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hellobykittys · 1 month ago

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𝐓𝐇𝐄 (𝐈𝐌)𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐍 ✦ 𝐂𝐋¹⁶

SUMMARY: Charles Leclerc, a Formula 1 star, faces the decline of his reputation after breaking up with art curator Alexandra Saint Mleux. Under pressure from his team, he is forced into a fake relationship with one of the most popular influencers of the moment. NOTES: English is not my first language, so there might be some writing mistakes. I apologize for that, and feel free to point out any improvements. WC: 2.6k WARNING: enemies to lovers, teasing, fake relationship

MASTERLIST | NEXT PART

The meeting room was lit by cold lights reflecting off an impeccably clean glass table. Charles Leclerc sat at the head, his chin resting on his hand, visibly bored. The tension in the air was thick, and he already knew this meeting wasn’t going to end well. Around the table, members of Ferrari’s PR team sat, along with Lorenzo Leclerc, Charles’ older brother and personal manager.

“Let’s get straight to the point,” Lorenzo began, crossing his arms. His voice carried the firmness of someone tired of useless discussions. “Charles, we need to talk about your reputation.”

Charles rolled his eyes, setting his phone down on the table.

“My reputation? You mean the circus the media makes out of everything I do?”

“It’s not a circus if you keep giving them material,” Sofia, Ferrari’s PR head, cut in. A woman with short hair and piercing eyes, Sofia was known for her blunt and impatient approach.

“Seriously?” Charles raised an eyebrow. “Now you want to control my personal life too?”

Lorenzo sighed, rubbing his temples.

“Charles, we’re not here to debate who’s right or wrong. We’re here because your image is directly affecting your career.”

“My career’s fine,” Charles shot back, crossing his arms.

Sofia slammed a folder full of tabloid clippings on the table, making a sharp noise.

“Is it? Because from what we see here, it doesn’t look like it. ‘Charles Leclerc spotted at a party until 5 AM with a mysterious model.’ ‘Ferrari driver involved in a new controversy after a fight at a club.’ This affects the sponsors, Charles. It affects the Ferrari brand.”

Charles leaned back in his chair, rubbing his face.

“Look, I get it. But what do you want me to do? Lock myself in my house?”

“Not exactly,” Sofia replied with a cold smile that made Charles immediately suspicious.

Lorenzo cleared his throat, trying to soften what was coming.

“Charles, we’ve come up with a solution that could help clean up your image quickly while you focus on what really matters: your performance on the track.”

“Great. So, what’s the plan?” he asked, clearly impatient.

Sofia leaned forward, clasping her hands on the table.

“We’re going to put you in a fake relationship.”

The silence that followed was so deep that you could hear the clock ticking on the wall. Charles blinked a few times, sure he’d misunderstood.

“You’ve got to be kidding.”

“We’re not,” Sofia replied, serious. “The idea is simple. We want to associate your image with a public figure who’s seen as positive, inspiring, and… balanced.”

“You want me to fake being in love with someone to save my reputation? This is ridiculous!”

“It’s not that simple, Charles,” Lorenzo tried to intervene. “We’re not asking you to fall in love. It’s a contract. An agreement. None of this has to be real.”

Charles laughed humorlessly, shaking his head.

“And who’s this poor soul you’ve hired for this?”

Sofia smiled, clearly expecting this question.

“Y/N.”

The name hit the silence like a shot. Charles frowned, trying to remember where he’d heard it. It didn’t take long before the girl’s face popped into his mind. She was impossible to ignore on social media, with her impeccable style, viral videos, and appearances at fashion and entertainment events.

“You’re talking about that… influencer?” he asked, incredulous.

“Not just any influencer. She’s the influencer right now,” Sofia corrected. “Everyone loves her. She’s elegant, charismatic, and has a solid fanbase. Associating with her will change the public’s perception of you.”

“You want me to fake dating a girl I barely know and who probably thinks race cars are just fancy toys?” Charles shot back, irritated.

Lorenzo took a deep breath, visibly trying to stay calm.

“Charles, no one’s saying it’ll be easy. But think of it as a strategy. Y/N isn’t just an influencer. She’s professional, ambitious, and has as much to gain from this as you do.”

“Great. So, she’s doing it for personal gain too,” Charles said sarcastically.

Sofia rolled her eyes.

“This isn’t about what she wants, it’s about what you need.”

Charles sat in silence for a few seconds, staring at the table. The idea seemed absurd. He didn’t want to give up his freedom for some farce that, deep down, made no sense to him.

“You guys must be crazy if you think I’ll agree to this,” Charles declared, suddenly standing up. His voice echoed through the room, but no one seemed surprised by his reaction.

Lorenzo sighed, already expecting this kind of response. He knew his brother too well to think he’d accept something so outside his comfort zone without resistance.

“Charles, sit down,” Lorenzo said, his voice firm and authoritative. “You have every right to be angry, but if you keep acting like a spoiled child, you won’t get anywhere.”

“A spoiled child?” Charles laughed darkly, pointing at his brother. “This coming from you, trying to convince me to join this ridiculous show. It’s my life, Lorenzo! I’m not a puppet for you guys to manipulate.”

Sofia intervened, trying to stay professional, but her patience was clearly wearing thin.

“Charles, understand this: we’re talking about your career. It’s not just about you. It’s about the team, the sponsors, the thousands of jobs that depend on Ferrari’s success. Formula 1 is a business, and in this business, your image is as important as your driving skills.”

“My driving skills should be the only thing that matters!” he shot back, pointing to himself. “I’m a driver. That’s what I do. I’m not a celebrity who needs a fake romance to get attention.”

“Don’t be naive, Charles,” Sofia replied coldly. “In today’s world, public perception is everything. You could be the best driver on the grid, but if your image keeps getting tied to scandals, no one will want to invest in you.”

Lorenzo crossed his arms, looking at his brother seriously.

“You know she’s right. You don’t have to like the idea, but you have to accept that it’s necessary.”

Charles took a deep breath, trying to calm down, but the knot in his throat only tightened. He hated the idea of being seen as someone who couldn’t control his own life, but Lorenzo and Sofia had a point: the external pressure was becoming unbearable.

“Why her?” he asked, his voice a little quieter.

Sofia gave a slight smile, as though she’d been waiting for this question.

“Because Y/N is exactly what you need. She has an impeccable reputation, knows how to handle the media, and most importantly, knows how to play the game.”

“And how are you so sure she’ll agree to this?” Charles asked, crossing his arms.

“We’ve already talked to her,” Lorenzo revealed. “She agreed. Obviously, she has her conditions, but she’s willing to collaborate.”

Charles laughed, incredulous.

“Of course she agreed. She’s probably loving the idea of being associated with me. She’ll gain even more followers and the ‘Wag’ title. That must be her dream.”

“Don’t underestimate Y/N,” Sofia warned. “She’s far from being a superficial girl. If she agreed, it’s because she saw value in the proposal, just like we did.”

Charles fell silent for a moment, processing everything that had been said. He felt a mix of anger, frustration, and, in a way, helplessness. He hated being put against the wall, but he knew refusing wouldn’t solve his problems.

“And how long is this going to last?” he asked, his disgust evident.

“The contract is for a year,” Lorenzo answered. “Long enough to solidify the lie, but short enough not to be unsustainable.”

“And what if it doesn’t work?”

“It will work,” Sofia assured him confidently.

Charles let out a heavy sigh, running his hands through his hair.

“I hate you guys.”

“Feel free to hate us all you want,” Lorenzo replied, standing up. “But do what needs to be done.”

Sofia grabbed the folder and gave one last look at Charles.

“Y/N will be here tomorrow to talk officially. Hope you’re ready.”

With that, everyone began to leave the room, leaving Charles alone. He slumped back in his chair, staring at the ceiling, trying to accept that, like it or not, his life was about to change.

The meeting room was spacious and well-lit, with glass walls offering a panoramic view of the city. Charles Leclerc was already there, on time this time, sitting next to the conference table in a relaxed yet attentive posture. He was casually flipping through a document, but his mind was elsewhere. The decision to accept the deal still felt surreal.

When the door opened, he lifted his eyes and saw Y/N entering with confident steps. She looked calm, self-assured. She wore a fitted blazer and pants that accentuated her confident posture. Her perfume reached him before her voice, subtle yet striking.

“Hope I’m not late,” she said, placing her bag on a chair and giving Charles a brief glance before looking away.

“You’re not,” he replied, giving a slight nod, observing her carefully.

Lorenzo and Sofia entered right after, carrying folders and an air of seriousness.

“Alright, now that everyone’s here, let’s get straight to the point,” Lorenzo began, taking his seat at the head of the table. “You both know how important this partnership is, both for the team and for your respective careers.”

“It’s not like we have much of a choice, right?” Y/N commented, not aggressively, but with a touch of realism.

“Not exactly,” Sofia answered, unfazed. “But we expect you to see the mutual benefit in this.”

Charles leaned his elbows on the table and glanced at Y/N for a moment before speaking.

“And you? What do you think of all this?”

Y/N blinked, surprised by the direct question, but maintained her composure.

“I think it’s… unexpected. But I won’t deny it’s an opportunity. And you?”

He tilted his head slightly, as if considering.

“I think it could work, as long as we follow a few rules.”

“Rules?” she repeated, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes,” he answered, with a slight smile. “Like, don’t try to kill me in front of the cameras.”

Y/N let out a short laugh, almost genuine.

“I think I can follow that.”

Lorenzo interrupted, trying to keep the focus.

“Great. Let’s start by clarifying expectations. You’ll need to attend events together, create interactions for social media, and above all, look natural.”

“Does that mean we need to get to know each other better?” Y/N asked, looking directly at Charles, this time with less provocation and more curiosity.

“Probably,” he replied, her eyes holding his for a moment longer than necessary.

Sofia cleared her throat.

“For that, we recommend starting with something simple. A dinner, maybe. Nothing formal, just so you get used to being together outside a professional setting.”

Y/N looked away, pretending to think, but there was something uncomfortably intimate about the idea.

“Seems fair,” she finally said, grabbing a pen to sign the contract placed in front of her.

Charles didn’t say anything but let the corner of his mouth curve into a slight smile. He grabbed his own copy of the contract and signed it right after her.

When they finished, Lorenzo looked at both of them.

“Perfect. From now on, you’re officially a couple.”

Lorenzo’s statement hung in the air like an uncomfortable reminder of what had just been signed. Y/N grabbed her bag, ready to leave, but hesitated at the door.

“Charles?” she called, without turning around.

“Yeah?”

“I don’t plan on complicating this, but I hope you do your part.”

Charles adjusted his watch nonchalantly, as if this kind of deal was something he had mastered.

“I always do.” A discreet smile formed on his lips. “But maybe we should establish a few rules to make sure it works.”

“It’s so nice to see you both so… invested!” Sofia interrupted, letting out a light laugh. “But I’ll leave the details to you two. Just don’t kill each other, please.”

Lorenzo stood up shortly after, giving his brother a nearly conspiratorial look before giving his shoulder a gentle squeeze. When he said goodbye to Y/N, he smiled warmly, as if to say, “Good luck.”

Once the room was silent, Charles broke it with a casual tone.

“So, about those rules…”

Y/N crossed her arms, clearly determined to make everything crystal clear from the start.

“The first limit is simple: don’t touch or kiss me without prior notice.”

Charles raised an eyebrow, surprised, but entertained by her firmness.

“You do realize that’s basically what couples do, right? Touch, kiss, look close… How are we supposed to convince anyone we’re real if we’re so mechanical?”

“I never said it was forbidden,” she corrected, remaining calm. “I’m just saying, don’t do it without a reason or without letting me know first.”

He chuckled softly, tilting his head slightly.

“Do you really think I’m interested in anything beyond what this contract requires?” He stepped forward, not breaking eye contact. “What happened at the club was just an impulse, not a sign that I’m in love with you.”

Y/N narrowed her eyes, as if analyzing every word he said.

“Great. Then it shouldn’t be hard to keep your hands and lips off me.”

Charles opened his mouth to retort but stopped when he saw the look in her eyes. It was a clear challenge, with something more hidden behind that confidence.

“Of course,” he replied, finally curving his lips into a nearly provocative smile. “But I’ve got my conditions too.”

Y/N adjusted the strap of her bag on her shoulder, unfazed.

“Alright, go ahead.”

“You have to attend my races whenever you can. And when you can’t, show support on social media. It’s the least I expect.”

She let out an incredulous laugh.

“I’m gonna be your fake girlfriend, not your number one fan.”

“As my girlfriend, you should show support. Isn’t that what girlfriends do? Plus, my fans will love it. It’ll be good for our image.”

Y/N rolled her eyes but knew he had a point.

“Fine, but I’ve got commitments too. Don’t expect me to be at every race.”

Charles shrugged, still with that annoyingly confident smile.

“It’s a start.”

Silence fell between them again, but this time it wasn’t heavy. It was as if both were evaluating the other, trying to figure out what was coming next.

Y/N adjusted her bag again and took two steps toward the door before stopping.

“One more thing, Charles.”

“What?” He raised an eyebrow, curious.

“If you want this to work, stop trying to always have the last word.”

He smiled, a mix of challenge and amusement.

“That’s asking too much.”

Y/N laughed softly, shaking her head before finally walking out of the room.

Charles stood there for a moment, staring at the door she had just walked through. There was something about her that made him feel intrigued, and he knew this story was far from simple.

Outside the building, Y/N got into the waiting car and took a deep breath. “This is going to be more complicated than I thought,” she mused as the driver started the engine.

Back inside, Charles picked up his phone and quickly sent a message to Lorenzo.

Charles: “If she thinks she can challenge me, this is going to be fun.”

On the other side, Lorenzo just laughed as he read the message.

#formula 1 #formula one #f1 #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #charles leclerc #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fanfic

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mypoisonedvine · 1 year ago

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"𝙄 𝙬𝙖𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙙 𝙝𝙞𝙢 𝙩𝙤 𝙨𝙚𝙚 𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙄'𝙢 𝙜𝙤𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙤 𝙙𝙤 𝙩𝙤 𝙮𝙤𝙪." | dark!jackson rippner x reader

(I'm sorry but also no I'm not because wes craven knew exactly what he was doing when he put that line in the movie... he fucking knew...)

𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 | after following you for weeks as part of his job, jackson got a few ideas in his head about making you his, but finding out you had a boyfriend meant he needed to change his approach.

𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩 | just under 9k (wow what the actual fuck)

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 | DARK NONCON SMUT (18+ only, don't keep reading if you're not physically or emotionally mature enough to manage your own content consumption please and thank you), knife kink, stalking, forced exhibitionism, forced infidelity, humiliation, vaginal and anal sex (whoops), pain kink/painal, ass to pussy (god this fic is disgusting lmao), hair pulling, brief breeding kink/forced breeding, some angst but really it's just filth

once again, this is a dark character being dark and I don't wanna hear y'all acting brand new about it so no hate please. that said, if you do enjoy this (which I very much hope you do) please consider reblogging to support my work :) comments are especially appreciated and literally make me so so happy!!

Following you was just part of the job— and Jackson did not like his job mixing with his personal life.

The problem was, he hadn’t had much of a personal life lately. No time for it; one or two hook-ups, women he met in bars, but that’s it. And believe it or not, he wanted more than that. Nobody would accuse Jackson of being sentimental— not really an attitude you can have when you organize illegal weapons sales and political assassinations— but he wasn’t made of stone. He wanted to be able to share at least part of his life with someone… or, you know, have a nice set of legs waiting for him at home that he could get between every night. Either, or both, would do.

It was an unfortunate coincidence that his realization that he wanted a girlfriend, or at the very least a plaything of his own, came right around the same time that he started to follow you. He was only doing it to pick up on your habits, figure out a way to get to you so he could blackmail you into being his inside man for his next job. It was supposed to be pretty simple: you were a museum events coordinator in charge of an upcoming lecture series which would feature a speech from a Bolivian presidential candidate who was unfortunately unfriendly to cartels. The American government not only endorsed him, but had him under incredibly tight security. This speaking event was going to be a rare chance to get to him in a public space without metal detectors, and Jackson was being compensated generously to ensure your museum would let a few extra attendees in the back.

But see, the Bolivian presidential election was the last thing on Jackson’s mind as he watched you through your window. His eyes drifted all over you, mesmerized by the way you prepared yourself for your day— styling your hair in the mirror, smoothing the wrinkles in your white button-up, pulling those stockings up your thighs…

He caught himself biting his lip and shook it off, straightening up in the driver’s seat of his car; he knew he should probably leave then, beat you to your work and then wander into the museum to feign interest in a few artifacts before striking up a conversation. But he loitered a bit longer, letting himself imagine how quickly he could rip off those clothes you were so thoughtfully dressing yourself with.

Eventually, he managed to pull his attention away from you and start the car, sighing as he tried to remember his plan of attack for ‘accidentally’ meeting you later today.

The museum might’ve been interesting, if he wasn’t so distracted by you. He was loitering, hands in his pockets, pretending to look at the paintings and artifacts as he waited for you to be near enough to strike up an innocuous conversation with. Early in the day, he saw you give a tour to a couple considering the museum for a wedding location, but kept his distance— it could be a while before you were available and he didn't want you to notice him yet, or he'd have to justify having been in the museum all day by himself.

For the first time since he’d started this job, Jackson felt slightly nervous to speak to you. It was always a big step, going from following someone to actually approaching them, but usually it didn’t give him any specific emotional reaction. Sure, he might feel a certain amount of pressure to do this correctly lest he blow the whole thing by tipping off his target, but he never was worried something would go wrong. This time, though, he felt his heart picking up every time he glanced at you from across the museum, closer to you than he’d ever been. His palms were even a bit clammy when he saw you walk by and realized this was the moment he needed to strike. God, did he really have a crush? How pathetic… but he couldn’t worry about that now, he was about to lose his chance as you brushed by him quickly.

"Miss?" he got your attention, gently touching your shoulder through your shirt as you passed by; you seemed a little startled by the physicality, yes, but not exactly offended.

"Oh, um— can I help you?" you said. He’d heard you speak before, on the wiretap and all, but it was a little different in person like this— and directed at him.

"I was gonna ask you about this sculpture, if you didn't mind," he explained with a gentle smile.

"Oh, well, one of our dosants would love to talk to you about our collection—" you began, starting to look for the closest staff member designated to help him, but he interrupted.

"So, you don't know anything about the stuff here?"

Your attention moved back to him and you smiled to hide your obvious defensiveness. "No, I do," you assured, "I actually am uniquely equipped to tell you about this sculpture: I studied Incan art specifically during my master's program."

