were a little shock, but quickly agreed. 

When Luca told his teammates the two of you were back together, he received some questioning looks, but he just ignored them. He thought you were perfect, and that’s all that mattered to him. He didn’t care if his friends didn’t like you, he did and they’d need to learn how to deal with you being around even if they didn’t like you. 

You made him happy, and that’s all they should care about.

[johnwickb1tsch]

bittersweet ~ a yandere!John Wick x fem!reader sunshine/grump coffee shop AU... Part 15 all chapters

AUTHOR'S WARNINGS: N$FW, SEXUAL CONTENT, COPIOUS SWEARING

-You wake with a pounding head, and total uncertainty if your adventure the night before had all been a dream.

Did John actually tie you up with his belt? And did you beg like a hungry little kitten for his cock?

And he didn’t give it to you?

Jesus fucking Christ.

You know you’d sensed all along that there was something dark swimming beneath the surface in Mr. Wick, but you’re not quite sure this was what you expected.

You look down at the little purple bruise on the inside of your thigh, and you know it had all been real.

A hot flood of embarrassment fills you as you remember more from the night before. You are mortified, and frankly, a little scared. You’re not sure you can actually handle a man with tastes like Mr. Wick’s, and you also know that once you’re in his company again you won’t be able to think anything through, or frankly, deny him anything he wants.

He has this drug-like effect on you. You would like to blame the wine for the night before, but deep down, you know that mostly it was just hunger.

You could easily forget who you really are, caught up in the web of a man like John.

The first hint of morning light is peeking over the rooftops. You know that if you are going to make your escape, this is undoubtedly your best opportunity. You tie back on your shoes, preparing yourself for the worst walk of shame you’ve ever endured. Even with your new found flexibility, you are only able to get the zipper of your dress half up your back.

Motherfucker.

The morning concierge gives you a knowing look as you walk through the lobby, and you narrowly resist the urge to flip him off.

How ironic, that the day that you want to flee this beautiful city with your tail tucked between your legs, is the day you finally seem to get your bearings. You make your way back to your hostel, taking off your platforms and carrying them half way. When an early morning wanderer tries to hit on you, you finally snap, yelling at him in a mixture of English, Spanish, and broken Italian, so furious that he’s actually the one who flees. You catch the word pazza, which you think means crazy.

He has no idea.

When you get back to the hostel, hallelujah if the fucking door isn’t unlocked this fine morning. How novel.

Your beautiful dress is wrinkled from sleeping in it. You hang it up anyway, and hope no one steals it. You pound two Aleve from your toiletry bag with some stale water, and think a hot shower might fix some of your ills.

Too bad the water heater is only set to tepid. You wash away the grime, but not your anxieties.

You go to breakfast, completely stuck in your own head, when you hear, “Y/n?”

You look up to see Javi sitting at one of the tables with a cornetto and a cup of the weak coffee the hostel provides for free.

You offer him a tired smile and sit down across from him.

“Are you alright?” he asks, and it’s a little touching that he knows you so well after only a short time in his company.

“I’m fine,” you lie. “I had a…weird night.”

That’s when Kelsey, the Australian girl who helped you with your zipper the night before, saunters up with a shit eating grin. “There she is. Noticed you didn’t come home last night. How was your date?”

“It was…something,” you answer with what you know isn’t a convincing smile. “I’m tired,” you try to cover.

Javi is still looking at you, like he doesn’t believe any of what you’re saying.

Knowing you will not be able to process any of what just happened to you in the boisterous bustle of the backpacker hostel, you eat a quick bite and rise. “Think I’m going for a walk,” you say.

“I’ll join you,” offers Javi, and you can’t figure out how to say no without hurting his feelings.

You walk out the front door together, chatting about something silly. He manages to make you laugh, until you look across the street. Your mirth dies like a bird struck with a stone.

John is there, leaning against the building like a tall dark omen, and he does not look happy. He stalks over to you, giving Javi a forbidding look before turning to you.

