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solestixx · 10 months ago

Text

1- lukas matsson x reader

word count ≈ 6600

warning: smut and mid writing

____

“Ken- you know this isn’t my scene.” Your voice goes quiet, simply just peering at your brother, anxious for his reaction.

He’s been a bit of a pain in the ass lately, the whole family was a pain in your ass lately, but perhaps it was always this way. The Roy family created chaos and unnecessary drama, that was a given. It was something you tried to detach yourself from; the business, the craze, the constant chatter– it all drained you. From the moment you were born, it was as if your family was screaming from all sides whether it be Roman and Shiv fighting over shit all, or your dad blowing up in your faces.

You always knew that you didn’t fit into the puzzle. You were born a little bit too late, grew up with faint glances of your older siblings, and dismissed like the baby you were. Maybe that was the reason you never considered joining Waystar, or perhaps why a place was never offered.

Your dad was your dad, perpetually disappointed in you – while at the same time maintaining that you were his favourite. You all knew it was Shiv, but the very fact he insisted that it was you made you villain number one to your siblings.

So there you were, their little sister who was a fucking writer, twiddling with your ungroomed thumbs, waiting for your family to forget who you were. That being said, it was a surprise when you opened your email to find a very flashy invite to Kendall’s 40th. You didn’t think that your brother would want what he perceived as his Debbie Downer boring little sister at his grandiose douche fest.

“Come the fuck on, it’s my party, Bambi, cheer up, enjoy yourself for once,” Kendall says. “Come on, I’ll take you somewhere special.” As he’s about to leave, you stop him, placing a hand on his arm.

“Wait, Ken. I have a gift for you.” You hand him an envelope, “I didn’t want it getting lost in the mix.”

Kendall stops with his buzzing, which is probably coke-induced and takes the envelope from your hands. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” you sigh as you watch your brother tuck the envelope into his coat.

He quickly puts a hand on your shoulder before he starts to navigate you around, waving and fistbumping his friends walking by. As quickly as you had gained Kendall’s attention, it faded away from you, as he yelled over at his assistant who seemed new, but you weren’t around enough to know. “Yo! Comfrey, ship up my little sis to the treehouse.”

His assistant – Comfrey, who you knew had definitely been speed walking away from her boss before he hollered out at her – whipped her head towards the both of you. You were the odd couple, Kendall’s glazed over eyes and dopey smile mixed with your grimacing under his touch. “Coming!”

Kendall gives you a pat on the head– a move he often did in childhood, his eyes dead as always as he gives you a good-enough smirk, “You should avoid the other sibs, they’re strictly business right now – serious work only.”

You smile at his unconscious insinuation. You weren't a serious person to them. You weren’t anything you guessed, “Have fun, okay Ken? And try not to be a complete dick tonight,” you ask before Comfrey pulls me away and Kendall saunters off.

You watch your brother from the corner of your eyes, and quickly try to keep up with the bouncing ponytail of his young assistant. The hollowness in your chest that used to exist – that there would be ten years ago – had disappeared now, you were completely okay with the empty promises and empty phrases.

It’s what you grew up on. Raised in the top two floors of the highest buildings in New York, the Scottish highlands with your father’s forgotten castles, or in sprawling ranches in the middle of nowhere for tax purposes. At least that was the childhood you had with the Logan Roy experience.

After Uncle Ewan’s wife passed away, when you went to her funeral with your whole family, Dad decided that he’d leave his youngest with his brother to build your character. Your siblings were already almost in college and you were, well, the youngest and still complaining about multiplication and school field trips. So, from then on, you distanced yourself. Not entirely by your own volition, but every decision after was. And you prayed that every decision following would be as well.

As you try to keep pace with the taller woman, “So Comfrey, how’d you become Kendall’s assistant?”

The woman turns around for a second to get a glance at the youngest Roy, she presses her lips together before curtly responding, “I’m his PR rep.”

All you do is hum in understanding, she was a PR rep that was running around like a low-level worker bee trying to satiate her older brother. It was like all people in their lives.

You pass by the flashing lights, tall glass windows, and strange art installations, not so much admiring them, more like begging to just dissolve into the floor. To melt like the witch in the Wizard of Oz would be your opus, your ooey-gooey pile of person simply having a hard time leaching onto the rich person floors.

When you spot the all-too-familiar treehouse you wince. It seemed that Kendall’s childhood trauma manifested in an exuberant part of his fortieth birthday party. “This is Kendall’s little sister, she’s cool.” Comfrey motions the guards behind her, as you stand awkwardly – it looked like they needed visible confirmation you were you? It took them a second for their heads to look at your orientation.

While they make way for you, opening up the roped fence, you thank Comfrey, then watch her scatter away, and hurry away probably to clean up Kendall’s inevitable fuck-ups.

She was nice enough, you guessed; could be worse.

You wandered through the treehouse with no purpose, staring at the tree trunk columns that looked borderline tacky and its leaf-casted shadows on the walls. You weren’t alone in the room, no there was a boatload of Kendall’s rager hedge fund friends, or celebrities whose faces you remember enough to dart away from – but still, you were alone. You felt eyes on you, people knew that you were a Roy, but eyes don’t give you company.

The space was large enough to walk around for a few minutes, but eventually, you assumed you just looked out-of-place. Pacing around like a failed dracula, circling his already knowing victims. So you resigned yourself to a couch near a wall, praying that nobody approaches you. At least you wouldn’t be sneak-attacked from the back. That was your worst fucking nightmare – a hand on your back and a networking LinkedIn smiley techie.

Leaning into the couch’s thin leather you try to get comfortable. The lights were bright enough you hoped, to not ‘ruin the vibe’ with your phone’s obnoxiously bright screen. Staring at your home screen, you forget any work that you had to do – literally nothing of importance that would make you look like you were doing something. Yes, you were writing a screenplay right now, which would be a good thing to work on if you could concentrate in the noisy fucking room. So you just went on Candy Crush, your finger languidly swiping your high school iPhone wanting to shoot yourself.

You spent an adequate amount of time doing that, getting cozy enough to tuck your feet under your body and let your hair out from the bun it was in. It felt okay, you still wanted to go home, but you were waiting until at least ten percent of the crowd was gone so Kendall wouldn’t get prissy.

But you couldn’t keep the peace, of course, you couldn’t. Because there Kendall comes into the room, not looking for you, but for a man sitting on one of the benches in the middle of the party.

“There he is!” You internally shrink, like a deflated balloon as your brother approaches. You hide like you were habitually doing as a child, trying to dart off from where you were oh-so comfortable. You hear Kendall saying some other bullshit which you tune out in your panic, but as you’re set to leave he calls out your name.

“Bambs!” He turns to the man next to him, “This is my sister– she isn’t a vulture like the other ones, don't worry about that.” He looks back at you, then at the man again, “She’ll take care of you, they avoid her like a fucking plague.”

“Really nice, Ken,” you say, walking towards them reluctantly, resigning to sit next to the blonde man. He was tired-looking with hardly-noticeable but still visible rings underneath his eyes, a small smirk of interest on his face as he doesn’t shuffle to give you space, instead moving closer to you.

Kendall leaves, for a reason you are unsure of. You try to stare in his retreating direction as you feel the stranger’s hot eyes on you. You couldn’t read this guy, he seemed like a regular dude at first glance and to your relief he didn’t seem crazed in the eyes or serial-rapey.

“You’re the youngest one, aren’t you? The recluse?” he asks, his accent isn’t American, it was something Nordic – you hadn’t met many of them in your life.

You turn towards him, to be polite of course, although your body tries to twist awkwardly, making sure he isn’t too close, “Good use of deduction.” He’s attractive, vaguely familiar like everyone in the room, obviously important to your brother, but you still have no fucking clue who he is. “And you’re? One of my brother’s friends?”

He smirks, laying back on a column behind him, “Yeah, we’re best buddies, like peas and a pod.”

“No name?” He laughs, like he was in disbelief that you didn’t know who he was, “I like this, I’ll be your mystery man, hmm?” He leans further towards you, raising his eyebrows – the lack of space making your face hot.

You try to escape any feelings of chagrin, crossing your legs, and staring into his eyes which felt like it was more of his soul. Who was this fucking dude? “A mystery man in my childhood treehouse, you’re sounding like a pedophile to me…”

He nods as though he agrees, laughing, “You have a history in this, I assume, with your family.” Oh yes, Uncle Mo. “What do you do? The tabloids say… writer?”

A part of you feels insecure in your lack of knowledge about him. He knows your occupation, your name, and would probably be able to trace your life back to childhood through the internet, while you sat here like prey for his predator. All in his casual clothing and wolfish smile.

“Yes, some screenwriting, some things more authorial, enough to get by.”

It seemed like the idea of ‘getting by’ was amusing to him as he smiled when you said that. Almost as if he was in disbelief that a Roy would ever need to make enough to get by. Maybe he was older money, maybe he grew up in a big castle like you, a prince or something… your mother had always had people like that over when you were young. It was funny, the old aristocrats with their wine and screaming kids. No he wasn’t old money... his whole being read new. New money. New power.

“You dress like you write children’s books, like a sexy-librarian-kindergarten teacher – it’s hot, if I dare-say,” he says. You can feel him looking her up and down and she doesn’t know if you hate it or like it. You may be leaning to the latter with how lonely you’d been feeling for so long.

You almost roll your eyes, although your face heats up. How long has it been since someone somewhat complimented you? Sure they called your writing good, praised you in those magazines– no journals they called them, but nobody ever looked at you. Even if it was a half-insult.

