#he's training just to always be stronger than you

[neptunsx]

PERMANENT | P.SH

⤷ genre: angst, nsfw.

⤷ synopsis: sunghoon as your toxic boxer ex who got your name tattooed.

You hadn’t meant to see him again.

You were scrolling absently through channels, not really watching anything. The day had been long, your body heavy with the kind of tired that no amount of caffeine could touch. You just wanted background noise. Something to drown out your thoughts.

You paused on a channel where the crowd was going wild—flashing signs, girls lifting their tops in a frenzy of excitement.

With a sigh and a roll of your eyes, you turned your attention back to admiring your freshly done nails.

Then…his name echoed through the chaos and hit you hard, like a punch to the chest.

��Park Sunghoon steps back into the ring tonight—”

You froze.

You didn’t breathe.

The screen shifted to show him entering the ring — black gloves, cold eyes, hair pushed back the way it always was before a match. He looked sharper. Stronger. But it was him.

Sunghoon.

Your ex.

You didn’t even realize you were leaning forward until your elbow knocked the remote off the couch.

He looked exactly the same. Like no time had passed. Like he hadn’t wrecked you eight months ago with nothing more than distance and silence.

Your throat tightened.

You hadn’t seen him since the night he left — or rather, the night you did. The night you packed a bag after another argument that started small and turned brutal. That was your pattern: quiet resentment, building pressure, then a blowout that left both of you staring at each other like strangers.

It wasn’t always like that.

There was a time when he made you feel untouchable. When his voice in the early morning, raspy and low, was your favorite sound. When his hands were always on your waist, grounding you, and his mouth only ever knew how to say stay.

But the higher his career climbed, the more he looked down on you.

He stopped talking. You started overthinking. He buried himself in training—and in other women when he thought you wouldn’t notice.

He made you feel needy for asking to be seen, dramatic for needing his time. He mocked your softness, called your emotions a distraction.

The compliments turned to criticism. The late-night phone calls became silent treatments.

The warmth in his voice vanished, replaced by cold calculation—like you were just another task he didn’t have time for.

And still, you stayed… until it hurt more to hold on than to let go.

You told yourself you moved on.

But there you were, heart racing, watching the man who used to sleep next to you throw punches with the same precision he used to kiss you with. Calculated. Controlled. Cold.

The match ended fast. It always did. A blur of footwork, one perfectly placed hit — and Sunghoon stood in the center of the ring, victorious, breathing heavy under the arena lights.

He pulled off his gloves. The camera followed the movement.

And that’s when you saw it.

A tattoo, dark and fresh, inked into the side of his ribs.

Your name.

You blinked. Your lips parted.

No. No, that couldn’t—

You leaned closer.

Your full name. In his handwriting. Just under the curve of his left ribs, near where you used to rest your head at night.

You felt like the floor shifted underneath you.

When did he do that? Why would he do that?

You hadn’t spoken in months. Not even a text. He didn’t show up when you moved out. Didn’t fight for you. Didn’t ask you to stay.

And yet there you were. Permanently etched into his skin.

Your stomach turned with confusion, heat, and something dangerously close to longing.

Midnight came and went. You paced. You sat in silence. Trying to process what the fuck you just saw.

Your fingers hovered over his name in your phone. You told yourself not to do it, told yourself you didn’t need to know.

But you called anyway.

He answered after two rings. Like he always used to.

“…Hello?”

The sound of his voice pulled something tight in your chest.

“Hi…” you said, voice barely above a whisper.

A pause. Then: “Y/N?”

You ignored the way your name sounded coming from him. Focused on the tremble in his voice instead.

“Can you come over?”

He was quiet for a beat.

“Are you okay?”

“I just… I need to talk.”

Another pause. Then: “Yeah. I’ll come.”

He showed up in a black hoodie and oversized jeans. His sleeves were pushed up, revealing his bruised knuckles.

When he showed up at the door, it was like everything stopped for a second. Your chest tightened, a familiar ache creeping in.

He leaned casually against the frame, his fingers flicking the keys to his expensive car, the sound of metal against metal almost too loud in the quiet of the night. The faint scent of cigarettes wrapped around him — a bitter contrast to his polished athlete image.

As he looked at you, the weight of everything unspoken between you hung thick in the air.

You moved aside, allowing him to enter your house.

He stepped inside like he still knew the way. Like nothing had changed.

But everything had.

You sat on the edge of your couch, arms crossed over your chest. Trying to seem calm. Like you hadn’t been rehearsing this moment in your head all night.

He stood a few feet away, like he didn’t know if he was allowed to get closer.

“You said you wanted to talk.” he said quietly.

You nodded. “I did.”

A heavy beat passed.

“So?” he asked, shifting his weight. “Talk.”

You swallowed.

“I saw the fight.”

His jaw tensed. “Okay.”

“And I saw the tattoo.”

His expression cracked. Just slightly. But it was there — the flicker of surprise. The way his shoulders tensed, like he’d been caught in something.

“So…” you said, voice sharper now, “when were you planning to tell me you got my name inked into your ribs like I’m some kind of ghost you can't shake?”

He hesitated.

“I wasn’t planning to.”

“Seriously?” you scoffed. “So what, I was supposed to just never find out? You really thought you could keep this from me? You thought I wouldn’t find out that you permanently branded yourself with my name, like some fucking trophy?”

His eyes flickered for a second, but he quickly masked it with a smirk. “I didn’t do it for you.” he said coolly, spinning the car keys around his finger. “I did it because I couldn’t pretend anymore. I’m not here to explain myself to you.”

“Pretend what?” you snapped back, stepping forward, heart pounding in your chest. “What were you pretending? That you were over me? Because you weren’t, and you knew it. You just didn’t want to admit it.”

He gave a low laugh, but it wasn’t a real laugh—it was condescending. “You still think everything’s about you, don’t you?”

He took a step closer, his arrogance flooding the room. “No. I didn’t pretend to be over you. I just let you go because you couldn’t handle it. I wasn’t about to sit here begging you to stay, like some weak, desperate idiot.”

You shook your head, your pulse rising. “And now you think you can fix it by putting my name on your fucking skin? As if that somehow makes up for the years you spent shutting me out? You didn’t fight for me, Sunghoon. You never did.”

He shrugged, unfazed by your words. “You weren’t worth fighting for. I don’t need to prove anything to you, and I don’t need your forgiveness. I did what I had to do to keep moving. You’re just... a reminder.”

“Is that it?” you spat. “I’m just a reminder? You’re so full of yourself, you think this tattoo is some kind of redemption. You don’t get to claim me like this.”

His expression darkened, but only slightly. “You never understand, do you? I didn’t do this because I missed you. I did it because it’s the only thing that won’t leave. Everything else does. You did. So I kept pushing, kept fighting, kept pretending I didn’t care. But every goddamn time I stepped into that ring, I felt your presence, like a shadow I couldn’t outrun. You never left my head, no matter how hard I tried.”

“You think this tattoo means something?” you said, the bitterness thick in your voice. “You think that after everything you did, a tattoo will fix it? You never tried to make things right, Sunghoon. You just let me walk away. And now you’re expecting me to think this is some grand gesture?”

He stepped even closer, voice dropping lower. “It’s not about you thinking anything. It’s about me reminding you of who I am, who I was to you. You think you can walk away, pretend I don’t still haunt you, but I’m still here, aren’t I? And you’re still pissed, still holding on.”

You froze, a shiver running down your spine. “You’re so arrogant.” you said, the words barely escaping through your clenched teeth. “You don’t even realize that it’s not about you anymore. It’s about me and how you destroyed us. You shut me out over and over again. You didn’t give a single damn.”

“You think I didn’t know that?” He was inches from you now, his eyes burning, but there was something almost... possessive in them. “I didn’t need to call you. I didn’t need to chase you. You think I didn’t know how much I hurt you? I knew. But I was never going to chase you down, begging for forgiveness. That’s not how this works.”

“You’ve always been so damn prideful.” you seethed, voice trembling with anger. “You think you can just leave me with nothing and then show up with this thing on your skin like it makes everything okay?”

“I never said it made everything okay.” He looked at you, his gaze flicking to the tattoo briefly before locking back on your eyes. “But it’s real. That’s more than you’ll ever understand. You were always so temporary to me, and I wanted something that wouldn’t leave. You won’t leave me, not like this. No matter how much you think you hate me, no matter how many times you tell yourself you’ve moved on—you're still here.”

You shook your head, feeling something twist in your chest. “I’m still here because you never let me leave completely. You always found a way to pull me back in, and now it’s too late. I’m done. I’m done trying to fix something you never wanted to fix.”

He smirked, a faint edge of satisfaction curling his lips. “You think I didn’t know you’d say that? You think I didn’t know you were still in love with me? It’s the same shit, every time. You want to hate me. You want to make me the villain. But you still can’t walk away. You’ll never walk away.”

You looked at him — really looked at him. The tired eyes. The bruises. The tattoo. He was still him. Still sharp edges and cold fire. But now there was something soft underneath.

And you were still you.

Still in love with a boy who didn’t know how to ask you to stay until it was too late.

“I shouldn’t let you back in.” you said.

“I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t.”

Silence. Long. Heavy.

You hated him.

You hated the way he stood there like he hadn’t torn you apart. The way his jaw clenched when you spoke, like you were the one being unfair. The way he smelled like cigarette smoke and expensive cologne and memories you still hadn’t managed to drown.

You hated the way your body still ached for him, even now.

“You think I can’t forget you?” you whispered, stepping back, needing space, needing air. “You’re wrong. I do it every damn day.”

But you didn’t sound convincing. Not even to yourself.

His eyes flicked down to your mouth. “Then why are you shaking?”

You froze. Your breath caught. And in a flash, like muscle memory, he was already in front of you again, backing you against the wall like gravity was pulling him there.

“You hate me,” he murmured, voice low, “but you let me in.”

“You’re still a fucking narcissist.” you hissed, but your hands had already found his chest, trying to push him away.

“And you’re still lying to yourself.” he shot back, just before his mouth crashed into yours.

It wasn’t sweet. It was angry. Raw. A clash of teeth and breath and months of words you never said. His hands were on your waist like they used to be—possessive, rough, like he was trying to memorize you all over again.

You knew you shouldn’t.

But God, he felt like fire after a lifetime of cold.

He pulled back for a second, forehead pressed to yours, both of you breathless.

“This doesn’t fix anything.” you whispered.

“I know.” he said, brushing his lips against yours again, softer this time. “But I need you. Just for tonight.”

You knew it was a terrible idea. Knew that the next morning, none of this would be simple. But when he looked at you like that — like you were the only thing that ever quieted the chaos inside him — logic didn’t stand a chance.

Your fingers gripped the front of his shirt, pulling him back in before you could talk yourself out of it. His mouth crashed into yours, hungry and unrelenting. He kissed like he fought. With intensity, control, like he needed to win. And maybe you did too, in your own way.

His hands were on your body, sliding beneath your shirt, calloused palms dragging across your skin like he was rediscovering a language he hadn’t spoken in months. You gasped into his mouth when his thumbs brushed under your ribs, sending a jolt of heat straight to your core.

“Still so fucking soft.” he muttered against your neck, his breath hot. “You think I ever forgot this?”

You didn’t answer — couldn’t. Your back hit the wall again and your arms wrapped around his neck instinctively. His mouth moved down your throat, teeth grazing just enough to make your skin erupt in goosebumps.

You tugged his shirt over his head, eyes tracing the familiar scars, the bruises from his latest fight, the ink over his ribs — your name etched in bold, defiant permanence.

“You’re fucking crazy.” you whispered, dragging your nails down his chest.

“Only for you.” he said, eyes dark as he pulled your sweatpants down.

He worked you out of your clothes like it was muscle memory — like he’d imagined it a hundred times since you left.

His mouth moved to your tits, grabbing them firmly and marking them as his.

You gripped his hair, gasping his name, and he looked up at you, lips already flushed, voice gravelly,

“Say it again.”

“Sunghoon...” you moan again, softly.

He groaned like it hurt. Like it healed.

He lifted you effortlessly, carrying you to the couch.

He finished undressing himself and pumped his dick a few times while maintaining eye contact with you.

When he finally pushed into you, it wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t slow. It was desperation wrapped in need — teeth on your collarbone, fingers digging into your thighs, curses muttered into your skin. He was everywhere. He was too much. He was exactly what you needed.

He was ramming into you like crazy, like he was starved. You clawed at his back, legs locked around him, moving in sync like your bodies never forgot.

“God, you still feel like mine.” he growled into your ear, hips thrusting harder, more erratic now. “Tell me I didn’t lose you.”

You bit his bicep, half a sob, half a moan. “You never really had me.”

But even as you said it, your nails raked down his spine and your body arched into his like gravity couldn’t bear to keep you apart.

“Are you sure about that?” he said, looking at you with dark, needy eyes.

His hand crawled up, finding your neck and giving it a strong squeeze, holding you in place.

Your vision blurred as pleasure crashed over you in waves — overwhelming, all-consuming. Your back arched off the couch, breath hitching, unable to ground yourself in anything but the way he moved, the way he owned every inch of you. He slapped your cheek and grabbed your jaw, making you look up at him.

“You fucking slut,” he groaned, “missed my dick that bad?” he mocked, making you whimper and feel vulnerable under him.

“Fuck you.” you spat.

He chuckled, low and dangerous, like he loved when you talked back.

Before you could blink, he flipped you effortlessly, pressing your chest to the couch cushions, dragging your hips up with rough hands. You gasped, caught off guard, dizzy from the shift, but burning with need.

“You always needed it like this.” he muttered behind you, voice like gravel, hands gripping your hips with a possessive hold that left fingerprints in his wake. “Hard. Messy. Mine.”

And then he was moving again — deeper, rougher, pulling sounds from you that didn’t even sound like your own. You buried your face in the pillow, but he grabbed a fistful of your hair, yanking your head back just enough to hear your pretty noises, “Don’t hide from me now."

“F-Fuck.” you gasped, your voice breaking as your hand shot back, trying to slow him down.

But he didn’t stop.

He gripped your wrist mid-air, pinned it to the small of your back, and kept going — relentless, feverish, like he was trying to burn his name into your skin.

He’d never been like this before. Not this rough. Not this desperate.

Not this possessed.

Every thrust sent a shockwave through you, your cries lost in the heat between you, in the way your name kept falling from his lips like a prayer turned curse.

Your thighs trembled.

Your breath hitched.

And then you shattered. Back arching, vision blinding white, everything in you unraveling all at once. You cried out his name, broken and breathless, feeling yourself fall apart around him.

That was all it took.

With a guttural groan, he slammed into you one last time, burying himself deep as he spilled inside you, head thrown back, fingers digging into your hips like he was anchoring himself to the moment — to you. Like he needed this more than air.

You were still catching your breath, your body buzzing with the aftershocks, when it hit you.

Your eyes flew open.

“Wait—” you gasped, twisting to look at him. “Did you just—? You didn’t pull out.”

He didn’t flinch. Didn’t even blink.

“Yeah.” he said, calm. Too calm. “I did it on purpose.”

You stared at him, stunned. “Are you insane?”

His hand slid down your spine possessively, slow and deliberate. “No.” he murmured. “Just done pretending.”

Your chest tightened, fury and disbelief tangling with something that felt a lot like fear.

“You can’t just—” you started.

“I already did.” he interrupted. His voice was low, dark, final. “That wasn’t just sex. That was me putting you back where you belong. You’re mine again — deal with it.”

Your mouth opened, then closed.

You should’ve pushed him off. Should’ve screamed, left, anything.