“You shouldn’t have run off like that. I was worried.” There is something chilling in his tone. It reminds you a bit of the way he’d scolded Brian that one day, but times ten. Somehow, his teeth seem sharper in this tense moment in the buttery Venice sunlight. 

 “I’m a big girl, John.”

John glares at Javi again, but the younger man stubbornly stays at your side, not taking the hint. “We need to talk,” says John, taking your elbow.

“You don’t have to go with him,” says Javi with a frown, grasping your other arm. You feel like you’re stuck between two dogs with a bone, and it’s too much.

“Both of you, let go of me,” you snap.

Miraculously, this does the trick, though goddamn if there isn’t something like murder glinting in John’s eyes as he does it.

If you weren’t in public on a crowded street, you have a feeling it wouldn’t have worked at all.

“I am going for a walk. Alone. Thank you, Javi, you’re very sweet. John, should I choose to talk to you, I know where you’re staying.”

You turn on your heel, and flee down the street.  

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

what I meant by my post about the boys not appreciating Yuu enough is about the trauma they inflicted on them and the lack of compensation we get because trauma=not guilty.

We just let them get away scott free without them facing serious consequences and get little to nothing in return. I got inspired by this post https://rose-tea-and-strawberries.tumblr.com/post/720285231576465408/justiceforyuu

So what are your thoughts on this?

[Referencing this post!]

Mmm… 🤔 While I do think the post linked is an interesting read (and OP does make valid points), I think a lot of it goes back to the nature of TWST’s design vs what the individual desires. It’s very easy to self-insert (meaning everyone’s mileage with the characters and plot will vary greatly), and with it being a mobile gacha game, there are definitely some limitations and design philosophies that must be adhered to in order to keep content flowing and thus keep the game profitable.

However, I don’t agree with some of the points suggested (whether by OP or by Anon), particularly that TWST presents “trauma = not guilty” and that Yuu should somehow be “compensated” or given something in return for the troubles they went through. To the former point, I completely agree that the boys’ punishments are far too light for what they’ve done (in OB form). As for their behavior pre-OB (which is, admittedly, still shitty)… I mean, we came into this game knowing the characters are twisted from villains, of all things. We shouldn’t be expecting them to be Super Nice and Empathetic to begin with, no? (So of course Riddle will be insulting Yuu’s background and lineage, Trey’s a bystander, etc.) It doesn’t excuse the behavior of course (it’s still objectively bad), but I thought we came into TWST expecting it??? Like it’s a major part of the draw…

I also believe TWST does a decent job at explaining the OB boys’ trauma while not excusing them because of their trauma; funnily enough, a major theme in book 1 was Riddle being held accountable for his actions for once. (This isn’t limited to just his OB behavior, but rather extends to prior; he was clearly harming his own dorm members well before Yuu got involved with Heartslabyul.) The OB boys were eventually punished for their actions, but because the sentences are relatively light, that’s perhaps where the “trauma = not guilty” perception of the fandom comes from. As I said before though, I think this can easily be attributed to TWST being constrained by the mobile game format (ie it has to be snappy); the light novel is able to expand on the consequences in greater detail.

The game devs likely don’t want to linger on how badly the OB boys truly acted because that could hamper their bottom line (ie endearing the characters to us enough so we sympathize with them and spend money). If they keep demonizing the boys or continuously bring up their literal murder attempts when they were fully lucid and aware of themselves (Leona almost sanding Ruggie, Vil trying to poison Neige), it looks “too” bad on the characters’ part. We also can’t haul the boys off to serious rehabilitation facilities because they need to be physically present to return for the subsequent book—and, of course. You can say “they didn’t get punished severely enough”, sure. But what exactly would that “more severe punishment” being called for entail, especially without disrupting the current story’s flow and not harming the OB boys further in the process? There are practical real world game design and business reasons for this.