He gave his best 'quietly impressed' face and nodded; he knew he could get you with that, you had kind of a know-it-all thing going on, which he happened to find annoyingly attractive. "Alright, then tell me about it," he challenged.

"Well," you sighed, crossing your arms as you looked at the piece, "we got this one a few years ago, it's actually a ceremonial vessel— there’s the llama head and the bird on this side here, those were both animals with a lot of cultural significance…”

As you pointed out elements of the vessel, he leaned in ostensibly to look at where you were gesturing— but it was all an excuse to get close to you, warm you up to him.

“They would’ve used this to pour essentially a form of beer on the ground,” you continued, “in hopes of increasing the strength of the crops and fertility."

"Fascinating," he smiled at you, and you didn’t back away when he stood closer. Like fish in a barrel. "How old is it?"

"It's estimated to be about four or five hundred years old,” you explained.

"Wow," he nodded, looking at the stone carving behind the glass again. "It's interesting to me that humans have always made art— and always been superstitious. Though I have to be honest, if I was living before the invention of birth control I don't think I'd be praying for fertility."

You smirked a little, and he hoped he hadn't gone too far— but it was fun to look at you and know what you must be thinking about. He could only hope that you were thinking about it with him in mind.

“Jackson, by the way,” he introduced himself, “my name’s Jackson. It feels unfair that you’ve gotta wear the nametag and I get to be anonymous.”

You laughed a little, glancing down at the silver nametag on your blazer and then back up at him. “Fair enough; welcome to our museum, Jackson.”

“So, wait,” he tilted his head, “forgive the late reaction here, but— if you’ve got a master’s degree of that caliber, how’d you end up as an event planner?”

“Well, believe it or not, the position does require historical knowledge,” you explained. “I started in curation, though— just moved to events because I was too cooped up in the back offices… I like meeting new people.”

Although Jackson would never consider himself particularly empathetic, he did think he had a decent sense of people— specifically, when they were lying. And that felt like a lie— a white lie, maybe, but still. A lie you were telling yourself most of all, that this was what you wanted to do. And it wasn’t that he really thought you disliked your job, moreso that his two weeks of following you did not indicate you harbored a strong desire to meet new people. You were a total homebody: rejecting offers to go out for drinks or dinner from friends and coworkers, staying up late watching TV instead of hitting the town or something, shrinking into your room every night and staying there until it was time to go to work again. He’d only seen you leave your house once that first weekend, and it was to pick up groceries— that’s it. No hot date, no concerts… almost no social life at all. Either you stayed late at the museum, or you went home.

And he also found that annoyingly attractive. Jackson, after all, was a workaholic himself; he imagined he would go out and do fun things, if he had the time, but right now nothing sounded better than going home and cuddling up with a sweet girl like you, being lazy couch potatoes together, resting after a long day of espionage, cyberterrorism, actual terrorism, and whatever else his work day got him up to.

….Jesus, when did he get so goddamn sentimental?!

“It certainly seems like a unique job,” Jackson replied.

“Every day’s a little different,” you agreed.

“Sounds like my job,” he snorted, “but I don’t work with other people much— I think it would be more entertaining with other people around. Especially when they can tell me everything there is to know about Incan art.”

“Okay, I don’t know everything,” you backpedaled, not seeming to really notice the larger sentiment of his statement, “but I can certainly hold my own. I like to think we all have something we know a little too much about, and could ramble for ages about.”

“Yeah, I hope so, or we’re just weirdos,” he chuckled. “For me it’s probably cocktails. I’m not an alcoholic or anything— I actually don’t drink that much, just socially, you know— but I have this thing where I can guess anybody’s favorite drink order.”

“Oh?” you raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah,” he smirked, “but hold on, I can’t guess yours until I really get the vibes.”

“Oh,” you nodded, “yeah— vibes, sure.”

“Hmm,” he pondered, narrowing his eyes as he looked you up and down, biting his lip like he was really thinking about it.

Here was the hard part: he really hadn’t seen you go out for drinks this whole time, so he was actually going to have to guess. Of course, the fun part of this game was not actually getting it right— if anything, it worked better when he got corrected. All he really needed was to get you alone long enough to tell you who he really was, what he needed from you, and how he was going to motivate you to do it… but if he could actually seduce you first, that would be a hell of a bonus.

“I’m thinking something a little sweet, not too fruity though,” he thought aloud, “something classic— you have an old soul, I think.”

You seemed to be a little surprised by that analysis, but he figured that meant he was mostly right.

“Your cocktail of choice is, obviously, a sidecar,” he announced.

For a second, he thought he might have got it from the way you smiled, but then you started to laugh. “You were on the right track,” you admitted.

“Damn,” he snapped his fingers in playful frustration. After a pause, he realized, “you’re not gonna tell me?”

“I figured I’d give you another guess,” you explained.

“Or,” Jackson countered, “I could take you out tonight, and you could show me yourself. Your drink order, I mean.”

Alright, that was forward, but he figured he’d been doing well so far. Instead, though, you tensed up a bit, causing Jackson to knit his eyebrows together for a moment. “I would, really, but, I have plans tonight… with my boyfriend,” you said.

He swallowed behind a barely-suppressed frown. Following you for all this time and he hadn’t noticed any boyfriend; were you lying just to get him to back off? You’d seemed so flattered before. “Oh?” Jackson tried to get out in his most neutral voice. “That’s great— is he taking you somewhere nice?

“Even better,” you blinked quickly, a shy smile lifting your face. “He works here at the museum, but he’s been gone almost an entire month to pick up some artifacts from around Eastern Europe… hasn’t even been able to use a phone out there. So he’s promised to come over and give me a first look at everything he got, and apparently he’s brought something just for me, so…”

“That’s sweet,” Jackson replied, willing his nostrils not to twitch. “Nice to know he was thinking of you all the way over there. I travel a lot for my work, actually, and it’s… hard to find somebody loyal these days.”

You nodded in agreement, sighing slightly. “Yeah, it is.”

“I mean, gone for a month, no communication, no reminders of you— just out there surrounded by opportunities and nothing keeping him from them,” Jackson went on. “That’s a lot to get through without at least one drunken encounter.”

You furrowed your brow, looking at him with a sort of grimace. “I… I guess,” you mumbled in reply. “I do have a lot of work to get done so I think I’ll just let you explore,” you decided.

“What if I have more questions about the pieces?” he asked.

“Try reading the little plaque underneath it,” you suggested flatly, already turning and walking away.

Jackson watched to leave for a second before scoffing to himself. Bitch. But it didn’t make a difference anyways: one way or another, he was going to get to you— for the sake of the job, of course. Although this boyfriend character was certainly a spanner in the works of his secondary plan to get you in bed, Jackson had to admit that he was ultimately an advantage for his actual purpose with you: an attachment, something he could exploit to get what he wanted. Do what I say, or he gets hurt.

Of course, he knew he should use that to make you be his inside man for that stupid lecture series— he wasn’t going to get the second half of his payoff until the cartel had their chance to make an example out of the visiting politician. But, as a small smile crept over his face while he walked out of the museum, he realized that he could use his leverage for so much more than that.

The door was unlocked when you got home; beaming, you realized it meant that your boyfriend beat you here, and was likely waiting for you just around the corner.

“Babe?” you called out, shutting the door behind you and shirking your purse and blazer to set down on the wooden credenza.

And yes, he was waiting for you around the corner alright, but you gasped in shock and felt your stomach sink when you saw him. He was bound to a chair with zipties, restrained at his wrists and ankles with tape over his mouth, looking a bit roughed up and absolutely terrified.

“Oh my god!” you gasped, running to him, but he oddly seemed to pull away from you as much as he could when you tried to break one of the ties. “What the fuck, what’s— oh my god, are you—?” you rushed, not even knowing where to start and just focusing on freeing him. But he just kept letting out muffled grunts and shaking his head— like he didn’t want you to keep going. Of course, you’d been so shocked by it that you hadn’t even considered why he looked so scared, why he seemed to want you to get away from him: whoever did this was still in the house.

It seemed obvious in retrospect, but it was too late now; you screamed when someone grabbed you, but the sound was muted by a hand over your mouth. “Shh,” a voice beside your ear soothed as a blade pressed to your neck. “Nobody’s going to get hurt if you behave.”

Your boyfriend hung his head defeatedly, and you thought you heard the sound of him crying though it was hard to tell.

“You missed him quite a lot, didn’t you?” the man asked, and you wrinkled your brows together as you wondered how he could’ve known that he was gone for a while. “Left you all alone here, poor thing— probably got all worked up, lonely, needy… like three nights ago, when I saw you through your bedroom window, touching yourself."

Your face burned with humiliation— not even that he saw you doing that, really, but just knowing he'd been watching you for god-knows how long. That made you feel more violated than anything.

“Wanted to help you so bad,” he purred, “but I had to wait. I’m not waiting anymore— you’ve got me feeling pretty fucking impatient these days.”

You kept thinking about what you could do to get him away from you— his feet were just behind yours, you could stomp on his shoe and hope it hurt enough to distract him, or maybe you could wrench your elbow back into his side— but with the knife at your throat, you were afraid that he’d be faster than you if you tried anything. “Please just— don’t hurt me, please,” you begged, whimpering a little, not sure what else to say at a time like this.

“Oh, honey,” he cooed, “you sound so sweet when you’re scared.”

It was the way he said that word: sweet. It reminded you of before, something you’d done your best to forget about all day. Something a little sweet, not too fruity— that weird guy at the museum, he’d said it just like that. “Oh my god,” you breathed, “it’s— it’s you.”

“You remember my name, don’t you?” he smiled.

“Jackson,” you recalled, “you— oh my god—”

“I’m sure you’re a little relieved,” he chuckled, addressing your boyfriend with a grin as you turned your head enough to look up at his semi-familiar face. “She was so into me when we met today at the museum,” Jackson informed him proudly. “You wanted me to fuck you then, didn’t you, baby?”

“No I fucking di—” you began to deny with a sneer, but he quieted you with a finger over your mouth— of course, a finger from the hand still holding the knife, to remind you exactly why you should stop talking.

“Now, try anything, I might just have to hurt you— or, better yet, your shitstain boyfriend over there,” Jackson warned. “I’m just waiting for an excuse to break a few of his fingers. Don’t give me one.”

Swallowing, you shut your eyes for a longer moment— you couldn’t believe this was actually happening, like one of those horrific news articles you read before bed just to torture yourself. Like one of those horror movies guys think are campy and fun but give you the most awful sick feeling because that could really happen. And now it was really happening, and your first thought was somehow to wonder what you did wrong to let this happen.

“So, are you gonna be a good girl for me?” he asked, tilting his head down to look at you questioningly.

You nodded, but he wasn’t satisfied.

“Say it.”

“Yes,” you answered quickly, and he snarled with frustration.

“No, baby, say it like I said it,” he insisted, his tone a warning not to test him again.

“I’m gonna be… I’m gonna be a good girl…” you choked out.

“Whose good girl?” he taunted, and you groaned as you shut your eyes, feeling him pull you closer to him and press his face close to yours.

“Yours! Your good girl,” you spat out, breath picking up as you heard him purr against your cheek. “Jackson— please, you don’t… you don’t have to do this. Please don’t do this.”

You shivered as the knife pressed against you again and moved from your neck down to your shirt, gently slicing off the top button and exposing a little more of your chest. “Mm, but I want to,” he explained, “wanted you since I first saw you.”

You hated the realization that he likely first saw you quite some time ago, before you ever knew he existed, and that he’d been waiting for this ever since then.

“I think it turns you on, knowing I can do whatever I want to you,” he presumed, cutting off a second button from your shirt.

“Please just go,” you begged, starting to properly cry as his teeth grazed your neck. “You’re right— you can do whatever you want. I can’t stop you. Isn’t that what you wanted to prove? Just… just don’t make me—”

“Make you?” he repeated. “No, no— you wanted me. I could tell. Only thing stopping you was him.”

He pointed towards your boyfriend with the knife in his hand, who looked devastated and horrified to say the least.

“You could do better, by the way,” Jackson informed you. “You should be with somebody who can really treat you right.”

Another button fell to the floor; your bra was visible now, baby pink lace, and your nipples hardened from the cool air on your skin— that, and the way Jackson’s breath fanned across the nape of your neck.

“Are you getting wet for me, baby?” he whispered to you as his knife trailed delicately over your skin, tracing the curve of your breasts. “Think it’s time for me to finally give you what you need?”

You took a deep, but shaky, breath as you tried to put on a brave face and brace for what was to come. “My… my bedroom is upstairs,” you whispered, and Jackson laughed in a way that made your skin crawl.

“Oh, eager already,” he taunted.

“I just wanna get this over with,” you insisted.

“Sure,” he said facetiously with a mischievous smirk and a wink to match; you felt like you were gonna be sick. “But bedrooms are a little, you know… basic? That’s probably what you’re used to, real traditional stuff: missionary, in the bed, in the dark, for a few minutes on weekends only. That’s the vibe I’m getting, at least. You’re not used to being with somebody romantic— you know, spontaneous.”

He turned you around to face him, making you yelp a little as he spoke by your ear.

“Somebody who just has to have you; right here, right now,” he cooed, running his tongue along the outside of your ear before suddenly kissing roughly along your neck.

“N-no, please,” you begged, imagining the humiliation you were in store for if he really did fuck you on your living room floor in front of the man you loved. “Please, I— I said I’ll be good for you, just— take me to my room, please.”

"No, baby,” Jackson purred as he held your chin, “let’s show your little boyfriend here what you look like when a real man fucks you, huh?"

Whining, you jerked your arms forward to try to break away, but it only ensured the bruises his fingers would leave on your skin.

A second later, you were shoved to the ground, and he was on top of you wearing a wide grin. You could hear your boyfriend kicking and screaming in the corner, but your attention was more focused on Jackson starting to open his belt.

"Fuck! Get the fuck off of me!" you yelped, kicking and shoving as hard as you could and finding each one more helpless than the last. "You— you fucking piece of shit!"

He smacked you across the face only to pull it back harshly by the jaw, glaring into your eyes. "Better be careful with that dirty mouth," he warned, shoving two fingers between your lips until you gagged on them. "Don't need to wash that out with soap, do we?"

As you choked, you shook your head, hoping it would be enough of an apology to get you some air.

"How about come?" he joked, making you gag for more than one reason, and he laughed at the tears that rolled down your temples.

He took his fingers out of your mouth and reached down to his fly again, letting out a small satisfied sigh as he freed himself. You sobbed a little when you accidentally caught a glimpse of his erection in his hand; he grunted when you tried to push him off again, and responded by grabbing both your wrists and pinning them down above your head. He hummed as he stroked himself a bit, looking down at you trapped under him.

“Thought you said you were gonna be good for me,” he recalled, chuckling when you bit your shaking lip. “You sure you don’t need me to hurt Romeo over there, give you a little motivation?”

You shook your head. “No— I’m sorry, I’ll do what you say. Don’t hurt him.”

“Open your legs,” he ordered.

Hesitantly, you lifted your legs up a bit and spread them, cringing at the happy groan you heard when your skirt started to roll up your thighs.

“Don’t move your hands,” he warned before he let go of them, leaning back and looking down at you: spread out under him, his for the taking.

He snapped off the last few buttons of your shirt, humming when your torso was exposed further. His hand started at your neck and ran down to grope your chest through the lacy bra; he purred, pinching your hardened nipples until you were forced to react.

Pulling it down, he took a quick breath at the sight of your bare tits— his chest rising and falling— and he set his knife aside to knead them both with a hum. "Been thinking about these for a while…" he mumbled. You gasped when he leaned down and captured a nipple in his mouth, suckling with a wide mouth as you scrunched your nose and looked away. Still, it made your insides pulse when he swirled his tongue around, only to pop off a second later and move to the other. "Damn," he breathed, leaning back again to move his attention lower.

Starting at your knees, he rubbed your legs carefully, moving a little higher every time until he was gripping needily at your thighs; his own breathing was a little faster as he did it.

You hadn't exactly imagined how this would be, obviously, but you still were surprised at how long he was taking. Was he just trying to build up the anticipation to scare you? Or was it for his own benefit?

He was gentle for just a few seconds before suddenly flaring his nostrils and ripping your stockings open. Through the new hole in the fabric, he rubbed your panties and you bit down on your tongue to avoid crying any harder.

“Fuck,” he breathed, then laughed, as he pet your cunt through the lace— they matched your bra, of course. Your boyfriend was coming back from a long trip, you’d wanted to do something nice for him… that idea backfired completely. “All dressed up, matching and everything… you’re too good to me, babydoll.”

You were about to correct him, make sure both of them knew that this had nothing to do with Jackson, but your open mouth only let out a gasp when Jackson pulled your panties aside to touch you.

“Oh, baby,” he groaned when he slid two fingers between your lips. “So wet. Fuck. When’d you get like that, huh? Hmm, it was the knife, wasn’t it?”

He looked over at your boyfriend and gave him a terribly smug look while he slipped a finger inside your hole.

“Women like a sense of danger,” he informed the tied man flatly. “But… I think your girl likes it even more than most.”

You flexed on his finger, turning his attention back to you, and he licked his lips as he slipped another finger in until you winced.

“That’s too much for you already, baby?” he noticed. “Fuck, I might break you…”

He curled the fingers inside you, clearly trying to get you warmed up for him, and you shut your eyes tight in hopes your face wouldn’t show any reaction. There was a sense of relief when he stopped and pulled his fingers out, but it didn’t last long since the next thing he did was grab your jaw and press those fingers to your lips.

“Ever tasted yourself before?” he asked, and you tried to turn your face away but it was useless. “Come on, it’s good, I’ll show you.”

He licked his own fingers first, moaning in satisfaction as he did it.

“Fuck, it’s sweet,” he promised. “Now you try it.”

This time, when he put his fingers to your mouth, you opened it and let him push them inside. He slid them over your tongue, watching you with dark eyes.

“Suck them,” he instructed you quietly, almost a whisper, and though your cheeks burned you wrapped your lips around his fingers and hollowed your cheeks. “Mm, that’s it— see, you can be a good girl. Knew you could.”

You were panting a little, for some reason, when he took his fingers away, leaving your mouth slack and wet. He brought his hands down to his fly to finish freeing his cock, and you looked up, to the side, basically anywhere but at… that.

“Look at it,” he encouraged you, and you shook your head. “Don’t you wanna see it before I put it inside you?”

You figured you could get him to shut up if you just did it, so you went ahead and took a glance down at his erection in his hand, only for a terrified whimper to catch in your throat.

“I can tell what you’re thinking,” he grinned. “Trying to remember the last time you had a dick this big, right?”

Trying to figure out how that’s supposed to fit.