But instead, you laid there, his breath still warm on your skin, trying to decide if the rapid beat of your heart was from panic… or the fact that a part of you liked being wanted this much.

Even if it was twisted.

Even if it was wrong.

© NEPTUNSX, 2025 / do not copy or repost.

[mintyys-blog]

Hellooo!! I saw ur reqs open and I've been a big fan of ur invincible x reader works so I was wondering if you can write about how the different mark variants react to the reader having twins; 1 boy and 1 girl? Or how they inter with the babies?

Regardless if u wanna write about it or not, thank you!

HEADCANON | the variants reacting to you having twins

INVINCIBLE MASTERLIST | WARNINGS: pregnancy, childbirth,

MAIN MARK

Mark was stunned when the doctor first told him it was twins. He blinked at the ultrasound screen, eyes wide, hand clutched tightly in yours. “Two?” he whispered, voice cracking just slightly.

He cried when they were born.

He held your daughter first, cradling her so gently, like she was made of glass. Then came your son, who instantly grabbed Mark’s pinky finger in his tiny hand—and that was it. Mark was a goner.

He’s the kind of dad who doesn’t care how exhausted he is after hero work—he comes home and immediately scoops one of them up. He does the midnight feedings when he can, always humming softly to them, even when his eyes are barely open.

Mark makes it a point to split his attention. He reads storybooks with one on each leg, plays peekaboo until he’s sweating, and narrates entire fights from the day like bedtime stories—censored and dramatic just to make them giggle.

He’s a sucker for when they both reach for him at once. He’ll hold them at the same time, bouncing slightly while pressing kisses to their heads.

“They’re gonna be so strong,” he whispers to you one night, both twins sleeping between you two on the bed. “But we’re gonna make sure they’re kind too.”

SINISTER MARK

Mark never planned on having kids.

He didn’t think he could even want them—not with the life he lived, not with the way he was. But when you told him you were pregnant, he didn’t run. He stared at you in silence, the only sign of emotion a twitch in his jaw. And when you said it was twins, he laughed dryly under his breath and muttered, “Of course.”

He was rough around the edges during the pregnancy—aloof, distant, always out handling things—but when you went into labor, he didn’t leave your side once. Pacing, snapping at the doctors, his hands bloody from someone stupid enough to slow him down on the way in. But when the cries of your son and daughter filled the room?

Everything changed.

He held them awkwardly at first, not used to anything so fragile. But when your daughter blinked up at him with your eyes, and your son grunted softly in his arms?

Sinister Mark melted.

He didn’t show it, of course. He still had that cold, unreadable expression. But he never let them out of his sight. He rocked them gently with one arm while handling intergalactic calls with the other. He never yelled around them. Never used the same tone he used with the rest of the world.

He called them “his little monsters” in a low, amused voice.

And they adored him.

He trained them early—light strength drills, balance, focus. But never pushed too hard. Your daughter was fiery; your son was quiet. He loved them both in his own silent, possessive way. “I don’t care if they burn planets down one day,” he muttered one night, holding them both in the crook of his arms as they dozed. “As long as they come home to you.”

MOHAWK MARK

Mark wasn’t just a ruler—he was the damn Emperor.

People bowed when he walked in. Worlds knelt before his power. He’d fought armies, led conquests, spilled blood on every corner of the galaxy.

But nothing—nothing—prepared him for the moment he held his newborn son and daughter.

He stared down at them like they were made of starlight and gold. Your daughter’s tiny fists curled in his cape. Your son sneezed and made a little sound that had him laughing, almost breathless. The grin that spread across his face was so wide, so genuine, it made even the Viltrumite guards in the room look away.

“This—this is my legacy,” he murmured. “You made something stronger than a throne.”

At home, he was still intense. Still commanding. But softer in subtle ways.

He’d sit on his throne with one twin on each leg, daughter tugging at his hair and son sleeping against his chest while he held council. He’d feed them himself, not trusting anyone else to get it right.

“Only the best,” he’d say, wiping his daughter’s mouth gently with a silk cloth. “They came from you.”

He was so smug about them too. Would not shut up. Would show hologram pics of them mid-battle. “See that? That’s my kid. She threw up on me this morning. Isn’t she perfect?”

You caught him once, dead of night, sneaking into the nursery. His expression completely softened, one massive hand stroking your son’s hair while he whispered Viltrumite lullabies you didn’t even know he remembered.

He never let you carry them up the palace stairs.

You’d try—and he’d just scoop you and both babies up without blinking. “My queen,” he said, kissing your temple, “you gave me the empire I never knew I wanted.”

OMNI MARK

Omni Mark had stared down monsters. He’d broken planets with his bare hands, shattered civilizations, and rewritten the course of history in blood and fire.

But now, in the quiet of your home, he stood before two tiny cradles—his children—and he felt something he hadn’t in centuries:

Uncertainty. A boy and a girl. Twins. Perfectly healthy. Human… and yet, undeniably his.

He didn’t speak when the doctor placed them in his arms. He didn’t blink. He simply looked down at them like he was studying some foreign object. Something he didn’t quite understand.

“Mark,” you whispered from the bed, exhausted but smiling, “they’re waiting to meet their dad.”

He looked up. Then slowly, with the same care he used to disassemble machinery with lethal precision, he cradled them closer to his chest.

“They’re… small,” he said, quietly.

You smiled. “They’re babies.”

He was quiet again. His expression unreadable. You could tell he was thinking—calculating, as if trying to understand how two fragile lives could belong to him. “I don’t know if I’m… built for this,” he admitted after a long silence.

You reached over and touched his hand. “You’re learning. That’s all that matters.” And he did try. His version of love was quiet. Stiff. Awkward. He didn’t baby-talk them or cradle them for fun. He didn’t dote or coo. But he was there. He stood like a sentry when they slept.

He ensured every bottle was measured, every schedule followed. If they cried, he picked them up efficiently, holding them with a stillness that somehow made them calm. He didn’t rock or hum—but his presence was a constant reassurance. Sometimes, you caught him watching them. His eyes weren’t soft. But they were intensely focused.

One night, you walked in to find him holding your daughter, her tiny hand clinging to his cape. He wasn’t saying anything—just standing there in the moonlight, watching her sleep against his chest.

“She doesn’t understand what I am,” he murmured. “She doesn’t need to,” you whispered, walking over to lay your head against his arm. “She only needs to know you’re here.” He didn’t answer. But he stayed there. All night.

With time, he learned their patterns. Knew when they were hungry, tired, scared. He wasn’t affectionate in a traditional sense, but his version of fatherhood was methodical, devoted. Every decision, every gesture, was meant to ensure their survival.

And eventually, something in him shifted.

The first time his daughter reached up to touch his face—he froze. Then, slowly, he leaned into her palm. You watched from the doorway. Tears in your eyes. He still didn’t smile. But when she gurgled, he whispered: “Strong. You’ll be strong.”

He would never be the kind of father to kiss scraped knees or coddle fears. But he would shield them from every threat. He would teach them. Shape them. And if anything ever tried to take them from you—anything—he would make sure it never had the chance to try again.

VILTRUMITE MARK

When Mark brought you back with him, it was a choice—his choice. No council. No advisors. Just him claiming what was his. Pregnancy had come quickly.

But when the medical team delivered the results… and he saw two strong heartbeats on the screen? His expression didn’t change. But his posture did. Straightened spine. Chin slightly raised. A rare, breathless pause.

“Twins?” he repeated, voice low. Controlled. But there was something sharp beneath it—pride. “Two healthy Viltrumite hybrids,” the medic confirmed.

You looked at him, unsure if the news would please him or concern him. He was silent for a long time, arms folded, watching the scan like it was the universe itself unfolding.

Then he said, simply: “Excellent.”

That night, he was rougher in the way he pulled you close—but gentler in the way he touched your stomach. A large hand splayed against the small bump beginning to show, and for the first time in days, he kissed you without dominance—just presence.

He started planning.

Not for one child—but two. Double the training, double the strength, double the legacy. He cleared a sector for their future. Reshaped his schedule. Altered guard patterns around your quarters.

They weren’t even born yet, and he was already reshaping empires.

When your stomach grew round and heavy, he lifted you like it was nothing. When cravings hit, he summoned whatever chefs he trusted. He didn’t understand human symptoms—nausea, mood swings—but he endured them. Listened. Adjusted.

And when you winced in pain one night, he was there. Instantly. Hand on your belly, eyes sharp.

“Is it time?”

“No,” you whispered. “They just kicked.”

He dropped to one knee, resting his forehead against your bump.

“Good,” he murmured. “Fight. Even in the womb.”

By the time the twins arrived—one boy, one girl—he held them like future generals, analyzing every sound, every twitch.

But when your daughter grabbed his finger for the first time, he stilled. Truly stilled. Then, with quiet authority, he looked to you and said: “She will lead.”

“And our son?” you asked, smiling through exhaustion. He looked at the boy in his arms. “He will protect her.”

And you knew in that moment—beneath all the violence, beneath the cold rule—there was something real. His love didn’t need to be spoken. It would be carved into the future.

SHIESTY MARK

Mark was not built to be a dad. Or, that’s what everyone would’ve assumed. But then the twins came—one boy, one girl—and everything went sideways in a way he actually liked.

They screamed. A lot. Shitted on him. A lot. One threw up on his chest. He didn’t even flinch. “You little fucker,” he coughed, bouncing the tiny boy in one hand, wiping his face with a towel like this wasn’t the third shirt he’d gone through today.

And he meant that with love. Mark adored those babies like they were his entire world—but holy shit, he had no filter around them. None.

When you got home from grabbing groceries, you found him in the living room with both of them propped in a giant pillow nest like royalty, Mark crouched in front of them pointing at toys.

“Okay, this one’s a fuckin’ dragon,” he told them, holding it up dramatically. “He bites the fuckin’ shit outta anyone who tries you, alright?” You stared at him, jaw dropped. “Mark!”

“What?” He blinked innocently, like he hadn’t just made ‘fuckin’ shit’ the babies’ first lullaby. “I’m bonding with my son and daughter. You don’t want ‘em growin’ up soft, do you?”

…You ignored him.

Until two weeks later. Your daughter dropped her sippy cup. Looked you dead in the eye. And said, clear as day: “Shit.” You dropped the baby spoon in your hand. Slowly turned toward him. “Mark.” He was howling. “That’s my girl,” he said proudly, arms crossed.

You dragged him by the shirt collar into the other room. “You taught our children swear words?!”

“They gotta learn someday!”

“Not before they can say mama.”

“But they can say ‘fuck’ now.” You stared at him, seething. “I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.” He grabbed your wrist, pulled you close, grinning. “You just hate that they love me more than you already.”

“You’re a menace.”

“You married a menace.”

Later that night, he was lying in bed with both babies asleep on his chest. Your son was drooling. Your daughter had her tiny fist balled in his shirt.

And Shiesty Mark, the reckless, trash-mouthed bastard you fell in love with, was whispering: “I’ll kill anyone who fucks with you two. Y’hear me? Anyone. You’re mine now.” You watched him from the doorway, leaning against the frame. Still disappointed? Sure. But also… a little in love with him all over again.

PRISONER MARK

Mark never thought he’d see freedom again—let alone fall in love, let alone have a family.

When you told him you were pregnant, he’d stared at you in disbelief. Like you were a hallucination. A dream conjured up by a man who’d been through too much, lost too much. Twins? That was the part that made him sit down.

“…You serious?” he asked softly, as if saying it too loud might shatter the moment. But he stepped up.

He didn’t care that he had to wear disguises, that he had to duck and hide every time he left the house. If it meant keeping you and the babies safe, he’d burn himself out to do it. He’d bring home groceries with shaky hands, bruises from a fight he never told you about, smiling just because you greeted him at the door in one of his hoodies, the twins’ names already written on little post-its over the fridge.

He nearly cried during the birth. Tried to hide it—failed miserably.

He whispered to both of them that night, laying beside your hospital bed, holding one in each arm. “You’re safe now,” he promised. “No one’s ever taking you from me.”

He was so attentive. You’d wake up at 2am and he’d already be feeding one of them, quietly humming some old Earth song he barely remembered the lyrics to. He was protective in a lowkey, constant way—checking the locks three times, always standing between you and a window, never letting his kids out of his sight. His daughter liked to pull his hoodie strings while he was holding her. His son liked to curl up on his chest and nap.

Prisoner Mark was softer than the others in those moments. He smiled more. He relaxed—only around you and them. He’d lie in bed with you at night, watching them sleep in the bassinet beside you. “…Do you think they’ll ever have to see the kind of world I did?” he asked once.

You answered, “Not if we can help it.” He nodded. “Good. ‘Cause I’ll kill the world before I let it touch them.”

[074calicocat]

FOR ME ؛ ଓ

cw: joel is very casually called daddy here because idc, that's literally daddy right there. minor mentions of blood/head injury. a little corny tbh 🥀

notes: even if this is about Jackson!Joel, episode two never existed and if you say different you're getting hashtag blocked (joke). life has me by the balls in a very unsexy way but I wrote this on the train in my notes app. "omg you write fanfiction on the train??" I once saw someone beat their meat on the train, I promise you this is fine.

"What would you do without me, Joel?"

Joel is just there. On the couch, head tilted back as he holds a clump of snow to his head. The sight would be almost comedic if it wasn't for the fact the snow was marred with flecks of blood. His blood.

It's not even noon. You told him to stay in bed as you ran some errands in town but when does he ever listen? it's like talking to a brick wall.

You kick off your boots and pad your way towards him, his disgruntlement clear as he tries to turn away from you. But he just looks like a fussy child avoiding their mother, his lips pulled down into what looked like a pout. "I'm fine. Really."

"What happened?"

"...Slipped on the steps. They're fucking iced over."

If you were a shittier lover, you might have laughed. But instead you're making your way between his legs to pry his hand off his face.

Joel is like a feral stray cat. Even if you've been his for so long, he tenses up at your touch, like he's about to strike you. But his fists never come and with a drawn-out sigh he lets you care for him, moving his hand and brushing the snow away so you can get a look at the gash on his forehead.

Huh. "It's actually...not that bad. Like, I've seen you take worse so you're gonna be fine."

"That's it?" There's a hint of snark in his voice, but the gentle grin on his lips says something different. "You're not gonna patch me up or anything? No get-better-soon kisses?"

"You ask for too much," you scoff but soon enough you're in his lap, straddling his thigh as you cup his face. "I keep telling you to take it easy, Daddy. You gotta relax, you've gone through a century's worth of hurt."

And he's doing that thing again where his face goes all stiff. It hurts to see it. Some habits can't be unlearned so easily. His cheeks can round out and he can gain some tummy, but the need to just do something can't go away so easily. The guilt of being able to rest when others are gone from this world can't go away so easily. Even with all your honeyed words and soothing caresses, there's only so much you can do for Joel.

"Take it easy, Daddy. For me." You card your hands through his hair, silently admiring the silver streaks in them. Despite all odds, look at him. Still alive and kicking and fussing. Joel has always been stronger than what you could ever be. "I love you."

You lean in and press your lips against the cut and taste his blood. It's fairly metallic but still sweet as ever. That's your man- that's your daddy. You love him even if he snores painfully loud and often elbows you in the ribs when you sleep together.

A beat of silence passes and he finally eases into your hands, his nose brushing against your palm. Vulnerability seeps into his expression and the crinkle between his brows goes away.

It's a good look on Joel.

[akira-dulbar]

Servant of Evil

Damián Wayne x Twin Reader

Summary: You weren't supposed to be born, but you'd still give your life to your brother. He was the heir to the demon's head, the son of the bat, the prince, while you were his most faithful servant, his servant of evil.