You did dress conservatively, at least to control the narrative of yourself. Stemming mostly from when the paps took pictures up your skirt as a teenager. They weren’t even decent enough to wait until you were eighteen, the moment the vultures saw that you wore a short-enough skirt they chased you around trying to get a glimpse of the most elusive Roy sibling; the paps were constantly chasing a story, and for the duration of your childhood you were the most interesting part of the billion-piece puzzle belonging to the Roy family.

Without any response, he moves even closer, if that’s humanly possible – your arms pressing up against each other. He was warm, warmer than the stuffy room around the two of you, “Trying to insinuate something, mystery man?”

“Ja, maybe I am,” he says, before leaning close to your face. “Let’s go somewhere more private.” He offers you a hand to get up, which your body wills you to take, but your brain knows logically any man your brother wants to woo is a douche, yet you’d always think with your feelings. He pulls you through the treehouse, walking into more of a secluded room.

You feel people watching you, more than before, more than they would the youngest Roy, but his hand feels so warm in yours, and he was even more attractive standing up. Taller than your smaller stature – you were the shortest of your siblings along with the youngest, the baby. It felt nice walking next to him, it felt safe. But still, it felt almost dangerous.

You breathe out a thank god as the two of you get off of the wooden bench and your butt touches a soft surface again. It’s more secluded than your spot before but like every corner of the party, there were still people around you.

“Not a fan of crowds?” he asks, getting comfortable on the couch and leaning back as you feel his hand rise slowly on your thigh. Like he’s apprehensively confident.

“Is anyone really?” you ask him, he nods slowly, his eyes asking me to go on, “I don’t know why I’m here, maybe just feeling shitty about my family situation, you know? I don't spend much time with them… ever.” You eye the man as he intensely looks back at you – eyefucking you believe it’s called. Oh and his eyes are blue, you’d never noticed that before — remarkably they’re not empty, the soul was still there, at least right now. You have to admit that he��s hot, in this light even more so. His features affirm my suspicions of where he’s from– and as you stare at him even longer you can't quite remember when you’d ever seen a hotter man. “Do you still have no name?”

He grins, looking away, “You’ll know soon enough, won’t you? This is fun for now.”

“The only name I know you by is pedophile, and I don’t think you want people overhearing. Seems like we have eavesdroppers,” you glance over at the small groups of people around you. You assume that they’re small investors, that they probably know Kendall and whatever business he has with the mystery man.

“You’re right, my facial expressions plus my conversation are very relevant to the stock market and usually equals tanking.”

“You talking to me will probably tank it, whatever stock you’re talking about—“ you stop yourself from continuing, would Dad be mad that you were talking to him? “You’re not part of Kendall’s crusade, right? Like my father won’t try and assassinate me for speaking to you?”

It’s almost like he enjoys that notion as he laughs to himself, “Don’t worry about Kendall, your dad hiring a guy maybe, but right now I’m to be courted.” He gestures with his hands – which to you are strangely very animated, “You care about what your dad says, do you?”

You respond nonchalantly, though your hands squirm and you look to the ground, “It’s a constant fuck him, and at the same time I love you, Daddy, I guess. He was shit, is shit, but sometimes he’s not too bad.”

“You call him daddy?”

For the second time today, you feel yourself crawl into your skin, “Oh yeah, when we’re in bed together definitely.”

Mystery man almost giggles at your comment, and there’s something affable about that. He was constantly switching from this serious man to a very unserious one. There was some strange part of this that you liked, you liked the attention the way that he looked at you, the bubble he created around the two of you, the way his hand was increasingly inching.

You think back to the way this night started. You were quite desperate to leave, a bit dampened by the way Kendall accepted your gift, and guilty that you weren't at home taking care of your cat and working. Then you were delivered by this tall Viking man and you were uncomfortably comfortable with the way he made you feel.

“I kind of want to get drunk.”

“I have no qualms with that,” he responds, a grin on his face as you both get up and inch towards the bar, his hand slipping onto your back easily.

The time at the bar was spent in easy conversation, you stand against the wall, with him looming in front of you as you drink together. Him a beer and you a drink with a name you’re unsure of – hating yourself for so much enjoying the tang of the liquified poison.

“Why aren’t you part of your family’s business?”

The way he looks at you… you feel like there’s genuine interest, you look into his eyes and there’s a gleam that scares me. Was he playing with you? Was this a play for your family? You still have no clue who this man is. You let him get too close to yourself, hand on your waist – eyes on yours, too close for a stranger. But you just want to be happy, to feel like you exist again. Not a fly on the wall, the main course.

“You know,” you shrug your shoulders, taking another sip as he just looks at you with a weird facial thing that you don’t quite understand. Like he’s teasing you, but ever so slightly, begging you to spill – which you do. “I’m the baby, y’know – Bambi or whatever.”

He tilts his head back as he absorbs, “Bambi… I like that, you look like a Bambi – the deer right?”

“Yes the deer, they–” I hurriedly take another sip of my drink as I recount the story of my ubiquitous nickname, “Once Dad went hunting and brought me along, we spotted a deer and instead of uh– killing it I kind of ran towards it, while his gun was still aimed. He said that he was about to shoot me like I was a Bambi, he said I was so fast that he almost pulled the trigger while watching me through the scope.”

Mystery man looks at me with wide eyes, “Jesus fuck, that’s a shit thing to say. How old were you?”

“Uh maybe ten, by then my siblings were gone and he visited me where I lived with Uncle Ewan in Canada.”

“What a fucking prick.”

“Yeah.”

You stare at each other for a minute, him in front of you and you below him, you really like his eyes. You break it though, your head was starting to spin from the one drink and he was making it almost worse. “Come on, let’s go sit down, I’m gonna get stumbly.”

Pushing yourself away from the wall, you walk towards an empty space with a few chairs around a table and plop yourself down. Curling into yourself, you can just feel him situating himself next to you.

“You’re a lightweight, aren’t you? You look like one too,” he says, taking a swig of his still-almost-full beer.

You glare up at him as you start dozing off, “I’m gonna nap, you do you, pedophile.”

He guffaws, “Okay, no more pedophile jokes, the press hears and I’m done.”

“I wouldn’t know,” you mutter before tucking your head into your own shoulder.

“I have to ask you something before you nod off.” He seems almost genuine in his words as he furrows his eyebrows and leans towards your chair. You lift yourself ever so slightly showing that you’re listening. “We’ll fuck later right? Like guaranteed?”

You close your eyes again before you can roll them, although a tiny smile slips onto your face – you hope he won’t see it as you bury your face into the back of the lounge chair.

“I saw that grin, I’m going to take that as a yes.”

“Fuck off, asshole.”

“Don’t contradict yourself now.”

You shake your head in mock embarrassment as you go to sleep. Your head was throbbing a bit, and your heart was beating faster – but you realize that you’d forgotten the loud music, and the crowds of people around. You’d forgotten. You’d found solace after so many years looking for it, in the middle of a mock replica of your childhood treehouse.

And this sleep was peaceful for a while, but then a fucking earthquake rumbled you awake.

“What the fuck,” you grunted as you felt hands on your shoulders, your eyes bulge open and you see Roman above you. “Rome, leave me alone, you bitch.”

“Were you trying to seduce Matsson for dad?”

You just roll your eyes, not understanding in your incoherent state what the fuck your brother was talking about – per usual. Looking around you saw that mystery man was gone, and the party was still raging around you. And his name was Matsson? Strange name, but a little bit fitting.

“I have no clue what you’re talking about… why’d you even wake me up, miss me that bad?” you asked, clearly trying to antagonize him with your whiny voice.

Roman with all his pessimism and ass-holery deadpans at you, “Well I’m fuckin’ sorry, you totally missed the six foot tall Viking who was camped out beside your unconscious body?”

“Is that not the point of being unconscious, dumbass?”

“Did you fuck him, Bambi? Were you so fucking tired after fucking him that you had to take a big girl nap?”

“There’s something psychologically wrong with you.”

Roman sits squatting on the top of the chair as he pseudo-interrogates you, “Y’know he didn’t let me fucking wake you up, was that a power play or did you let him do you?”

“Rome, I have no idea who that man was, he just said he was your friend and Ken told me to keep an eye on him.” Half-lying was your thing, you guessed. Your life was full of half-lies, momentary omissions of details, ignoring parts of sentences so you seemed more innocent. That was the life of a youngest child out of five you guessed.

“And since when were you Kendall’s bitch?” “Since he invited me to something, unlike you.”

Roman completely skipped your comment before going off again, “Did he tell you anything, Matsson?”

“Oh yeah, he told me he fucking hates your guts,” you say with a smile, watching your brother getting riled up.

“I’m going to tell Dad that you fucked him if you don’t tell me the truth,” he threatens, it was fun being in this position. You’d so regularly in your childhood been put down by your older siblings, so it was interesting being the one to give it back to them. You finally understood the appeal. Ah, leverage.

You smile as you pretend to recount, a finger to your chin as you mockingly itch it, “Oh he told me that Dad’s an asshole and he has no interest in business with any of you creeps.”

“You’ve seriously been spending too much time with Uncle Looney? You know that right? You sound delusional, completely and utterly gone.”

As you sit up straighter trying to compose yourself, you eye Shiv coming over to where you and Roman sit (although he’s very much standing, pacing, like a lunatic), her hair a mess and her makeup smudged all over. She’d either just had mind blowing sex or something was seriously wrong with her.