“Get on your hands and knees for me,” he demanded suddenly, sitting back enough to get you room to do it.

You hesitated, and he suddenly looked angry as he grabbed your wrist and yanked you up a bit until you yelped.

“Go on! Hands and fucking knees, did I stutter?” he ordered, louder.

You were a little sore and weak all over, and it became even more apparent when you awkwardly got up off the floor; you avoided your boyfriend’s gaze as you took the position, opting to just stare down at the rug under you instead, suddenly fascinated by every detail in hopes it could somehow distract you from this. From the feeling of him delicately pushing your skirt up over your ass and his hands all over you, from the way he pushed your knees apart with his own and settled between them, from the sick drop in your stomach as his cock’s head rubbed over your clit and lined up to your opening. Yes, it sure was a riveting pattern on this rug alright…

But, of course, Jackson wouldn’t let you get through this that easily. “Beg for it,” you heard his firm voice from behind you.

“Jackson, come on, I—” you choked, “I— just—”

“It’s okay, babydoll, go on…” he egged you on, as if shyness was the reason you were hesitating.

“Please…” you began, shutting your eyes tightly. “Please fuck me.”

You tried not to react too much when he pushed inside, but it was big, and he himself let out a husky groan at the feeling as he filled you. You managed to stay silent at first, but a little squeak came out halfway through, and it turned into a loud sigh when he was all the way inside. “Fuck,” he breathed, dropping his head back with a breathy laugh. “Fuck, it’s tight. Guess that’s what happens when nobody’s here to treat you right— and I don’t just mean because he was out of town. I can tell nobody’s given you what you need in a long time…”

Before you could wonder what could possibly make him capable of telling that, he took a tight hold of your hips and began to fuck you— slower than you expected, but not quite delicate.

Shaking, you tried to keep yourself propped up on your wobbly arms as he set his pace, and tried to keep yourself quiet while he did this. The last thing he needed was any more reasons to think you liked this.

Still, you couldn’t fight the whimper that came when he suddenly slammed himself into you, rougher than before; your thighs even quivered for a moment. “Fuck,” you choked out, under your breath, and he hummed back at you as he sped up a little.

“Not too deep, is it?” he asked, though it didn’t seem like he was actually concerned for your well-being (obviously). “Not used to anything this big, huh?”

You were afraid he was going to force you to answer that, but instead he surprised you by putting a hand between your shoulder blades and shoving you down; you gasped and grunted when your chest pressed to the floor, your face thankfully turned to the side against the rug— but unfortunately, it meant you were looking right at your boyfriend. You had to shut your eyes, too ashamed that he was seeing you like this.

“There, you like that better?” he purred as he held your hips up against his, but the new angle only forced him deeper until you were choking on nothing with every thrust. Your hands searched wildly along the floor for something to hold onto, but eventually just had to settle for gripping the rug for dear life. “Mm, fuck, s’good— you feel so fucking good, baby…”

The compliment sent an unwilling shiver up your spine, and your back arched even deeper than he’d forced it to. It was too much, it was all far too much, but your toes were curling inside your (ruined) pantyhose and you bit down on your lip without thinking about it.

“Oh, see how much she likes it?” Jackson grunted, apparently still addressing the captive boyfriend in the chair— you really wished he would just leave him out of this. “Fuck, what a pretty little whore…”

Not only could he switch from sickly-sweet to rageful in a moment, but you realized that he could somehow seem to be both at once. Still spitting out praises and insults all at one, he fucked you rougher and meaner as your moans— pain or pleasure, you couldn’t tell anymore and you didn’t want to— grew louder. He kept getting more aggressive— harder and faster, harder and faster— until you were all but screaming and you couldn’t keep your hips up anymore. Each thrust pushed you down until you were flat against the floor, but he kept fucking you and holding the back of your neck. One thrust seemed to go too deep suddenly, and you yelped as you reached back to try to grab his thigh out of instinct.

“Shh, shh, s’okay, baby,” he assured with a hiss. “Fuck.”

But he kept doing it, kept fucking you deep (if a little slower) as you whined and shook under him. “Jackson,” you heard yourself breathe, “please— I-I can’t—”

“God,” he growled, “say my name again. That’s so hot.”

You hadn’t meant it like that, but now it was too late. “N-no,” you tried to deny, but that didn’t last long as he grabbed you by the hair and forced your head up, laying over you enough to speak right against your ear.

“Say. My fucking. Name,” he spat.

“Jackson,” you choked out against the strain on your throat from having your neck cranked back like this. “Jackson, f-fuck—”

He groaned and dropped your head, propping himself up so he could fuck you faster again; his gaze moved down to where his body filled yours, where each thrust made your ass bounce under torn pantyhose…

As he slowed down for a moment, panting, you wondered if maybe it was almost over— maybe it already was, but that seemed too good to be true. He was still holding you down just as hard, anyway; he put his whole weight on your arms as he turned to look at your boyfriend tied up in the chair.

"Does she do anal?" Jackson asked him point-blank.

Your struggle renewed as you screamed angrily— but you couldn't keep it up, it fell into a helpless sob a moment later. Your boyfriend didn't give much of an answer— couldn't, really, on account of the duct tape— just kicked around against his restraints again.

Jackson shrugged as he looked down at you crying under him. "Well, you do now," he decided, pulling out and spitting into his hand.

You’d never felt so helpless, laying there on the floor while he pushed his fat tip up to your puckered hole. “Please,” you begged for mercy, but you didn’t even have the energy to lift your head from the rug and it was all muffled and pathetic.

“It’s really not that bad,” he insisted as he started to press forward, but your whole body jumped and you let out a loud whine when his head slipped inside with a sort of pop— all that pressure giving way to a sick, stinging stretch.

“Oh my god oh my god,” you whimpered, feeling goosebumps break out all over your body from the sharp pain. “I can’t— please, I really can’t—”

“Shh, it’s okay, I’m gonna go real slow,” he promised under his breath, moaning loudly as he pushed in a little deeper. Laying on the floor like this, there was really nowhere for you to go, no way to run from the feeling. “Just breathe, long slow breaths— focus on staying relaxed.”

Frustratingly, it was actually pretty good advice; it certainly didn’t make it painless, but when you shut your eyes and thought as much about breathing and as little about anything else as you could, it helped.

“See? Just relax, babydoll,” he whispered, but relaxing could only do so much as he slid the rest of the way in and you felt like your whole body might go numb. Your eyes rolled back, your insides (all of them, it seemed) flexed, your heart was pounding… you felt sick, and disgusting, and used.

He breathed heavy as he laid his weight on top of you, slipping an arm under you to wrap around your shoulders and neck.

"Fuck, that's a tight fuckin' ass," he grunted, laughing a little as he glanced at your boyfriend, slowly beginning to move again. "This one's got you spoiled, huh? How'd a loser like you get your hands on a perfect fucktoy like this?"

He bit down on the shell of your ear as he picked up his pace quickly— way too quickly— and soon he was growling each time he slammed his hips against your ass. You couldn’t even tell what noises you were making anymore…

"But you're gonna be mine now," he whispered to you. "Oh fuck, s'all gonna be mine. Gonna fill these pretty holes of yours every fuckin' day."

You dropped your head down defeatedly onto the floor, though shocks of pain were still making your fingers and toes curl while he roughly fucked your other hole.

“Yeah, fuck, you fuckin’ like it,” he snarled as he fucked you faster. “Needy little slut. You like getting all your holes filled, huh?”

You simply bit down on your lip, not realizing it wasn't a rhetorical question.

"Answer me," he insisted.

"I-I don't like it," you said— quietly, because if you spoke any louder it would've been mostly unintelligible with sobs.

"Huh?" he taunted, leaning in closer.

"It hurts, Jackson," you choked, pleading.

“No?” he noticed, feigning shock with heavy sarcasm in his tone. “Are you saying you don’t like it up the ass?”

“Please, please,” you choked out, “fuckin’ hurts— god, please, hurts—”

"You don't like it, sweetheart?" he cooed at you, cloying condescension dripping from every word as he roughly pet the hair out of your face. You whined and shook your head. "Well, I could always put it back in your cunt, would that make you feel better?"

He chuckled at your grimace of disgust.

"Is that too dirty for you?" he wondered, clicking his tongue. "Aw, it's okay, just gonna give you what you wanted— hold still, baby."

You winced when he pulled out of your ass, only to whine as he slid back into your cunt; you hid your face, feeling how absurdly warm it had become from all this, and tried not to think about how dehumanizing what he had just done to you was.

He picked his pace right back up when he entered you, letting out a deep groan of satisfaction. "Oh my god you're fucking dripping, is that from being fucked in your little ass?" he noticed. "Jesus Christ, wettest fucking pussy I ever had... somebody likes it dirty, hm?"

You wanted to deny it, but he wasn’t lying about your physical reaction; you were soaking, and you didn’t even know why. It wasn’t like you found much pleasure in that experience physically, it was rather agonizing— and then there was the thought of it, of knowing you’d been used that way, and it just made you feel dizzy and weird. Regardless, it was true… your body responded even when your mind was running in circles convincing itself there was nothing enjoyable about this.

“Such a pretty thing,” Jackson purred at you as he sped up again, shaking your whole body against the floor— that arm around your shoulders was the only thing keeping you from being pushed away, and he held you tightly like he really was worried you’d get away somehow, even though you’d stopped resisting quite a while ago.

At least it didn’t hurt anymore— except that you were still a little sore, and he was holding you too tight and his weight made it hard to breathe, and you were probably going to get rug burn, and you felt disgusting. But in a literal sense, it hurt less.

“Think I need to turn you over and get a good look at that pretty face,” he decided, pulling out of you and rolling you onto your back. Maybe it was just because you knew it was only for a moment, but being empty wasn’t as much of a relief as you expected. You were pretty much limp by this point, letting him turn you over and simply looking up at him blankly. “Oh,” he said as he smiled proudly, “look how fucked out you look— and I’m not even done with you yet.”

Lifting your legs and pressing them against your chest, he slid back in until he was deeper than you thought possible, and you gasped and shivered helplessly. “F-fuck, wait—“

He started to fuck into you quickly, and you nearly screamed, reaching down to try to hold his thigh or push him back or something to keep him from going so far inside you, but nothing deterred him. For how drained you were a moment ago, the shock of this gave you renewed energy, and you hated feeling your walls bear down on him in sick, overwhelming pleasure. “Oh god,” he moaned, “so fucking good.”

As hard as you were trying not to be loud, your efforts were lost when he reached down and roughly rubbed at your swollen clit; again, you tried to reach to stop him, holding onto his wrist and pushing his hand away with all your strength, but he bested you easily and kept going. “Fuck!” you screamed. “Please, please— it’s too much, I—”

“It’s okay, baby,” he soothed, watching proudly as your back arched and your head tilted back with a gasp.

You hadn’t even realized you were building to an orgasm— you would’ve sworn you weren’t, before, but now you felt all sensitive and sticky, and his thumb on your clit was relentless, and the shivers that had been running all over you all evening were turning into hard, heavy jolts of— of something. Something you’d been holding back longer than you realized. Something you hadn’t felt in much, much longer than three weeks.

“It’s okay,” he kept encouraging you with a proud grin that turned into a growl through his teeth as he fucked you harder. “Show him what it looks like when you’re not faking it, babydoll. Show him who you really belong to now.”

“Please,” you cried, the word barely spoken and more just a shape you made around your cries. If he didn’t stop now, you wouldn’t be able to, either; you were spasming uncontrollably, inside and out, it was just getting worse and worse (or better and better, depending on how you looked at it).

It felt fucking good. You would die before you admitted it, but you didn’t have to— it was obvious. And it was overtaking everything now, even your shame, until for one impossible moment, you were completely shameless. You weren’t sure you had ever felt quite like that before— not just physically, but spiritually. Shameless. Even though all you’d felt until now was ashamed. “Good girl,” Jackson praised you, though it was sort of lost on you as you were coming down from a high that hit you hard enough to not even feel real until it was nearly over.

It was like time had slowed down, and then snapped back to superspeed, to hyperreality, when he finally pulled his hand away and let you have a small reprieve.

"Fuck, I'm gonna come, oh my god," he gasped, his voice getting oddly high-pitched as he said it. "Want me to come inside, babydoll, or paint that pretty face?"

“Not… not inside,” you warned, just conscious enough to remember that.

“Mm? Why not?” he smirked.

You were still blinking away the blurriness in your vision, panting, trying to process all that you’d just felt— so you really didn’t have any energy for stupid questions like that. “What?” you just asked groggily. “Why… why do you think?!”

He just laughed briefly— more like a hum— and kept going. Of course, you should’ve known he’d do it once he realized your boyfriend didn’t; but wasn’t it enough that you and your boyfriend used condoms and Jackson had already gone past that?

“Just— just don’t,” you begged again, shut up with a firm hand over your mouth suddenly as he grunted lowly above you with each thrust.

“Fuck,” he said, a sort of warning though it wasn’t specific. “Fuck!”

He bit his lip when it happened; you shut your eyes, not wanting to see his face all slack and flushed like that with his hair falling forward and his neck and jaw flexing. But closing your eyes only made the feeling inside you more undeniable: the rush of warmth, the flexing against your walls as he pushed himself in as deep as he could. You whimpered a little, though you weren’t sure it was audible to anyone but yourself, and Jackson sighed as he emptied himself into you.

He took his hand away with a deep breath, and all you did was let your mouth fall open and your eyes blink numbly— what else was there to do?

As he caught his breath, he laughed a little, very softly; he put his hands on the floor beside your head, propping himself up but letting his head hang down loosely for a second— he was still smiling.

“You’re… you’re really something else, you know that, babydoll?” he informed you.

You didn’t say anything, and he sighed again just before he pulled out— you both winced, for different reasons, and he took a moment to hold your legs open so he could look at what he’d done to you; you felt filthy and exposed like that, but you were too weak to try to stop him or even to close your legs.

“Now that’s just beautiful,” he decided in reaction to whatever he saw; you didn’t want to picture it, how stretched out and used up you must look, but you could feel his come oozing out, running down.

Some of the numbness was already wearing off, at least physically, and you were beginning to realize how purely un-ergonomic it was to get fucked on the floor. Your back and shoulders were sore, your legs were tight when you finally got to lay them down again after being held up for so long… you tried not to imagine how long you’d be feeling the effects of this, wearing bruises and feeling knots and having to know exactly where they came from.

“Come on,” he mumbled as he lifted up your limp upper body, pulling you closer to him. He held your face for a second, petting your cheek which was still a bit clammy with sweat. “Kiss me,” he demanded, though he said it somewhat softly; you didn’t actually sit up and do it for him, but you let him press his lips to yours and you tried your best to half-heartedly mirror his movements as he did it.

He held your head and neck more firmly and slid his tongue into the kiss, making you whimper a little but that was the end of your protest. You thought it was a little strange that he wanted to kiss you now, but maybe it was just a matter of claiming you in the final way since he’d pretty much covered all the others.

When he broke away, he brushed his thumb over your cheek and smiled at you sweetly.

It’s over, you told yourself, hoping to feel more relieved. It’s over, he’s finally done with you. You did it. It’s over. But as those words repeated in your mind, you only felt emptier than ever.

“Look at your boy over there,” Jackson mumbled beside your ear, a smirk on his lips as he shook you a bit with the arm around you. “You see it, don’t you? He looks different now.”

You dared to glance at your captive boyfriend, who you realized you hadn’t heard muffled protests from in quite some time. His eyes were bloodshot and swollen, but dark, too; his stare was heavy and piercing. You suddenly felt sick.

“He looks at you different now.”

You bit down on your lip as it started to shake; you felt worse than ever with him looking at you like that. Things hadn’t been perfect before he left— nothing’s ever perfect— but they were good, and easy, and now you felt like he hated you. But what had you done wrong? All you’d done was try to keep him unharmed by appeasing this awful, horrible person…

Jackson had already been speaking quietly, but he dropped his voice down to whisper as he rubbed your shoulder. “I don’t think he’ll look at you the same way ever again,” he posited, and you swallowed as your stomach dropped.

“I don’t… I don’t understand,” you whispered under your breath.

“He’s never seen you like that before,” Jackson explained, “and he understands now that he can’t do for you what I can.”

Jackson brought his hand to his own chest as he said that, but then reached up to wipe up another tear that rolled down your cheek. “Please,” you said, looking at your boyfriend though he wouldn’t meet your gaze, “don’t— don’t think that I— it’s not my fault! I didn’t want this to happen!”

“Shh, you don’t have to lie anymore,” Jackson cooed at you, “we’ve all seen the truth now, it’s alright.”

You were exhausted, you were devastated, you were too overwhelmed to even feel terrified anymore; you dropped your head onto Jackson’s shoulder defeatedly. After all you’d been through tonight, you were starting to lose track of what was real anymore.

He let you cry quietly against him for a while, petting your head, until finally breaking the silence. “Now, the thing is, there’s actually just… one more thing I need you to do for me,” he admitted, and you started to cry harder again.

“Please— please, I did everything you asked,” you sputtered out through your tears, “you took. Everything. From me.”

“Hold on, that’s not true,” he frowned, “you’ve still got your cuck boyfriend over there, even if he’s not quite what he used to be— you still love him, don’t you? Can’t help that?”

“O-of course I do,” you insisted, feeling oddly guilty as you said it.

“So, you don’t want me to hurt him?”

Even if this was the end— even if he would hold what was done to you against you, which would break your heart— you couldn’t have that on your conscience. You shook your head.

“I didn’t think so,” Jackson nodded, “you’re too sweet for that. I won’t hurt him, and I’ll let him go, if you promise to do what I ask you to.”

“What more… what more could you possibly want…” you breathed, shaking your head, trying not to imagine what else there was for him to do to you.

“Something a lot less fun than what I wanted before,” he smirked. “What I need from you now is purely work-related.”

You wrinkled your brows together with a sniffle as you began to slowly compose yourself. “Work…?”

“Let me tell you a little bit more about what I do for a living…”

#jackson rippner x reader #jackson rippner smut #jackson rippner dark fic #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy smut #red eye fanfic

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quojae · 2 months ago

Text

- Where your roommates male bsf changes your life forever -

f!reader x sunghoon - college au - kissing - living together - mutual feelings - fluff

a/n: hello loves 𖹭 i really hope you enjoy this cute and fluffy short story (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)

wc 7.2k

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starting college will always be nerve racking. of course you look forward to it - its a step into a brand new world, who wouldn't be excited. yet at the same time, leaving behind everything you've known to move in with a stranger, its a strange feeling to describe. for some extroverts its thrilling, and for some introverts its downright terrifying. you aren't quite sure how to feel about it. the tangle of nerves in your stomach has yet to unwind itself, so you sit on your new bed, in your tiny dorm room, staring at a blank wall unsure what to do next. your life that you managed to pack into four boxes is all laid out in front of you. clothes, stationary, that one blanket you've had for as long as you remember, all in front of you waiting to be placed in its new spot in this unfamiliar room. the clunk of a door opening startles you out of your thoughts. you jump a little, instinctively straightening up on your bed as the door creaks open. in the doorway stands a figure, the silhouette of someone about your age, holding a few bags, a backpack slung over one shoulder. they look just as unsure as you feel, glancing around the room with a mixture of curiosity and hesitation.