Warnings: Yandere Reader. (?), Image taken from Pinterest and Ai.

The blue lyrics are the song.

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

They've always told you the same thing since you were a baby.

You weren't supposed to be born.

Your mother, Thalia, and your grandmother only wanted one heir, not two, and although they could have killed you, they didn't, perhaps out of mercy, and perhaps to be your brother's most faithful servant. You don't know that, and you don't care.

"You will be the prince, I am your faithful servant."

From a young age, Damian was raised to become a worthy heir to the title of two great lineages, that of his mother and that of his father.

He studied and trained in everything, striving to be the best of the best, to become like his father. He never complained, never got upset, he just obeyed.

Meanwhile, you were different. Although you studied and trained like your twin, it wasn't to become an heir to the great lineage from which you came, but to be your brother's servant.

You studied to be useful to him, you trained to be his sword and shield. You were raised to be loyal, to serve him, to not doubt him, to obey him. And just like Damian, you didn't complain, you didn't get upset, you obeyed, you obeyed him.

"Fate separated the path between you and me."

When you met Jason, your first thought was that he wanted to steal what you loved so much. That was your position as Damian's servant, and Damian himself.

He was stronger, faster, and much more helpful than you were at the time, and you hated him for it. When he first arrived, you didn't see him as a threat. He was like a zombie when he arrived, skinny, malnourished, and half-dead. But when your mother took him to a room where a green light emanated from, everything changed. A Monster, as you liked to call him, the size of a suitor, with the strength of a lion, and the loyalty of a disciple.

When Damian had a problem, he would appear as if summoned and end up helping him, and you would stay there… without having been of any use.

You also hated it when your brother got involved in fights, helping him land the final blow in training as if the two of you belonged in those positions, and that wasn't the case. You were his servant, his sword and shield, not him. You didn't understand why he wanted to steal that position from you when Damián already had you.

And what you hated most was that he treated you like an equal instead of Damián's loyal servant. You imagined he only wanted to win your affection and then make you betray Damián, which you would never do for anything in your life. You'd rather die than betray your brother.

"You're not a servant." Jason stared at you as he said that, which puzzled you. The two of you were in the training room. He was training while you cleaned your brother's katanas. This was a great honor since Damian didn't let anyone touch his weapons. Letting you do it was a sign of mutual trust between the two of you, something not even Jason could match.

"You don't have to clean Damian's things; you're not his servant."

"Cleaning the prince's things is an honor not just anyone can have, not even you." Speaking like that to your mother's favorite toy wouldn't be well received and there would surely be punishment, but since it was just the two of you, you didn't think there would be a problem. After all, he was being too mean.

"Kid, what are you? His twin or his servant?" You were surprised by his courage. After all, it was strictly forbidden to say that you were Damian's twin because that would make it known that there were two heirs instead of one, and it wasn't the right thing to do. That's why you weren't even recognized as an Al Ghul, but rather as one of his faithful servants. If Jason said that you were the twin of Al Ghul's heir, it would get Jason punished, regardless of the fact that he was Talia's favorite toy, and right now, that was what you wanted most.

"I am the sword and shield of the Al Ghul heir, his most faithful servant. How dare you believe I have the blood of two great bloodlines like the prince himself?"

"Is that what helps you sleep?"

"Are you making fun of me?"

"No, you're just a child. You're not supposed to believe yourself to be someone's servant, or even think of sacrificing yourself for them."

"You don't know how much of an honor it is to be the faithful servant of the Al Ghul heir. After all, you're just Lady Talia's favorite toy. Wait until I tire of you." You saw Jason's eyes darken and turn bright neon green. For a moment, you felt like you had said something you shouldn't have.

After that, Jason said nothing and just continued training, while you continued with your work of cleaning your brother's weapons.

"If it's to protect you, I wouldn't mind becoming a worthy slave to evil."

When there were some who doubted your brother as the heir of Al Ghul, you didn't hesitate to follow his orders.

"Kill them," Damian said in front of you, looking at you as if only you were capable of carrying out such an important mission.

"As I ordered, prince." Then you took one of your katanas and filled it with the blood of those who doubted your brother. He was the heir. There can be no traitors or those who doubt him.

If you had to kill everything that stood in your way, so be it.

"We had to be born within expectations."

Damian Al Ghul, the heir, you, his most faithful servant, who would give his life so the prince could rise to the abyss and power.

"If the whole world were to go against your will, I will be there to enforce it."

There were a pile of corpses around you, some of those who dared to doubt your brother, others of those who tried to kill him, and still others you didn't know what they had done, but your prince had given his will, and you fulfilled it. "Kill those who wish for my downfall." "Yes, my Prince."

"So never stop smiling."

Damian rarely smiled in the league, but you still did your best to make him happy. You fed birds so they'd land on your hands and ran to show them to Damian only to get a smile from him. You sneaked into the dog training room and took out one of his smallest puppies to show Damian, who happily held them and smiled when they wagged their tails.

He was happy, and because of that, you were happy with him. You wouldn't let anyone separate you, not Jason, not his mother, not his grandfather. The League would never make you betray your brother. He was your prince, and you were his servant. No one would ever separate you, I promise you that.

"Will you serve me loyally until death?"

"Always my prince."

"Very soon, I'm going to fight with my mother to finally meet our father. Will you come with me as a faithful servant?"

"I am your sword and shield, I will be your shadow and your loyal servant. Behead me if you think I'm lying in my promise."

"So be it."

"You will be the prince, I am your faithful servant"

--------

What do you think? Did you like it? Do you want part 2? I do want part 2. I want to do more with this theme, but I don't know what else to do. Any ideas?

Anyway, I don't know much English.

[amilocket]

──── ♯⠀𝙇𝙄𝙑𝙀 𝙒𝙄𝙏𝙃 𝙇𝙊𝙑𝙀, 𝙈𝙔𝘿𝙀𝙄𝙈𝙊𝙎

synopsis. mydei is a doomed character, this means his love is also doomed.

contents. characters death 𝜗𝜚 doomed lovers trope 𝜗𝜚 fem!reader 𝜗𝜚 angst 𝜗𝜚 bad ending 𝜗𝜚 not beta read we raw dogging it 𝜗𝜚 listened to 'would you fall in love with me again - epic'.

The Prince of Kremenos was a brave warrior. A true king, loyal to his subjects and a wonderful husband. You knew him since you two were little. Oh how you remember sneaking off to watch him train. Bright ruby eyes filled with a passion, hands roughed up from nonstop training. 

You remember how he would greet you with a smile, how he would chase you around the plains- arms seeking yours. You remember the squeals you let out, begging him to get his sweats away from you or at least take a shower. 

How he would catch you, how you would roll down the small hill. Laughter and bright smiles, two pieces of a puzzle completing each other. 

As you grow older, so do your feelings. From a priceless friendship to a sweet love. You knew of his fate, you knew how he was banished, how much he had suffered. You accepted him whole, flaws and strengths.

Mydei noticed. 

You were the one soul he promised to die for. The one beauty he would defend. 

He loved you from youth. And his love only grew. 

Mydei worried over how obvious his love was. The tips of his ears would flush red at each smile you give, heart hammered inside his ribcage, hands clammy from nervousness. 

He worried even more when he thought you loved another. He had nothing to his name, Mydei convinced himself you will never choose him. But your eyes were always on him. His strawberry blond hair, his sparkling ruby eyes, the baked goods he gives out to children, his hidden care.

It took a lot of effort from your comrades and a few gossipy children for you to admit your feelings for each other. And a few years later, your ring finger was adorned with a mesmerizing ruby. 

You stayed by each other's side, even as your comrades fell, even as you were all alone. You stuck together. Fear of losing your lover ate you alive. 

When you reached Okhema City, you wanted to start anew. You wanted to live to the fullest, you wanted to honour your fallen friends. But the fear stayed. It only grew stronger when Mydei became a Chrysos Heir. The idea of Mydei losing his life one day tore you apart. Will anguish follow your every step?

Mydei reassured you he will never leave you. (“ The ring in your hand isn’t just for decoration, it’s a promise. I will stay by your side until you get rid of me. “). The storm calmed down, but remained nonetheless. 

And for a moment, you forgot he wasn’t the only one in danger. 

The black tide was merciless. Swallowing anything in its way, it was an inevitable death. And when the tide came, it tore you from Mydeimos’ hands. Leaving only your ring as a proof you once lived. 

Sorrows and anguish. 

Mydeimos lived with them longer than he would have liked. But he pressed on, though the deaths of his comrades took a heavy toll on him-he had you by his side. Mydeimos was only able to continue on because you were his soul. But as he sat next to your grave, a bouquet of your favourite laid against the stone with your name engraved. 

Reality struck him. Mydeimos became a hollow shell, soul ripped from him. 

And for the first time since your wedding, Mydei cried. But this time, he didn’t have you to comfort him. 

(“ Live, Mydeimos. “

“ Why curse me, my love? “)

{　All rights reserved © 2025 𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐓. Please do not copy, rewrite, or translate my works on Tumblr or any other platform.　}

[httpvomitello]

childhood best friends to lovers trope featuring Joaquin Torres and Y/N, with the high school-to-reunion glow-up vibe

You hadn’t seen Joaquin since graduation—the last time he hugged you, he still smelled like cheap cologne and high school cafeteria fries. Now, standing in front of you in that perfectly fit flight jacket, he was taller, stronger, but somehow still had the same boyish spark in his eyes. “Still remember our late-night pact?” he asked, that crooked grin tugging at your heart like it always did. You laughed, but your pulse skipped—because the truth was, you remembered everything: the way he used to walk you home, the time he almost kissed you at prom, and how he promised he’d find you again. And now he had.

sorry for the long paragraph

But when they reunited can you do like where Sam and Bucky are there

I hope you like it ~ ☆

Almost Promises .｡*���ﾟﾟ

Summary: Now, at a military reunion where you’re just a guest, Joaquin Torres stands in front of you in his flight jacket, grown into himself in every way, with the same soft spark in his eyes.

joaquin torres x f!reader

It was after graduation, under a streetlight that flickered like a bad memory. He smelled like cheap cologne, cafeteria fries, and a little bit of nerves. You were both eighteen, slightly buzzed on freedom, and he hugged you like he didn’t want to let go.

“You’ll find someone cooler in the Air Force,” you joked, tugging on his gown sleeve.

He grinned, that crooked boyish grin. “Nah. Not possible.”

You rolled your eyes. “Promise you won’t disappear?”

He looked at you. Really looked at you. “Promise I’ll find you again.”

And then he kissed your cheek—barely missed your lips—and walked away into the night.

You didn’t see him again.

You didn’t really want to be here.

Only reason you showed up was because your cousin, Sam Wilson, pulled the family card.

“Just for a few hours,” he’d begged. “There’s food, music, probably some retired generals you can impress.”

“You mean terrify.”

He grinned. “Same thing.”

So you put on a dress, threw your hair up, and walked into a room full of medals, uniforms, and champagne flutes.

Bucky Barnes was already by the bar, looking eternally unamused in a dark suit. You made a beeline for him. He gave you a small nod, like a silent “hey.”

“You hiding too?” you asked, sipping your drink.

He smirked. “Always.”

And that’s when you heard the laugh.

That laugh.

You froze mid-sip. It was louder, deeper now. But unmistakable.

You turned—and there he was.

Joaquin Torres.

Wearing a perfectly fitted Air Force flight jacket over his blues, taller than you remembered, broader too. But his eyes? Still held that same warm spark. Mischievous and soft all at once.

He looked right at you.

And smiled.

“No way,” he said, crossing the floor like he hadn’t aged a day. “You’re here?”

Your brain short-circuited. “I—yeah. I’m here. You—damn, Torres.”

That made him laugh. “Still remember our late-night pact?”

Your heart actually skipped. You tried to play it cool. “You mean the one where you swore you’d come find me and then ghosted for almost a decade?”

He winced dramatically. “Okay. Yeah. Fair. But look—I’m here now.”

“And I’m supposed to believe that was part of the plan?”

He leaned in slightly, his grin softer now. “I never stopped meaning it.”

You felt your face warm.

“Sam didn’t say you’d be here,” you mumbled.

“He doesn’t know. It’s a last-minute drop-in. Recon training group is in town for a few days, and I tagged along.”

You tried to hide the flutter in your chest. “Guess you grew up.”

He chuckled. “Yeah, and so did you. Not that you needed it—you were always ten years ahead of me.”

Bucky slid up beside you, raising an eyebrow at Joaquin. “You flirting or reminiscing, Lieutenant?”

You jumped. “Oh my God, Bucky.”

Joaquin gave him a look. “Both. Respectfully.”

Sam appeared from behind, clapping a hand on Joaquin’s shoulder. “So you did find her again.”

You blinked. “Wait—you knew?”

Sam gave you a smug look. “Kid’s been asking about you every time he stops by. I just didn’t want to get your hopes up.”

Joaquin shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck. “Told you I’d find you.”

You stood by the edge of the rooftop, heels in hand, city lights glittering below. The air was cool, and for once, you felt like you could breathe.

Joaquin appeared beside you, two drinks in hand. “Peace offering.”

You raised a brow. “What for?”

“For being a dumbass and not messaging sooner.”

You took the glass. “Apology accepted.”

There was a pause. Comfortable. Charged.

“You look good,” he said. “Like… damn.”

You laughed. “You clean up alright too.”

“I thought about writing,” he admitted. “A lot. Just didn’t know what to say.”

“So you decided to wait eight years and say it in person?”

He smiled crookedly. “Yeah. I figured it was the only way I’d get it right.”

You sipped your drink, trying not to stare. “You almost kissed me at prom.”

“I almost did a lot of things,” he murmured.

The silence after that was heavy with everything unsaid.

He turned to face you. “Still too late?”

You didn’t answer.

You just leaned in and rested your head on his shoulder.

He let out a breath like he’d been holding it for years.

And for now, that was your answer.

[tinytownn]

back to back – one-shot

roronoa zoro x [tall!]f!reader

word count: 1.3k

summary: based off of this request...

content: sword training, reassuring zoroooo, cute lil blurb!!, for this post and most op fics going forward the character will have giant scissors as a weapon (picture sheele’s extase from akame ga kill), no use of y/n

leave all requests here…

a/n: [UNEDITED] thank you to the person who requested this!! i formed the concept of back to back fighting as soon as i read this and wrote like three different blurbs on it so be prepared to see this concept again hehehe (also will i ever quit it with the b titles??)

—

The crew had first found you passed out on the beach, body tangled in seaweed and caked in sand. All you had with you was a makeshift board you’d drifted on and your weapon–a giant pair of scissors strapped to your back.

Your battle with the ocean left you barely conscious, limbs weak and breaths shallow. But Chopper was quick to heal you and bring you back to health, while Sanji spoiled you with home cooked meals. The rest of the crew hovered over you–curious and kind–until you got back onto your feet.

Luffy was immediately amazed by your weapon. “Ooo! These are so cool!” He had said, grabbing at the handles. “You have to join my crew!” 

You looked up at him, weakly nodded, and just like that, you were in.

Weeks passed aboard the Sunny. You were welcomed no doubt, but the sheer strength of the Strawhats started to weigh on you. Every day brought new displays of impossible power and it chipped away at your confidence. You began to feel like dead weight, like a weak link in the chain.

So, the next morning, you turned to the person that exuded strength with every waking breath: Zoro.

His fighting style was similar to yours–his swords, your shears–and you figured if anyone could get you stronger, it would be him. But Zoro didn’t train like anyone else. He was relentless when he was committed to something. No breaks. No mercy. Just pure bone breaking effort until he succeeded or collapsed.  