You and your sister were strained to say the least. You wanted the idealized big sister who would braid your hair and make you up. The sister who would talk about boys with you and argue with you over stealing her clothes. You guessed Shiv more so wanted to prove herself to Dad – she’d always been his favourite. You were more of an afterthought to her. The kind of afterthought that made you do a double take when you remember that you’d buried it so long ago.

There wasn’t any sentimentality in the title of sister with the two of you. You were just another sibling, and probably her third favourite before Connor. But still, you love her, and you know in the deep recesses of her heart she loves you too. All the siblings love each other, although a strong belief for you was that there were certain dynamics that you were excluded from because of your age and difference in childhood.

“You do you, Roman. Just know that I’m hoping for your business with him to fail, just handing you my two cents.” Business was a strange concept to you, you were always pushed away from it as a child, leading you to know less than nothing about it. At one point you felt like you would go into it, but that too was ripped away from you. So right now, you just wanted to make Roman feel bad. Sure it was wrong to want to churn your brother into pieces, but it felt so good.

“I know you’re a fucking liar, so just like, sit with that, okay?”

“Whatever, Roman.”

Roman ignores your words calling out for Shiv. Shiv runs a finger through straight but frizzy hair before coming to give you a half-hug.

The hug was weird and a little bit detached, but it was something, and it made you feel not instantly uncomfortable, but almost happy. Happy to see your sister again a little bit. “Bambi, it’s been like two fucking years.”

It hadn’t been, but you agree. It felt like it.

“I didn’t know you were keeping track–” you try to say, but Roman quickly cuts you off. Biting off that Shiv was out dancing. Dancing was a human thing. You didn’t know your only sister was a human.

“Guys, I’m gonna go now, I’ll probably not be in touch, so yeah,” you try and gracefully leave as your siblings bicker about finessing or some shit.

They both nod non-committedly as you trot off observing Kendall and Connnor at the opposite poles of the room. You choose to not go off towards Kendall, who you knew probably already ruined his night with his overthinking or underthinking. Instead you go to Connor, probably your only kind brother, albeit the fact sometimes he was fucking lawful psychotic.

“Con, Con,” you call out, your small purse at your side as you push it around your body – you’d refused to give it to security earlier, citing personal reasons which they were too scared to deny. They probably assumed it was your period or something like that – you’d made that insinuation when they didn’t relent for your last name.

You see Connor’s coated body turn around as he returns your call, “Bambi! My favourite sister – you remember Willa?” Connor gestures to his arm candy, who didn’t seem too excited to meet you – or meet you again, but obviously faked it. She was very pretty, nearly to the point where she made you feel insecure. But then again, no hate for your brother, but she was with your brother. You were sure Connor had mentioned her in a phone call, but you two never really talked about those kinds of things. He was always ranting on about politics (you think you’re the only one who would listen, so he took advantage of that) or you would talk about your life – never about the company, or really how he was doing besides his ranch.

“Yes, at Shiv’s wedding, I believe?” She just nods, and you’re both just pretending to know when you last met. There was no recognition in her eyes, and you don’t think you’d ever interacted with her. It was a nice connection you’d had, a shared lie always brings people together.

“Ken, told me you were here, but I thought you’d be gone by now.” Connor pulls you into a hug before saying, “Have you been taking care of yourself, sis?”

“I’ve been doing okay, normally as always.” Noticing his cast, she asks, “What’s up with your arm, Con’?”

“Oh, I was doing an Irish jig as one does, and boom I slipped and it bent in all different directions,” he describes in a strangely vivid way. “I’m feeling better though, Willa helped me recover, right sweetheart?”

“Yep,” she nodded, a smile on her face as she bore her eyes into mine – uncomfortable? Very.

Connor was probably the only one of your siblings you regularly spoke to, yes it was by phone, and no you didn’t always enjoy it, but there was a beautiful normalcy to speaking on the phone with your brother. With Kendall or Roman it always turned into business– about Dad. With Shiv it was her ranting about some political thing, well maybe that was before she turned so Waystar-loco.

Connor was your normal brother.

“Have you heard of my recent presidential proclivities?” he asks, tilting his head as he looks at Willa for support – in which she enthusiastically nods her head.

Maybe he wasn’t exactly the most normal of brothers, but he was more normal than the brother who spoke about you having sex weirdly too much or the one who can’t stop fucking over your dad and snorting cocaine.

You nod, but before you hear a tumble and watch Roman bending over a kneeling Kendall. What a fucking dick. Kendall’s girlfriend, who you also didn’t recognize was helping him up, and you stood there with no intention to help or rush in, frozen to your spot.

Connor shouts out, “Everyone take it easy, okay?” as Roman maniacally laughs and Kendall helps himself up.

As Kendall walks past you, Connor, and Willa he grumbles, “Take your fucking coat off,” repeating it to Connor as he walks like a man scorned. Willa blocks Connor from Kendall trying to calm the younger brother down. You avert Kendall’s gaze, standing next to Willa blocking Connor who looks to the ground much like you.

Shiv seemingly walks away from the scene as well, but in the opposite direction from Kendall, and immediately after Willa and Connor walk arm in arm out, saying a quiet goodbye to you.

With one glance to Roman, who’s still muttering curses under his breath on the sofa chairs, you leave. You’d quickly sobered up, and it was time to face the darkness of New York. Walking out of the luxurious Manhattan skyscraper you peer at the artificially brightened roads and the strange silence of the backroads. Instead of taking an Uber or Taxi, you opt for the Subway. You didn’t take an allowance from your Dad like Connor did, you never inherited anything ever, and your last poetry anthology wasn’t lucrative enough to have casual taxi money. You were sure nothing would happen on the Subway, from experience you know that there would just be a few people throwing up and tired workers coming home from the night shift.

Before walking down into the station, you check your phone, one hand on the railing and the other carefully gripping onto your phone. Attention split both ways.

Unknown

Know who I am yet?

1 Missed Call from Unknown

Your heart skips a beat, an adrenaline rich positive-ending to the night beat skip.

Instead of heading inside, you turn around, sitting down on the top step of the stairs, hoping a coked up crypto-bro doesn’t push you down.

Pressing the call, a part of you hopes he doesn’t pick up, so you can return to normalcy, but the heart wants what the heart wants.

“Bambi?”

You groan, “I thought the story would stop you from calling me that.”

“Not because of the story, it suits you–” he pauses, the line going crackly as you hear him talk to someone, “You’ve left the party?”

“Yeah, walking home now.” “Walking? This is America, ja? You’re on a death mission.”

“It’s not too late, you know serial killers only come out after two in the morning.”

“I can send a car, hmm? You can come over here.”

“What does ‘over here’ mean? To a stranger’s home?”

“You promised me something, didn’t you?”

“Hmmmm, a promise? I don’t remember.”

“Send me your location, I’ll get my guy to get you.”

“Okay, I’ll send my location to a stranger just because he was nice to me at my brother’s party.”

“See you soon then.”

____

The drive was awkward to Matsson’s (you preferred mystery man to what seemingly sounded like a last name, although it might be a first, Europeans were in themselves a mystery as well). The driver was quiet, and the car was a rich person’s. It was a car you were all too familiar with, the car you drove in during your childhood, the same tinted windows and leather seats.

Same thing of riding up to the penthouse of a hotel – he was only here temporarily you surmised. You’d probably be a one-time thing.

When the elevator doors beep open and you’re in a hallway with one door, anxiety fills you up. What if this was a trap? If he was some sort of sexual pervert, or even worse an axe murderer with an even worse temper than anyone you could find on the New York streets?

But before you can even knock the door swings open and a hand pulls you in, “Fucking asshole,” you whisper as you feel his lips trace over yours, your breath in his.

He’s rough, and rushed, like he’s a man starved – of you.

As he starts tracing his fingers underneath your shirt you push his back, two hands on his chest as he kneels his head to meet yours. “What’s wrong?” “I don’t know your name,” you say, almost embarrassed that you hadn’t found it on your own, “Matsson? That’s your name.”

He doesn’t respond, just pulls you close to him, before picking you up into his arms. You restrain a squeal as you struggle in his arms. He navigates through the hallways, looking as though he was confused on the layout of his own homebase, he finds the bed – splaying you down and standing above you like an animal.

“You know, I refuse to orgasm without your name,” you insist. He moves closer and closer, uncharacteristically quiet as he pulls your shirt up laying a hand on your stomach, the other tracing over your soaked panties, slowly creeping towards your sensitive skin.

He’s strangely gentle with it, until he pulls your panties to the side, spreading open your legs as he buries his face into your pussy. You move your two legs onto his shoulders, as plays with your nipples – languid twisting and faint touches that leave you just wanting more.

You let out a yelp as you feel his tongue move into you, like a fucking shark he dives into your clit as he watches you for your reaction. You know you look like a mess, breathless and desperate. “Please, please–” you moan, desperate for his tongue, for his touch, his everything.

“Your pussy’s so good, baby– fucking heaven,” he whispers into where his head lay between your thighs. As he blows gently on it, you are wholly exposed and cold, you start squirming. Your thighs start pressing around his head, trying to push him further, which seemed to turn him on even more. Your legs start to shake as your orgasm builds up and builds up, you feel like screaming from the bliss of it, his attack on your pussy is like God reigning down on earth. “Refuse to orgasm, hmm? Want me to stop?”

You shake your head as he continues, “Please, keep going, keep going—” He listens to you, beginning to rub your clit as the feeling of everything continues to crash down on you

“Come baby, come.” He keeps on licking you up, every fucking crevasse.