"uh... hey," they say, their voice sounding friendly, but there's a hint of nervousness. "i guess this is my room…"

the air between you both feels awkward at first - like neither of you knows quite how to break the ice.

you both probably have a million thoughts running through your heads, each of you wondering what this new chapter is going to bring. but here you are, in the same boat, just two strangers trying to figure out how to make this work.

you clear your throat, “im… y/n, it’s nice to meet you.”

the girl standing in the doorway smiles and steps further into the dorm, dragging a large suitcase behind her, “wonyoung, jang wonyoung,” her voice is sweet, making you feel instantly more comfortable.

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after the initial awkwardness things were simple, easy. despite the fact your new roommate, wonyoung looked quite literally like a fairy princess, she was approachable and friendly and you easily grew close. things were surprisingly simple. the early days were full of small talk, the nerves slowly settled as the days passed, and you found yourself laughing more than you thought you would.

wonyoung was, as your first impression suggested, impossibly pretty - like someone who belonged in a fairy tale. Her hair was always perfectly styled, and she had this effortless grace about her that made you feel like you were in the presence of royalty. But for all her beauty, she was so fun to be around, charming, funny, and completely approachable. it didn't take long to realize that behind the porcelain skin and delicate features, there was a real person - someone warm, and wonderful. after meeting her friends you fit in immediately, they were so welcoming to you it was like finding another family. your social circle expanded daily as she introduced you to new people. it was fun, it was what college was supposed to be and you were enjoying every minute.

college was fun of course, but college was also a lot of work. You would often find yourself sitting at your small desk that was crammed into a corner of the room writing essays into the late hours of the night. sometimes wonyoung would stay up with you, also writing an essay, other times she would just chat with you, simple conversations to help make work feel a bit less like work. it was one of these nights, you were writing a paper, wonyoung was lounging on her bed, in frilly pink pajamas, as usual. yet tonight she was a bit distracted, still chatting with you, but sometimes there would be an awkward break in conversation as she thought deeply about how to respond to a text she had gotten.

after rushing through the conclusion of your paper and throwing on pajamas, ready to collapse and fall asleep for the next few hours until your painfully early 9am class you realized wonyoung was still awake, still laying on her bed, staring at her phone.

"what's up?" you ask, your voice tentative.

she hesitates for a moment before responding, her tone a little strained. "Oh, sorry. i'm just having a bit of an argument with my mom."

you sit up a little, concern rising. "well, what's going on? maybe i can help."

"the thing is," she begins, her voice quiet, "one of my childhood friends is coming to campus for a seminar or something - it's not a big deal - and my mom wants him to stay with us so he doesn't have to pay for a hotel." she finishes speaking and quickly types a response to a text, her brows furrowing as she does.

“that doesn’t seem like a big deal,” you respond, “i wouldn't mind”

She lets out a sigh “i wouldn't mind either, the real problem is my friend who she wants to stay with us, is a guy, and knowing his personality im afraid he would make you uncomfortable.”

your mind processes that for a moment before responding, “well, he is your friend, i'm sure it won't be too bad, why not let him stay with us for a bit, he can sleep on our couch.”

wonyoung pauses her furious typing to look at you with a worried expression “are you sure?”

you smile “yeah, why not!”

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a month had passed since that late-night conversation with wonyoung, and it had almost slipped from your mind entirely - until a knock at your door startled you out of your thoughts. you sighed and set down your textbook, walked over to the door, expecting a delivery or a neighbor needing something, but when you opened the door, you froze.

a man stood there, holding a duffel bag. he wasn’t someone you recognized, but that wasn’t what left you speechless. it was his appearance, the sheer perfection of it, that took your breath away. his hair was perfectly styled, framing his sharp jawline and angular features in a way that seemed too flawless to be real. His thick brows arched perfectly above his eyes, which held a sharp, almost intense gaze. the contrast between his dark hair and pale skin made him look like something out of a fashion magazine, or maybe a dream.

you stood there for a moment, completely frozen, unable to process anything other than the fact that this was the most beautiful man you’d ever seen. his presence seemed to fill the cramped hallway, his features so striking it almost felt like you were staring at a sculpture.

and then it hit you - how disheveled you must look standing in front of him. you were wearing an old graphic tee, the one you’d picked up from a random bin in a clearance section years ago, paired with old shorts you used to use for painting, that you found at the back of your closet, because you didn’t feel like putting any effort into your appearance, you were supposed to be alone, at home it shouldnt have mattered. your hair, which you hadn’t bothered to style, hung messily around your face, and you hadn’t even washed your face that morning. the contrast between the way he looked and the way you felt was almost too much to bear.

for a few seconds, there was nothing but awkward silence as you stared at him, trying - and failing - to hide the sudden wave of self-consciousness. you could feel heat rising in your cheeks. in that moment, you wished you were somewhere else, anywhere but here.

finally, you managed to find your voice, stumbling over your words. “hi there… i think you have the wrong room.”

he just stood there, like a model, with his duffel bag hanging by his side. then, after what felt like an eternity, he spoke, his voice smooth, “you’re wonyoung’s roommate, right?” His tone was casual, but there was an edge to it that made you pause.

"wonyoungs roommate?" you repeated, still feeling disoriented. How did he know wonyoung? you racked your brain, trying to make a connection. had Wonyoung mentioned someone like this to you? but nothing clicked.

you nodded, your voice shaky as you confirmed, “yes…” you glanced at him again, unsure what to make of this strange encounter. His presence was both overwhelming and oddly comforting, as though you were in the presence of someone who didn’t belong in the same space as you—but at the same time, something about him felt… familiar.

the man seemed to take in your reaction with a slight, almost amused smile, as if he could read the confusion on your face. Without saying another word, he shifted the duffel bag on his shoulder, waiting for you to respond or make sense of the situation.

after realizing you really had no idea what was going on he decided to save you by finally saying “im her friend, im staying with you for a few days, she was supposed to mention it to you.”

at that moment you remembered your conversation with wonyoung from a month ago, “oh, right, yeah, she mentioned you…. please come in” you smiled, to be welcoming, but also because you were happy you managed to form a complete sentence without stuttering. you rarely stutter, but for some reason just being around this man made your brain get all jumbled up.

he stepped in and put his duffel on the small sofa that was shoved against a wall, “im sunghoon park by the way,” he paused, “figure we should introduce ourselves considering we will be living together for a bit.”

you smile, “im y/n, its nice to meet you sunghoon.”

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later that night, wonyoung insisted on taking you and sunghoon out to dinner. with a bright smile, she told you both that she wanted her two closest friends to get along, and that this dinner would be the perfect opportunity for that. you agreed, though part of you was still a little unsure. it wasn’t that you didn’t want to get along with sunghoon, it was just you hadn't had any interaction with him after the initial encounter that morning, and you were still embarrassed over how you had presented yourself.

wonyoung led the way to a small, unassuming family restaurant tucked away on a quiet street. The place was a little hidden gem - one of those hole-in-the-wall spots where the food was always good, but the decor was simple. the moment you walked in, the warmth of the place, along with the smell of freshly made food, made you feel comfortable. You had been to places like this before, but this one felt special in its own way. the atmosphere was cozy, with wooden tables and the faint hum of conversation around you.

the food came out quickly, and you couldn’t help but notice how much wonyoung seemed to enjoy every bite. she was talkative as always, offering you both recommendations, and even playfully teasing sunghoon when he hesitated over what to order. sunghoon rolled his eyes but smiled, it was obvious that this was a common interaction between the two of them. there was a comfort in the way they interacted, an ease that made it clear they had known each other for a long time. the way Sunghoon would tease wonyoung about anything and everything - whether it was her ordering too much food or her inability to sit still during a movie - always seemed to make her laugh, and she’d respond with exaggerated reactions, her eyes widening and hands gesturing dramatically as though hed just committed the most heinous of crimes. you couldn't help but smile as you watched them.

as the evening wore on, you found yourself feeling glad wonyoung had invited you to this night out, appreciating the warmth of the night and the way both wonyoung and sunghoon made sure you felt included. even though sunghoon and wonyoung were so close sunghoon still made an effort to talk to you and be kind, he truly was like a prince charming, he was kind, a bit awkward and so fun to talk to. despite the fact you were having such a fun time, there was an odd tightness in your chest that you couldn’t quite explain. every time wonyoung and sunghoon would get close - whether it was during one of their teasing exchanges or when they laughed about something that only the two of them understood - it was like a knot was slowly forming in the pit of your stomach. you didn’t have a reason to feel that way, but every time they’d share a private joke or lean in to whisper something to each other, the feeling only seemed to grow stronger.

the more you observed them, the more you noticed just how comfortable they were with each other, how they seemed to have this unspoken understanding that made them look like they had their own little world. you didn’t want to be the third wheel. you wanted to be part of the group, part of the laughter and lighthearted teasing. and yet, the longer you sat there, the more aware you became of the small, quiet ache inside you.

you pushed the thought away as you took a sip of your drink, trying to focus on the conversation and join in, but no matter how hard you tried, that tightness in your chest wouldn’t fade. something about the way they interacted—so effortlessly, so naturally—stirred something inside you. as the evening came to a close, and the three of you made your way out of the restaurant, wonyoung turned to you, clearly happy that the night had gone so well.

“i’m glad you two got along!” she exclaimed, her eyes bright a smile stretching across her face. “See? i told you it wouldn’t be awkward.”

you smiled back, truly happy with how the night went.

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the rest of the week passed in a blur, marked by the usual mix of classes, assignments, and the general hustle of daily life. Nothing particularly exciting happened, but it wasn’t a bad week - it just felt... routine. you and sunghoon barely crossed paths, which wasn’t unusual. you were both busy with your own responsibilities, and with the way your schedules lined up, there were days when you didn’t even see him at all. you found yourself buried in textbooks and lecture notes, trying to keep up with assignments, while sunghoon was often caught up with his own seminar work or running errands. it was easy to slip into the regular rhythm of solo study sessions and late nights hunched over your desk despite the new presence in your dorm. Still, there were moments - small, fleeting moments - that made everything feel a little more... charged.

there was the time when you were sitting in the kitchen, focused on an assignment, when sunghoon had come in to grab a snack. you hadn’t even noticed him at first, too wrapped up in the words on your screen, but when you glanced up, he was standing there, looking at you with that quiet smile of his.

“do you need help with that?” he’d asked, his voice soft and casual, the kind of tone that seemed to put you at ease instantly. There was something comforting about the way he spoke, like his words wrapped around you in a way that felt effortless but sincere.

then there was the time you were both sitting side by side on the couch, flipping through TV channels, both of you tired and looking for a distraction after a long day. The silence between you wasn’t uncomfortable, but when his hand brushed against yours as he reached for the remote, you felt a jolt of warmth rush through you. you hadn’t meant to linger, hadn’t meant to let the moment stretch out, but you couldn’t help it. your heart fluttered in your chest, and for a second, you wondered if he’d felt it too.

sunghoon never said anything, he just went about his business, as if the casual touch meant nothing at all, and you did your best to pretend it didn’t either. yet, even after he’d moved his hand away, the feeling lingered, and you found yourself unable to focus on the TV or the conversation. it was like your pulse was a little faster, a little more alive.

then there were those small, unspoken interactions - the moments when you’d both find yourselves in the same room, but you didn’t need to fill the space with words. Whether it was passing each other in the hallway or sitting at the kitchen table eating dinner, there was a quiet connection that seemed to hang in the air, just under the surface. every now and then, you’d glance up to find him already watching you, your eyes meeting, and in that fraction of a second, something unspoken passing between you.

you couldn’t quite put your finger on it, but it was like a quiet tension that seemed to weave itself into these tiny, everyday moments, and it wasn’t just the brush of hands or the small gestures - it was the way Sunghoon spoke to you, the tone of his voice, the slight curve of his lips when he said something sarcastic or playful. there was an effortless kindness in the way he treated you, a gentleness that you didn’t see in everyone. it wasn’t overwhelming, but it was enough to make you feel... seen, in a way that felt different from what you were used to.

the thing was, you weren’t sure if you were reading too much into it. it was easy to get caught up in the little things, the glances, the words, and let your mind wander into places it shouldn’t. even so, you couldn’t help it. every time he spoke to you in that calm, reassuring tone, or when his presence filled the space beside you, your heart would flutter - sometimes so quietly that you’d almost wonder if you imagined it, but other times with enough force that it made it impossible to ignore.

you knew it was a silly thing to feel—after all, you were just temporary housemates, maybe friends, but there was something about Sunghoon that made everything feel... different. even in the quiet moments, the ones where nothing particularly noteworthy happened, your chest would tighten in a way that was unfamiliar. his kindness, his subtle presence, the way he made you feel like you mattered - it all had an effect on you that you weren’t sure how to handle.

by the end of the week, you couldn’t quite shake the feeling that something was shifting, that these small, seemingly insignificant moments were adding up to something more, what that was, you weren’t sure. for now, you pushed those thoughts aside, telling yourself that you were just overthinking it. after all, sunghoon was just being himself - kind, polite, and friendly, like he always was.

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"sunghoon is leaving in a few days, you know," wonyoung remarked casually one afternoon.

that simple statement immediately shattered your focus. your mind went blank, your heart sinking like a stone in your chest. you’d known this was coming, of course. it wasn't like he had moved in permanently - it was always just a temporary arrangement from the start. yet hearing it out loud, made something tight and uncomfortable coil in your stomach. you weren't sure what this feeling was, but it was definitely unsettling.

“oh, really?” you finally managed to say, trying to sound casual even though your pulse had quickened. "So his seminar is over now?"

wonyoung nodded, but there was a knowing glint in her eyes. A look that made you feel like she was holding some secret. she didn’t say anything for a second, just giving you a soft, almost teasing smile.

"yeah, and because he's leaving in a bit... if you're going to say anything, you better do it soon."

her words hit you like a cold splash of water, and you froze, a little caught off guard. "what would i say?" you asked, confused. your mind was trying to catch up, but you were too tangled in the unexpected wave of emotions that had come up at the mention of sunghoon leaving.

wonyoung’s smile widened, and she leaned in a little, lowering her voice in that familiar playful way of hers, the one that made her seem both impossibly wise and annoyingly knowing at the same time. "well, it’s not like you two are subtle about it. there’s clearly something going on between you two. there’s like this... electricity that keeps zapping between you guys."

she giggled lightly, clearly amused by your reaction, but you were too stunned to laugh with her. instead, your cheeks flushed a deep shade of red. the words hit you harder than you expected. your mind raced. so it wasn't just you. wonyoung had felt it too. The way things seemed to shift between you and sunghoon whenever you were in the same room, the strange moments when you'd catch each other’s gaze and feel that spark of something you couldn’t name. it wasn’t like you’d been outright flirtatious - at least, you didn’t think you had - but it seemed like it had been more obvious than you’d realized.

“w-wait, what?” you stammered, feeling your heart race. You tried to compose yourself, but it was impossible. “you think there’s something going on between us?” you couldn’t quite suppress the nervous laugh that followed, as if somehow distancing yourself from the weight of what she was saying.

wonyoung raised an eyebrow and gave you a mischievous smile, "oh, don’t play dumb. it’s pretty obvious, you know. the way he talks to you, the way he looks at you - even the way you two sit next to each other. it’s like there’s this... i don’t know, magnetic pull? and i can feel it in the air when you two are together."

her words hung in the air, lingering, and your mind was swimming. did sunghoon feel it too? that same strange energy that seemed to buzz when you were around him? you had always thought it was just your mind playing tricks, creating tension where there was none, but hearing wonyoung so casually acknowledge it made you question everything. it was almost like she’d peeled back the layers of your feelings and laid it all out in front of you, leaving you exposed in a way you hadn’t expected.

your stomach did a flip as you tried to make sense of everything. sunghoon was leaving soon and wonyoung was giving you a chance to do something, as if you had any idea what to do with the feelings swirling inside you. you had often laid in your bed wondering what exactly was going on, but now that wonyoung laid it out for you like this, you knew. you knew you were in love with sunghoon, hearing that he was leaving made your heart sink and now all you wanted was to run to him and beg him not to leave, because despite the fact you hadn't spent much time together, you became dependent on sunghoon, used to him, and you wanted him to stay.

you swallowed hard, looking down at your hands as you tried to hide your growing embarrassment. "i... i don’t know," you muttered, more to yourself than to her. "… i don’t know if it even matters, right? i mean, no matter what happens between us he still leaves," you could feel the heat rising in your face, and you silently cursed yourself for how obvious your feelings were.

wonyoung’s expression softened just a little, her tone turning more understanding. "i get it," she said gently. "it’s not exactly easy to spill your heart out to someone. i can’t tell you what to do, but i think if you feel something, maybe you should at least say it before he leaves, because once he's gone, it'll be harder to figure out what you might’ve missed out on, you know?"

she didn’t push any further, your mind was reeling, and you could feel the uncertainty clouding your thoughts. you weren’t sure what was happening between you and sunghoon—how deep it went, or what it even meant - but the pressure of this conversation, combined with the reality that he would be leaving soon, made everything feel like it was happening too quickly.

as wonyoung gave you one last knowing smile, she added, "i’m not saying you have to do anything drastic. just think about it, kay?"

you nodded, your thoughts were already a whirlwind. you knew you couldn't just let it go. it would always be one of those things where you would sit in bed wondering ‘what if’ for too long. love, this was a new feeling for you. love always seemed difficult, but this, this was so easy to fall into you hadn't realized what it was until it was too late. sunghoon had made it so easy.

wonyoung’s words echoed in your head, and suddenly, nothing felt certain anymore. You had a few days left. just a few days. the clock was ticking.