To address the Yuu should somehow be “compensated” part, well… I’m not entirely sure if I understand it?? Thinking about it logically, what “compensation” are we looking for? Firstly, no compensation, in my opinion, is worth the anguish that “earned” it in the first place. Compensation will never make up for the mental scars 😔 Secondly, it implies that people are “owed” something for the general bad attitudes they’re given on a daily basis, which is not in any way how real interactions work. Some people will just be assholes to you, and we have to deal with it and move on. In the cases of the OBs and some events (like being kidnapped and basically held hostage in book 4), yes, those are much more serious and should be treated as such. But again, what exactly are we looking for here as “proper” compensation? Is acknowledging one’s faults and mistakes, and saying sorry for it and working toward being “better” not enough? What about the money Vil gives in book 5; is that also not enough? Where do we draw the line? When is it finally “enough” compensation? It’s so poorly defined and there’s no “blanket” compensation that would satisfy everyone and anyone 💦 I would personally be happy just knowing that the other person is aware they’ve done wrong and are taking that vital first step to changing. That’s very difficult to do, especially considering the pride of the average NRC student, so I commend them for at least doing that.

TWST’s story isn’t one that focuses on condemning people for their flaws and errors, but giving them a chance to recognize their wrongs and to grow from them. Its story promotes restorative justice over punitive justice. Overly punishing measures and reparations have proven to not smooth over “bad behavior” in real life; it’s something people need to consciously and actively work toward, so of course it’s going to be a hard process.

The reaction(s) Yuu has to the events going on around them are only as serious as individual fan interpretation makes them out to be. Official depictions thus far (manga, game, light novel) have not strongly indicated that Yuu has had any extremely adverse thoughts or feelings regarding the treatment they’ve experienced at the hands of their peers or any stress related to not being returned home. It’s also not clear (especially in the game) just how much physical involvement Yuu has in battles. Because TWST itself does not frame or portray these events as having super serious impacts on Yuu, that also informs the fans that absorb this content (so they, in turn, will usually also not take the story’s impact on Yuu all that seriously).

The interactive medium of the game (which is the main form people absorb TWST content by) plays such a crucial role in how Yuu is portrayed. Because Yuu is so inherently tied to being the player’s avatar/self-insert, there are limitations to the overt nastiness Yuu takes and their involvement. The manga and the light novel feature new versions of Yuu, yes, but these interpretations are wholly separate from Yuu (the game one). The manga and light novel Yuus can be treated as their own characters and not self insert vehicles, therefore there is a degree of separation between the player and the manga and light novel Yuus. This is why the manga Yuus are more shown to be more active in the story (most notably getting involved in battles). This is why the light novel Yuu is shown receiving more bullying (from mob students) than is depicted in the game. The manga and light novel are NOT interactive mediums, and they don’t have to worry about potentially alienating or offending players who self insert as the game Yuu. Game Yuu is intentionally kept vague for this reason; we aren’t necessarily meant to interpret that game Yuu gets as involved or is treated as harshly as what other mediums depict.

I really don’t think we (the audience) are meant to interpret most of the things (game) Yuu experiences as being deeply traumatic or scarring. In most instances, Yuu is either ignored or they act very nonchalant about what’s happening (groaning or joking about how “oh, not this again!”). The worst injury I can recall Yuu ever getting is when Grim scratches them at the end of book 5. They barely even ever bring up going home or the worry of not being able to get home (not counting very early and very late in the main story when it is plot relevant, or the occasional event story to shoehorn Yuu’s presence in). The game in particular glosses over any potential negative ramifications on Yuu’s part because endearing the boys (who often are Not Nice) to the player is an important component of the gacha model. You can’t have the players despising the characters because that doesn’t encourage spending money to roll for them on banners or to throw money at merch.

I also want to add that many people make Yuusonas to have fun and to escape into a magical world (which is likely reflected in the nonchalance Yuu demonstrates toward going home for most of the story); it’s far more common to see these lighthearted takes because I can’t imagine many people want to self-insert being deeply traumatized by the same magical boys they’re likely big fans of. If you personally want to make or to see a Yuu that becomes traumatized and jaded from what happens during their time in Twisted Wonderland, then yeah! Go for it! All the more power to you. Just remember that this isn’t a universal take.