Your orgasm came hard and quick, with a groan and a twitch your eyes rolled over as you released his head from in between your thighs, and as quickly as he got there, he climbed on top of you – his larger body engulfing yours as he hurriedly kisses you.

“I want to inside me,” you say into his ear, you could feel him from underneath his pants as he grabs your ass, groaning into you as you palm him.

“Take off your fucking clothes,” he orders, as you do it, you take off the loose t-shirt you’d been wearing to Kendall’s party off slowly, you can feel him staring at your tits, and a part of you loves it. Loves the attention you get from him. As you take off your pants from where they are bunched up from your ankles, and then the greenish-blue granny panties you wear, you watch him take his suede pants and then his boxers off. Oh god, you feel yourself thinking as you stare at him.

He picks you up as he brings his length into your entrance, rubbing it on your clit. He keeps going, relentless before he surprises you and slips it in, tilting your head towards him so he could watch you as he fucked you.

You hear him groan as he starts with slow thrusts, he would push in and then wait five seconds before slowly sliding out— making sure you felt every inch of him. He was too big and you felt so full, with every time he pulled out you felt like five years were taken from your life span, that time had slowed down too much. You fucking needed him.

Of course he starts going fast, rough. There were no thoughts in your mind as you arched against him, and moaned in his mouth as he kissed you. Deeply and raw, like he had everything to lose and you would disappear in a heartbeat.

Pinning your hands above your head, he continues with his pace, passionately and without bore– “You’re so good for me, I just want to be inside you all the time,” he says a grin on his face as he watches your face before glancing down looking at his dick pound into you.

He presses kisses to your throat as he whispers, “My name’s Lukas, Lukas Matsson–” strangely enough hearing his name sends you off the edge as you moan out unintelligibly, overstimulated as he keeps on going, getting more and more erratic.

Not long after, he pumps into you a few more times before completely spilling inside of you, collapsing on top of you, not leaving your warmth as he buries himself deeper.

You don’t say anything afterwards, you let him lay on top of you as he stays inside of you all the same. It feels like time doesn’t pass as he wraps his arms around you, “Stay the night?” he asks, all you do is nod.

You lay in silence for a few more seconds before you tell him, “I’m on birth control, by the way, pretty fucking risky to cum inside me without asking though.”

“I wouldn’t be mad at a little me running around if I could fuck you again.”

Not saying anything, you press a kiss to his neck before tucking yourself closer into his body– finding sleep comes to you when so often it fails you.

#lukas matsson #succession #lukas matsson x reader #lukas matsson x roy!reader #fem reader #smut #first time writing smut #to be continued #kendall roy #succession fanfic #succession x reader #will post on ao3 when more chapters

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kopifurann · 3 months ago

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Hetalia X Alien Stage

Round 5

#hetalia #aph france #Francis Bonnefoy #aph belarus #aph taiwan #hws #BelaTai #Hetalia x Alien Stage AU #holy shit yall can't you believe i did this in a span of like three days??? The thirst of seeing sociopathic Francis Bonnefoy is like drug #to me #ANYWAY GO WATCH ALIEN STAGE BY VIVINOS AND QMENG IT SO GOOD #this is so fun actually ended up practicing framing and colour for vibes!! i might do more this kind of screen redraw thing #Especially final round #Arthur as Till and Fran as Luka for the absolute Toxic Yaoi #Love Arthur as sad loser puppy heheh #so if ur wondering why i pick Taiwan and Belarus as Mizi and Sua when nyotalia cast def would be better suited for it #i just wanna challenge myself plus Fem Heta character is just too underrated so why not #im imagining the Alien Stage AU as if its a movie/Musical and they're actors lol #kopifuran

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softly-xiafei · 8 months ago

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made edits of luka as the princess in ‘slay the princess’

#yes hyuna is the player #bird man #alnst #alien stage #hyuluka #lukahyuna #alien stage luka #luka #alnst luka #alnst hyuna #alien stage hyuna #hyuna #slay the princess #slay the princess au #genderbending #genderswap #fem #genderbend #slay the princess alnst

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kylimarz · 30 days ago

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Miraculous Ladybug College Au

Adrien x FemReader x Luka

Hey guys I'm back after a long long time and I am gonna write some nonsense let me know if you would like more parts!

In a broken city, a hero takes on a role she never wanted after losing someone she loved. Struggling with grief, loneliness, and tough choices, she pushes forward to protect what’s left, even when it feels like hope is gone. (Angst then a little taste of comfort)

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The news had never been this hopeless before. The city was a cacophony of chaos—crashes echoing from every direction, the earth trembling as buildings crumbled one by one. Paris, the city of light, was now drowning in shadows. And yet, her best friend was still out there, somewhere in the midst of it all.

A deafening explosion tore through the air, louder than any before it, shaking her to the core. Her heart sank as she spotted Ladybug—Paris's last hope—hurled violently into a building nearby, her figure disappearing into a cloud of dust and debris.

She knew she had to act. Without hesitation, she snatched her jacket from their shared apartment, barely registering her surroundings. The thought of locking the door didn’t even cross her mind; if Paris fell today, what was the point?

Her breath came in short, panicked bursts as she raced out into the streets. The acrid scent of smoke filled her lungs, and the ground beneath her feet felt unsteady, as though it might collapse at any moment. But she didn’t stop. She couldn’t stop.

The cobbled street, littered with jagged debris and coated in ash, does little to slow her stride. Each step sends sharp pain shooting through her legs, but she doesn’t falter. Heavy, burning breaths scrape against her lungs as she nears the collapsed building, her best friend buried somewhere beneath the ruins.

"Marinette!" she screams, her voice cutting through the chaotic roar of the city. Again and again, she calls, the name shredding her throat raw. Desperation fuels her trembling hands as she claws at the concrete rubble. Skin splits, fingernails crack, and blood smears across the jagged stone, but she doesn’t stop.

Out of the corner of her eye, a faint glimmer catches her attention. She freezes. "Tikki?" she whispers, the word barely escaping her lips. The sight fills her with dread. Had Marinette detransformed, her body pushed beyond its limits by the unrelenting damage? Her heart lurches. She scrambles to the edge of the wreckage where the glimmer had come from.

Hope flares when she hears faint, labored breathing. Dropping to her knees beside the rubble, she digs with renewed urgency, throwing aside shattered bricks and twisted metal. Her chest tightens as she uncovers Marinette, her best friend, lying limp and battered. Torn clothing reveals deep gashes and bruises covering her fragile body.

Tears spill freely down her cheeks as she wipes the dirt from Marinette’s face, streaking the grime further. "Marinette, you need to transform back," she begs, her voice breaking with anguish. "Please, I need you to be okay."

But Marinette doesn’t answer. Her breaths grow shallow, their rhythm faltering with every passing second.

“No, no, no, no,” she mutters in frantic disbelief, her hands trembling as she clutches her friend closer. Her cries pierce the air. "Chat Noir!" she screams, her voice cracking, desperate for Ladybug’s partner to appear. "Someone… anyone!" Her tears drip onto Marinette’s face, mingling with the dirt, creating muddy trails down her pale skin.

No one came.

The sounds of Paris crumbling grow louder, but the world around her fades to nothing. In that moment, she makes the hardest decision of her life. “I will come back to you,” she whispers in Marinette’s ear, pressing a trembling kiss to her forehead. Gently, with hands that feel too heavy, she removes Marinette’s earrings.

They had prepared for this possibility long ago. After high school, they had stayed close, both choosing to attend a Parisian college to remain near the city’s troubles. Between classes, they had joked about trading Miraculouses and designed imaginary suits together. But when Hawkmoth was replaced by an even darker, unknown enemy, those conversations had turned serious. Together with their Kwamis, they had made a pact: if Ladybug ever fell, she would take the mantle—only until Marinette could return.

Now, with shaking legs, she puts the earrings on. “Where are you, Tikki?” she whispers hoarsely. A faint glow emerges as Tikki, her tiny, weary Kwami, drifts onto her shoulder. "I’m so tired," Tikki murmurs, her voice barely audible.

"I know," she says softly, pulling a macaron from her pocket—one she always kept for emergencies. Handing it to Tikki, she swallows hard. “But we need to save Paris. Tikki… Spots on!” The words leave her lips, a sob tearing through her chest.

The transformation is sluggish, both wielder and Kwami drained, their strength pushed to the brink. Her vision blurs with tears as she takes a shaky step forward, her voice firm despite her trembling body. “Let’s do this.”

The chaos of Paris surrounds her, flames licking the edges of buildings and smoke thick in the air. Her movements are sluggish, her body aching with the weight of borrowed power. Still, she pushes forward, the yo-yo in her hand sparking to life.

From the shadows emerges the monstrous akuma, its hulking frame towering above the rubble. Its jagged claws scrape against the cobblestones as it roars, the sound shaking the ground beneath her feet. She steadies herself, gripping the yo-yo tightly, and launches it with precision.

The attack connects, wrapping around the creature’s arm, but it retaliates with a powerful swing. She’s thrown back, crashing into a broken streetlamp. Pain shoots through her side, but she grits her teeth, pulling herself to her feet.

“Tikki, I don’t have time to fail,” she whispers, her voice firm despite the tears still stinging her eyes.

The akuma lunges, its claws slashing through the air. She dodges, just barely, her footing unsteady. Using the yo-yo, she swings upward, landing on a crumbling ledge above the creature. From this vantage point, she spots its weak point—the glowing, pulsing object embedded in its chest.