The rest of the crew had tried to warn you, but you simply just shrugged them off. “He’s insane.” Usopp warned. “You’ll give up by lunch.” Even Sanji tried to talk you out of it. But you were determined.

At six a.m., you climbed into the crow’s nest. The second you opened the door, the sound of clanking metal rang out—sharp and rhythmic. Zoro was already lifting, a monstrous weight in each hand, the floor groaning beneath him. His back was to you, muscles tense and rippling with every rep, sweat glistening down the curves of his shoulder blades.

Your breath caught in your throat.

“You just gonna stand there?” Zoro’s voice cracked through the air. “Or you gonna pick up some weights?” 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” you said, hurriedly walking up to him.

“You didn’t,” he replied, not missing a beat. “Rule number one of being a great swordsman: never leave your back unattended.”

You blinked. “Even while lifting?”

“Especially while lifting.”

He turned, grabbing two swords from a barrel in the corner and tossed one to you. Grasping the hilt in your hands, you wriggled your fingers to the unfamiliar feeling.

“I’m not used to holding one of these…” you mumbled. 

Zoro raised a brow. “I use three. You’ll be fine.”

He turned again, exposing that pristine, unmarked back. “The greatest dishonor as a swordsman is to have an injury here,” he said, voice low, like it came from deep in his chest.

Nervous, you took a step forward. Compared to Zoro, you felt huge—your height always set you apart, but next to him, it made you feel clumsy. You held the sword awkwardly, lifting it into position.

Taking your bottom lip between your teeth, you charged forward. The sword was lighter than what you were used to, your shears taking two hands just to get a steady grasp. You could easily maneuver the blade through the air, hearing the slices in the wind. 

In one fluid motion, before the tip of the sword pressed into his back, Zoro propelled himself upwards. You watched in awe as the brawny man launched himself into the air with ease. He took advantage of the distraction and his boot landed onto the blade of your sword, ripping it from your hands. The sword clunked to the wood and was held firmly under Zoro’s boot, a smug grin on his face as his eyes met yours.

“How did you- ?”

“You’ve got a good reach.” he said, eyes glancing at your legs with a teasing smirk. “But you’ve got to move quicker.”

–

It had been two years since you first walked out of the crows nest that day. The rest of your crew stood outside, huddled over one another in hopes to hear what was going on. No one had managed to train with Zoro for so long. But the both of you had been in there for hours.

It was tiring work, but the glint in your eye and immediate intrigue softened something in Zoro. He had made it his duty to train you for the next few years. The days went by fast and your strength only grew under his watch. The two of you became unstoppable.

“Just one more time.” Zoro said, stepping closer, He firmly pressed the weapon back into your palms with a stern look.

“Zo’ I can’t. My arms are gonna fall off.” You groaned.

“You’ve handled worse.”

You scowled at him, but your fingers curled around the handle. The two of you turned, backs pressed together. He straightened, lining up with your shoulders—though your longer torso made you taller than him. The top of his hair brushed just below your chin and you smirked as he grumbled, “Don’t get cocky.”

The quiet nudge of his shoulder was the signal. You pushed off each other in opposite directions, flipping mid-air and landing with your blades out—tips extended to keep anyone between you in a slicing grip.

Your muscles screamed. Sweat ran down your spine. Your shears clattered to the ground when you could no longer hold them.

Zoro didn’t hesitate. He sheathed his swords and wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you upright against his chest. “C’mere,” he whispered, lowering your head to his shoulder. “You did so good.”

Your eyes fluttered shut and you leaned into him. Despite the soreness, you felt safe. Grounded.

Still, frustration crept in.

“My form’s still sloppy,” you mumbled. “I can’t hold my scissors steady in the air. I’m too tall—too off-balance. It feels like I’m just putting a bigger target on your back.”

Zoro stiffened. He pulled away just enough to look at you, his hands moving to your shoulders.

“Don’t say that,” he said sharply. “I trust you behind me more than anyone. You think your height’s a weakness? It’s not. It gives you range, power, perspective. I need that.”

Your eyes dropped to the floor, his intensity too much to bear. Zoro sighed and leaned down slightly to meet your gaze.

“Whoever made you feel like a burden is an idiot. Your height is not slowing me down. You’re pushing me forward.”

The heat in your chest bloomed. You shifted under his stare, suddenly shy. “You’re just saying that because you like my legs.”

“Damn right I do,” he grinned, hands grazing your thighs with a playful squeeze. “Thank the gods you use ‘em for sword fighting and not whatever the hell that lovecook does.”

You laughed. “Little do you know, I’ve been getting lessons from him too.”

Zoro growled and suddenly hoisted you over his shoulder. “Oh yeah? Let’s see what you’ve got, chef.”

“Zoro- !” you shrieked, squirming in his grip. He tossed you onto the couch, looming over you with a smug grin.

From this angle, with you sprawled beneath him, the height difference flipped. Zoro towered you now, sweat-slick muscles framing his intense gaze.

Your breath hitched. “You’re the better teacher anyways.”

Zoro’s grin widened and he leaned down, brushing his lips on yours. “Don’t have much to teach you anymore. You’re kickin’ my ass half the time.”

“You love it,” you laughed, pulling him into a kiss by the collar.

You let the rest of the world fade away, your insecurity short lived with the reassuring man resting in your arms.

—

a special thanks to my taglist ♡ (message me to be added or removed)

[konigsblog]

CW: NON-CONSENSUAL THEMES. 🔞

Toxic!Gym-Bro!König is the type to sneak a couple perverted images of your naked body while you're showering in the gym washrooms, cleaning yourself of the dirt and grime collected at the gym, oblivious to König's watchful gaze, how he fantasies about controlling you in the most psychotic and vile ways.

König isn't one to say that he has a gym crush, that he's fallen head over heels for a complete strangle who he's never noticed before. Sure, he's come across plenty of jaw dropping and attractive women he'd love to bend over into a plethora of positions and have his way with, but he's never felt this way for someone before, this uncontrollable urge to have you. He'll blame it on you when you finally catch a glimpse of his sick behaviour, all while he excuses himself by shaming you for wearing such tight fitting shorts at a public gym, practically begging to be touched and groped.

He'll spot you, stand above you while you lift weights, his growing and pulsating crotch a mere inch from your face as he leans down, hunched over and practically forcing you to breathe in his sweaty, gross musk, your eyes watering and your supple, tense thighs trembling.

Oh, you'll never overpower him. No matter how hard you train.

[little-shadow-club]

Something something Esil, Haein and Juhee would in fact make the best group of besties ever because all they want in life is to have a normal life (Haein being away from constant work, Juhee learning to live with her trauma, Esil living for something more than what she was designed to do), unfortunately they met the most abnormal guy in the world. Nein, in the universe.

[mattplsh]

working out consistently is insane it’s been like 6 months and my arms are the biggest theyve ever been and I dont even feel like ive been working that hard

[harrysfolklore]

i see your face in every crowd - op81

summary: the asutralian grand prix is right around the corner and oscar's face is everywhere in melbourne, his ex girlfriend can't help but miss him (he misses her too)

folkie radio: if you know me you know i'm a sucker for an exes to lovers trope, and honestly this one is one of my faves i've ever done. ENJOY AND LEAVE FEEDBACK

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

liked by oliviarodrigo, lando and 2,107,399 others

yourinstagram back home for a bit... needed some time to reset & breathe. been writing loads lately - the songs are just pouring out 🌊 feeling more inspired than ever tbh. can't wait to share what i've been working on with u all soon. huge thank u for all the love lately, means more than u know xx

view all comments

username1 BABYYYY

username2 i'm happy she's home and surrounded by love

sabrinacarpenter miss ur face already 😭 these songs are about to end lives fr

chappellroan THEYRE NOT READY FOR WHAT'S COMING!!! also pls come back to LA soon i'm dying without u

username3 chappellynbrina is a forever thing

username4 the way melbourne gp is gonna be so awkward next month...

└ username1 why does everyone have to make everything about that 🙄 let them live

└ username2 no fr like can we focus on the music instead

username5 oscar ain't shit anyway, ur so much better without him queen

└ username3 y'all don't even know what happened, stop being toxic

└ username6 they literally both asked for privacy can u respect that maybe

alexandrasaintmleux being home suits u sm! can't wait for the new era

└ username2 once a wag always a wag

username7 THE BREAKUP ALBUM IS COMING AND IM HERE FOR IT

username8 take all the time u need but also pls drop a song soon we're starving 😩

lando yooo text me when you get the chance !

└ username1 THEIR FRIENDSHIP LIVES

└username2 oscar piastri you can't break this one

username9 some of y'all are being so mean for no reason, they were cute together and now they're not, it happens

username10 manifesting a collab with sabrina on this album 🕯️

liked by lando, alex_albon and 467,958 others

oscarpiastri Last few days of prep before heading home for the season opener. Ready 💪

view all comments

username1 THATS MY BABY GOAT

username2 we're so taking that wdc this year

lando looking a bit weak mate might need another few months of training

└ oscarpiastri stick to gaming mate

└ carlossainz55 Children, behave 😂

└ username1 THIS INTERACTION

username3 we're so back. man's entering his thirst trap era and we love to see it

└ username1 healing through gym pics, real

username4 the transformation from rookie to absolute unit we love to see it

username5 melbourne's gonna go crazy for him

└ username2 the city will be pretty much covered with his face

username7 the post-breakup glow >>>>>>

username8 bro said watch me get faster AND hotter

username9 yn is stronger than me bc i definitely would've given him another chance

georgerussell63 Looking strong 💪🏼

└ lando but still slower than me

└ oscarpiastri We'll see about that mate

└ username3 WHAT IS LANDO'S PROBLEM

aussiegp Our hometown hero getting ready to give us a show 🇦🇺

username10 YN GET BACK WITH HIM I BEGGG

liked by shortandbrina, livbedumb and 119 others

definitelynotyn not me stalking his instagram at 2am with a glass of rosé in hand... why he gotta post gym pics looking like THAT 😭 someone take my phone away fr because what if i do something stupid like text him rn???? also why does he have to look so good while training I HATE HIM

view all comments

shortandbrina girl DELETE instagram rn i'm not joking!! calling u in 2 mins

└ definitelynotyn too late i already watched his story 3 times help

midwestprincess this is why we don't drink wine alone bestie... coming over with ice cream and we're watching mean girls

└ definitelynotyn pls hurry before i do something stupid like listen to our playlist

livbedumb first rule of breakups: BLOCK THE GYM PROGRESS POSTS!!!! trust me on this one

└ definitelynotyn but what if i just want to check if he's doing okay 🥲

└ gracieeeeee she's lost it completely someone intervene

arithegood not me literally writing a song about this exact situation last week 💀 wine drunk stalking is universal bestie

└ definitelynotyn pls send me the song i just know it'll hurt so good

phoebenotbuffay okay but like... we've all been there 😭 remember when i almost texted #him after he decided to walk around in those short shorts

└ definitelynotyn at least urs wasn't wearing race suits that make his arms look like THAT

whostaylorswiftanyway time to write a song about it bestie x

└ definitelynotyn already got three verses and a bridge done ngl

liked by username1, username2 and 6,974 others

f1updates Melbourne is getting ready for the Australian GP! The city is covered in @/oscarpiastri billboards and posters as they prepare to welcome their home hero

view all comments

username1 imagine being yn trying to get coffee and boom there's your ex's face on a 50ft billboard 💀

username2 the way you literally can't escape his face anywhere in the cbd this week

username3 the way this gp would've been so different if they were still together... remember last year?

└ username1 they were the cutest in the paddock

└ username2 pls she probably won't even be in melbourne this year

username4 our boy is everywhere and we love to see it!!

username5 the promotional team really said oscar piastri world domination

username6 the billboards are giving everything they need to give tbh

username7 maybe she should drop the breakup album during race week for maximum chaos

└ username1 now that would be iconic behavior

└ username3 the way the charts and the podium would be fighting for his attention

username8 MELBOURNE IS OSCARLAND

username9 imagine not being an oscar fan rn… or worse, being his ex

username10 CAN SOMEBODY THINK OF OUR GIRL YN

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

liked by lando, charles_leclerc and 597,388 others

oscarpiastri Seems like there's a few of me around Melbourne at the moment... has anyone noticed? 😅

view all comments

username1 OSCAR FUCKING PIASTRI

username2 HE DID NOT

lando bit of an upgrade for the city tbh └ oscarpiastri Better than your face mate

username3 OH HE'S MESSY FOR THIS ONE

└ username1 posting this RIGHT after her story i'm screaming

username4 he chose violence today and i'm here for it

mclaren Our guy's everywhere! Can't wait for the weekend 🧡

└ username2 admin pretending they don't see what's happening here

username5 THE TIMING OF THIS POST??? someone's feeling petty

username6 he really said "oh you can't escape me? let me show you why" 💀

georgerussell63 Just ran into your face in the airport

username7 the way he probably had these pics ready and WAITED

username8 bro saw her story and chose chaos

danielricciardo looking good mate! although i remember when it was my face everywhere 👴 └ oscarpiastri Times change old man

username9 it's giving "oh you miss seeing me? here's more" energy actually

username10 focusing on the important stuff: he looks good in every single billboard

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

liked by harrystyles, sabrinacarpenter and 1,389,647 others

yourinstagram missing tour life so much today! can't wait to get back on the road and see all your beautiful faces again 💕 thankful for the memories we've made together x

view all comments

username1 MY GIRL I MISS HER

username2 the way she posted this exactly after THAT story... we see you

└ username3 damage control era

troyesivan SUPERSTAR 🤩🤩

username4 girl we know what (who) you're really missing

└ username2 not her trying to distract us 😭

username5 we're not fooled bestie but we support you

sabrinacarpenter miss you too angel!! ❤️

└ yourinstagram love you sabs 🥺

username6 NOT THE DAMAGE CONTROL POST

username7 WE NEED A TOUR ASAP

gracieabrams I miss being on the road with you 🥹🥹

username8 EVERYONE TALKIG ABOUT OSCAR HELP

username9 can we talk about how good she looked on tour though??

username10 the way she's probably sitting with sabrina rn planning damage control posts

└ username11 the group chat must be WILD right now

liked by midwestprincess, livbedumb and 109 others

definitelynotyn well. something just came in the mail and i think i might actually throw up. universe really said "you thought that instagram story wasn't enough embarrassment for one day?"

view all comments

shortnbrina GIRL CHECK YOUR TEXTS RN

└ definitelynotyn I'M HAVING A CRISIS

midwestprincess the way i SPRINTED here when you texted

└ definitelynotyn help what do i do

└ midwestprincess BREATHE FIRST

gracieeee wait is that what i think it is? 🏁

└ definitelynotyn 🙃🙃🙃

└ gracieeee OH MY GOD????

livbedumb the timing… someone's been plotting

└ definitelynotyn don't. i can't think about that.

maddiebeer okay but like… are you going?

└ definitelynotyn MADS PLS I'M ALREADY SPIRALING

└ maddiebeer that's not a no 👀

arithegood manifesting a rain delay so you have to stay longer

└ definitelynotyn I HAVEN'T EVEN DECIDED IF I'M GOING

└ arithegood sure jan

phoebenotbuffay imagine if you'd actually posted this on main too

└ definitelynotyn DON'T EVEN JOKE ABOUT THAT

└ phoebenotbuffay too soon? 😂

dulapeep at least you have time to plan outfits

└ definitelynotyn NOT HELPING

└ dulapeep the green dress. trust me.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

liked by lando, charles_leclerc and 665,583 others

oscarpiastri Close. Bring on tomorrow

view all comments

username1 THATS MY BABY GOAT

username2 oscar piastri man of few words

username3 pole position if he was still with yn

mclaren Our home champ 🧡

username4 OKAY CHAT DO WE THINK YN WILL ATTEND THE RACE??