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it was later that night, after dinner, when the weight of wonyoung's words hit you again, reverberating through your thoughts, refusing to let you go. Sunghoon was leaving in just a few days. you knew this, but somehow it felt like a punch to the gut now that it was so close.

you sat on the couch next to him, the dim light of the TV flickering across his face as he absentmindedly scrolled through netflix. the air between you was easy, like it always was, the kind of comfortable silence that felt almost too natural. but tonight, with the knowledge that his departure was soon, the air felt heavy. Every small movement, every quiet gesture, seemed to be marked with an invisible countdown.

you watched him for a moment, feeling the tightness in your chest you had gotten used to. he was relaxed, his posture slouched slightly as he clicked through show after show, clearly not expecting you to say anything. but you wanted to say something. you needed to say something. the words wonyoung had planted in your mind, coupled with the overwhelming feeling of knowing he was leaving, made it impossible to just sit there in silence. your heart was pounding, your nerves a jumbled mess.

As you opened your mouth to speak, you realized it wasn’t that simple. telling someone you loved them was hard. so much harder than it seemed in movies or in your daydreams. you had thought, at some point, that the words would just spill out naturally, like they were meant to be said all along. but now, facing the reality of it, the vulnerability felt like mountain.

So instead of speaking, you did something else. something quieter, something that felt less like a declaration and more like a question. slowly, almost hesitantly, you reached your hand out, just brushing your fingertips against his. you didn’t look at him; you kept your gaze fixed forward, pretending to focus on the TV, as if you hadn’t just made that small, brave movement. the room seemed to shrink around you, the silence between you both suddenly stretching out, more palpable than ever.

for a moment, you weren’t sure if he’d even noticed. Maybe it was too subtle, too small a gesture to register. But then, from the corner of your eye, you saw his head turn, his gaze flicking down to where your hand rested next to his. Your heart skipped a beat, and for a moment, everything inside you stilled.

then, without saying a word, sunghoon’s fingers curled around yours, gently but firmly. He didn’t pull away. he didn’t hesitate. he just... took your hand. It wasn’t a dramatic gesture, but it was more than you had expected. your stomach did a somersault as warmth spread through you, starting at the point where your fingers touched, and radiating outward. your skin burned, and you could feel the flush creeping up your neck, your face.

the world around you seemed to fade as you sat there, hand clasped in his. you were so acutely aware of everything—the warmth of his touch, the soft pressure of his fingers against yours, the slow, steady rhythm of your breath. It was the closest you had ever been to him, in every way that mattered, and it felt like both everything and nothing at once. the simplicity of the act, his hand in yours, was enough to make your heart race. the gentle squeeze of his hand seemed to echo through you, sending a ripple of something warm and unspoken deep inside your chest.

but you didn’t move. you stayed frozen in place, not daring to disturb the moment, not wanting to break whatever fragile connection you had just forged. your heart pounded in your ears, and the more you sat there, the more everything inside you seemed to tighten—like a knot pulling at your insides. You couldn’t remember the last time you had felt so vulnerable, but you couldn’t seem to pull away either.

for a few seconds, neither of you spoke, and you weren’t sure if you even wanted to. The silence felt like it was filled with a thousand unspoken words, each one hanging between you like a delicate thread. finally, Sunghoon shifted slightly, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand in a slow, soothing motion, as if to confirm that this was real. That he wasn’t going anywhere.

you still couldn’t bring yourself to look at him, but when you did, just a quick glance to the side, you saw him watching you—his eyes soft, the usual calm expression on his face now laced with something else. something deeper. maybe he could feel it too. the electricity that wonyoung had mentioned, the tension you hadn’t known how to name.

the words you wanted to say felt even further out of reach now, lodged in your throat like a lump you couldn’t swallow. but somehow, it didn’t seem to matter anymore. in that moment, you weren’t sure if you needed to say anything at all. maybe the feeling, the connection between you, spoke louder than anything you could put into words.

still, with your heart beating faster than you thought possible, you squeezed his hand back, just slightly, in response. And though neither of you said a word, it felt like the start of something new—something quietly, beautifully uncertain, just hanging there in the air between you both.

it wasn’t a promise, not yet. but it was enough, for now.

‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋ ‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋

the days had ticked by, each one blurring into the next, the anticipation of sunghoon’s departure hanging over you like a storm cloud. it was the night of his departure now, and you couldn’t escape the feeling of dread gnawing at your stomach. despite all the time that had passed, despite everything that had happened - the moments of shared glances, the way his hand had felt in yours - nothing had come of it. you hadn’t been able to find the courage to say the one thing that had been consuming you.

the night had crept up so quickly, and now here you were, standing on the precipice of something you were too scared to face. his luggage was already packed, sitting by the door, ready to go. the knowledge of his impending departure made the air feel thick, suffocating. he was leaving soon, and you were still standing here, frozen in this quiet, impossible space between wanting to say something, anything, and not knowing how to.

you had never felt so lost, so desperate, so deeply in love with someone and completely clueless about what to do with it. Your heart ached every time you thought about the distance that was about to grow between you.

sunghoon walked into the main living area, a smile on his face as he picked up his bags, but as soon as you saw him, something felt off. that smile, it was there, but there was something sad about it, something weighing him down. for a moment, the rest of the room disappeared, your gaze was locked on him, and the reality of him leaving hit you harder than you thought it would.

behind him, wonyoung trailed quietly, her usual fuzzy energy subdued tonight, as if she could feel the heaviness of the moment too. she looked at you as she walked by, and gave you a look, as if trying to signal you to do something. then, almost as if on cue, she quickly excused herself, making some excuse to go greet a friend in the hallway. it was a subtle, unspoken thing, but you knew. you knew she was giving you the space, the time you needed, and probably a nudge to do something.

Sunghoon stood there, his eyes searching yours as he adjusted the straps on his bag. The silence between you felt like it stretched on forever. He gave a quiet, almost melancholy sigh, and then, in a soft voice, he said, "This was fun."

the words were simple, but they hit you like a brick to the chest. you could hear the weight in them, the bittersweet finality of his departure hanging in the air like smoke. ‘this was fun.’ It was the kind of thing you’d say when you didn’t know what else to say, but in that moment, it was more than just that. It felt like an ending. a goodbye.

your legs felt shaky as you stood up from your seat, the adrenaline coursing through your veins, your heart in your throat. every inch of your body screamed to move, to do something, anything, to make this moment more than just a quiet exchange of words before he walked out the door and disappeared from your life.

you walked over to him, your steps uncertain, but each one felt like it was pulling you toward something you couldn’t ignore anymore. you stopped just in front of him, close enough that you could see every detail - the sharp line of his jaw, the curve of his nose, the soft brown of his eyes that you had gotten so used to over the past weeks. he was standing there, looking at you, and for a moment, everything in the world seemed to disappear except the two of you.

tears welled up in your eyes, unbidden, as your chest tightened. how could you let him leave when you hadn’t even told him how you felt? you tried to speak, but your throat closed up, the words tangled somewhere in the back of your mind. you could barely think straight, your mind a mess of emotions and the rush of adrenaline flooding your body.

before you even realized what you were doing, you reached out, pulling him into a tight hug. you buried your face in his chest, your whole body shaking with the force of the emotions crashing through you. the tears that had been threatening to fall finally broke free, hot and heavy, soaking into the fabric of his shirt.

at first, he stiffened in your arms, and you felt a pang of regret, like maybe you’d done something wrong—like maybe you were crossing a line. then, to your surprise, he melted into the hug. his arms wrapped around you, warm and solid, pulling you closer as though he had been waiting for this too. you could feel the steady thump of his heart beneath your cheek, his breath warm against your skin.

you stayed like that for what felt like an eternity, just holding each other, the world outside fading into the background. your tears continued to fall, but now it wasn’t just sadness. There was a strange sense of relief mixed in with the pain. like finally, something had been said between you, even if it wasn’t with words.

you held onto him tighter, your fingers clutching at the fabric of his shirt like you were trying to hold onto him for dear life. The feeling of him, of his warmth, of his presence, made everything feel raw and real. you had no idea what was going to happen next, but for this moment, for this breath in time, you didn’t care. you couldn’t bring yourself to let go.

he didn’t say anything. he didn’t need to. his arms around you, the quiet rhythm of his breathing, said everything that needed to be said. the ache in your chest was still there, but it wasn’t as sharp anymore. In this embrace, it was softened by the connection between you both.

as the minutes passed, you couldn’t help but think - this wasn’t the end, not really. It couldn’t be. not with everything that had been left unsaid, not with the way you felt when you were near him.

he lowered his head slowly, pressing his lips to the top of your head, his breath warm against your skin. it was gentle, like he was trying to hold on to the moment as long as possible. then, without pulling away, he lifted his head just enough to whisper softly, almost as if he were sharing a secret with the world only meant for the two of you:

“I think I’m in love with you.”

the words were quiet, but they hit you with the force of a thousand unspoken emotions. it wasn’t grand; it wasn’t a loud proclamation. It was simple, gentle, and so incredibly, him, and somehow, it was perfect. When picturing a confession of love you always imagined more, a dramatic confession like one in the movies. despite your imaginings as a child, this quiet, intimate confession felt like everything you needed, it was perfect.

as his words settled around you, something inside of you released. that knot of emotions - of fear, of longing, of the weight of everything you’d been holding in - unraveled all at once. the tension that had been building for so long, the feeling that something was always just out of reach, was finally gone. you felt lighter, as if a great weight had been lifted from your chest.

for a long moment, you just stood there, staring up at him. your eyes were red from crying, but in that moment, all you could feel was an overwhelming rush of relief, and joy, it felt like you could finally breathe again.

“i love you too,” you whispered, the words spilling out more easily than you’d expected, like they had always been sitting on the edge of your tongue, just waiting for the right time to escape.

it was simple. there were no grand gestures, no sweeping speeches. it didn’t need to be anything more than this. the words themselves held so much power, so much weight, that nothing else could compare.

his eyes softened as he looked down at you, and you saw the way they flickered with emotion, something raw and real in the depths of his gaze. he didn’t say anything. he didn’t need to. the silence between you was filled with everything you’d both been too afraid to say until now.

then, he leaned down, tilting his head ever so slightly, and pressed his lips against yours. The kiss was soft, almost tentative at first, as if he was making sure you were really there, really with him in that moment. then it deepened, and the softness turned into something more needy, more urgent.

your hands instinctively reached up to run through his hair, threading your fingers through the soft strands, pulling him closer. His hand slid around your back, tracing the line of your spine with a tenderness that made your breath catch. his lips moved against yours with a quiet desperation, a sense of longing that seemed to echo the way you had felt all this time but had never known how to express.

every cell in your body seemed to come alive. the kiss felt like everything you had been waiting for - every moment, every touch, every word that had been left unsaid - it was all pouring into this one instant. in that moment, you knew. you knew that this was where you were supposed to be. There was no question. No uncertainty. Everything about this felt right.

your heart raced in your chest, and your whole body seemed to hum with the intensity of the kiss. it was as if the universe had aligned in this perfect moment, pulling the two of you together in a way that felt inevitable. you were no longer two separate people standing on the edge of something unknown. you were together, and nothing else seemed to matter.

you didn’t want to pull away. you didn’t want this feeling to end, the heat of his body so close to yours, the way everything seemed to fall into place with every soft press of his lips. The world outside didn’t exist anymore. There was only him, only this moment, and the overwhelming certainty that everything had changed in the best way possible.

as the kiss deepened, you felt the warmth of his hands moving down your back, his fingers slipping under the fabric of your shirt. The way his touch sent sparks through your skin, igniting something deep inside you, made you feel alive in a way you hadn’t known you could. you pulled him closer, wanting more, wanting to stay wrapped in the feeling of being so completely connected with him.

when you finally, reluctantly, pulled away for a breath, your foreheads rested together, both of you panting lightly, still caught in the aftershocks of the kiss. his eyes were closed for a moment, his chest rising and falling rapidly, and when he opened them again, the look he gave you was full of something unspoken - a promise, maybe, or just the overwhelming weight of everything that had passed between you.

"i don't want to leave," he said, his voice low, rough, as if he were still processing everything himself.

you smiled, your thumb brushing over the side of his cheek. "then don’t," you whispered, your heart daring to hope that maybe, just maybe, there was more to this story than either of you had realized.

for now, though, this moment - this kiss - was everything, and it was perfect, just as it was.

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 8 months ago

Text

🧁 cupcake analysis 🧁

YES, YOU READ THAT CORRECTLY 🤡 I’m still fixated on the cute character-themed cupcakes we got from the recent TsumTsums x TWST collab… so I’m going to talk about more things I noticed in the cupcake designs by dorm + by individual characters!

Mmm, cupcakes… 🧁 I would make these if only I had the tools to make all of the painstaking little details—

Heartslabyul

They all have checkered cupcake liners with a half-painted white rose. Famous Heartslabyul iconography!

Their names are written out in a white cursive font. Not the wackiest they could have gone with, but it fits the whimsical style of these cupcakes.

Riddle

Of course, we have strawberries—a fruit from Riddle’s favorite dessert, his beloved strawberry tarts (which also have personal significance to him, being as it was a strawberry tart’s taste that entranced him and made him late to return home as a child). The ring of frosting piped around the strawberries kind of creates the illusion of a tart’s puff pastry with the fruit nesting inside.

Red frosting made with a piping tip to resemble a big rose! Again, more famous Heartslabyul iconography.

IT HAS RIDDLE’S HEART AHOGE 😭

The cupcake also has the crown and a ribbon similar to the ones he wears in his Dorm Uniform~

Unlike the other Heartslabyul cupcakes, Riddle’s is predominantly one color: red. This could be referring to how Riddle is the most rigid in the dorm and someone who demands uniformity and preaches absolutism (“follow the rules”, “paint all the roses red”, etc.).

Even so! There are still little gold and blue sprinkles (though still in a neat arrangement)! I like to think of them as sprinkles of hope and a willingness to change… the first step he’s taking outside of his comfort zone!

No card; this makes sense since Riddle is also the only one without a card suit mark on his face.

Trey

The cookie iced to look like his hat…

Another cookie iced to look like the three of clubs heart (for obvious reasons)!

Trey’s cupcake looks kinda fuzzy like moss, so that leads me to believe the frosting got dipped in sanding sugar to give it texture or something. This makes the cupcake look like it’s an unassuming shrub—and really, isn’t that what Trey claims to be? He’s not an exciting red rose like Riddle, he’s the mild-mannered “normal” guy there to support the flower as the leaves and shoots.

Sugared violets as a topping! Nice way of incorporating Trey’s favorite food into this.

He has a little dusting of sprinkles too; maybe because it was him that showed Riddle “a whole new world”.

There seems to be a layer of jagged chunks (maybe crushed pistachios) along the rim. Feels quite different than the rest of the cake—maybe it’s to represent the less kind side of himself that Trey sometimes alludes to.

Two cookie sticks, which remind me of like two spears crossing to block off a path to the queen. On-brand for Trey, who initially follows Riddle’s orders to a T and kicks out his rule-breaking underclassmen.

Cater

There’s a LOT going on here, and I wonder if that’s in part because Cater is a Magicam fiend and in part because he’s using his flashiness to distract from looking deeper into him. This cupcake reflects that idea well, especially with the colorful sprinkles in the center (as opposed to spread out like Trey or Riddle’s) to make the otherwise mainly orange and red cake pop out more on a social media feed. It also could mean that Cater really keeps to himself, as the sprinkles are not spread outward.

If you look closely, the frosting vaguely resembles Cater’s hair. There’s a larger dollop in the middle which sort of looks like the middle section of his hair that’s pulled back.

There’s lots of little decorations that resembles the decorations on Cater’s phone case—an item near and dear to his heart.

The orange slices can be sweet—the impression that Cater tries to give off—but the pretzel implies a savory taste—what he actually prefers to eat.

There’s a squiggle of darker orange under his name. Is it to call attention to his identity? Cater tries to seek validation and attention from socials, so maybe this is a call to action.

Cater’s cupcake is the only one in his entire dorm that has TWO cards (both four of diamonds). One is probably a cookie and is in full color whole the other is one solid color (brown) and made of chocolate. Most likely this is referring to his UM, which allows Cater to create clones of himself. I wonder if the second card being chocolate alludes to something else too… Namely, the more melancholy and downtrodden part of himself that Cater usually does not let his peers know about 😔

Also two cookie sticks! Similar meaning as Trey’s, especially given that Cater was the first upperclassman to toss Adeuce out (after he gets them to paint the roses for him).

Ace

Ace of hearts card!

A sprinkle of hearts… Are any of us surprised??

His frosting is very ruffled and playful, much like his personality.

The cupcake is more on the simple side compared to many of the others; this is also very “Ace” of him, as Ace is commonly described as “the average high school boy” and has indicated himself that he has no particular goals or ambitions yet.

There’s a cherry on top! Very bright and cheeky, just like Ace—oh, and let’s not forget, cherry pie is his favorite food!

There’s also what appears to be almond shavings on Ace’s cupcake; almonds are actually very closely related to cherries so it’s a great pairing! If we really wanna stretch it, maybe it’s a reference to how Ace is skilled at mimicking or copying others, as the taste/smell of almond and cherries can be commonly mistaken for one another.

Deuce

Two of spades card!

Deuce’s cupcake has a very different texture to it. Unlike the others, his is very smoothed out and almost shiny (like a mirror glazed cake!). It makes me think this is to help him stand out as someone who is trying to reform and reinvent himself into something sparkling—especially seeing as the blue part of the cake seems to be covering up/glooping over the body of the cupcake itself.

Little candy eggs (one with a crack in it) and a baby chick! A callback to him liking egg dishes and the utter despair he experienced when he first learned that supermarket eggs aren’t fertilized…

The light blue squiggle makes me think of Deuce meandering and not knowing where he wants to go in life, representative of his delinquent phase or perhaps struggling to stay on the straight and narrow path of an honors student.

Finally, we have the grey marks on the cupcake which look like tire marks left from skidding around on a magical wheel/blastcycle, Deuce’s preferred mode of transportation!

Deuce's cupcake goes from blonde/yellowish to blue, which probably refers to him going from bleached hair as a delinquent to his natural hair color as he tries to reform himself.

Savanaclaw

Golden yellow cupcake liners with Savanaclaw’s signature horizontal zigzag pattern.

Their names seem to be done in a blocky text on chocolate. Fits the tough, somewhat rigid hierarchical feel of the dorm.

Leona

A crescent moon-shaped candy invokes the imagery of Scar singing the final line to Be Prepared as he and the hyenas ready themselves for the coup.

The darker frosting swirled on the side be interpreted as his scar or maybe the end of his tail.

Cacao nibs kind of remind me of rocks, perhaps to symbolize the hard childhood Leona had, desperately trying to prove himself to people who didn’t like him in the first place. There’s notably also golden specks there—a ray of hope for him to be better? Or maybe a nod to his noble lineage.

The chocolate sauce makes this cupcake feel very decadent but also adds to the dark look of it. I would say it resembles blot, but none of the other OB boys have this same feature. Maybe a hint at Leona’s depressive traits?