Summoning the last of her strength, she leaps, her yo-yo spinning in a blur. “Lucky Charm!” she cries, and a metal pole materializes in her hand. She had always been more direct than the previous ladybug, heading straight into the fight and pulling no punches. She doesn't care for diluted tactics she dives head first not worrying about personal harm.

The pole is similar to Chat Noir's, Marinette and her had always joked that out of any miraculous she would suit the black cat's destructive powers the most. With a deep breath to steady herself from the memory that breaks though her mind she uses the pole to vault herself higher, flipping mid-air. The akuma swipes again, but she twists, narrowly avoiding its claws. With a final, desperate swing of her pole, she strikes the weak point. The akuma lets out a piercing scream before it shatters into dust, the corrupted butterfly floating free.

With trembling hands, she captures the butterfly, her voice weak as she whispers, “No more evil little guy.”

As the purification light spreads across the city, she collapses to her knees, gasping for breath. “We did it,” she murmurs.

But her relief is short-lived. The destruction around her remains, anything from before her transformation unable to be repaired by her lucky charm, and Marinette’s unconscious body is still waiting. “Hang on,” she whispers, forcing herself back to her feet. “I promised I’d come back for you.”

She swings through the devastated city as fast as her body will allow, her breath hitching with every sharp gust of freezing wind that cuts across her tear-streaked cheeks. The weight of her best friend's lifeless body in her arms feels unbearable, but she clings to Marinette tightly, each swing a desperate effort to reach the hospital in time.

Her mind races with curses for Chat Noir, his absence during the battle a cruel betrayal she can’t fathom. But there’s no time to dwell on his failure. She focuses on the icy air whipping past her and the sound of her labored breaths, blocking out everything else.

When she finally reaches the hospital, she crashes through the doors, her knees buckling under the weight of both Marinette and her own exhaustion. The bustling waiting room—filled with injured Parisians—falls silent. All eyes turn to her as she staggers forward. For a fleeting moment, she wonders if she even deserves to wear the title of Ladybug. But it doesn’t matter. Marinette would wake up. Paris would heal. Everything would return to normal.

Nurses rush to her side, their faces a mix of alarm and recognition. She carefully lays Marinette onto the gurney they roll forward, clutching her best friend's hand as if letting go would make her disappear. “I’m not leaving your side,” she whispers fiercely, her voice shaking but resolute. She doesn’t care if superheroes are supposed to be detached. That’s never been who she is—and she knows she won’t be Ladybug for long anyway.

But the nurses hesitate, their expressions twisting with something she doesn’t understand. Finally, one speaks, her voice quiet and filled with sorrow. “Madam… we can’t do anything.”

Her heart stops. “What?” she stammers, the word barely escaping her lips. “What do you mean? She’s right here. Just—just treat her!”

The nurse’s face crumples. “She’s gone.”

The words hit like a physical blow, knocking the air from her lungs. Her mind rebels, screaming no over and over again. This can’t be real. It isn’t possible. She had done everything right, had made the battle as short as she could.

One of the nurses gently pries her hand away from Marinette’s and pulls a blanket over her friend’s still form. “We’ll notify her family,” the nurse says softly, placing a hand on her trembling shoulder.

She stumbles back, her vision blurring as the weight of the moment crashes down on her. And then, she runs.

The rest of the day is a haze. On autopilot, she moves through the ruined city, manually clearing debris, helping those she can. The destruction is everywhere, forcing the mayor to establish makeshift shelters for the displaced. She directs anyone she encounters to the nearest one, her voice mechanical, her movements robotic.

Her new suit—the one hastily designed in a desperate rush to transform—catches attention. Some Parisians glance at her with confusion, their weary faces too burdened by grief to question why Ladybug looks so different. But the children notice. They point and whisper, their mothers quickly shushing them and reminding them to thank her for her help.

She doesn’t acknowledge any of them, her mind too fractured to process the world around her. All she can think about is the promise she made. And how, despite everything, Marinette is gone.

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She sits atop the city, perched on the edge of a rooftop high above the ruins of Paris. The once-bright lights of the city are muted now, so many buildings dark and lifeless, unable to recover from the destruction. The air is cold and still, but she doesn’t notice. Her body is numb, her mind blank. For hours, she sits there, unmoving, just staring into the void below.

“Who are you?” a gruff voice growls suddenly, so close it brushes her ear like the wind.

She doesn’t flinch. She doesn’t even turn. Instead, she whispers, her voice hollow, “Where were you?”

“What?” he growls again, stepping closer until his shadow overlaps hers.

“Where. Were. You.” She finally turns, her gaze sharp and burning with fury, though her voice remains quiet—too quiet.

“I wasn’t in town,” he mumbles, his shoulders slumping.

“You weren’t in town?” she repeats, her tone rising, disbelief twisting her words.

“I couldn’t help it,” he mutters, his voice defensive and his eyes refusing to meet hers.

Her expression twists into something colder, angrier. “You couldn’t help it?” she snaps, her voice cracking as it grows louder. “I’ve spent the last eight years here. I haven’t left once. I gave up everything—my dreams, my future—to make sure this city stayed standing. So forgive me if I don’t give a damn that you ‘couldn’t help it,’” she spits, her voice mocking as she throws his words back at him.

Silence falls between them like a stone. The weight of her words lingers in the cold air, neither of them daring to break it.

Finally, he sits beside her, the movement slow and tentative, his presence less imposing now. “...What happened?” he asks, his voice softer, almost gentle.

For a moment, she can’t speak. Her throat tightens, and the words lodge themselves deep in her chest. Her breathing quickens, sharp and shallow, her body trembling under the weight of everything she’s been holding in.

And then it all comes crashing down. Her shoulders shake violently as sobs break free, her exhaustion and grief spilling out in waves. She can’t hold it back anymore.

He doesn’t speak. He doesn’t try to console her. He just wraps his arms around her and holds her, steady and solid, as her world crumbles. He holds her as she cries, her tears soaking into his suit. He holds her even after the sobs subside, when the silence feels heavier than her screams.

“She’s dead,” she finally whispers, her voice so faint it could be mistaken for the wind.

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I hope you enjoyed guys! Let me know if you would like another part :) I'll probably post more for fun, even if it doesn't pop off haha this was purely self indulgent

see you next time!!!

#Main character death #angst #slight comfort #miraculous ladybug #adrien x reader #luka x reader #fem reader

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adaobiiii · 25 days ago

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──────────── black!reader x luka ⋆｡𖦹°‧★

Prompt : Head cannons of Luka and his interesting (black) girlfriend

Pairing : Luka Couffaine x Reader, Luka x Reader

Warnings : None, Fluff, no-magic!au

A/N : Reader is mainly referred to as "you". Can be read from wtv perspective, but it's kinda implied that i wrote this with a female in mind. I wanna write a pt2 alr of like how ur friends see ur relationship yk

Home || Main Masterlist || MLB Masterlist

Relationship Information

So I'd like to believe the way you two met went something like this.

You are in the library studying for your 4 final exams you unfortunately have.

As you explain the concepts to yourself you looked STRESSED.

Knee is bouncing, your twists are basically hanging by a thread because of how much your pulling at your hair, your hands and lips feel dry, your clothes feel too tight, your shoes aren't on the right way, the room feels to cold, you haven't eaten in an hour 3 hours.

And all of a sudden this random guy is getting himself seated beside you and pulling out his notes.

For a second all your stress anxious feelings stop cause your confused....

Like didn't he see all the other empty seats? Why is this emo looking, skinny jeans wearing, rockstar wanna be sitting beside me.

Then he smiles at you and your brain kinda just clicks and something makes sense. He sees your studying and eventually y'all get talking.

Course many of your attempted dates went nothing as planned (you struggle with time (a black people problem i have) and always feel bad for making him wait-) But when you do get together it's like the universe decided to give you guys a break cause now all your dates and hangout sessions end up wonderfully.

Aesthetics

Your wardrobe is full of baggy clothes. Oversized hoodies, cargo pants, graphic tees and all your accessories are in gold.

Obviously there's the random, "hottie" or "thirst trap that i'll never post" outfit in there but your go-to is comfy.

Doesn’t stop you from stealing Luka’s stuff.

He doesn’t mind when you “borrow” his chains or rings to complete your look, but he always notices.

“That’s mine,” he says with a smirk, and you just shrug at him.

His band tees somehow find their way into your wardrobe, and you style them to perfection with chunky sneakers and layered jewellery.

He loves when you wear his clothes and won’t ask for them back (u dont know this).

You also got him to not wear skinny jeans. It took days cause that was all he had in his closet but once you got him to see how thin his legs looked he was 100% willing to change.

Your Hair

Now when it comes to your hair this boy is most definitely OBSESSED

I feel like because he has basic hair (i apologise- but it looks so basic in the show 😭) he has an obsession w urs. Whether it’s in braids, a slick back bun or ponytail, or fluffy curls, he loves it all.

He loves when you let him help pick out hair accessories, cause he wants to decorate you.

Luka is incredibly careful and patient when helping wash your hair. He takes his time, making sure he doesn’t miss anything, following your instructions like it’s some ritual.

He’s low-key mesmerized by all of it.

How the shampoo lathers to how your curls look when wet. You catch him staring a few times, and he sheepishly grins.

“Your hair is amazing. I love how soft it feels,” he murmurs, making you blush even though you try to play it cool.

I feel like he’d be surprisingly good at giving a scalp massage while applying conditioner or shampoo.