└ username1 maybe focus on racing?? this isn't about his ex

lando sorry about that

└ oscarpiastri Should've just let me keep it

username5 can't help but think about yn in parc fermé for his win tomorrow but they're not together anymore

username6 HES WINNING TOMORROW THERE'S NOTHING THAT CAN CHANGE THAT

charles_leclerc An existential crisis later

└ carlossainz55 Let him breathe

└ username1 HUUUH WHAT ARE THEY TALKING ABOUT

username7 brb listening to yn's songs about him.. specially lover

liked by midwestprincess, shortandbrina and 107 others

definitelynotyn watching from my couch because apparently i'm the biggest coward in the universe. the pass is literally staring at me from my coffee table. i hate myself.

view all comments

shortnbrina GET IN YOUR CAR RIGHT NOW

└ definitelynotyn I CAN'T

└ shortnbrina YES YOU CAN I'M CALLING YOU AN UBER

midwestprincess GIRL THERE'S STILL 40 LAPS YOU CAN LITERALLY MAKE IT

└ definitelynotyn and then what?? walk in mid-race??

└ midwestprincess YES EXACTLY LIKE A MAIN CHARACTER WOULD

livbedumb not you watching his every move on tv when you could be there

└ definitelynotyn this is less scary ok

└ livbedumb is it though??

maddiebeer remember when you said you'd never be that girl who's too scared to face her feelings?

└ definitelynotyn low blow mads

whostaylorswiftanyway THE PASS IS RIGHT THERE GO GET YOUR MAN

└ definitelynotyn STOP YELLING AT ME

└ whostaylorswiftanyway NO

gracieeee remember when you said his note was the sweetest thing ever? remember crying about how much you missed him? but sure stay on your couch

└ definitelynotyn this is emotional manipulation

definitelynotyn FINE YALL WIN. CALLING A CAR RN

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

liked by shortnbrina, landitooooo and 113 others

definitelynotyn we did some talking. then we did some kissing. then we did some more talking. then we did some more kissing. might have cried a bit (him too). wearing his sweatshirt again. life's funny sometimes.

view all comments

midwestprincess OH GOD FINALLY

gracieeee I'M SOBBING

leclercccccc FINALLY you accepted the follow request

└ definitelynotyn oh my god

└ leclercccccc i helped with the speech you know

└ notoscarpiastri mate.

└ leclercccccc you're welcome btw

landitooooo took you both long enough bloody hell

└ notoscarpiastri says you

└ landitooooo oi what's that supposed to mean

└ shortnbrina no idea really

└ definitelynotyn lando norris and sabrina carpenter... there's stuff you need to explain

arithegood THE TIMELINE HAS BEEN RESTORED

└ definitelynotyn dramatic much

└ arithegood says the girl who showed up mid-race

whostaylorswiftanyway I expect a full debrief tomorrow but I'm happy for you my girl

notoscarpiastri Can we go back to the kissing?

└ definitelynotyn please

liked by username1, username2 and 8,594 others

popbuzz YN AND OSCAR PIASTRI SPOTTED TOGETHER IN MELBOURNE

view all comments

username1 THE SWEATSHIRT THE SWEATSHIRT THE SWEATSHIRT

└ username2 SHE'S WEARING HIS CLOTHES AGAIN

username3 FROM SPINNING OUT TO BREAKFAST DATES IN 24 HOURS

└ username2 character development at its finest

username4 IM GOING TO CRY THEY'RE BACK TOGETHER

username5 Sources say he went to her place last night...

└ username1 and didn't leave 👀

username6 I CAN'T BELIEVE THEY REALLY GOT BACK TOGETHER

username7 this is proof that crying over your ex on main actually works

username8 YN IS A WAG AGAIN OMFG

username9 everybody say thank you australia gp billboards with oscar's face

username10 OSCAR LOVE SONGS ARE SO BACK

username11 WE WON SO HARD

liked by yourinstagram, lando and 876,494 others

oscarpiastri Home race took some unexpected turns both on and off track. P9 wasn't the result we wanted, but somehow still ended up winning this weekend.

view all comments

username1 HE'S SOOOO

username2 LOST THE RACE BUT GOT THE GIRL??

lando mate that's actually smooth

└ oscarpiastri Learned from the best

mclaren We'll take this kind of victory too 🧡

username3 THE THIRD PICTURE IM SOBBING

username4 mans really said forget p9 i got the girl

username5 HE'S SO BOYFRIEND WE'RE SO BACK

nicolepiastri ❤️

username6 OSCAR PIASTRI THE MAN THAT YOU ARE

username7 oscar's guide to get back with your ex with just ten simple steps

sabrinacarpenter FINALLY !!! OUR GIRL CAN STOP MOPING AROUND

└ chappellroan now we need oscar's friend to grow some balls too

└ oscarpiastri @/lando

└ lando well...

└ username1 OMFG LANDO AND SABRINA??

└ username2 WHAT JUST HAPPENED

username8 I CAN'T BELIEVE THIS IS REAL LIFE

yourinstagram 🥺🥺 i love you

[magical-reid]

Beneath the Mask

Pairing: Bucky Barnes (some Winter Soldier) x Reader

Word Count: 900 Words

Summary: After an intense sparring session, you find yourself awkwardly daydreaming about Bucky Barnes, only for him to appear in full Winter Soldier gear, making you flustered with his teasing and undeniable presence. Despite the tension, Bucky reassures you with a soft smile, showing that, even in his intimidating suit, he's still the same man you've admired from afar.

The compound was quiet for once, a rare lull in the chaos that usually characterized life with the Avengers. The team was scattered throughout the facility, each preoccupied with their own business. You were tucked away in the training room, lingering far longer than necessary after your sparring session, nursing your usual crush-fueled daydreams about Bucky Barnes.

It wasn’t just the general aura of mystery, or his startlingly blue eyes, or even the way his rare, crooked smiles felt like tiny rays of sunlight piercing through clouds. No—it was also the fact that he’d taken his scarred past and made himself something better. Stronger. Kinder. Bucky wasn’t just beautiful, he was good, through and through.

Unfortunately, all that admiration made you hopelessly awkward in his presence.

You were seated on the bench by the wall, sipping water as you procrastinated returning to your room. Your mind had just started to drift—something about the way his metal arm glinted in the sun when he worked outside—when the sound of heavy footsteps jolted you back to reality.

You froze as he appeared in the doorway.

But this wasn’t just Bucky. This was the Winter Soldier.

He was in full tactical gear, his black combat suit hugging the sharp lines of his frame. His metal arm gleamed faintly under the fluorescent lights, each groove and plate illuminated in sharp relief. A black mask covered the lower half of his face, and his long hair fell in messy waves around his shoulders.

Your breath hitched.

“Hey,” he said, voice gruff. The mask muffled him slightly, but not enough to disguise the gravelly timbre that always made your knees weak.

“Hi,” you squeaked, praying you didn’t look like a deer in headlights.

He hesitated, leaning against the doorway with a casualness that belied how imposing he looked. “What’re you still doing here? Thought your training block ended an hour ago.”

“I—uh…” You scrambled for an excuse, your mouth dry. “Just, um, cooling down. Staying hydrated.”

Brilliant, you thought. Truly a masterclass in casual conversation.

Bucky tilted his head, his piercing blue eyes narrowing slightly as he studied you. He stepped closer, and the sound of his heavy boots on the mat made your heart race. You tore your gaze away, but it didn’t help; now you were hyper-aware of his presence, the faint smell of leather and gunmetal surrounding you like a storm cloud.

“You okay?” he asked. His voice was softer this time, gentler, and that somehow made it worse.

You nodded frantically. “Yep! Totally fine! Why wouldn’t I be fine?”

He frowned, straightening up. His gaze flickered down, taking in your stiff posture, the way your fingers clenched the water bottle like a lifeline. And then… he smirked.

Oh no.

“Is it the suit?” His tone was teasing now, a hint of amusement lacing his words. “Does it bother you?”

“No!” you blurted. “I mean—no, it’s fine, I just—it’s…” You trailed off, heat flooding your cheeks.

This was mortifying.

To your surprise, Bucky crouched down to your level, his smirk softening into something closer to curiosity. He rested one arm on his knee, tilting his head slightly as he studied you. “What is it?”

You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to meet his eyes. “You just… look different, that’s all.”

It wasn’t a lie, exactly. The Winter Soldier gear transformed him, sharpening his features, accentuating the lethal edge that lurked beneath his quiet demeanor. It wasn’t hard to imagine why people used to quake at the sight of him—but you weren’t afraid. Far from it.

“I look different, huh?” he echoed, his lips twitching behind the mask.

You nodded, unable to find your voice.

He reached up, his gloved fingers tugging the mask down. His face was still soft despite the tactical gear, the familiar angles of his jaw and the faint stubble on his chin grounding you. “Better?”

You nodded again, relieved. But then he leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial murmur. “Or do you like it?”

Your eyes went wide, and you felt your pulse skyrocket. “What?”

The smirk was back, full force now. “You look a little flustered, that’s all. Didn’t know the tactical suit would have this kind of effect.”

You made a sound halfway between a squeak and a groan, burying your face in your hands. “Bucky!”

He chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that made your stomach flip. “Alright, alright. I’ll stop teasing.” He paused. “But seriously, you don’t have to be nervous around me. I’m still me, y’know? Even in this.”

Peeking through your fingers, you found his expression sincere, his blue eyes warm despite the black suit and gleaming metal arm. It struck you then, how much effort he must have put into reclaiming this image of himself—how he’d taken the weapon Hydra had forged and turned it into something good.

“I know,” you murmured, lowering your hands. “You’re always you.”

For a moment, his expression softened further, and something unspoken passed between you. Then he rose to his full height, offering you a hand. “C’mon. Let’s get out of here before Sam comes looking for us and starts making fun of me.”

You took his hand, your cheeks still warm as his metal fingers closed gently around yours. And maybe—just maybe—you gave his suit one last lingering glance before following him out.

[yanderedrabbles]

Yandere Cyberpunk Riot Control Officer - NonCon

There's nothing he hates more than degenerates and rioters. When he gets his hands on, he's going to pound some law and order into you. Warning: general noncon, anal, abuse of authority and unorthodox baton use

Yandere! Riot Cop with his bulky body armour and faceless glass helmet. With his baton and falsely justified sense of violence.

Yandere! Riot Cop who initially runs into you when he's off duty. Who thinks you're totally his type. Who even flirts with you a little and smirks at the pretty blush he causes.

Yandere! Riot Cop who tackles you during the riot and gets one hell of a surprise when he pulls down your mask. 

Yandere! Riot Cop who hates your politics, who hates that you're one of them. A girl like you should know better.

Yandere! Riot Cop who says 'degenerates' and 'anarchists' when you say 'revolutionaries.'

Yandere! Riot Cop who slams you into the concrete and bends your arm so far up your back you scream that he's going to break it.

Yandere! Riot Cop who holds you down and presses his boot into your face. His blood is way up and he gets rougher than he needs to. A little handsy too.

Yandere! Riot Cop who throws you into an unmarked police hovocraft and takes you down to the Statzi headquarters instead of to jail.

Yandere! Riot Cop who claims he wants information but who really wants to pin you down to a steel interrogation table and fuck you from behind until you're begging him to stop.

Yandere! Riot Cop who is just aching to use the excessive force you're always accusing the police of.

In custody, Yandere! Riot Cop takes you deep underground. Until you can't hear the hovocraft or the chanting of the crowds. Until you feel entirely alone.

Yandere! Riot Cop who asks his captain for permission to personally interrogate you.

Yandere! Riot Cop who who takes you to a stark, bare room and chains your wrists to the interrogation table.

You're a nobody now, he tells you. Just another terrorist. He can keep you in here for as long as he wants. Hell, even his boss doesn't care what he does, as long as he keeps you alive.

Yandere! Riot Cop who gives you a choice - give up your allies or stay here and suffer.

Yandere! Riot Cop who grins like a cat with the cream when you put on a brave face and tell him to fuck off. You're a scared little girl caught up in a bigger mess than you realise and he's going to take full advantage of it.

Yandere! Riot Cop who grabs the back of your neck and forces you down onto the table, cold steel biting into wrists and his fingers biting into your skin.

Yandere! Riot Cop who is so much stronger than you. Who has years of training that let's him maneuver you however he pleases.

And you bent over the dull steel of the interrogation table pleases him plenty.

Yandere! Riot Cop who tuts at your attempts to get away. So weak... Did you really think you could challenge the State?

Yandere! Riot Cop who slams his baton against the table right next to your face. It sounds like a gunshot in the quiet of the room.

Yandere! Riot Cop who loves the way you jump and tense up. Is it finally sinking in? It's just you and him and right now he holds all the power.

Yandere! Riot Cop who slowly runs his baton up and down your thighs. Who goes a little higher each time.

He can't mean to go through with it, you think desperately. There's cameras, there's records, there's the law for God's sake.

Yandere! Riot Cop who uses the tip of his baton to flip your skirt up and over, so your ass is bare. Who rubs one gloved hand over your cheeks. The material is cool and rough and nothing you do can shake off his touch.

Yandere! Riot Cop who let's his baton climb even higher, until the thick rubber tip is rubbing against your good girl cotton panties.

Yandere! Riot Cop who gives you one last chance to give up information. Who laughs when you tell him what he's doing is illegal. You're a terrorist, remember? You don't have rights.

Yandere! Riot Cop who pulls your panties aside with two fingers and nudges the baton against your entrance. Who takes in the site of you and savours it. A filthy rebel entirely at his mercy.

Yandere! Riot Cop who slowly pushes his baton into your cunt. The rubber is cold and unyieldingly hard, the shaft thicker than it looked.

Yandere! Riot Cop who pulls back out and sets a slow, drawn out pace. He's as implacable as a machine, never letting the pace drop because he knows your body will respond to it eventually, no matter how much you try and fight it. Who puts his free hand on your lower back and shoves you against the table when you try and squirm away.

Yandere! Riot Cop whose cock is so rock hard he can barely think. Who grips onto his baton so tightly the handle creaks from strain.

Yandere! Riot Cop who loves watching you scrunch up your nose and try not to cry. You brought this on yourself and he's enjoying every second of it.

Yandere! Riot Cop who can see your pussy getting wetter, can see the way your thighs shake. Who isn't surprised at all when you finally come, biting your bottom lip to keep your moans quiet.

Yandere! Riot Cop who gives your ass a hard squeeze, sucking air through his teeth when your skin turns red under his hand. You look so damn good like this - skirt up, ass blushing, pussy dripping. And you're all his.

You cunt is an aching mess and your hair sticks to your cheeks in damp strands, and still you refuse to talk.

Yandere! Riot Cop who feels every sadistic instinct rising up to play.

Yandere! Riot Cop who tears a condom open with his teeth.

Yandere! Riot Cop who rubs his tip against your tight little asshole. There isn't any lube besides the juices from your pussy and whatever came with the condom but he's far past the point of caring - if he had one to begin with.

Yandere! Riot Cop who grabs his cock with one hand and your handcuffs with the other. It's a damn struggle to push into your ass and when the tip is in, he throws his head back and groans.

You're unbelievably, unbearably tight.

Yandere! Riot Cop who finally has enough leverage to go all the way. Who plants his hands on either side of your face and forces himself in with a brutal thrust.

Yandere! Riot Cop who loves the way you scream.