Wishful thinking on my part, but Leona’s cupcake is the only one in his dorm with a large splash of green (thanks to the leaves there). I like to think it’s him “turning over a new leaf” and turning his sights onto his internship + working toward helping to help preserve nature and discover energy efficient methods to help his country.

His cupcake is the “tallest” in Savanaclaw (because of how high his frosting is)—he’s obviously the leader of the pack.

Ruggie

Very decadent cupcake. A large scoop of ice-cream, nuts, pastries, tons of cream and frosting… it looks like someone just piled on all their favorite desserts (which suits a glutton like him). Even his own cake looks like it’s about to burst out of the liner!

Two donuts inserted in, because 1) they’re Ruggie’s favorite and 2) two is better than one!

The scattered chunks of chocolate resemble the pattern on the coat of a spotted hyena, which is what Ruggie is.

Jack

WHY DOES HIS CUPCAKE JUST STRAIGHT UP LOOK LIKE HIM… The two paler frosting peaks are his ears, the two-tone swirl results in his hair but also results in the high peak of his tail.

This cupcake has a lot of nuts (I see a walnut, a cashew, maybe crushed peanuts, and many whole hazelnuts). Maybe because Jack is “a tough nut to crack” due to his stoic and standoffish attitude? But we all know he’s a sweetheart deep down, perhaps why the most abundant of these nuts is hazelnuts, often used in many desserts and especially paired with chocolate.

xvsjwveiwk This is a slightly unserious note but there’s something whitish that night be dried coconut??? Sprinkled on the cake… I-Is that Jack shedding/j

Octavinelle

Each Octavinelle cupcake has a black macaron decorated to resemble their dorm uniform hats! The filling is purple (like Octa’s usual color) and has candy pearls (since they’re from the sea).

Their names are written in an elegant flowing font, with emphasis on the first letter of their names (slightly bigger than the other letters). It provides an impression that differs from the other letters in their names, much like how the Octatrio themselves can be deceptive.

A bowtie that matches what each boy wears in his dorm uniform.

The sprinkling of little purple pearls could really be nothing, but they could also be all the powers/abilities they have collected together.

Azul

The single chocolate stick (not two, unlike Cater and Trey’s) could pass as a straw, making the whole cupcake appear like a drink. Makes sense, the Mostro Lounge has a 1 drink minimum + his Dorm Uniform vignette is all about how he wants to buy the rights for the popular Mystery Drink from Sam.

A little contract and writhing chocolate tentacles pair nicely together. Together, they represent his UM and how his tendrils reach out to pull people into deals.

Azul also has a scoop of ice-cream, but it is notably VERY different looking than Ruggie’s. Azul’s is much smaller (because he moderates what he eats and how much) and neater too (because he cares about his tidy appearance).

There is a swirl of purple frosting on the bottom but most of the frosting is white and piled high. The former must be Ursula’s skin, and the latter her hair, as it is similar in shape.

His cupcake liner has the widest stripes (because he used to be overweight in the past) and has little purple dots (maybe in reference to the suctions on his tentacles).

Azul keeps the spiral seashell that resembles Ursula’s necklace.

Azul's cupcake goes from purple to white, which may denote his transition from octopus merman to human.

Tweels

The twins have a scalloped seashell that splits in half, representing the other brother. The way the shell divets also makes it look like a heart shape, implying the brothers “share a heart” or perhaps calling back to how both of their UMs involve “the heart” (Shock/Bind the Heart).

Their frosting is the color of their hair, even containing a stripe of black (in opposite directions) to match their hair. The frosting also seems to be slightly textured, which matches the gills and scales on their merforms.

The peak of the frosting resembles the ends of their eel tails flicking in opposite directions.

Three diamond-shaped “scales” on each cupcake; this is ghe same shape and design as the earrings they wear.

A ring of purple frosting is included; this could represent Azul, someone whom the twins closely work with and consider a great source of amusement. It’s telling that the purple frosting is below the teal frosting, as the twins have made it clear before that they’re not his minions or “below” him, they act independently and choose to follow Azul because they want to (and have the agency to leave whenever).

Jade

Jade’s cupcake liner has the most numerous and thinnest vertical stripes. There is also a very fine zigzag running through the liner. Very similar to Jade’s teeth arrangement and how they present as small but frequent.

Jade's cupcake stays a consistent color throughout the creation process.

Floyd

Floyd’s cupcake liner is in the middle of Azul and Jade’s in terms of line spread and thickness. The zigzag is also more elongated than Jade’s, matching Floyd’s more easygoing personality between the two twins. He’s also more likely to show his full teeth!

Floyd's cupcake goes from gold to teal, but Jade does not do the same or even the reverse. Maybe this hints at how Floyd is the more fickle brother?

Scarabia

Scarabia cupcake liners are color blocked with solid black and a deep red with an intricate golden pattern. Matches their dorm uniforms well!

They have snake biscuits with their names in bold, blocky all capital letters for impact. The biscuit shape suits the Sorcerer of the Sands. The text choice… I’m not sure, maybe to match the “casual streetwear” style of the dorm…? Or the dorm leader’s brazenness and overt friendliness?

Kalim

His earrings have been made into an edible version!

Thumbprint cookies that resemble glistening jewels! This, plus the colorful sugar pearls, represents Kalim’s immense wealth.

There’s a bow tied around his cupcake liner, which matches the cloth he wears around his head in many outfits of his.

The feathers that transition in color are for Kalim’s love of animals and willingness to accept others of all kinds (“colors”). This could also be a reference to his Dorm Uniform vignettes, where he pulled off a trick that made white birds appear to be “rainbow”.

At first I thought the white puffy frosting was to look like the Sultan’s turban, but wouldn’t they make it smoother and resemble one cohesive lump in that case…? Then I realized the white frosting actually resembles a CLOUD 😭 which fits Kalim so well, since he takes his friends out on magic carpet rides…

The red peak poking out of the top could be like… the domed roof of a tower, since there is one both for the Sultan’s palace and in Scarabia dorm. The white sprinkles/coconut shreds on the red part also gives the impression that the roof just poked through the clouds www

VERY tiny detail but if you look closely you’ll notice that Kalim’s cupcake is… lumpy… almost as though he tried baking for the first time himself and messed it up a little, so Jamil took over decorating for him to cover up the mistakes. (That’s headcanon anyway, lol)

Jamil

Jamil’s cupcake is a two-tone twirl thar matches the colors of his dorm AND the turban he wears when he overblots.

We have the classic red feather, three golden orbs, and a thumprint cookie (again, resembling a jewel) to match Kalim’s and to match Jamil’s hair accessories!

The little bits of gold sprinkled around are hard to place but maybe it’s to show how Jamil has to put Kalim first and foremost while his own feelings get dismissed/belittled/treated as less important.

Large chunks of chocolate on top! Not sure what this could be, but a part of me wants to believe it’s his depressive or defeatist traits, since Leona also has chocolate, but scattered. (Can you tell I loved these two’s interactions in book 6?)

Finally, we come to the enigmatic and out-of-place golden squiggle. Someone as meticulous as Jamil couldn’t possibly have intentionally placed that there, right…? Allow me, if you will, to circle back to the “Kalim was trying to bake with Jamil” theory… What if, while Jamil was decorating Kalim’s cupcake to cover up the unevenness of the cake, Kalim tried to thank Jamil and repay the favor by decorating Jamil’s cupcake??? And it resulted in… that squiggle… so Jamil had to roll with it and make the rest of his cupcake look as aesthetically pleasing as possible.

Pomefiore

All Pomefiore names are written in elegant script on a chocolate disc that is also stamped with the stars and moons of their dorm.

The cupcake liners have the same stars and moons pattern and has the colors of Pomefiore.

Vil

Similar to Riddle, Vil has a crown to show that he is the dorm leader. His is, of course, a different design to reflect a different queen (the Fairest Queen, not the Queen of Hearts).

The frosting has a slight gradient which is the same as the tips his hair.

The golden leaves match the leaves on the back of his dorm leader tiara/crown.

There are berries on top; notably, a red one still has a bit of leaf and branch stuck to it, making the berry look like a red apple (you know, cuz the Evil Queen used one to poison Snow White).

Vil has golden dust and two types of round candies evenly dispersed on the cupcake. It shows us how clean and yet elegant his personal style is.

Rook

Rook's cupcake has a very unique shape that is not quite like any other student's. Indeed, his cupcake resembles his hat (note the little feather sticking out of the top purple part) and bangs (the lower yellow part).

The purple part looks like it is made with an extruder and results in a texture similar to the top of a mont blanc; this is probably to help differentiate it from the smoother texture of the yellow beneath. Since the purple is a hat, the texture is most likely to make it seem more "fabric-like".

The yellow part + the color change from yellow to purple may also be a reference to how he was originally in Savanaclaw, but then transferred to Pomefiore.

An edible bow and arrow motif befitting of a skilled huntsman!

The squiggle line here seems to be showing the path of his arrow, which always finds its mark. Additionally, Rook himself is a tricky person and usually employs roundabout strategies or misdirecting ways to achieve his goals.

At the end of the arrow's path is a cluster of what seems to be pomegranate seeds, which seems odd and something more befitting of Idia or Ortho (who have ties with Hades; there is a tale about Hades having Persephone eat a pomegranate fruit which dooms her to spending half of her time in the Underworld). However, I think here the pomegranate seeds are meant to be... like... an artistic, abstract depiction of blood once the arrow strikes its target.

There's blueberries on top, an element he has in common with Vil (someone whom he devotes himself to). The leaves here with the berries tie Rook to the wild, both as a huntsman and has an ex-Savanaclaw student.

Epel

The pale purple color of the frosting is the same as Epel’s hair!

Unlike Vil’s sprinkled-on decorations, Epel’s are not spread out evenly and instead cluster at the top. This may be attributed to their different levels of maturity, as Vil and more knowledgable than Epel, who expresses outdated views on gender and has a limited understanding of the world due to coming from a very rural area.

There’s a fine shimmer on Epel’s cupcake—probably because his arc in book 5 was about learning to appreciate and weaponize his beauty.

Two apple slices because… well, when you think of Epel, you think of apples and the Felmier family business!

There seems to be a little bit of yellow peaking out from the cake? Are those more apple slices or an apple filling…?

The pale frilled strip of frosting resembles a lace collar, something which Epel wears in his school uniform.

Epel is the only member of Pomefiore to have a cupcake which LACKS a blueberry (or really any berries at all). This is a subtle indication that he is the “odd one out” within the dorm, as he, unlike Rook, is not conforming to the standards set by his dorm leader.

Ignihyde

The Ignihyde cupcake liner has the same black and blue geometric look as their dorm uniform jackets.

I don’t know how to really describe the font their names are written in, but the way the letters are cut reminds me of a “Greek” style of text (similar to this).

Their names seem to be displayed on Oreos chocolate sandwich cookies with Ignihyde blue fillings. Counting the parts (2 cookies, the cream filling), there’s three in total, which matches the count of the heads of Cerberus, as well as how many Shroud brothers there are.

Both Idia and Ortho have what look to be confetti cakes as the base for their cupcakes, Because of the dark color of the cake and the bright color of the sprinkles, it creates the impression of stars in the night sky—maybe to reference Star Rogue, their favorite video game.

Idia

The skull-shaped technomantic device Ida uses to launch his magic spells tops off his cupcake.

On either side of the skull device are candies (?) that look like the same light sticks Idia is super into waving around at his beloved idols’ concerts.

The blue frosting is meant to look like his fiery hair!

Idia’s cupcake goes from a red gradient to a blue one. His hair actually goes change color like this based (on his mood), We’ve seen his hair go from blue to red from anger and/or determination and passion in both book 7 and in his Dorm Uniform vignettes.

Ortho

This cupcake seems to represent both the deceased Ortho and the current android Ortho.

Not sure what it is, but there’s something with a cybernetic glowing design that implies a circuit board; this is part of the internal parts which make up robo!Ortho.

There’s some kind of sauce with sprinkles over the top of that layer; this could be the blot that makes up phantom!Ortho, since we usually don’t associate the “dripping” of the sauce with robo!Ortho.

The smaller dollop of blue frosting is Ortho’s fiery blue hair. He’s smaller and younger than Idia, so the flames do not consume the entire cupcake. (Alternatively, this could also be the fire-shaped bottle that serves as phantom!Ortho’s head.)

Under the frosting is a cookie and a thin ring which resembles the ring of glowing triangles that appears around robo!Ortho’s neck. A similar pattern appears around the neck of phantom!Ortho.

This cupcake’s cake is a lighter color than Idia’s cake. It also has a larger variety in the sprinkle colors, maybe as a nod to Ortho’s cheerier and more hopeful personality compared to Idia’s gloomier and pessimistic one.

Diasomnia

The Diasomnia cupcake liners are black with a green briar pattern.

Each student’s name is piped in chocolate, with the third years in white and the underclassmen in what seems to be milk chocolate.

The cupcakes seem to be malformed or sort of puffy like Kalim’s is. I wonder if that means Lilia roped all of his kids to bake with him as a bonding exercise www

Malleus

Malleus’s cupcake goes from Diasomnia green to black (the royal color of the Draconia bloodline), symbolizing the eventual transition he must make from student to king of his country.

The frosting on top is the same colors as he night sky sprinkled with silver stars. Malleus likes to take solitary strolls under the cover of night, so this suits him.

Malleus wouldn’t be Hornton/Tsunotaro without the horns! Of course we’ve gotta include a chocolate version of his iconic horns.

Extra frosting in a bright green; these are meant to be Malleus’s apocalyptic green fire that he spouts.

There’s a purple grape cut into two (I’m sure Rollo would be furious/j) to reveal the green insides. How curious! These colors are also considered accent colors for Maleficent. Another nice detail about the grapes is that the veining of the flesh makes the insides resemble reptilian eyes—like those of a dragon.

Lilia

The frosting is black for Lilia’s hair and has magenta (berry?) sauce to reflect his hair streaks.

Lots of berries (Lilia loves his berry juice) and irregular pink sprinkles or candy shards. It’s cute, punky, and whimsical, just like he is.

Chocolate bats for the bats that swarm Lilia in many animations. He’s also shown taking care of a bat in his Dorm Uniform vignettes.

I’ve been trying to figure out what the whole cream is… My best guess is they’re representing Malleus, Sebek, and Silver??? Silver and Sebek are the smaller two dollops since they grew up and trained together + are the most immature of the group. Malleus is the big, textured swirl on the left—he is older and more powerful than Sebek and Silver. This analogy also works when you consider that these three sit upon Lilia (the cupcake), who is the oldest and serves as the father figure and foundation for their dorm to get along with each other and with others.

I don’t know what that ahoge-like thing is supposed to be or mean—

Silver

His cupcake goes from a deep blonde/yellowish brown to silver. This reflects his hair color change following Lilia’s blessing.

Silver’s cupcake has a very dreamy and cloud-like quality to it because of the abundance of pastel-colored cream. The top of the frosting even droops over, sort of like a head dropping in sleep.

Crushed bits of an aurora-colored candy are sprinkled over the cake. They’re the same color as his eyes, as well as the ring gifted to him by his parents.

Two birds and some mint (?) leaves make up the colors of the Three Good Fairies (Flora, Fauna, and Merryweather). They also speak to Silver’s familiarity with the forest creatures.

Sebek

The pastel green frosting for Sebek’s cupcakes is sloped, and it is the only one styled this way. It may represent his lopsidedly views and understanding of the world, as he is easily one of the most rigid thinking within his dorm.

Many different things are sprinkles on the cupcake; it looks like someone threw them on thinking they would look cool with very little thought or planning. It fits how brazen Sebek is and also (funnily enough) matches his struggle with the arts.

Sebek is the only student with triangular sprinkles; is this meant to look like scales?? Or maybe particles of lighting?

There’s a massive chocolate lightning bolt topping off the cupcake. Nothing subtle or tactful about it, much like Sebek’s personality and voice.

There are two pieces of sliced grape to mimic Malleus’s cupcake. Interestingly, the grape halves seem to come from entirely different kinds of grapes: one green (unlike Malleus’s), the other red (like Malleus’s). Assuming the red half (which Malleus has two of) implies fae heritage (Malleus is full fae), then the green half is one’s human heritage. The grapes, then, denote Sebek being of half fae, half human descent.

Extra

Grim

He has a unique black and white vertically striped cupcake liner to represent Ramshackle dorm!

Grim’s name is written on a cookie that looks like a puffy manga text box. Makes sense, he’s usually being the mouth piece for Yuu when they don’t get dialogue options or even when they do.

Seems to be covered in sanding sugar to achieve the fuzzy texture of fur!

Little wafer (?) shaped like Grim’s tail! And cookies (?) iced to resemble his ears! Two paw prints 🥺 to match Grim’s toe beans… The cupcake truly is made in his image!!

The white shell border is probably a stand-in for the white tuft of fur that Grim has.

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst tsumtsums #twisted wonderland tsumtsums #twst tsumtsum #twisted wonderland tsumtsum #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #notes from the writing raven #twst analysis #twisted wonderland analysis #Heartslabyul #Grim #Savanaclaw #Octavinelle #Scarabia #Pomefiore #Ignihyde #Diasomnia

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misseviehyde · 9 months ago

Text

THE PASSENGER

Nervously biting her lip, Donna looked around the fetish store she had accidentally wandered into and desperately looked for the exit.

She didn't know what had drawn her into Evie's Emporium in the first place, but now she was inside she could see it wasn't her kind of shop at all. The small and mousy young woman blushed bright red as she walked past a rack of sex toys. She was famously insecure and easily embarrassed, so this shop was her idea of Hell.

She needed a dress to wear tonight for dinner with her boyfriends boss, but none of the tight latex and fetish outfits she could see hanging from racks would do. Everything in here looked like something some sort of super confident slut might wear, not her style at all.

Donna was tiny, flatchested and average looking. She had a very submissive personality - in fact her friends all mocked her for being such a pushover. They called her 'The Passenger' because she'd pretty much just go along with what anyone else wanted.

As she headed towards the exit she passed a rack with a naughty pink latex dress hanging from it. It was clearly designed for a tall, busty, dominating sort of woman. Donna's hands made contact with the material as she passed.

*ZAP*

Donna stopped. She urged her body to move, to keep walking, but to her horror it didn't seem to be responding to her commands. Instead her body was now moving by itself, like someone else was in control.

She felt herself pick up the latex dress and her body language instantly change. Her back straightened, her stride became more confident and unabashed. She felt herself walk over to the counter and buy the latex dress from the smirking blonde woman on the counter.

"You can get changed in the back if you want babe."