“Am I doing it right?” You reassure him with a playful, “For a newbie, you’re not bad.”

Once your hair is clean and styled, bro can’t stop staring. “You’re gorgeous,” he says simply, and for once, you don’t tease him back, letting the warmth of his words sink in.

Couple Dynamic : Bullying

You roast Luka daily and without mercy, but he just grins, fully understanding that teasing is your love language.

You call him something like “Walmart Rockstar,” but he’ll laugh and reply with, “As long as I’m your Walmart Rockstar.”

Like SIR??? you're supposed to be offended 👎🏿

You’d definitely have a collection of ridiculous nicknames for him "Soft Rock," "Emo Barbie", "Emo Boi Wannabe" and he’d pretend to be annoyed but he loves it.

Sometimes, Luka surprises you by reciprocating the attitude.

One day, after you teased him for wearing the same hoodie for the third time that week (he did it cause it smelt like you), he snaps back and is like, “At least my hoodie isn’t in a fight with my earrings for attention.”

It took u a few minutes to understand but when u did u almost died laughing, completely unaware that he had memorised something he had seen online and was waiting for this moment-

If Luka ever does something even mildly silly, you’re immediately there with something to say.

“Who told you that haircut was a good idea? Was it Juleka? Blink twice if you need help.” Luka just laughs and shrugs, “You’re jealous you can’t pull it off like I can.”

Daily Life and Couple Things

However, Luka’s calm vibes doesn’t mean he’s a pushover. If you’re in a feisty (funny word) mood, he’ll match your energy with gentle sarcasm or sly comments.

You’ll playfully tug on his sleeve and tease him like, “Looking depressed again, huh?” while he casually slings an arm around your shoulders and murmurs, “It’s my thing, babe.”

You refuse to be straightforward with your compliments 95% of the time. Instead of just saying, "You look good," you’ll tell him something like, "I guess you’re not completely hopeless at fashion."

He would poke fun at you but chooses to laugh and kisses your forehead instead.

You love sneaking pink stickers onto Luka’s guitar case or slipping a glittery scrunchie into his pocket, just to see if he notices. You find it so much fun because the hot pink neon donut sticker on his guitar case doesn't match his vibes at all.

He usually notices but leaves them because “It reminds me of you."

This is also your way of quietly letting others know he's taken.

When Luka is feeling down, you’ll hype him up in your own way.....

“You’re literally the only dude who can make playing the guitar look this hot. Stop sulking and get back to being the heartthrob we all know you are.”

Now Luka's perspective on all this.

Luka’s all about the small, meaningful touches—a hand on your lower back, brushing your hair out of your face, or lacing his fingers with yours when no one’s looking.

He met you when you were about to have a mini-panic attack so he'd just really good at calming you down.

I feel like between both of you, he takes on the more domestic roles. He cleans and cooks and everything and all you have to do is wakeup and actually get out of bed to eat.

Like i said earlier though calm vibes ≠ pushover.

If anyone, ANYONE, tries to say anything offensive to you that could even slightly cause you to doubt in the amazing and beautiful person that you are he 100% WILL come swinging.

"How dare you insult by gorgeous queen? Do you not see the way her skin glows in the sunlight? Or how her hair is so beautiful and taken care of? I'll have you know that she is an absolute genius and is better than you in every wa-"

Sometimes you have to shut him up cause he just won't stop. It's cute though

At first you felt bad (cause bro would be lecturing so many people about your perfectness) but he always brushes it off saying that he can't let the thoughts of others worry the love of his life.

Despite the teasing, everyone knows you’re his biggest supporter. When Luka’s performing, you’re in the front row hyping him up, wearing his band’s merch (but it's cropped and styled to perfection).

Around Other People

Luka’s more reserved and you’re the loud, playful one in your friend group.

Both of you are totally introverts but you are the more extroverted-introvert.

It's funny to everyone else cause of the whole "sassy" and "chill" vibe both of you have going on.

Like they'll see you ranting at super speed about something to him and making all these hand gestures and he's just nodding along and making sure you don't bump into people or things since you get suuuuuper distracted.

If anyone ever tries to cross you or Luka, your mouth starts to work faster than your brain. You'd be like, "You got something to say? Say it louder—I couldn’t hear over your bad decision-making." ( oml that actually sucked to write i had my brother come up with it- ) and Luka just watches in amused awe, knowing you’ve got things handled.

If someone flirts with Luka, you’ll swoop in like “Sorry, he’s taken,” before giving him a quick wink and he'd just shake his head with a soft laugh.

BUT If anyone comes for you, Luka’s the calm but firm defender.

Bro got the snake miraculous for a reason. He is sweet and gentle 95% of the time but when he bites it is venomous.

You’ll definitely be instigating in the background though, “Say it louder for the people in the back!”

Intimacy & Trust

As bold as you are, Luka sees the softer side of you. He’s the only one who knows that under all the attitude, you’re as sweet as can be, and he treasures the quiet moments when you let your guard down.

Every now and then, when he least expects it, you’ll casually say something like, “You’re actually pretty great, Couffaine,” before quickly changing the subject. Luka lives for those rare moments of pure honesty.

He definitely surprises you with little handwritten notes tucked into your bag or under your phone. Your favorites? The ones where he writes, “You’re my favorite song.”

Luka writes songs inspired by your duality, your confidence and the hidden kindness, you only show him.

“You’re the storm and the calm, my chaos and my peace.”

When life gets overwhelming for either of you, Luka plays soft songs on his guitar while you sit beside him, leaning into his calm energy. He appreciates your presence in his life, even in the quietest moments.

#luka #luka couffaine #miraculous ladybug #mlb headcanon #headcanons #x reader #luka couffaine x reader #luka x reader #black girl reader #black girl #reader is black #reader is a girl #thats enough tags #black!fem!reader #black!reader

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silly-guy-tendencies · 7 months ago

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Fuck it

Yurifies your Jesskas

#jesskas #mcsm #minecraft story mode #mcsm jesse #mcsm lukas #i actually really like this fem design for lukas lol #idk what her name would be though #probably lily or something #art #comets art #illustrations #traditional art

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sockatoothewafflebird · 2 months ago

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for any confused mcsm fans. i've thought of an easy way to telll the difference between straight and gay jesse ships. specifically with lukas and petra.

if the ship name has "jess" in it, it's gay. jesstra -> fem jesse x petra. jesskas -> masc jesse x lukas. there i fixed it now the whole fandom can stop being confused /silly

#mcsm #minecraft story mode #minecraft: story mode #jesstra #jesskas #lukesse #jetra #jesse mcsm #petra mcsm #lukas mcsm #m!jesse #f!jesse #fem!jesse mcsm #mcsm male jesse

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ciciyup · 4 days ago

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Revenge.

cw: cheating, violence (insults, beatings), humiliation (cruel phrases and names), sensitive content.

Summary: Your relationship with Nathaniel Kurtzberg is perfect: there is love and mutual respect. An incredible couple. But after receiving a call and having a conversation that led you to discover something you would have liked not to see, you and the girls are willing to make all the boys suffer to give them a taste of their own medicine.

Nathaniel Kurtzberg X Fem! Reader (x Luka Couffaine).

━━━━━━✧ 🦢 ✧━━━━━━

Your day had started well, like any other day in Paris. You had never been a girl of big dramas or exorbitant emotions, but that didn't stop you from eventually managing to have your small group of friends with whom you shared affinities, laughter and special moments. That end of the year at university was supposed to be calm, with preparation for the future in mind and memorable moments with friends and couples. Your afternoon promised to be like any other. You walked through the streets calmly, enjoying the mild weather while checking your phone; however, Alix's call completely changed your routine.

—Hey! Can you come to the park? It's urgent —Alix spoke from the other line.

—Urgent? What's wrong? —you asked, frowning.

—I'll explain it to you when you get there, but it's serious. Come quickly. —she finished quickly before hanging up.

Although bewildered after the call, you accepted and headed to the park you always used to go to with your friends only to find out that the meeting included several girls you didn’t share certain bonds with: Marinette, who you had no problem with, but you had always found her too intense. Alya was nice, but her energy could also be exhausting. Chloe… It was simply Chloe. With Mylene, Sabrina, Juleka, and Rose, you also had no problems, but they weren’t in your circle, so you didn’t have a close friendship relationship.

—Why didn’t you tell me it would be a group meeting? —you asked discreetly, drawing Alix closer to you.

—Because if I told you, you would have hesitated to come —she answers obviously. —This affects us all. Listen. —Alix quickly gathers everyone together to hear her clearly, her face more serious. You felt out of place for a moment after looking at everyone's faces and noticing the seriousness in each one, as if they already knew something you didn't. —Our boyfriends are cheating on us.

The silence fell like a hammer. Marinette and Alya shared a tense look, Chloe frowned with her lips pressed together, and Mylene looked down at the floor with a disfigured face. You, on the other hand, arched an eyebrow at the last words.

—What are you talking about? —You asked, still standing firm, but feeling your heart begin to race.

—We saw them enter a hotel with other girls. All of them. We couldn't see who they were, but what we saw left no doubt —Alya intervened, with her arms crossed and a serious expression.

—We didn't want to believe it, but we already have enough to suspect —Marinette spoke nervously and the other girls nodded in response.

You began to feel a slight knot in your stomach. The idea of Nathaniel, your Nathaniel, doing something like that seemed absurd to you. But then, why were the rest so sure?

—We should talk to them before making assumptions —you suggested, looking for a mature approach.