He's fucking huge. It feels like your whole body is being stretched to its limit. When he pulls almost all the way out and slams himself back in, the shock makes you sob. Finally, you give in. Beg him to stop and you'll tell him whatever he wants.

Yandere! Riot Cop who's honestly impressed you lasted this long. Who pulls out almost all the way but keeps the tip inside you.

Names, he demands.

And you give them to him. Student leaders, writers, underground information runners...

It's betrayal, pure and simple. But in this empty room, miles from the open sky, your comrades and your cause feel irrelevant.

They aren't here with you. He is.

Yandere! Riot Cop who gives a satisfied purr, his hands cradling your waist. See? That wasn't so hard, was it?

Yandere! Riot Cop who can feel you finally relaxing.

Yandere! Riot Cop who uses it as an opportunity to snap his hips forward and bury his cock in you again.

"The first bit for was interrogation. The rest is just for me."

Yandere! Riot Cop who grabs your hair the entire time he's railing you, the other hand on your handcuffs to pull you back onto his dick with every thrust.

Yandere! Riot Cop who tells you to scream as much as you can, the people who can help you can't hear you and the people who can hear you won't help you.

Yandere! Riot Cop who fucks like a stallion and growls like a dog.

Yandere! Riot Cop who can feel you orgasm again with the nerves his hitting. Your ass and cunt both shivering around him. He's giving you the worst sort of pain and the worst sort of pleasure at the same time.

Yandere! Riot Cop who pulls your hair until you're practically bent backwards, his voice a rusty growl right in your ear when he comes.

Yandere! Riot Cop who smashes you face into the table when he's done and lifts up his visor just to whisper to you.

Yandere! Riot Cop who tells you that you don't even know who he is. He could be your neighbour or your friend's boyfriend or even someone you flirt with at the gym.

You'll never know who fucked you and you'll be filled with dread about every man you take to bed.

Yandere! Riot Cop who drawls that he might pay you a visit. He knows exactly who you are now, and such a tight little ass shouldn't be wasted on degenerates and rebels.

"Well sweetheart, how does it feel to really get fucked by the State?"

[5sospenguinqueen]

WAG In Training - Franco Colapinto x Reader

Summary: When your boyfriend makes the leap from F2 to F1, you never expected for fans to show so much interest in you. However, they seem to enjoy that your comments are… less than professional

Warnings: Suggestive comments

Requested: Yes by anon

F1 Masterlist

━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━

f1 just posted

liked by jensonbutton, officialmpmotorsport and others

f1 starting in monza, franco colapinto will be racing in williams for the remainder of the 2024 season

12,074 comments

williamsracing welcome to the team

alex_albon bienvenida, franco

francolapinto so excited for this opportunity 

→ user1 he’s so polite

→ user2 just wait

user3 he looks like disney prince

user4 not surprised he got the seat. look at those big beautiful eyes. i bet james was like "whatever you say, handsome"

user5 hand veins! 

its_yn so proud of you baby! we’ll have to celebrate later

→ francolapinto i can think of a few ways 

→ its_yn as long as it ends with those fireproofs on the floor 

→ user6 who is this?

→ user7 his girlfriend, and has been since before he was in f2 so don’t start 

→ user8 omg her instagram is so cute. all the pics of her and franco 

its_yn just posted

liked by williamsracing, lilymhe and others

its_yn i heard f1 drivers get the best head. @/francolapinto want to test that theory?

6,389 comments

francolapinto but i already know i get the best. i am always happy to prove it though

→ williamsracing add this to the list of things you can no longer say online

→ its_yn that’s becoming a very long list

user9 she’s an icon, she’s a legend, she is the moment

user10 i never knew how much i needed y/n in my life until right now 

user11 i hope williams never pr train her because she is hilarious 

lilymhe i can’t wait to meet you 

→ its_yn me too! you’ve definitely been my favourite thing about williams so far

→ alex_albon rude

alexandrasaintmleux i like the shade of lipstick

→ its_yn i’ll let you borrow it

user12 y/n and franco are going to take off ten years from james vowels’ lifespan

user13 i love how cute her aesthetic is but then you read her captions

yourfriend uh oh, they’ve found you, y/n. you better delete your old tweets

→ user14 too late. we already have screenshots 

user15 this is unhinged and i love it. is she like this all the time?

→ dennis_hauger yes. and i’m glad she’s gone

→ its_yn oi

━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━

williamsracing just posted

liked by alex_albon, francolapinto and others

williamsracing first post-quali interview in f1 completed

10,998 comments

francolapinto something i have been looking forward to 

→ user1 yeah, hun, we know

→ user2 the interviewer definitely knows

user3 okay but the pouty lip in the last slide? talk about kissable

→ user4 i’d like to nibble on them liked by its_yn

→ user5 i love that instead of disliking all these comments, y/n just joins in

user6 his face in the second slide when he realised y/n was watching him flirt with older women

user7 y/n is stronger than me because if my man was rizzing up all the interviewers, i would throw myself in front of a moving f1 car 

→ francolapinto she’s fine. she gets her own back by flirting with jenson whenever she sees him

→ its_yn it’s not my fault he’s so scrummy

→ jensonbutton thank you, y/n

user8 okay but i love how secure they are in their relationship. she only jokingly told him off and they kissed straight after 

━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━

fc43 just posted

liked by user9, its_yn and others

fc43 i wonder what else is thick

4,044 comments

its_yn i can already feel the bruises on my cervix 

→ user9 !!! 

→ user10 out of pocket

user11 i love that she’s even interacting with a fan page

→ user12 aha she’s everywhere 

user13 do you think he’s into choking? liked by its_yn

→ user13 omg she confirmed

→ user14 yes but in which way? he likes to be choked? she likes to be choked? both?? liked by its_yn

user15 his neck looks so biteable  liked by its_yn

user16 (s)creaming

franco43stan just posted

liked by user1, its_yn and others

franco43stan i’d like to report these photos. they made my 85yr old grandmother have palpitations

11,437 comments

its_yn gnawing at the bars of my enclosure

its_yn actually salivating

its_yn yes, i’ve licked those abs. yes, i’ve done so when they were sweaty 

→ williamsracing we knew we’d find you here

→ user1 oop she’s been caught. they’re going to take her away from us

user2 y/n stronger than me letting her man post videos with a slutty 2 second shot of his stomach

→ user3 girl likes watching us thirst over him

→ user4 makes her feel validated about her horniness

→ its_yn at the end of the day, ladies, i’m the one who gets to touch 

user5 imagine that chain swinging against your back

→ its_yn been there, done that

━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━

francolapinto just posted

liked by williamsracing, landonorris and others

francolapinto my girl

11,437 comments

alex_albon okay, this was sorta sweet if i ignore what these photos undoubtedly lead to 

→ lilymhe you never show photos like this of me

→ alex_albon those are only for my eyes! plus, i have been trained properly 

user6 franco saw that everyone loved y/n for being unhinged and decided to let everyone know that he is also down bad

its_yn why would you post these when you’re all the way in america and can’t do anything about the ache you’ve created! 

→ francolapinto calling you. now. 

→ user7 doesn’t he have quali in 40 mins?

→ user8 phone sex is more important 

williamsracing why do you give us hope that this will be a normal post… and then we scroll? and then we read the comments

user9 i only look at franco’s posts to see y/n’s comments

user10 even if franco doesn’t have a seat for next year, y/n will forever be famous as my #1 wag

user11 y/n and franco mean so much to me. we can’t lose them next year 

user12 franco is cute and all but y/n 🥵

user13 can franco fight?

→ francolapinto he will try 

its_yn if i’d have known we’d get this much attention, i’d have convinced franco to stay in f2

→ francolapinto do not lie. you were so happy for me that you cried

→ its_yn no, that was from how good the celebration sex was

→ francolapinto some of our best work tbf  

williamsracing just posted

liked by jensonbutton, f1 and others

williamsracing couple’s day out? no! couple’s pr training! 

14,880 comments

f1 heartbroken 

jensonbutton finally 

user1 poor james looks like he’s heard things he never wanted to

user2 aha james has been through the trenches 

redbullracing don’t try to silence them

alpinef1team no! let them let their freak flags fly 

user3 james fighting for his life with these two

→ user4 and all the teams opposing him

user5 did they put franco in time out?

→ francolapinto yes :(

user6 just fell to my knees in walmart 

user7 noooo they got to my emotional support couple

user8 y/n looks like she’s had an amazing day

→ its_yn i did! i learnt so much

→ user9 are you going to listen to any of it

→ its_yn no :)

→ francolapinto we’re here for a fun time, not a long time 

→ user10 ^^ franco trying to convince y/n to have sex in his driver’s room liked by its_yn and francolapinto

━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━

requests open

coming up; liam lawson x ferrari admin including cars references

max verstappen part 2 to taste

charles leclerc x sainz reader

tag list

@peachiicherries @rosecentury @c-losur3 @heavy-vettel @evie-119 @raizelchrysanderoctavius @lilorose25 @sillyfreakfanparty @iloveyou3000morgan

[gojorgeous]

“heatwaves”

pairing: alpha!gojo x omega!fem!reader summary: when a work trip takes you to japan, the last thing you expect is a heatwave... and some guy with blue eyes? content: MDNI (18+ only), nsfw, a/b/o dynamics, no established relationship, dubcon (i feel like it’s always kinda dubcon with a/b/o), p->v, unprotected sex, creampie, breeding, biting, blood, marking, spit, praise, swearing, pet names (baby/sweetheart/princess), brief mention/implication of pregnancy, knotting, reader gets picked up, reader is american, reader is unaware of their omega status, reader experiences their first heat, reader and satoru “bond” without having a fully conscious conversation, reader and satoru are early twenties. a/n: it's here! somebody spay me. by popular demand i have written alpha!gojo for you all… just a classic reader goes into an accidental heat at work and (x) character happens to be the nearest alpha LMAO. this is entirely uncreative, but i love it for that!!! straight smut with a little plot if you squint hard enough! i hope it lives up to your expectations. find my alpha!geto fic here and find the list of my 1k event fics here. enjoy and remember, ALL AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED! credits: dividers by @cafekitsune. wc: 5k

Nobody ever told you that Japan was so damn hot. 

Hot was not what came to mind when you’d heard you’d be taking a trip to Tokyo. Temples? Sure. Mt. Fuji? Great. Hot? No fucking way. 

But, here you were, boiling away under the sun on what you’d thought would be a fun little work trip. Instead, you were just suffering with every step, trying to listen to what Principal Yaga was saying and failing miserably. 

“These are the sparring courts. No students right now, but they’ll start training within the hour.” 

You rub at the back of your neck, cringing when your palm comes away coated with a thin layer of sweat. Gross. 

You lift your eyes to the sky, wondering how much longer this was going to take. Your little trip to Japan was to organize an exchange program with Jujutsu Tech. Your students had been begging to take a trip to Tokyo, to where their cursed energy would be closer to the source and, consequently, stronger. You had to admit, it was a good idea. A few months spent training here in Japan would do them good. From the moment you’d set foot on Japanese soil, your power had thrummed faster in your veins than ever before. 

Principal Yaga was giving you a tour of the grounds and had sealed your horrible fate when he’d decided to start outside. You barely heard a word the man said. New York was never this hot…

“Are you alright?” You blink, fanning your face as best you can. It provides no relief. God, it felt like the heat was penetrating your fucking bones… 

When your eyes slide to Principal Yaga, you’re surprised to see that he looks genuinely concerned. “Y-yeah.” You blink again, shocked by your own stutter. Maybe you were coming down with something? “I’m fine, just not used to this kind of heat, I guess.” You fan your face again and clench your jaw when it still does nothing. 

Yaga’s brows furrow and you see him glance around, like he’ll find said heat standing next to him. How was he wearing so many layers? 

“How about we head inside and take a break, then? We can continue the tour… later.” You nearly fall to the ground and kiss his feet. Air conditioning is truly God's gift to man… 

You smile and it’s all genuine. “That would be amazing. Thank you.” 

Yaga nods, but you think his eyes linger on you for just a beat too long before he turns. He still looks confused… or maybe flustered? That only leaves you confused. 

You follow after him, each step feeling like you’re sinking deep into cement. You tug at the collar of your shirt, trying to get some ventilation. When you finally reach the building you nearly sigh with relief. Air conditioning… that’ll be good. Just what you need. A few minutes inside and you’ll be good to go. You’ll just have to remember not to wear so many damn layers again when you continue the tour. 

You’re smiling as you step inside, so ready for relief that you’re practically shaking– but relief never comes. Your brows furrow. You brush your arm through the air. It… doesn’t help. It’s strange– you can feel the coolness of the air conditioning, feel it gliding up and across your skin, but the heat doesn’t subside, doesn’t so much as lessen. 

“I trust you know how to find anything you might–” Yaga clears his throat. “Need?” 

 Your brows furrow. He’d shown you all the school’s resources last night and your room was already stocked with food, toiletries, and every other thing you could possibly need. Of course you knew where everything was… 

“Yes… Thank you.” 

Yaga shifts so uncomfortably you think that maybe he’s about to pee his pants. “Right, well, you have my contact information. Let me know if I can be of assistance in connecting you to any… resources.”

You’re more confused now than you were at the start of this conversation. “Right…” 

“Take care.” 

Yaga shoots you one last– worried?- glance and stalks down the hall. You’re left wondering what the hell is happening in his mind and why he seemed so desperate to offer you resources? 

You blink, clearing your mind as best you can, but some sort of fog seems to be settling over your consciousness. Definitely coming down with something, you think. 

You make your way through the halls, steps still feeling suspiciously heavy and heat still radiating off your body. A cold shower. That’ll help. Or so you thought. The further you walk, the more each hallway starts to look like the next. Was it left or right next? Was this hallway always a dead end? Since when was there a bathroom there?

You’re leaning against the wall now, panting. Something is pooling in your gut, something warm and far too intense. Your inner thighs are wet, too. You want to convince yourself it’s sweat, but… you’re horny. More horny than you’ve ever been in your whole damn life. You think you might die if you don’t get some dick in the next ten minutes. What the fuck?

You slide yourself into the next room you see: an empty classroom. Thank fucking god. You grab the back of a chair, hands shaking with how hard you’re gripping the wood. You take a deep breath. You need to get a hold of yourself, need to figure out what the fuck is happening to you.  

You swallow and try your best to think. It’s not without difficulty. Your head feels like somebody’s filled it with glue. It takes a minute for a coherent thought to come through, but when it does, you think it’s a good one. Doctor. 

Yes– you don’t feel well, so obviously a doctor is the correct choice, right? You scramble for your phone in your back pocket but freeze when the brush of your own hand against your ass sends a jolt up your spine. What the fuck is wrong with you? 

Carefully, you extract your phone from your pocket, but it’s too difficult to even remember your fucking passcode. You press your thighs together, trying to relieve some of the overwhelming ache that’s forming between your legs. Something is definitely wrong.

You fumble with your phone, but your hands are shaking so hard it just tumbles to the floor. 

“Fuck,” you breathe. “Fuck, fuck, fuck?” 

“Yo, who’s baking cookies in here without me?” 

Your head snaps up and, with some difficulty, your eyes settle on a… man. You suck in a breath. He’s… dazzling. He’s wearing all black, but it’s not a student uniform. One of the teachers that you’ve yet to meet, then. White hair and pale skin contrasts against his clothes, but his eyes are covered by a pair of sunglasses set low on his nose. Even in your delirious state you still have the wherewithal to wonder who the fuck wears sunglasses inside. 

You get a quick look at him before a wave of intense- fuck, desire?- washes over you. You tremble again and shock yourself when a whimper tumbles from your lips. 