All of that being said, we come back to something I’ve said time and time again: since Yuu is such a blank slate, you get out of it what you put into it. This means every person’s individual interpretation of the events and how Yuu engages with and reacts to those events may differ wildly. It’s all in good fun, just try to be cognizant of canon vs fanon, as well as others (who may have very different interpretations of the same events and characters).

[5tar-5hin3]

⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹

John Dory x Reader

“A Chance He Can Take”

Part 1 : “An Unlikely Beginning”

Part 2: “And an Unexpected Ending”

⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹

Synopsis:

JD left a long time ago. A long, long time again.

Now he lives alone in the mountains. That is until 1 turns into 2.

He meets another troll.

This one isn’t like anyone he’s ever met before. They’re… different. They hang around for a while and, well, let’s just say they get friendly.

Words: 1,320

⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹

A/N:

In this story, John Dory wholly believes his brothers failed him and they left him when the didn’t make the perfect family harmony.

He doesn’t believe he left. He believes he had to leave because they weren’t good enough for him. So he’s twisted the story to make it look better on him. He’s a little quirky, but we can fix him. 🫶

⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹

*5 Years Before*

John was hiking the mountains when he came across something unexpected. Another troll. One similar to him.

They were walking with a small cuddle pup. They were happily hiking the opposite way on the trail. He hadn’t seen anyone for years. This was new to him.

“Hey.” He started the interaction. It startled the other troll. They looked around to see if he meant someone else. Even though rarely anyone trailed this far.

“Oh hey!” They laughed awkwardly. “I’ve never seen another troll up here.”

“Me either.” He agreed with them. “What bring you up all alone?”

“I just needed time away from my family. You know how it is.”

They had no idea how much John Dory under stood that.

They shrugged as she met the other finally. “Name’s Y/N, by the way.” They held out their hand for the other to shake.

The fact he wasn’t immediately recognized was both shocking and relieving to John Dory. Maybe it was for the best that people didn’t remember’BroZone’ anymore.

“You are?” John had left Y/N hanging.

“Sorry,” he grabbed their hand. “I’m-“ he hadn’t gotten this far. Should he say his real name or make a fake one? “JD.”

“Nice to meet you JD.” They smiled brightly. “I best get going now. I have to set up before sun down. Don’t want those nasty critters after my cuddle pup.” John looked down at the small fluffy creature. “Her name is Ruby.”

“You could always camp out with me. I’ve got plenty of room for a guest. It’s probably easier than a tent too. I don’t mean to brag but I do have an armadillo bus.” John was happy to offer his place to them. That meant more company for him.

“Uhh- I don’t know. I think I’d feel more comfortable in my own space.” They politely declined.

“That’s totally fair. Feel free to set up around me though. Never know when you could use a helping hand.” With that, they parted ways.

It wasn’t until much later, when John came back, that he saw a small f/c tent pitched next to his bus. They had taken up one of his offers at the very least. He didn’t bother them, simply minded his own.

It stayed like that for sometime. Y/N would come and go. The first few times they took their tent. But after a while they stopped taking the tent down and left it next to John’s bus.

In between each visit, y/n and John would talk. They slowly grew accustomed to the other. Got used to routines, got used to style. They even started doing thing together, like going for morning runs or hiking.

Since y/n was the only on connected to the “outside world”, they often kept John up to date with troll events. Or the ones that he needed to know the most about. John was actually starting to- he didn’t know how to say it. He was getting a crush? He liked y/n in a way he hadn’t liked anyone else.

Then one day, after coming back from a hike, their tent was gone. He wasn’t worried at first. Y/n was sure to be back tomorrow. They always were. Until they didn’t show up the next day. Or the next. Soon, weeks passed and there was no sign of them. John began to work just a bit.

A month and a half passed before y/n showed up again.