—Talk? —Chloe snorted in disbelief, her arms akimbo. —Talk to a bunch of lying traitors? Of course not.

—We’ll only know if we go. —Marinette, normally calmer, had a hard look on her face this time.

Against your better judgment, you ended up following them. You didn’t entirely agree with that way of doing things, but you found yourself dragged along, perhaps also because your curiosity played a trick on you. Sneaking away was easier than expected. They all moved silently, dodging employees and discovering the floor where the boys were. Upon reaching the indicated room, one of the doors was ajar and what they saw was enough to make their faces harden. The room was in a chaotic state, with loud music, alcoholic drinks everywhere, and clothes strewn about. Each of the boys, their respective boyfriends, were accompanied by other girls, many of them acquaintances. Adrien was with Lila, who was curled up on his lap and kissing him shamelessly. Nino was dancing intimately with a stranger, carefree, bringing his hands to her butt. Ivan, blushing, was receiving compliments from a girl who kept caressing his shoulders and creating more closeness. Kim was trying to lift Kagami's skirt, who wasn't even paying attention, focused on Adrien. And in a corner, Nathaniel had a girl hanging on his arm, looking at him with admiration and distributing kisses all over his face while he didn't seem to do much to push her away. It was Chloe who almost gave them away when she opened her mouth indignantly when she saw Adrien there. Luckily for her, the music was too loud for anything to have been heard.

—I'm going to kill those...! —Chloe hissed angrily before being stopped by the others.

—Adrien is my boyfriend, not yours, Chloe —Marinette muttered, rolling her eyes, though her gaze was filled with fury.

You, on the other hand, felt like your world was shaking. Nathaniel with another. Accepting his kisses, giving him that shy smile he always used to give you. The fact that he allowed something like that without even thinking about you was enough to make your chest ache. The others were just as affected, each processing it in their own way. Mylene had tears in her eyes, Alya clenched her fists, Alix narrowed her eyes staring at everyone, Marinette breathed deeply trying not to lose her composure, and the other girls couldn’t believe their eyes.

—Let’s go —you whispered, your tone low but firm. No one protested. They all retreated silently, processing the betrayal.

When everyone got outside, the silence lasted only a short while before the group erupted in a mix of rage and sadness. While you and Alix remained silent still processing everything, Marinette put her hands on her head talking to herself, Alya walked in circles muttering insults, and Mylene cried while Juleka, Rose, and Sabrina comforted her.

—I can't believe it —Marinette muttered, her eyes somewhere between disappointment and anger.

—Ivan... I thought he loved me —Mylene whispered, her eyes full of tears.

—That idiot Nino is going to find out! —Alya insulted anything that reminded her of him, being really furious.

—Kim is a swine —Alix growled, kicking a rock.

—And what did they expect from all those losers? —Chloe spoke calmly, snorting with her arms crossed, but just as indignant.

It was then that Alya broke the chaos with an unexpected idea.

—If they're fooling us, why not do the same?

The suggestion left everyone silent. The idea of getting revenge on the boys the same way they had been betrayed was tempting.

—What? —you blurted out, a mix of surprise and skepticism.

—Think about it —Alya continued, her expression serious. —If they think they can play us, the same play has to be played back to all of them.

—That’s ridiculous —Marinette hesitated, though her tone wasn’t one of outright rejection.

—Is it? Because, honestly, I don’t see why we should just sit back —Alya replied.

—I like the idea. —Chloe followed her with a sharp smile.

—I’m not talking about just randomly finding other boys —Alya explained —I’m talking about making them suffer.

Everyone’s eyes sparkled with a mix of anger, confusion, and possibly excitement. Even though you didn't consider yourself a vengeful person, remembering the image of Nathaniel with someone else made something inside your principles change.

—I'm listening —you finally said.

—If they did this to us without hesitation, I don't see why not —Alix added, smiling defiantly.

—We need it to be something big —Marinette commented, thinking. —Something that affects them. —They all looked at each other, agreeing. Alya immediately took the lead.

—We need allies. For this to work, we need to do the same thing they did... But worse.

The following days everything continued as usual and relatively calm. Everyone acted normally, as if nothing had happened. For your part, you continued seeing Nathaniel, helping him with his artistic projects, forcing yourself to smile every time he held your hand or smiled at you with the same sweetness as always, although inside his betrayal continued to eat away at you and the fact that he acted so calm as if he hadn't done anything only made everything worse. The same was true for the others. Marinette endured Adrien’s kind gaze, Alix continued to race Kim, Mylene continued to cuddle with Ivan, and Alya still laughed with Nino as if nothing had happened. This was all part of the plan, and one by one, they began to recruit allies.

Chloe was the first to act. She contacted Felix, Adrien’s cousin, who by chance to be in a relationship with Kagami. After meeting at a fancy cafe, Chloe bluntly explained what had happened and the idea. Felix remained silent for a few seconds before a cold smile formed on his face.

—So Kagami and my cousin have been treating me like an idiot? —he asked in an icy voice.

—Exactly —Chloe stated, her expression superior. —And we want to return the favor.

Felix calmly took his cup of tea, but his gaze shone with contained anger before he calmly replied. —I’m in.

Meanwhile, you had your own missions. You knew that going to Luka was a low blow. He had always been a close friend and overly kind to everyone, so asking him for help with something like this wasn't easy. But seeing Nathaniel continue to act as if nothing happened after what happened at the hotel made you boil inside. You found yourself at the dock, the place where you used to chat when something worried you. Marinette was also there with the same goal and backing you up. You both looked at each other for a moment before nodding confidently and entering the Couffaine home.

—Hi! What a surprise to see you both. Is something wrong? —Luka asks, giving a half smile that is quickly erased when he sees their serious expressions.

—Adrien and Nathaniel tricked us. Not just those two… All of them. —Marinette quickly speaks, being direct.

Luka frowned after hearing the statement. —How?

While you explained the situation and the idea of the plan, Luka listened in silence, his eyes reflecting a mix of surprise and disappointment.

—I’m so sorry —he answered sincerely, looking at both of them. —I like Adrien and Nathaniel, but this…

—We want revenge —Marinette intervened. —And we need your help, Luka.

Luka sighed, running a hand through his hair in an attempt to clear his thoughts. —It’s not my style, but… You’re my best friends. If this makes you feel better, I’m in.

Meanwhile, Alya, Alix, and Mylene took charge of recruiting some boys from class. Max, who was close to Kim, was one of the first to agree, outraged by his friend’s behavior. Other classmates also joined in, willing to help. On Juleka’s side, Rose and Sabrina were working on something essential to make the plan perfect. With Sabrina’s skill, they managed to get a high-quality camera. The three of them made sure everything would work when the time came.

And finally, at your last stop, you had to convince Marc. You knew he was Nathaniel’s best friend, but he was also your friend. You weren’t sure if he would agree, but you had to try. After seeing him in the library drawing in his notebook, you sat down next to him before he looked up and greeted you. After explaining the situation to him, you watched his reaction closely. At first, Marc seemed reluctant.

—That… It doesn’t sound like something he would do —Marc pressed his lips together, clearly disturbed.

—But it is —you replied firmly.

—I don’t know… I mean, Nathaniel is my friend. I don’t want to hurt him.

—I didn’t want him to hurt me —either you replied quietly, avoiding his gaze for a moment before turning back to him. Marc lowered his head, uncomfortable. —You don’t have to do anything drastic —you continued. —Just be present. That’ll be enough. But if you don’t want to get involved, I’ll understand that too.

There was a long silence before Marc sighed and nodded. —Okay, I’ll do it for you.

With all the allies gathered, they all met back up in the park.

—Are we sure about this? —Juleka asked quietly, her arms crossed as she looked at Rose by her side and Sabrina, who put the camera back in her bag.

—More than ever —Alix replied with a nod and everyone else followed with a confident gesture.

—Hopefully, we can start tonight —Alya announced.

Looking around and then at all the girls, you didn’t know how far they were going to go with this, but one thing was for sure: there would be no turning back.

That night turned into complete madness, though not in a bad way. Everything had gone perfectly, every detail executed with precision. Between laughter, touching, and the excitement of the moment, they managed to accomplish the task without anyone suspecting a thing. Sabrina, who was in charge of recording everything along with Juleka and Rose, remained at her post, but she couldn't help but smile as well when she was invited to join. Now in charge of the camera, Juleka and Rose went through every corner recording everything they could, while Rose cheered and Juleka handled the camera so that everything could be seen in quality. The night had gone great. Not only had they completed the plan successfully, but, to everyone's surprise, the experience turned out to be incredibly fun. When everything was over and the boys left, the girls stayed to remove any trace of the evening. Despite the chaos that was coming, the satisfaction on their faces was evident.

With the material in Alya's hands, the next phase of the plan began. The next afternoon Alya got to work editing with surgical precision. For the first time working alongside Chloe, who had insisted on adding her own personal touches.

—This needs… Something more —Chloe commented, smirking as she looked through the material. Alya snorted, but remained open to hearing her idea.

—What do you have in mind? —Alya asked, raising an eyebrow.

—Something special for each of them. Something that will make them feel the humiliation in their bones.

After hearing her, Alya handed over the keyboard to her with a smile. Chloe took her time typing personalized messages to each of the boys, making sure they hurt like knives. She stopped especially at Adrien. Her fingers moved with precision over the keyboard before pressing “save.” Alya stared at the screen in silence for a few seconds, reading the message.

—That’s… Brutal.

—Too much? —Chloe asked with false innocence.

—No —Alya answered with a crooked smile —It's perfect.