“Oh, shit,” you hear him say. You glance at him from the corner of your eye and watch him inhale again– deeply. His lips part. “Oh, shit.”

You clench your jaw and tighten your grip on your chair. Your legs are shaking now– you can barely stand. You squeak pitifully. 

The second the sound leaves your throat you hear footsteps– rapid, hurried, concerned, ones. Warm hands clasp your waist and you cry out at the touch, electricity sparking on your skin. 

“Shhh, it’s okay.” He turns you gently to face him, hands steadying your swaying body. “Who the fuck left you alone in here?” His hand is rubbing soothing circles on your lower back now and you think you’ve never felt something so good in your life. It’s so good that you almost miss what he said. Almost. 

“W-What?” You see his brows furrow as you peek up at him. At this angle you can see under his sunglasses. His eyes are blue. Really fucking blue. You think he might be the most attractive man you’ve ever seen, even with the expression of… anger?- that he’s currently wearing. 

“Whoever he is, I'll kill him.” 

That makes you blink. An extra sliver of clarity opens in your brain. “What are you talking about?”

He tugs you a little closer, wrapping an arm fully around your waist and pressing you up against him. You try to ignore the fact that you love it, that you want nothing more than to wrap yourself around him and climb him like a fucking tree. 

“What idiot leaves an omega going into heat?” He’s glaring at the doorway like he’s torn between staying here with you and running after said idiot to pommel him into the ground. 

“‘M not an omega.” The words are out before you’ve even stopped to consider them. It’s true. You’re not an omega. You’re a beta. You’ve always been a beta. You’ve got the little “B” on your ID card to prove it. You were tested at birth, just like everyone else, and even if you really were an omega you would have presented years ago.

He only glances down at you and snorts. “Funny, sweetheart.” His hand is still rubbing those little circles into your back and it’s enough to make that fogginess in your mind grow a little thicker. 

But your fear, your uncertainty outways your instinct. You pound a weak fist against his chest, not to push him away, but to get his attention. He’s still glaring at the doorway like he wants to murder it. 

“‘M serious,” you gasp. “I’m a beta… I don’... know whas’ happenin’… to me.” Each word is a tremendous effort to form. Your tongue seems to have lost its ability to do anything but hang limply. 

That gets his attention. He lifts a hand, gently brushing your hair back from your eyes and then cupping your jaw. “Is this your first heat?” 

You find yourself leaning into his touch despite the fact that you’ve only known him for thirty seconds. Your eyelids flutter. “N-Not a heat… jus’ feel… sick.”

His brows furrow again, deeper this time, and he shakes his head. “How old are you?”

You know why he asks. Most omegas present around eighteen or nineteen. “Older than… nineteen…” You try to laugh, but it only comes out as a whimper.

That answer only serves to make him push closer. You feel his hand trailing down your neck, skimming gently over the skin until he reaches a spot you hadn't even realized was so… sore. You keen at the touch. Fuck, no. There was no way. You had swollen fucking scent glands. 

You try to push away, but he pulls you in, burying his face in your neck. You shudder when he groans. “You smell like a damn bakery exploded,” he chuckles, and the sound is muffled by your skin. When he pulls away he makes it look like the action is physically painful. He cups your face again. “Hate to break it to you, sweetheart, but you’re an omega. If this is your first heat then…” he swallows and your eyes track the bob of his throat. “You’re just a late bloomer, baby.”

You shake your head desperately. It’s just the stupid heatwave. It’s just… hot outside… right? 

You try to think about how this could be possible. It could be that the test you took as a baby was wrong… it happened sometimes. It was rare, but it happened. But if you were an omega, what would have triggered your presentation now? What had changed? 

Your eyes widen. Japan. You’d set foot in fucking Japan. Ever since you’d gotten here, you’d felt power pulsing in your veins. Maybe it hadn’t been just power… 

“N-no–” 

A gentle thumb smooths over your cheek and you meet his eyes again. You shiver when you see a whole lot more black than blue. “You have no alpha?” 

You whimper, leaning into him. Touch me, touch me, touch me, a part of you begs. You shake your head again and a tear slides down your cheek. “No,” you whisper. 

Strong arms slide beneath your knees and you squeak when you’re suddenly suspended in the air. When you glance up he’s grinning triumphantly. “You have one now,” is all he says before he’s carrying you out of the classroom and twisting through the halls. 

Warmth rushes over you at the sensation of being held, and something begs you to give into it, to give into the heat still washing over you, to the throbbing between your legs. You fight it and fight it hard. 

“Where’re we going?” you ask, but your voice is sounding more and more like a whisper. 

His eyes stay focused ahead, even as he presses a comforting kiss to the crown of your head. “Your room, sweetheart.” 

Your brows scrunch. “How d’ you know where–” 

“‘M following your scent, baby.” 

He can do that? You bury your face in his neck, embarrassed, only to be hit by a different scent so delicious your mouth starts watering. You groan. Loudly. There’s a scent pouring from his neck that’s filling your head with memories of spices you can’t name, but suddenly know you love. 

You think you hear him chuckle and then feel a gentle hand on the back of your neck, encouraging you. You snuggle deeper into him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and burying your fingers in his hair. Taste him, taste him, taste him your mind chants. It’s too good an offer to deny. You lick a stripe across his skin. 

Your groans are instant. He’s squeezing you closer, leaning into your touch, and you’re pulling him closer. Your fingers curl into his jacket, tugging and tugging. You lick again and now he’s the one groaning. 

“Damn, that feels good,” He sounds as surprised by that fact as you feel. The swaying of his steps comes to a sudden halt. You whine, missing the rocking of his body. “Think we’re here, princess. This it?” His hand is smoothing over your hair, slowly coaxing you away from the curve of his neck. You blink, not wanting to leave the paradise of his scent, but also feeling some overwhelming urge to please him.

Your eyes settle on a door and you recognize a little chip in the wood. You nod. “Mhm.” 

You gasp when his hand grips your hip, wriggling through your pocket until he pulls out a little brass key. 

“Perfect,” he says, and his voice sounds like he’s all too pleased with himself. He shimmies your key in the knob until the lock clicks and then you’re inside. The door slams shut loud enough to make you jump and squeak. 

“Oops, sorry, baby. Guess I’m a little excited, heh.” His hand squeezes your hip soothingly and you mewl at the wave of heat that pulses through you. Your clit throbs almost painfully and you feel something gush onto your thighs. You whimper. 

He inhales. “Oh, shit,” he breathes, and then you’re moving again. He navigates your room like he knows it. He probably does. From what you can tell, most of the rooms at Jujutsu Tech follow a standard layout. He weaves down a hall to the left and then into your bedroom on the right. 

He lays you on the bed gently, tenderly, like he’s afraid you might break if he drops you so much as an inch. “There we go,” he breathes. You can’t deny that it feels good, that it feels right, to be lying on the softness of your mattress, but it’s not enough. 

You claw at him, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck and pulling him close. You want something from him, need something, but you can’t name what. You just know that the heat boiling beneath your skin can only be sated by him, that the throbbing between your legs can only be calmed by him. “P-Please,” you whimper. Tears well in your eyes. You need him so bad it physically hurts. 

The smile he gives you is soft and genuine and it takes your breath away. He dips his head and you think you see him slide those sunglasses down his nose and toss them to the side. You don’t pay too close attention, though, because he’s kissing your neck again and your body is screaming with sensation. 

“Aw, I know, baby. Don’ worry. ‘M gonna take care of you now. Jus’ relax.” 

His words spark something in you– your last bit of consciousness. A brief moment of clarity shines through the fog of your mind and you remember what the hell is happening, what the hell you’re doing. You squeeze your eyes shut and shake your head desperately. No, no, no, this is not happening to you. There’s no way.

“Hey, now. None a’ that.” Fingers clasp your chin, holding you still. When you peek your eyes open, you see that he has in fact removed his sunglasses and that his eyes are more black pupil than dazzling blue. His jaw is clenched and his breathing is heavy. “Don’t try t’ fight it. Jus’ try to enjoy it…” His head dips and suddenly he’s nipping at your scent gland again. 

You thrash and scream, but not in fear or pain. You’ve never felt something so good in your life. Every graze of his teeth feels like heaven. Your skin zings with electricity, sending pulses of pure need straight between your thighs. 

You grab at him, tangling your fingers in his hair and tugging him closer. Your chest is heaving when you speak. “Please, p-please-” 

“Shhh…” You think you hear your shirt tearing, but you’re too focused on pulling him closer to care. His tongue licks a stripe up your throat and your eyes roll back. 

You’re sure your shirt is off now. You can feel the cool air, but it does nothing to ease the heat raging inside you, pulsing and pumping through your veins.You feel him tugging at your pants, too, and you try to raise your hips. He only shushes you again. “Jus’ relax. Let me do the work, baby.” 

Your pants are gone in seconds, even without your assistance. So is your bra and then your panties. He tries pulling away to undress himself, but you mewl and his eyes blow even blacker before he’s back over you again. He settles for popping the buttons straight off his shirt and shimmying out of his pants. 

The sight of his bare skin makes you whimper and then you’re clawing at him again, dragging your fingers across his shoulders, over his chest, down his abs. It’s a greedy touch and one that he returns. His palms move along your body, kneading and squeezing at any flesh he can grab. It feels so good that you think you might pass out– but it’s still not enough. Something is still missing. You feel… empty. 

His fingers trace across your stomach and it’s too late to realize what’s happening before he’s circling your clit. You jerk and jolt at the touch, but he presses his chest to yours, pinning you. The throbbing only worsens when his fingers settle into a rhythm. 

Tears leak down your cheeks. It’s too overwhelming. You’re burning– burning from the inside out. The pulsing between your thighs is all-consuming with its intensity, with its-

“Need! N-Need–” you’re crying out, but you don’t even know what to ask for– don’t even know what you need. 

“God, Fuck, I know, princess,” he groans. He licks a long stripe up your neck. “But ‘s your first heat. Gotta–” he has to pause to swallow. He’s panting, now, just as lost as you are, and you get the sense that he’s restraining himself. “Gotta get you ready… go slow.” 

You shake your head. Now, now, now is all you can think. You need him now. “No… please…” You bury your head in his neck and find that spot that’s pouring his spicy scent into the air. Your mouth waters and you lick him, letting your teeth graze his skin.

“Fuck!” He shivers atop you and you feel the pure strength restrained within his muscles. “Fuck- okay. Okay. Relax f’ me, princess.” 

You try, you really do, but your body refuses to do anything but try to pull him closer. You feel his fingers digging into the flesh of your thighs, pressing them up, up, up until they’re pressed tightly to your chest and your feet are dangling on his shoulders. The position makes you whine, feeling more exposed than you ever have before. 

“You on birth control, baby?” 

Your brows furrow. It’s becoming harder and harder to focus on what he’s saying rather than simply the sound of his voice. Were you? You try to think, try to remember through the pit of glue that is your brain. No…

You shake your head. “N-No…” 

There’s a slight pause, a beat of contemplation, and then he’s laughing. “Guess I’m bouta be a daddy then, heh.” He chuckles again and the sound rings through you with a wave of pure bliss. His lips brush your neck again, settling on your pulse and making you whine. “Don’t really mind as long as I get you.” Your head rolls back submissively, exposing your throat. Yes, yes, yes, your mind screams. There’s nothing you want more than that, you think.“Okay, here we go, baby.” 

There’s hardly any more warning. One second you feel him shifting between your thighs and the next he’s pressing inside of you, feeding his cock in inch by inch. The stretch is… delicious. It burns, fuels that fire inside you, but it makes the heat feel more… pleasurable. Your back arches and your head rolls back submissively. 

“Oh, fuck, princess.” His voice has gotten higher, more like a whine than anything else. When you gaze up at him you can see the flush in his cheeks, even through the fog in your mind. More, more, more your mind screams. Or maybe you say it aloud, because more is exactly what he gives you. The second you feel him tucked up against your cervix the second he begins to take you. He sets a pace that is somehow both brutal and gentle, with strokes that rattle your skull and also give you exactly what you need. His hands grip your hips, holding you still to take exactly what he wants to give. His head dips until he has his lips wrapped around your nipple, and his tongue is swirling so deliciously that you can’t help but drag your nails down his back. 

Your body rocks with every thrust, teeth rattling and eyes rolling. The heat inside you grows… tighter, like it’s all pooling to your core, waiting for something you still can’t quite name. 

“N-need…” You don’t know what you need, still. Only that you want to beg for it so badly it hurts. 

His tongue slides away from your nipple, tracing a line up between the valley of your breasts, over your collarbone, before he finally settles on your pulse once again. The nick of his teeth makes something click in your mind. This is what you need. Bite me, bite me, bite. Claim me, claim me, claim me. 

“Yes,” you breathe. Your fingers dig into his scalp, pulling him closer, coaxing his teeth to sink in, to stake their claim. “Oh God, yes. Please.” You sound delirious, you think, but then so does he when he answers. 

“Not yet, princess. Not yet.” His tongue darts out to lick across your neck again and you can only sob. Why not yet? Now, now, now… 

Tightness coils in your muscles, the throb at your core reaching a breaking point. You feel something coming, something like an orgasm but yet also not. You know that when whatever is pooling inside you releases, you will shatter, and you’re not sure you’ll ever be put back together. 

Your nails claw across his back hard enough to draw blood and the action forces out some sort of low grumble from his chest that makes you whimper and melt into the mattress. The tip of his nose draws a line up your throat. “Keep doin’ that, baby. Mark me up.” 

You don’t dare deny him. You scratch at his skin, desperately trying to pull him closer. His thrusts grow faster and your thighs begin to tremble and shake on his shoulders, overwhelmed with the intensity of all you’re feeling. You pull at him, grab at him, thread your fingers through his hair. 

Your body jolts with each thrust and you’re sure you’re going to burst any moment. But you can’t. Not yet. You still need something, something he hasn’t given you yet. He groans and the sound is so delicious that you feel it sliding over your skin and settling in your bones. 

“M’ gonna knot you now, princess,” he breathes. “Gonna make you feel so good. Gonna take care ‘ve you.”

You whimper at his words. You hope they’re true. You don’t think you can take much more of the incessant gnawing of need in your gut. 

“Please…” your voice is hardly more than a whisper. His breath is hot as it shakes against your neck. He’s licking and nipping at you ravenously, like he needs you just as badly, like he wants to claim you as badly as you want to be claimed. 

His thrusts quicken even further and your jaw falls open, neck arching. You don’t think you can hold on much longer. Apparently, neither can he. 

You feel it the moment he starts to swell inside you. It’s perfect, you think. It can’t get better than this– but then it does. 

His teeth graze your throat again, this time a little harsher and with a little more intent. “Mine,” he whispers. The second he bites you everything goes blurry. 

You’re experiencing… heaven. There is a rush of that electricity that buzzes under your skin. It bursts forth and you feel it reaching out, forming a link between the two of you that you know is now impenetrable. It pulses and burns and you can feel him, feel his pleasure, his desire, his need for you and only you– his need to make you his. You think your souls must be blending, merging, with how deep the connection runs. You think you know him, know everything you could possibly ever need to. You know he’s the one. You know he’s yours.

It’s perfect, the way it fulfills every desire you’ve ever had, the way he notches inside your cunt like that’s where he was made to be, the way his teeth clamp around your throat and bond you together forever.

You scream for him, you think, but you can’t tell through the complete and total haze of pleasure. Your walls spasm around him, milking him for every last drop, and you feel the heat of his cum coating your cervix. The heat at your center finally releases, bursting and flooding through you in a way that feels like pure bliss has been injected into your veins. Your thighs quake and tremble with the pure intensity of it all and white spots dot your vision. 