Donna walked to the dressing room at the back of the store. Keeping one hand on the dress, she struggled out of her clothing - even stripping off her underwear - then she began to clamber into the tight, stretchy pink latex.

"Ohhhh fuckkkk yesssss," she heard herself moan as her body throbbed with erotic energy. Donna's flat chest itched as she yanked the straps of the dress over her shoulders.

"Mmmmmmmh, bigger... yesssss, make them bigger," she heard herself say as her chest exploded with pleasure. With a delicious sensation of power and confidence, Donna felt her breasts grow. They swelled up, big firm and round on her chest - growing from A cups to DD's in a matter of seconds.

Her pale skin tanned to a healthy rosy glow and with a stretching sucking sound, the latex dress tightened deliciously around her body as her flat ass pushed out into a big round booty and she grew nearly six inches in height.

She was now an Amazoness and she looked almost unrecognisible as she shook her normally tightly bound hair loose and it fell into elegantly styled mane all the way down her back.

"Mmmmh, that's SO much better. I feel like a brand, new, bitch..."

Donna adjusted her dress, enjoying her new tits yet still not in control of her body. She was just a passenger in her own head. She felt herself apply more makeup and saw she now had long sexy pink acrylic nails the same colour as her dress. Her sensible flat shoes had transformed into six inch pink heels and with a clop, she turned on her stiletto's and easily walked out of the store with a strut.

****

Donna desperately tried to fight for control of her body, but it simply wouldn't obey her. Somehow, touching the dress had made her lose control to some alternative version of herself.

In her car, Donna hiked up her dress. She wasn't surprised to see her pussy was now completely waxed smooth and a pink princess butt plug the same colour as her dress now twinkled in her perfect ass.

"Fuck yessss," she hissed rubbing her clit and touching her breasts as she began to masturbate in the car-park. Reaching into her hand-bag, Donna found a small bullet vibrator and switching it to maximum, slid it into her pussy.

Then, with a wicked smile she pulled her dress down and already cumming, pushed the accelerator down and drove away.

In her own mind Donna screamed and drooled as wave after wave of pleasure crashed through her body and she orgasmed harder than she had in years...

***

The restaurant was busy and all eyes were magnetically drawn to Donna as she strode through to the table. She had bought a fur coat to wear over her sexy dress and expensive gold and diamond jewellery now hung round her pretty neck and on her slender wrists.

She looked amazing and her boyfriend George's mouth dropped open as his boss Damien stood up with a grin and kissed her hand.

"George, you never told me your girlfriend was so beautiful. She's... not... how you described her."

"D...Donna... h... how?" stammered George.

Ignoring him, Donna felt her body sit at the table and lean forward so her massive breasts were now prominently displayed. "I'd like Champagne to begin with baby, then I think the Lobster."

"B...but babe, they're the most expensive things on the menu."

"Exactly," purred Donna as she leant forward to give Damian a better view of her tits.

This was going to be fun.

***

The ladies bathroom was quiet except for the sucking sound coming from the stalls.

Damian groaned as Donna knelt before him, his big dick in her mouth. She sucked and slurped, her head moving back and forth as she used her slutty hands to massage his balls and the shaft of his cock.

In her head Donna felt shame, but also excitement. She should be appalled at betraying her lovely boyfriend, yet somehow even as a passenger she was loving every minute of this. Cucking her boyfriend was kind of hot, especially now she was such a hot bitch.

"Ohhhh fuck, George is gonna realise what we're up to if we're gone much longer..." gasped Damian.

"Mmmmh, fuck that loser," giggled Donna as she looked up at her new lover with glee. "He doesn't deserve me anyway. Let's sneak out of the back and go to a hotel. I wanna see what this cock can really do..."

Damian grinned and helped her up. "Fuck yessss."

***

Switching off her phone to ignore the increasingly desperate calls from George, Donna tossed it onto the floor and resumed her sucking.

Damian lay on the hotel bed, his huge cock now fully engorged as she sucked and slurped the length. Donna could feel her body moving by itself, she had never been this confident at sex, but now she was a Goddess.

"Are you ready baby?" she purred stradling him. Her dress was pulled down to reveal her massive tits and hiked up so her tight pussy was visible. Hovering over Damian's cock, she slowly lowered herself down and used her hands to guide Damian's big cock inside herself.

"FUCKKKKKK," she moaned happily. "You're so much bigger than that loser."

Grinding her hips and moaning, her big tits bouncing like a pornstar - Donna began to ride her lover. She had never felt so alive...

***

Donna opened her eyes and groaned. She lifted a hand to her face and then gasped. Her hand... it was obeying her.

Leaping to her feet, she looked around. She was in a hotel room. In the bed next to her lay Damian snoring and exhausted. The pink latex dress lay discarded on the floor. Her last memories had been of Damian tearing it off her body as he urgently thrust inside her and they both climaxed and passed out.

She looked down. Tiny tits, pale skin, normal body.

Oh God - what had she done?

Trembling she walked to the mirror and examined herself. No - she was definitely back to normal. The dress, it had turned her into a monster. A passenger in her own head. She had done such evil, slutty, bitchy things.

Mmmmmh and it had felt so fucking good.

Donna felt weak and unconfident. She was in control of her body again, but she realised how disapointing that was. She had enjoyed being strong, dominant and confident. She had enjoyed looking out through her own eyes whilst a more confident version of herself was in control.

She looked over at Damian. George was going to kill her. Their relationship was probably over. How was she going to handle this? She didn't know how.

Her eyes fell onto the pink dress.

Her pink dress...

***

Striding out of the hotel, an uncaring bitchy look on her face - Donna finished tying her sexy hair into a tight ponytail as she smoothed down her latex dress and revelled in the feeling of her powerful busty body.

Behind her eyes, Donna felt so happy. Her body knew exactly what it wanted and what to do. She would never need to think again, only enjoy the sensations of being a dominant bitch.

She was just the Passenger now and she fucking loved it.

THE END

#evie hyde #bitchification #f2f transformation #f2f corruption #magic dress #possession #passenger

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cyborg-franky · 2 years ago

Text

Shopping Trip With One Piece Characters

Part of a trade with the awesome @softcenteregg

Doffy - The very definition of “Get in loser, we’re going shopping!”

Has money but you will have to pay for him all day when it comes to lunch and drinks.

Will be sitting at a restaurant at 11 am with a cocktail as he tells you about his week, regardless of if you asked or not.

Checks out the mall hotties.

Laughs when people open push/pull doors wrong.

Always has a cocktail or a Starbucks clutched in one hand, waving his credit card around in the other hand.

Rude to salespeople.

You will be dragged through the mall for hours because he needs to go into every designer shop he can and try on at least seventeen pairs of $400 sunglasses or he’ll die.

Will be the most overdressed person in the area,

When your having lunch with him and he sees someone he doesn’t like, he will be like “Oh hey! Been so long since we hung out, should do it again soon!” then soon as they're gone he’s dishing the dirt.

Also, you will carry his bags, thx.

Roger

Makes you wish you could get those reigns for kids but in adult sizes.

In fact, the entire trip is like taking a child out for his birthday.

Ever seen a huge bearded man grinning in pure glee at the new limited edition Build a Bear products? Ever seen one make like 12?

Do yourself a favor and limit his booze and sugar intake.

Is confused he can’t do a pub crawl in a mall.

Buys alot of those ‘alcoholic chocolates’ by the box load in an attempt to get a nice buzz going.

Thrift shopping but he will try on everything he can.

Does not know how to dress but does it with style, oddly enough.

You won’t get a chance to sit down or rest unless it’s dinner time.

At least he’ll sleep well tonight.

Kid

Hit’s all the stores that sell music and band merch.

Will snort at people who buy things he doesn’t like.

Throws around words like ‘poser’ and judges everyone.

The kinda metal kid who hangs out at the mall with all the wallet chains looking like their parents grounded them, but in their late 20s.

Will spend hours looking for CDs and just say he’s too broke and he’ll download it online anyway.

Walks around the mall trying to find the right shade of lipstick with Killer, both their arms and hands are covered in testers before they both just get more black nail varnish and the same shade they always buy.

Has a reusable plastic cup that's full of jack and coke.

Taunts mall cops.

Killer

Imagine all of the above but he also spends alot of time looking at fancy new cook wear.

Will spend nothing on food all day but will drop $90 on a brand new crockpot or air fryer for the kitchen.

Very metal of him.

Thatch

Thatch is fun to go with.

Treats you, buys the coffee and lunch.

Is happy to do whatever you want as long as he gets to check out homeware sections while you look at your things.

You will never lose him behind shelves because you can always see his hair.

Like Jaws but with hair and ozone layer murdering levels of hairspray.

Will flirt with staff, will get talking to them for far too long, and hold up the line.

The type of person who has alot of change and makes it a personal challenge to count out change exactly.

Will carry your bags though, he’s a good boy.

Bit judgey on eatery places pastries.

Shanks

I hope you enjoy getting nowhere because when you're at a mall with Shanks or out and about in town you will be stopping every ten steps because someone recognises him and comes over and chats.

Has no concept of how long he’s been talking.

Is the type to have a pint with breakfast or brunch when you guys hang out.

Sale on ugly pants? He’d push you down to get there first.

Always texting the gang when he’s out.

Lol Benn guess what, I saw Buggy and he was with that guy, you know, the one with the hook, lol lol

Will drop Uta off at the mall kids' soft play area even though she’s 18 and still forget to pick her up before leaving.

Ace

Low key baits mall cops by loitering around and looking like an issue but has no intention of being an issue.

Might skateboard inside the mall.

Poses with ‘no skateboard’ signs.

Hopefully, there isn't an arcade in the mall because if you had any intention of getting things done today, that won’t happen now.

Hungry every 20 minutes and has to grab snacks.

100% the kinda friend/boyfriend who sits on the seats outside the changing rooms holding all the bags and groaning, acting like it’s the worst thing in the world.

Is one of those people who opens push/pull doors wrong.

Marco

After taking five minutes to park correctly he’s happy to go with the flow.

Likes to have a coffee and a people watch with you, chatty and social.

But he will drag you to shoe stores and you will be sat there for ages as he tries on every strappy sandal in the place, walking up and down and asking you what you think.

“I like this one but I don’t know if it makes me too tall yoi.” while you can’t for the life of you tell the difference between that pair and the last 40.

If you meet him at the mall he might be late, very much the shows up 20 minutes late with Starbucks.

Has a tendency to wander off in shops and you spend half your time looking for him.

Doesn’t give a warning when entering a shop if something shiny caught his bird brain.

Benn

He hates the mall.

Imagine a dad who has to take his teenage daughter clothes shopping and that’d basically be him with Shanks.

Benn is a very ‘I know what I am here for’ in and out kind of person but he doesn’t mind going to other places with you.

Ignores staff-only signs when he knows there is a smoking area on the other side of that door.

Is the person to remind you of the ‘insert thing here we have at home’ and is a shop sensible person, though he won't say anything if you do buy another T-shirt that looks exactly like the one you already have.

Pretends to be annoyed at carrying the shopping, but he offered and he likes to help you out.

If you complain about your feet hurting he’ll helpfully tell you he told you to wear your other shoes.

Sabo and Luffy

Banned

Both have their pictures up in the security office.

Sabo for giving the mall cops the finger, graffiti, and shoplifting.

Luffy peed in the fountain and kept stealing pick-n-mix.

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talesfromthesnogbox · 7 months ago

Text

I Want Your Video

Summary: Henry is roped into getting off on camera, the Hysterical Literature AU nobody asked for.

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 8,815

AO3 Link

----------

“Pez…”

“Hazza! Come on, you’d be doing me a huge favour.”

Henry rolled his eyes. He loved his best friend Percy, he really did, but he had a knack for getting Henry to do things he would normally never do. And this… this, was something he’d never thought about doing, ever.

“Pez, I’ve got an actual following now. Don’t you think this is a little…”

“No! This is perfect for you. And with your next book coming soon too, trust me Henry, this will be great, you’ll be great."

See, Henry was a writer, just… not a very successful one. Until recently. His debut novel How to Steal a Heart didn’t do as well as he’d hoped when he upended his life and moved from London to Brooklyn. Broke from trying to market his book, and determined to not accept defeat, he took a job with his publisher, where he’d then become friends with one of the lawyers on staff, one Alex Claremont-Diaz. Unfortunately for Henry, Alex was so so much like Gabriel, the love interest to James in Henry’s novel. It was like he’d shook the book and watched Alex step out as he got to know the other man, and in his opinion, his perfect man.

How to Steal a Heart wasn’t the Pride & Prejudice Henry had hoped to one day write, but it was his first novel, and absolutely his baby. Three years sitting on the shelves with hardly any sales had Henry close to throwing in the towel. Alex encouraged him to keep writing, even if only for himself, but it was hard for him to find motivation to continue. It was only weeks later that Alex would send him the TikTok that would change his life. The book blew up, Henry started getting recognized on the street, the interviews poured in, and suddenly, he was signing for books two and three with his publisher.

And Pez, his best friend, wanted him to do porn.

“I know what’s going through your head, young man. The video isn’t porn, it’s an artistic statement on human sexuality.”

“Pez. You want me to sit on camera and read a book while someone tugs me off, it’s porn.” Henry played with his signet ring, refusing to meet Pez’s eyes.

“No one will be touching you, dear. It’s all remote control based, and very safe and respectful. I would keep my spot on the team but you know I’ve got to go back to London to see my dear Granny. Please Hazza?”

Henry rolled his eyes. “How many people are in the room with me? And do I have to get Shaan to sign off on anything?”

Pez’s excitable gasp put a smile on Henry’s face. “Oh my god you’re a lifesaver! I’ll send the documents over for him to glance at. The shoot is on Saturday morning, wear what you like, you’re still gonna be clothed above the waist. Just one person of your choosing in the room to start and stop the camera, or none if you like! I’ll drop off the goods at your office on Friday before I leave.”

By the time Friday rolled around, Henry had almost forgotten what he’d agreed to. Almost. Pez flew through his office like a tornado, giving him advice on what to wear, how to style his hair, and finally, dropping off what he came for.

“Brand spanking new, and yours to keep after the shoot, you’re welcome. I’ve got one like that too and… you are very welcome.” Henry grimaced. “I’m sure you two will have a lot of fun.”

“Everything I’ve learned about your sex life has been against my will.” Henry inspected the box Pez gave him. The packaging was nice, sturdy, expensive feeling.

“Well I happen to know you’re more of a size queen than I am, so lube up friend, there’s some in the box.”

His face scrunched in disgust as he reminded himself to never tell Pez anything ever again.

“Right, thanks for that then I suppose. Anything else I should know about—”

A knock and a mass of dark, curly hair interrupted his train of thought. Alex.

“Shit sorry, didn’t know you had company.”

Henry scrambled to hide the box Pez had dropped off, eyebrows shooting into his hairline as Pez shot him a look. “Not to worry dear, Auntie Pezza has a flight to catch. See you later boys, oh and Henry, tell me how it goes?”

Henry nodded at his friend, waving him off. “Safe travels, all the rest. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

Alex turned to Henry, a question gleaming in his eyes. “Hot date later?”

His eyebrows shot up into his hairline as Henry puffed out a breath. “No, no not quite.”

“Excellent. So you’ll be around tomorrow afternoon then?” Alex looked almost hopeful.

Henry winced. “Also not quite, no. Tomorrow night maybe?” He knew he’d probably be keyed up and feeling slightly self conscious after the shoot, drinks with his other best friend slash office crush would definitely keep his mind occupied.

Alex shrugged. “Sure, I can make that work. Want to try that new place in Greenwich?” He flashed his million dollar smile at Henry, the one that never failed to make him melt.

He’s straight, he’s straight, he’s straight!

“Sounds lovely. I’ll swing by yours around 7 and we can come up together?”

“Sure thing, sweetheart.” Alex gestured to the mound of papers on Henry’s desk, covering the unopened toy box. “So whatcha hiding in there?”

Henry’s breath hitched. “Oh—um well you see…” He stroked his chin, a faraway look taking over his features. “Well you know Pez fairly well I guess. He’s talked me into… helping out one of his friends while he’s gone with an… art… thing…”

Alex’s dark brow furrowed, he nodded along knowing he probably wouldn’t get anything more from the blond man. “Right. And I’m assuming the art… thing is tomorrow afternoon?”

He nodded, clicking his tongue. “Shouldn’t take long—well… ah—I um—” Henry stumbled on his words. “Yeah. I’ve gotta be ready for two.”

“Cool. Do I get to know what it is?”

Henry’s internal monologue had just become various screams. “Ah, um maybe I’ll tell you about it sometime once it’s done and I’ve consumed a lot of alcohol.”

Alex smirked. “Is that a challenge?”

He let out an incredulous laugh. “Git!”

“I’ll see you tomorrow, I want those dirty details, Fox.”

Henry blushed. “You have no idea what you’re asking for Alex.”

---

The time had come for Henry to be on camera, and in all fairness to Pez, everyone so far had been really lovely. Sophie, the eager intern, had him checked in with paperwork and release forms signed, and Theo, the director of the project, walked him through the afternoon’s timeline.

“So we’ll start with a short interview, just to get a sense of who you are, a bit of your background and what you do, then we’ll take a short break to get you prepped, and from there it’s go time. I’m assuming Pez dropped off the vibrator?” Henry nodded, taking in the information in stride as he remembered what he was there to actually do. “Great. I’ll be in the other room controlling the remote for you, so you don’t have to do anything but look pretty and read. Any questions?”

“Yeah, where… um—” Henry had taken some time earlier to stretch himself out a bit in preparation, but the toy was still firmly nestled in its box. Luckily the project was fairly portable, and the small crew had invaded his new apartment.

“Where can you get yourself ready?” His place was bigger than his last shoebox, but still small enough to feel self conscious about inserting the plug knowing there were people in the room over. It had been years since he’d had roommates, and he wasn’t used to having to monitor his noise levels. “We’re setting up in the office so it’s up to you, whether you’d prefer your bedroom or bathroom, we’ll keep crew away from there.” Henry nodded in acknowledgement. “I know this is intimidating, but say the word and we stop, you know that, right?”

He let out a sigh of relief, a smile crossing his face. “Thank you. I’m okay, just a little nervous is all. I’m not unaccustomed to strangers watching me finish,” he shot Theo a look, hoping he understood he was talking about random hookups, “but I’ve never done anything on camera before.”

“Totally fine, don’t even think of it that way, you’re just reading a book!”

He smiled and followed him into the office for the interview portion of the video.

Once he was mic’d up and properly lit, Theo started with the questions.

“Why don’t you introduce yourself a bit, tell us who you are and what you’ll be reading today.”