When the video was ready, they all met back where it all began: the park. Juleka, Rose and Sabrina had done an excellent job gathering information. Thanks to them, they knew that that afternoon all the boys would meet at Adrien's house. It was the perfect moment. After coordinating the video to send it directly to Adrien's computer, with just one "click" the video was sent. They knew that, being with the others, he wouldn't be able to ignore it. And so it was.

In the enormous Agreste mansion, Adrien, Nino, Nathaniel, Kim, Ivan and a few others were scattered around Adrien's room while chatting or just hanging out with something they found there. Suddenly, Adrien's computer emitted a notification, which made him approach curiously.

—Alya sent me a video —he commented out loud even without opening the file. This caused the others to quickly approach, curious.

—Alya? —Nino asked, confused.

Without thinking much, Adrien pressed the play button. The screen lit up with the image of a luxurious hotel room, immediately recognizable as a suite at the Bourgeois hotel. But what captured everyone’s attention wasn’t the surroundings, but what was happening inside. The girls were there, surrounded by companions, and what happened next left them speechless.

Alya appeared on screen, carefreely kissing Max while both drank a bottle of alcohol. Her expression was one of pure amusement, completely lost in her own world. As the video continued to play, a cruel phrase appeared in large: “For the fool who can’t even seem to make his girlfriend laugh, here's someone who makes her more than laugh.” After reading that, Nino felt a lump in his throat, his hands clenching his knuckles tightly. He was ready to talk if only the video had not continued.

The next shot showed Mylene, sitting on a couch with an unknown boy, who was most likely not from that school. Mylene was smiling blushingly as the boy picked her up and sat her on his lap. Likewise, a phrase appeared in large: “Maybe sweetness isn’t everything, especially when you don’t have what it takes to satisfy your girl.” The message made Ivan feel like he had been punched in the stomach while simultaneously frowning.

The third shot showed Alix, in the arms of an unknown boy and Max. Her attitude was one of absolute mockery. As soon as the camera focused on her, she raised her middle finger while smiling. Another new phrase appeared on the screen: “To the sprinter who thinks he can win every race. Apparently, someone already beat you in the most important one.” Kim gritted her teeth tightly, feeling her pride shattered.

Soon the image changed. Luka appeared next to you, both kissing as if they were the only ones there. The scene was real, intense. Your tongues intertwined while Luka’s hands ran over your waist. To top it off, Marc came into the frame and held a shy kiss with you. The phrase was clear: “To the artist who should learn more from others. What a shame that he can’t be more than a shadow.” Nathaniel immediately closed his eyes, trying to hide the humiliation. His face paled for a moment as your scene repeated itself in his mind over and over again.

And just when they thought nothing could be worse, Marinette and Chloe appeared together, sharing a three-way kiss with Felix. Each one sitting on each side, keeping him in between them. Felix smiled with satisfaction, enjoying the attention as he drew the two girls close to him. The kiss was neither shy nor accidental, but provocative and shameless. The phrase that accompanied this was, without a doubt, the cruelest of all: “to the boy who could never take control of his own life. Too bad your mother isn’t alive to see how pathetic you are.” The image alone had already hurt Adrien, but what completely destroyed him was the ruthless message he read. He felt the air escape from his chest.

The video ended with everyone who had participated in a single shot gathered together, smiling and waving calmly at the camera as if it had been a simple game, before the screen faded to black.

The silence that took over the room was deathly. The boys stood still, their blood boiling and their hearts beating wildly from the great humiliation. The blows had been accurate. Deadly. Each of them had a different reaction: some were paralyzed, others seething with fury. Nathaniel could barely process it; Her voice only whispered your name and her mind repeated the image of you, Luka and Marc. Nino clenched his fists with his jaw tense. He couldn’t believe what he had just seen.

—This has to be a joke —Kim muttered, feeling anger bubbling up in her chest before she hit the nearest table hard, causing some of the boys to jump in fright. —I can’t believe this!

Adrien, on the other hand, couldn’t move. His eyes were fixed on the blacked-out screen, his mind spinning around the last sentence he had read. “Too bad your mother isn’t alive to see how pathetic you are.” His body trembled with anger. Slowly, he stood up, determined not to let something like that pass. One by one, the others followed suit, with determined expressions.

In the park, the girls, along with the others involved, chatted calmly. Some were more nervous than others, but no one gave any indication of wanting to escape or back out.

—Well, that went better than expected. I'd give anything to see their faces when they saw that video —Chloe said calmly, smiling relaxedly as she looked at her nails.

—I feel a little bad though... —Marc muttered, somewhat unsure of having participated.

—Don't worry, they asked for it —Alix reassured him, patting his shoulder.

The tranquility was interrupted when a group appeared on the other side of the park. The boys. With quick, furious steps they approached and chaos was quick to erupt.

—What the hell was that video, Alya?! —Nino's voice echoed with contained rage.

—What you deserved. —Alya responded with crossed arms and a direct response.

Nino stepped forward to say something else, but before he could open his mouth, Kim exploded.

—Do you have any idea what you did?! —He roared furiously, his gaze fixed on Alix.

—Oh please, are you surprised that people get tired of you? —Alix replied sarcastically, still staring at him; this made Kim grit her teeth before turning sharply to Max.

—Traitor! You were supposed to be my friend!

Max, far from backing down, calmly adjusted his glasses. —I was. Until I saw you act like an idiot to Alix and with everyone else.

Kim felt fury overflow. Without thinking, she launched herself at Max, pushing him hard. A couple of hits were enough for the other boys to start fighting as well. Nathaniel, who had remained silent since he had seen the video, seeing Luka made his rage come to the surface.

—You took her from me! —Nathaniel shouted, approaching Luka with eyes burning with anger as he pushed him.

Luka, already seeing all this coming, did not hesitate to respond. —You never valued her! —he replied, returning his push with a stronger one.

The tension rose, and within seconds Marc tried to meditate with both of them, but instead ended up being dragged into the fight.

—You betrayed me too! —Nathaniel shouted furiously, looking at him with the same contempt with which he had looked at Luka.

Meanwhile, Adrien didn't hesitate to launch himself at Felix at the slightest opportunity.

—How could you?! You're my family! —Adrien looked at him with his face contorted with fury.

Felix, with his usual coldness, only smiled mockingly. —Don't play the martyr, dear cousin.

Adrien didn't need more to throw a punch that hit Felix directly in the face. Without losing his cool, Felix wiped the blood from the side of his mouth before hitting him back with impeccable precision.

The exchange of blows and screams turned into absolute chaos in no time. Nino, Kim, and Ivan launched themselves at Max and the other boys involved without planning to leave any of them with an unscathed face. Soon the street was filled with insults, screams, and fists clashing. This soon caught the attention of passersby, and soon after, a group of people had gathered, watching the spectacle. The girls, who had initially stood watching the outcome, decided to intervene to protect the boys they still cared about. Marinette and Chloe launched themselves at Adrien and Felix trying to stop them, while you tried to stop the fight between Nathaniel, Luka and Marc, Mylene tried to meditate with Ivan, Alix tried to help Max by kicking Kim away, while Alya did the same with Nino. Each one separated the boys they could, while making sure that no one else got involved. The park, which had previously been a quiet place, became a battlefield. Insults and blows flew everywhere; even some of the group of people gathered took out their phones to record. Juleka, Rose and Sabrina, seeing that the situation was getting out of hand, took out their phones to call the police.

—This is getting out of hand... —Juleka muttered, observing the scene. Rose, by her side, along with Sabrina, nodded in concern.

A few minutes later, the sound of sirens filled the air. The police had arrived.

—Stop right there! Police! —Roger, Sabrina’s father, arrived with a few officers, running towards the frenzied crowd, separating the brawlers with effort.

Nathaniel and Luka struggled when they were pushed aside. Adrien and Felix had to be pushed in opposite directions. Marc had a bruise on his cheek while a policeman questioned him. Ivan was still being treated by Mylene and another policeman. Kim kept picking fights with anyone she laid eyes on. Nino, with a split lip, glared at Alya angrily.

—Feeling better now? —Adrien muttered, shooting Marinette an angry look.

—Much better. —she answered seriously, before turning her head in another direction.

Nathaniel, on the other hand, could barely look at you, and you didn't look at him either, knowing that what they both had was over.

—Forget it, Nathaniel. —you answered dryly when you saw him approach you, without even looking at him. Nathaniel didn't insist any more, lowering his gaze while touching the bump on his forehead, which he covered with his hair.

Chloe, on the other hand, seemed to complain more about her broken nail than about the disaster that had occurred, as she struggled with an officer to get him to let her go, threatening to tell her father. Alya looked coldly at Nino without saying a word. Alix smiled satisfied at Kim, who couldn't stop steaming from her ears, and Mylene couldn't stop crying.

—Everyone will come to the police station. Now. —Roger looked at them disapprovingly before leading them to the patrol cars.

The chaos had reached its peak. Revenge was complete. But the consequences for everyone were just beginning. Deep down you knew that after this, nothing would ever be the same for anyone. What was once friendship and love was now replaced by a feeling of emptiness and bitterness. Blue and red lights flashed in the park as people scattered and those involved said nothing more except their betrayed faces. Nothing would ever be the same again. Not after that day.

━━━━━━✧ 🦢 ✧━━━━━━

🏹 a/n: Hey! The vote has been quite even, but finally a result was given. Thanks to everyone who voted! Honestly, this story was longer than I thought it would be, but I had fun writing it.

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