His body is tense above you, shivering with the magnitude of what’s just happened. He’s groaning into your neck, your flesh still clamped between his teeth like he never wants to let go. You’re not sure you ever want him to. 

Your breaths shake in and out, lungs heaving as you finally come down. His knot is still settled deep inside you and with the few strings of consciousness that slowly filter back into your mind you know that he’ll remain there for a while.

His teeth release from your neck with a squelch that you think you would be sickening in any other context, but only makes you whimper at the loss of contact. He only hums and finds your hand, twining your fingers together as he laps at the fresh bite on your throat. It feels… amazing. Not in the way it felt before, like he was licking pure lust straight onto your skin, but more like he’s giving you a comfort you have never known in your life. You feel safe in his arms, like nothing could ever hurt you here. 

His lips press a final kiss to your throat before you feel him shifting. He gently rolls you both onto your sides, getting comfortable and pulling you to his chest while you both wait for the next wave of lust to hit you. It will, you know. Sooner rather than later, too. Your mind has cleared enough to realize what’s happening, what’s to come. You won’t be leaving this room, this bed, for quite some time. 

A gentle hand brushes a sweaty lock of hair from your eyes before it settles on the nape of your neck, massaging the sore muscles there. You sigh and raise your gaze to find him already looking at you, an easy smile on his lips. He has dimples, you realize, and he’s… breathtaking. And now… he’s all yours.

There’s a beat of silence between you, a moment of reconciliation with what’s just happened between you, of what it means. You blink up at him, your lips parting to say something, anything, but instead your brows furrow in thought.

His smile drops instantly. He leans into you, thumb caressing your cheek. “What is it, sweetheart?” 

Your mouth runs dry. You peek up at him from beneath your lashes. “What’s your name?”

taglist (dm me or send an ask to be added!): @lacheri, @la-undercover-latina, @fushironi, @enchantedsylveon, @keiva1000

link: alpha!geto

link: 1k followers event!

please consider leaving a comment, sending an ask, or reblogging! interacting with authors is the best way to support them! thanks for reading ♡

[rose-pearls]

The perils of love

Summary: being in love with Luke seemed to be a bad idea as you realise that he doesn't seem to be interested. But as you get ready to move on from love entirely your father decides to appear and two people fall for you.

Main Taglist : @avada-kedavra-bitch-187, @nyx2021, @thestarspangledcaptain, @kmc1989 (open)

Part 2

Luke Castellan, everyone knew him at camp either for his sword skills or just his kind smiles for every camper that walked into the Hermes cabin. You had fallen for him the moment you met him, sweet brown eyes and a kind smile had you into a puddle. 

You had been twelve, wandering around the Hermes cabin, waiting desperately for your parent to claim you but the days went by, and you still were there. The little girls crush however didn’t went by but grew stronger every day you saw the boy who slowly turned into a man that had all the girls going crazy over him.  

He had been kind to you but there was always a look that you couldn’t decipher, until today that was.

“So, where is your number one fan Luke?”, you hear Chris say in a teasing tone and after a moment you hear Chris say your name, as if to make it clear it was you. 

“I don’t know and frankly I don’t have the time to care right now,” Luke says after letting out a sigh, but you felt your chest tighten at the words. Chris snorts at the words and you don’t expect what he says next.

“You know that there is a betting pool as to when the both of you are going to date,” you don’t know how Luke reacts, as you are practically one with the wall, but you hear him snort.

“Please, she is a sweet girl, but I would never date her. I don’t know how to explain it but sometimes she can just be a little-”, he seems to be trying to find his words and as you wait for it you feel tears brimming in your eyes at his previous statement.

“Clingy? I mean she is practically everywhere you are.”, the words are like a bullet to your heart, particularly when you hear Luke agree.

“I know right, I mean I know that she is still part of the Hermes cabin as she hasn’t been claimed yet but still,” you try to blink the tears away, not willing to cry as you hear the words being said by the man you had always looked up to. 

“Maybe she will never be claimed, I mean after three years,” Chris says, and you can hear the grimace in his voice, he says it with such carelessness as if you haven’t been thinking about the same thing every night for the past three years, wondering what was wrong with you.

“We’ll see what happens I guess, but maybe it would be good for her to be in another cabin,” Luke says, he looks like he doesn’t want to talk about it anymore, but Chris adds one last phrase to their conversation.

“Or better for you,” there is a quiet hum of agreement and that is the only thing you need before leaving the cabin quietly, the book that you had come for quickly forgotten.

You knew it was pitiful, the fact that they all seemed to know that you liked the Hermes boy and that they all pitied you for it. Because in the end the boy would never go for you, he had a hundred girls waiting for him and yet here you were hoping for the impossible.

Tears are brimming in your eyes, but you quickly brush them away, not wanting to cry after what had happened, you needed to be strong now. It was time for you to get over that stupid crush and get on with your life, maybe if you trained more your godly parent would finally recognize you and claim you.

“What are you doing here all alone?”, you suddenly hear someone say behind you and you turn around to find Annabeth looking at you with worried eyes.

“Thinking, the lake always seems to sooth me,” you say, the words coming a bit weaker than you intended them too. The girl simply nods at your words before sitting down next to you.

“What about you?”, you quietly ask her, and she lets out a sigh.

“Needed to get out a little bit, I can only strategise so much before going crazy,” she says with a small smile, and you can’t help but smile at her words.

“I’m sure your strategy will be incredible, as always,” you tell her and she simply nods, looking too far into her thoughts.

“Chiron is thinking of splitting up the Hermes cabin,” she suddenly says, and you turn to look at her in surprise.

“Really? How so?”, you can’t help but ask, wondering if this is maybe your chance to get a bit away from a certain Hermes boy.

“He thinks that the unclaimed children and children of minor gods should get the chance to chose in which team they want to be,” she looks conflicted, and you can understand why, this could mean less people for the blue team, her team.

“It seems like a kind gesture,” you can’t help but say and Annabeth nods in agreement.

“It is, although he could’ve said it sooner, now we all need to find a different strategy and we are going crazy with figuring out who will be on our team,” she seems overwhelmed, and you can’t help but put your hand on her shoulder trying to calm her down.

“Hey, calm down it will all be alright,” you tell her, and she takes a deep breath before slowly nodding in agreement.

“I know, I just don’t want to lose,” she says with a pout, and you can finally see the twelve-year-old she really is, that childlike excitement at the thought of capture the flag.

The both of you are deep in thought before her voice breaks the silence, her voice small as she talks.

“Which team are you choosing?”, it was probably a valid question to ask, you were unclaimed so you could technically choose which team to be on, but you just couldn’t get the previous conversation you had heard out of your head.

“The fact that you aren’t saying anything makes me think that you are going to go on the red team,” it seems like she is trying to tease you but there is some sort of hurt woven into her words.

“Don’t take it personally,” you can’t help but say, as much as you would’ve liked staying on the blue team you just couldn’t bear to be that close to Luke after what you had heard. You didn’t know what you would be doing tonight as you were sleeping in the same cabin as always, but he wouldn’t pay attention to you not unless you went to him.

“Did something happened with Luke?”, the carefully asked question makes you look at Annabeth with wide eyes, she had an understanding look in her eyes and you couldn’t help but curse the fact that she was Athena’s daughter.

“Nothing happened, I just realised that maybe I should get to know other people and that maybe it would get me out of my comfort zone,” there are a lot of things unsaid, Annabeth knows it too. Luckily, she doesn’t know of the conversation you had heard, or the fact that the words had cut you deeper than you could’ve ever thought they would. 

“You should probably tell Chiron and the red team, I heard that they were planning a strategy evening to talk about what they were going to do tomorrow,” you try to find anger in Annabeth’s eyes but there is only understanding and a lingering sadness that seems to disappear as you get up.

“Good idea, I will be doing that right now. Good luck on the strategy and don’t drive yourself crazy Annabeth you will do great,” you tell her, and a sweet smile appears on her lips as she nods slowly making you smile at her.

“Don’t be a stranger!”, she yells as you are about to leave, and you turn around to smile at her.

“I won’t!”, she looks reassured at the words before turning back to the water, leaving you to go towards Chiron office. 

--

“A little birdie told me you were on the red team,” you hear someone say and turn around to find Clarisse smirking at you.

“Would that little birdie be Chiron?”, you ask, feeling breathless after trying to stab the dummy about a hundredth time with your sword.

“I don’t reveal my sources princess,” she says with a smirk while you feel your cheeks heat up, you tell yourself it’s because of the work out you just did.

“We have a meeting tonight, after dinner at the Ares cabin,” she says while looking around the rink before picking up a sword.

“I’ll be there,” you tell her, expecting the girl to leave you alone but she just comes closer to you.

“After that there is a movie night and a sleepover, one of the Aphrodite kids managed to convince Chiron to allow it,” the words leave you confused for a moment, how would you even have a movie night with all these people.

“Only a few people are invited for that part,” she clarifies, and you feel breathless at the sight of her warm brown eyes, seemingly forgetting about other brown eyes.

“How come I am invited?”, you can’t help but ask, wondering why the Ares girl suddenly seemed sweet to you when she was practically attacking anyone else. 

“Don’t ask too many questions or you’ll be uninvited princess,” the nickname rolls of her tongue in a way that makes your cheeks go red, once again.

“Fine I’ll stop asking questions and just come with my pajama’s,” you tell her, and a satisfied grin makes his way on her lips.

“Good, now back to serious stuff you were holding your sword the wrong way,” she says like it’s a fact, as if she was pointing out that the sky was blue.

“No, I wasn’t!”, you can’t help but say looking at her with wide eyes.

“Yes, it is, let me help you fix it. I need the best people on my team after all,” you get ready to object but as you feel her get behind you putting her hand over yours on the sword to put your hand correctly you find yourself speechless.

The next hour is spent fighting against each other, but you can’t stop laughing as Clarisse tells you stories of her siblings to try and distract you, which ultimately works as you often end up on your ass. You don’t even seem to notice another pair of brown eyes looking at you, farther away, brows furrowed as he looks at the scene in front of him.

--

“Welcome to the exclusive sleepover,” you hear a soft voice say and you turn around to find Silena smiling kindly at you, two glasses in her hands before giving one to you.

“Thank you, guess they really were exclusive as I had never heard of them before,” you say, feeling a bit nervous as you look around the room only to find Clarisse in a heated discussion with another Aphrodite girl.

“Clarisse only invites people that she trusts or likes, which isn’t many, but she does cares for them,” Silena smiles at the Ares girl in front of you and you can’t help but do the same, Clarisse always seemed to be angry but in that moment, she seemed far more softer.

“I’m glad she trusts me,” you say, somehow missing the look Silena gives you, a look of confusion as you seem to have missed her clue on Clarisse liking you.

Clarisse had always been discrete about it, but Silena had caught her looking at you far too often to not know about it. Her fingers always seemed to itch when you were sword fighting, as if she was itching to get your posture right and to be able to touch you even for just a few seconds. You only had eyes for the Castellan boy, or it seemed that way until yesterday when Chiron told them that you would be on their team. Silena didn’t ask much of her mother but in that moment, she couldn’t help but ask her mother for help to get the both of you together. Clarisse deserved her happy ending and you deserved someone who would love you for who you were.

She gets woken from her thoughts as she hears Clarisse talking to you, there is a nervousness in her gestures as she pushes her hair behind her ear, but you don’t seem to realize it as you recount a story. Silena quietly gets up from her spot, and sends and encouraging look towards Clarisse, who seems a bit more at ease now. 

--

Capture the flag is a mess, more than the last time but you try not to let your mind wander too long. A boy that you think is from the Hephaestus cabin runs towards you and you sigh in annoyance before starting to fight against him, quickly ‘killing’ him and making him surrender. 

You had been tasked with trying to find the blue flag, but it seemed as if Annabeth had found a really good spot this time, and she had put more people in defense. After a while you wondered if you had the wrong hunch until you saw something blue flickering in the reflection of your sword. As you turned to look behind you, you saw the blue flag but weirdly there was no one around it.

“This feels like a trap,” you can’t help but whisper under your breath as you try to hide behind the bushes but a blade against your neck makes you stop in your steps.

“Sorry, but I need to do this,” you hear someone say and you turn around to find a sheepish Percy looking at you.

“Hi Percy,” you say with a kind smile and the boy smiles back, looking reassured that you aren’t mad or swinging your sword at him.

“How are you doing?”, you can’t help but ask, you hadn’t seen him since he had been claimed by Poseidon, but the boy seemed healthy.

“Good, well as good as you can when you learn that your father is one of the big three’s and that your life will be a hellhole,” he says with a roll of his eyes, and you can’t help but snort.

“Still as sarcastic I see,” you can’t help but say while laughing and a sheepish grin forms itself on his lips.

“Can’t help it,” he says while shrugging his shoulders.

“It’s a shame you aren’t on our team,” he says quietly, and you smile softly, the two of you had talked a lot when he had arrived, and you felt close to him.

“Maybe next time,” you tell him and the boy smiles at the answer before asking you a question and the two of you talk for a moment before you hear a battle cry and see the red team suddenly making their way in the clearing, the blue team also appearing.

Percy and you look at each other with wide eyes before you take out your sword.

“If you don’t say anything about this, I won’t say anything,” Percy nods quickly and the both of you break away from the tree you were behind before joining your team as Percy joins his.

An Apollo girl comes running towards you, but you quickly manage to disarm her, others following behind her, but you are in such a haze that you don’t realize how close you are getting to the flag. That is until you are met with a familiar blade, Luke’s. 

The boy is looking at you, slightly out of breath from the fighting just like you.

“You can always abandon now sweetheart,” he says and can’t help but blush slightly at the familiar nickname. 

“No chance Castellan, give me your worst,” this seems to make the boy laugh before he quickly wields his swords, yours clashing against his in familiar movements. You had fought many times against Luke as he had taught you how to fight but you had a new trick up your sleeve that Clarisse had taught you. She had told you that his left leg was his weakness, a bruise that had never really fully recovered. 

So, when the opportunity presents itself, you wield your sword against his left leg, making sure not to hurt him too much. But as you hit the spot Luke winces in pain and his sword leaves his hand. You don’t think at that point and simply continue straight to the flag, whispering a soft ‘sorry’ as you go to the Hermes boy.

You manage to take the flag before seeing Percy coming towards you with his sword, you expect the hit, but he seems transfixed, looking at something above you. There is a loud silence, on a battlefield that was filled with battle cries just a second ago.

Chiron’s voice suddenly comes up, suddenly saying your name.

“Daughter of Zeus, king of the gods,” the rest of his words are lost as you look up, only to see the symbol of Zeus above your head, your father’s symbol.

You didn’t know how to feel, you had been waiting for so long but now that it was happening you just felt lost. Why was he claiming you right now?

“Congratulations! Seems like we are cousins now,” you suddenly hear Percy say, he has a bright smile on his lips, but there is also sadness in his eyes. It takes you a few seconds to understand why, you were now a child of the big three, which meant your life was about to be a hellhole as Percy had said.

“Always though there was something familiar between the two of us,” you try to say in a teasing tone, but it falls flat, Percy nodding in understanding.

As you turn around to look at the rest of the camp you see Luke looking at you with wide brown eyes, as if he was seeing you for the first time. You turn your gaze towards Clarisse who is looking at you with a proud smile and something else that you can’t quite understand.

There was surely a lot of trouble coming but not the one you were expecting, it would be far more complicated than monsters or a father that decided to appear after fifteen years. Matters of the heart were after all the most complicated of all, particularly between a daughter of Zeus, a daughter of Ares and a son of Hermes.