“Y/n!” John happily announced when he saw them. How he missed their company.

“JD!” They smiled at the other. Ruby seemed as happy as ever to see John again. She was happily pouncing at his feet and barking for attention. “Sorry I disappeared on you- family stuff.” They shrugged it off. “I’m back now though, so no worries.” John could see their pack was lighter than before. There was no tent.

John picked the pup up and pet her. “You’re fine. I’ve been up here by myself longer than you can imagine. It was nothing. No tent this time?” John commented. He raised his eyebrow, a bit curious.

“Oh, yeah. I figured, if the offer still stands, that you had room for a guest.” Y/n shyly smiled, a soft blush across their cheeks and on the tips of their ears.

“The offer does stand.” He smiled and set the pup down. “Wanna come inside? Check out the great abode of JD?” He teased.

“I’ll follow you.” Y/n followed John as he went into the bus. It was quite cozy. Nothing like what they expected. “It’s nice.” It seemed almost rustic. It had charm. It was a bit messy, but hey, what can you do?

“Thanks, decorated myself.” He laughed. Y/n set their belongings down next to the door and admired the space.

“You did a good job.” They smiled. “Oh, that reminds me. I found the other glove you said you lost.” They pulled it out of their pocket.

“Wow, I’m impressed. Keep it.” John shrugged. “I’ve gotten used to the one glove. It’s a look now.” Y/n pulled the glove on. It looked quite good actually.

The pair hung out almost everyday after that. Y/n still left occasionally, especially for holidays. They always invited John. He always denied. He liked the solitude.

Y/n basically lived on John’s couch other than that. They cooked and cleaned, he went out and gathered stuff. They were basically a couple, without all that couple stuff.

*A year later*

Y/n was up before John, like they always were. They made his coffee and breakfast. They went out and fed Rhonda then Ruby. The usual. John was up a little afterwards.

“Good morning JD.” Y/n didn’t even raise their head to greet the other. He jumped down from his loft. That’s how they knew he was up.

Today, JD decided he want to be bold. He came up behind them and wrapped his arms around them.

When they started staying with him, they didn’t have a lot of clothes. So they borrowed his often. They were wearing his shirt and it hung down to their mid thigh. It drove him wild.

Y/n wasn’t fazed. They knew it was only a matter of time before one of them made a move. They had a crush on John and they made it obvious. They hummed happily. “Good morning JD.” They repeated.

“Good morning.” He teased. They giggled. “How’d you sleep?”

“About as good as I can with you snoring.” They joked. John didn’t snore, but they always joked he did. He laughed.

“Whatever you say.” He rolled his eyes. He let them go and took his coffee. “You know, you could always sleep in the bed. The couch can’t be that comfortable.” Y/n shook their head.

“It’s not, but I take what I can get.”

“Well, I’m offering my bed. So.”

“Fine, fine.” They laughed. “You could just say you were lonely.”

“Lonely? Lonely? Ha. I’m not lonely, who said I was lonely?” He looked around nervously.

“You’re running behind schedule JD.” They kissed his cheek. “Get dressed and get out there. Ruby is waiting for her walk.”

Y/n walked away to go change back into their everyday clothes as John was left speechless.

He laughed at the interaction before getting changed into his hiking clothes. He went out to hike with Ruby. Y/n stayed behind and cleaned up their mess.

Y/n considered this the ‘start’ of their relationship. They never ‘officially’ stated they were together. But y/n just assumed they were a couple. This would prove to be… not quite the case.

4 years passed and it stayed the same. Y/n did the cleaning and cooking. JD went out. They stayed in this ‘relationship’ for 4 years.

JD got a letter one day, which was weird since they were in the middle of no where. Y/n had opened it. Their morbid curiosity got to them.

They’d regret opening that letter.

⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹

AHHH!! That was so many words holy- I’m working on a part 2 as we speak! I just really wanted to get the first part out! I hope you guys liked it. This is my return to fanfiction. I haven’t written anything serious since 2019- what a time jump.