A warm smile crossed Henry’s face. “Hi, I’m Henry Fox, and I’m a writer. Originally hailing from London, I moved to New York with my best friend Pez to be closer to my publisher. My book How to Steal a Heart recently became popular on BookTok, and has been in the top five on the New York Times bestsellers list for twenty weeks in a row. It follows a young prince named James who goes undercover as a commoner weeks before his wedding to Lady Elizabeth. James meets Gabriel, a Spanish traveller, who’s been sent to England to steal a precious jewel from the royal family, but instead steals James’ heart.” He looks down at his desk, stroking the spine of the book. “I poured my heart and soul into this book, and it’s incredibly touching to hear how much everyone else has loved it too. But I won’t be reading this today.”

Henry picked up the other book on his desk, a well loved copy of a Regency era romance, two handsome men on the cover. “The Servant and the Gentleman by Annabelle Greene. These have kind of become my guilty pleasure read when I’m not in the headspace for something like Pride & Prejudice. There’s something romantic and sexy about the Regency era, when a simple brush of fingers can cause an audience to gasp. Of course this one is a lot, erm, smuttier than Austen’s work, but it’s a work I’ve returned to a few times.” He looks up at Theo, who’s leaning against the doorframe with a smile.

“Great! You’re a natural on camera, Henry.” Theo leads the excess crew out of the room in preparation for the next stage. He hands him a bath robe and walks him to his bedroom. “We’re going to fix up the desk a little bit, throw a sheet over it so your lower half is covered. We tested the remote already, so you just need to worry about you, okay?”

Henry nodded in understanding, taking the box from Sophie the intern, and closing his door. The nerves had begun to settle in as he unboxed the black, silicone plug. It felt nice, soft and lightweight, the small light indicating it was already on but the motor not started. He gave it a wash, letting it air dry on a clean towel as he stepped out of his trousers and briefs. His heart pounded as he poured a bit of lube on his fingers and got to work opening himself up.

A short few minutes later, he was able to slip the the toy in. Henry groaned, his cock finally warming up to the idea of what he was about to do. Taking a deep breath, he donned the robe Theo had given him, and walked out into the office.

Henry knew realistically this wasn’t the first video the crew had done. Pez mentioned they were filming twelve over the course of a few weeks, and his had been near the end, but he was fairly surprised by the professionalism of it all. He settled into his chair, a towel already laid down, and sheet covering his legs from the room, and dropped the robe. His breath hitched as the plug nudged his prostate; they hadn’t even started filming and he already knew he was fucked.

“Alright. If we’re ready to go, I’ll just give you a bit of a run down. We’ll hit record on the camera and get out of your way, I’ve got headphones so I can monitor what you’re saying. You’ll start by introducing yourself and the book you’re reading, once you’ve finished, state your name once more and the title of the book. We’ll wait outside until you’re ready for us to come back in. I’ll control the remote from this side of the door. If ever it gets too intense or you don’t want to continue, please just yell for one of the crew and we stop. You understand so far?”

Henry nodded.

“Verbal consent please hon, things can get pretty intense and I want to make sure you’re okay.”

Henry smiled. “Yes, thank you Theo, I understand.”

He gave a quick nod and continued. “Don’t worry about holding back, noises, faces, words are all good, but please don’t feel the need to put on a show. I want you to be authentic in yourself, show us what your pleasure looks like. It’s a beautiful thing, it’s poetic, it’s art. Last thing, don’t worry about how long or short you last here. We’ve had a few people last a couple paragraphs, and one last a couple chapters. Take what you need.”

“Got it. I—I think I’m ready.”

Theo smiled. “Good, we’re ready on our end as well. I’ll hit record, and as soon as I’m out the door, you can start.”

Henry nodded one last time, wriggling in his chair and turning to the chapter. Theo gave him a thumbs up, and closed the door, leaving him alone. He took a deep breath, and stared down the barrel of the lens. “Hi, I’m Henry Fox, and today I’ll be reading The Servant and The Gentleman by Annabelle Greene.”

He cleared his throat, eyes scanning the page before he started. “Chapter ten. One bed. A very large bed, a mahogany four-poster that took up most of the sloping attic room, but still a bed in the singular rather than plural. Josiah sat awkwardly on one corner of it, the feathers in the mattress astonishingly soft.”

Henry’s fingers twitched in anticipation, his pulse quickening; the wait for the vibrations to start was almost agonizing, and his cock thickened as the wait for pleasure stretched on. He could begin to understand why this was so erotic. He was alone so the pleasure felt like it was all his, but in reality, someone on the other side of that door held the key to his undoing.

He continued the chapter, getting accustomed to the way his voice sounded in the room alone, when he jolted as a low thrumming vibration started. “He’d noticed, then. He’d seen what Josiah had secretly h-hoped he would. Josiah took a step towards Hartley, seized with a sudden, overwhelming desire to k-kiss him.” Henry stumbled over the words, taking deep breaths as he tried to read in earnest. He shifted in his seat, hoping to take some pressure away, but the new angle had the bulbous head of the plug settle right up against his prostate. Almost like clockwork, the vibrations levelled up.

His words became breathy, and he gulped in air, trying to hold back the whines he desperately wanted to let go, but he kept reading. “He held his breath as Mr. Balfour moved closer. Close enough to press against him, chest to chest, thigh to thigh. Hartley sighed, a deep shiver running through him as he looked into the man’s warm brown eyes—Oh!” Henry dropped the book from his left hand, his palm coming flat to the table as he tilted his head down and closed his eyes in pleasure. He bit his lip, and scrunched his nose, resisting the urge to roll his hips. His cock was now fully interested in what was happening, he was half hard, and so badly wanted to wrap his hand around his length. But with a low chuckle, he returned both hands to the book and continued reading.

“He couldn’t even think of him as Mr. Balfour anymore.” Henry composed himself, getting accustomed to the new speed of the toy. “Not in this naked, vulnerable light. Master, servant, Mr. Hartley, Mr. Balfour; no rank, no polite form of address, quite held up to scrutiny. Not here. Not now.” He gasped, gripping the book with white knuckled fingers, and let the air out with a hum through closed lips. “Fuckin’ hell that’s… wow.” With a shake of his head, he read on.

“The man in front of him was Josiah. As for himself, he was no one, no one at all. Just a terrified creature in desperate need of relief, of fulfilment that only Josiah could provide.” His voice was shaky, and his knee bounced under the table. “Hartley stared, briefly shocked at the idea of it, before Josiah’s lips met his, and thoughts were suddenly, deliciously drowned in f—uuuuck.” Henry threw his head back, chest heaving as he finally gave into his instincts and let his hips roll. With every rock of his hips, the plug pushed against his prostate, sending jolts of pleasure through his body. His cock leaked a steady stream of precum, and his fingers itched to grasp himself, spread his wetness down his length, pump into his fist, with a name on his lips. And suddenly he remembered where he was again. “Deliciously drowned in feeling.”

“There was no room anymore. No door, no walls, no confinement whatsoever. With J-Josiah’s kiss came infinite sp—infinite space; a liberation so complete that H-Hartley couldn’t help but sigh with relief.” His fingers shook as he traced the words, and suddenly, that telltale tingle at the base of his spine started. “O—oh f—fuck.” He moaned in earnest, the dam breaking now as he writhed in his seat. “He—unnhh!” Henry slammed his palm down against the desk again, shoulders hunching forwards as his hand curled. He was close, but it wasn’t enough. If he could only get a hand around himself…

Henry panted lowly, not sure if it was deemed appropriate to ask to go up in speed, but as if his mind had been read, the vibrations kicked it up a notch. The book was long forgotten, his eyes were closed, and he was sure his face was a picture of pleasure. A second jolt of pleasure railed through him as the piece of the toy wedged against his perineum sparked to life. His cock leaked steadily now, he shook as he reached back to grip the edge of the chair, a strangled cry leaving his throat. His other hand slammed against the table, losing his page in the book entirely. His hips rocked against the chair and he whimpered. ��Ffffuck, f—fuck, A—Ale…. christ.” He choked in a breath, back going taut as his hips stuttered, and with a shout, he came.

His ass clenched around the plug as he painted the towel draped across his lap. The shocks kept coming, he felt like it would never end, like he never wanted it to end, it was fucking good. An airy giggle left his lips as his head lolled back, the aftershocks of his orgasm wracking through him, milking the plug he had absolutely no control over. Henry kind of felt invincible, like he could do it again, and again, and again, until his body could give nothing else. He’d never came so hard, not even with the best fuck he’d had, and in that moment he knew, he’d put on a damn good show.

The camera crew must have heard him coming down, because the vibrations stopped shortly after he’d caught his breath. Henry chuckled and shook his head, breathing in once, twice, then looking right down the barrel of the lens again and saying, “My name is Henry Fox, and I’ve just read The Servant and The Gentleman by Annabelle Greene.”

He blinked once, twice, giving Theo enough room to cut the end of his shot, then he moved to clean himself up. Wiping himself down brought the sudden realization that this was going to be online… and then it dawned on him… what if Alex saw this?

---

Henry wrung his hands together as he met up with Alex for their dinner in Greenwich. He was still keyed up despite the satiated feeling that took over his body as soon as Theo and his crew left that afternoon; it was a different type of intensity, the anticipation of knowing Alex could find out at any point what he was doing that afternoon. And of course, the anxiety of knowing he’d pretty well shouted Alex’s name as he came.

“Henry… hey, are you… are you there man?”

Henry blinked at Alex, shaking his head slightly pulling himself out of his thoughts. “Yes, yes sorry. You were saying?”

Alex stopped, pulling Henry to the edge of the sidewalk when he’d earned a grumble under their breath from a passing pedestrian. “Are you okay? You seem off. Did something happen?”

“What? No, I’m fine! I’m fine.”

Alex cocked his head to the side and raised an eyebrow. “You sure about that? You’ve been quiet since you came to get me.”

A smile graced Henry’s face finally, hopefully levelling out some of Alex’s concern. “Yes, I’m sure, I’m fine. I think this afternoon was just a little more… intense than I was anticipating.”

“Oh yeah!” Alex lit up once more, guiding Henry back onto the sidewalk towards their destination. “How’d your art thing go?”

Henry held back the urge to laugh. What did he even say to that? It was incredible? The best orgasm he’d ever had? Oh, I came so hard my brain leaked out my ears, and you can watch it all in dazzling 4K, coming soon to a youtube channel near you. Don’t get freaked out if you maybe hear your name towards the end, I definitely wasn’t thinking of you railing me into next week.

“It was good, the people were nice.”

Alex shot him a look. “That’s it? You ever gonna tell me what it was about? Oh! Or will I maybe see it down the line?” A high pitched giggle left Henry’s mouth. “What’s that supposed to mean? My god, did you like pose nude or something?”

Henry tilted his head side to side, face scrunched. “Or something.”

“What!” Alex grabbed Henry’s forearm, shooting heat through him and making him blush. That beautiful smile graced his features, deviant and excitable, making him feel oddly supported. “Oh my god Henry, did you do a boudoir shoot? This whole time I thought you were a prude, have you been holding out on me?”

Henry scoffed. “You’ve read my book, you know I’m not a prude.”

“I thought we were friends, would you just tell me already? It’s killing me here man!”

“Maybe in time. And with a lot of alcohol, remember? Just… drop it for tonight, please?”

Alex rolled his eyes. “Fine. I’ll drop it. But when you do finally tell me what it was, I wanna see it!”

Henry’s heart skipped a beat. “Absolutely not.”

---

irl chaos demon

[10:15 p.m.] Dude, have you seen this?

Alex swiped away Nora’s text, knowing it was probably some TikTok trend, and he was not willing to start on that rabbit hole tonight.

irl chaos demon

[10:18 p.m.] I just finished watching it and… I think you’ll want to see this 👀

He eyed the message carefully before finally clicking on the notification and seeing the youtube link she’d sent him. Intimate Words: Session Ten: Henry.

Oh?

The thumbnail was vague. Alex recognized the background to be Henry’s apartment office space, with the wall of books behind him. He was seated at his desk, a book open in front of him, as he smiled softly into the camera. His hair wasn’t messy, but it wasn’t slicked back into his usual perfect coif. Alex imagined this softer, more undone version of Henry was one reserved for the comforts of his own home when he shared it with someone more… well intimately. He clicked through to the video, a short logo stinger introducing it, and oh! This must have been the art thing he was doing those few weeks ago!

Alex paused the video, considering the idea of texting Henry to let him know he would be watching… but then remembered how skittish he’d been about it. He’d gotten the impression that Henry didn’t want Alex watching this. The description was about as vague as the thumbnail, it read ‘Author Henry Fox reads from The Servant and The Gentleman by Annabelle Greene. Directed by Theo Lawson’

It seemed straightforward enough, just Henry reading a book… so then why was he so embarrassed about it?

Alex did the only thing he could think to do at that moment. He called June.

“Hey Lil Bit, what’s up?”

“Did Nora show you a video of Henry?”

June scoffed. “Yeah, she did. I didn’t watch it all the way through cause he’s like my less annoying non-biological brother and that would be weird, but…”

“Why didn’t you finish the video? She said I’ll want to see it, but it didn’t sound like Henry wanted me to see it.”

June went silent.

“Bug, what’s up with this fucking video?”

“Alejandro!” Nora joined the call, sitting beside June. “To what do we owe the pleasure, we just got into bed.”

“Gross. Nora what’s with the link?”

“Ooooooh! Did you watch it? Hot, right?”

It was Alex’s turn to be silent.

“Oooohhhkay, I’m going to guess from your lack of response you either didn’t watch it, or are currently questioning your sexuality.”

“Nora, why the fuck would this video make me question my sexuality?”

Nora chuckled. “So you really didn’t watch it, huh. Have you actually not heard about this project?”

“Clearly I haven’t.” Alex went right to Google. The Intimate Words project. He clicked on the first link to the official site and read through the description, eyes going wide. “Nora… did Henry… sorry explain this to me like I’m five. What am I looking at?”

“Henry read a book on camera while getting some good vibrations, pun intended, as an artistic statement in favour of normalizing what pleasure looks like on different people.”

Alex took a deep breath. “Okay. Okay. Soooo, should I watch it?”

“I dunno Alex, should you?”

“I mean do I want to watch it?”

Her voice went softer. “I can’t answer that Alejandro, do you want to watch it?”

Alex dropped his hand, looking at the video thumbnail again. Henry’s soft smile stared back, warm and inviting, and for a moment, a flutter erupted in his chest. He was straight. He was straight? At least he was pretty sure he was straight… Was he?

His head spun as he thought back to every interaction he’d had with Henry since meeting him. They riffed off each other perfectly, best buds, a good pal, but… but Alex was disappointed whenever Henry would cancel plans, and everything felt better, brighter, when Henry was around.

A few minutes of comfortable silence had passed. “Nora? I’m gonna go.”

“You okay Lil Bit?” This time it was June that chimed in.

“Yeah, I’m good, well, we’ll see how I’m feeling in a bit I guess.”

“Call me when you’re done!” Nora shouted over the phone.

“Ew, that’s my brother, asshole.”

Alex hung up before their fighting turned into something he wouldn’t be able to un-hear, and clicked on the video. His heart was thrumming in his chest as Henry’s smooth voice rang through his bedroom, and he began reading.

It was only a minute or so into the video, but nothing out of the ordinary had happened. It was just Henry, he was just reading, and maybe it wouldn’t be that bad. He was twitchier than usual, but Alex figured it had to do with the nature of the video he was performing in. Henry didn’t seem like the type of person to do anything like this. Admittedly, Alex didn’t know really much about Henry’s dating life, he tended to keep pretty quiet about it at work or otherwise, but apparently he was more adventurous than Alex thought him to be.

But then came the stuttering.

And Alex’s body finally caught up with what his brain knew he was watching.

From the first breathy gasp Henry let out, Alex knew the answer to the question he’d had in his mind since the phone call with Nora. It was a clear and resounding no.

He watched as Henry bit his full bottom lip, a stream of little noises spilling from between his teeth. Alex could see the way his fingers trembled against the desk, like Henry was unable to control the way they spasmed as he let what clearly was a magnificent feeling wash over him. He wasn’t entirely sure just what was being used on Henry, but his mind ran rampant with ideas, and it took less than a minute for his own cock to stir in his joggers.

Alright, guess we’re doing this.

Henry’s voice shook deliciously as he continued to read, and for a moment, Alex thought about having him read aloud while Henry rode his cock. He groaned at the idea, which apparently Henry from the video could tell. “Fuckin’ hell that’s… wow.”

The surprise from his lips was almost endearing, no, adorable, but only for another minute because shortly after Henry let out a downright filthy string of expletives.

“Fuck baby.” Alex groaned, watching Henry grind away on his desk chair. He wanted to mark up that perfect neck, suck bruises wherever he could, nip away at those sinful collarbones… he wanted to be the one making Henry feel like that.

Henry’s composure was waining, and so was Alex’s as his fingers twitched, itching to get a hand on himself. He could see the moment Henry gave up on the task at hand and focused purely on his pleasure, chasing what he needed, and good god, it was the hottest fucking thing Alex had seen in his thirty years of life. Better than anything he’d read, anything he’d seen, porn or otherwise, this video would ruin anyone else for him. Henry would ruin anyone else for him. His eyes were glued to the screen, he didn’t even want to blink in case he missed anything, and… was that his name?

Alex scrubbed backwards, hitting play and listening carefully and… “Ffffuck, f—fuck, A—Ale…. christ.”

He paused the video, the pleasure on Henry’s face frozen in time, the pleasure he’d gotten seconds after saying his name. Alex.

Alex opened his messages and texted Nora back.

TO: irl chaos demon

[10:58 p.m.] We’re talking about this tomorrow.

Tomorrow. Not tonight, tomorrow. Tonight Alex was preoccupied.

The sexuality crisis could wait. The imagery of Henry getting off with his name on his lips was past the point of sending Alex into a spiral, and right to him being horny about it. He pulled his half hard cock out of his joggers, not even bothering with pushing them down knowing this would be quick. A few tugs with his hand had him throbbing and leaking over his knuckles. He closed his eyes, the memory of Henry’s breathy whimpers racing through his mind. A bite of his lip and a throaty groan of his own, and quickly, Alex was spilling over his fingers, making a mess of his hand and the waistband of his joggers.

He only allowed himself a moment of contemplation before he was wiping his hand off on his bottoms, they’d have to be washed anyways, and going to brush his teeth.

As he stared at his reflection, hair tousled, cheeks flushed, Alex did what he did in every crisis. He made a list.

That video of Henry turned him on.

Nora thought he’d want to see the video, and he did.

If he was being honest, that wasn’t the first time he’d had some kind of… feeling like that for a man.

On some level, he knew that he had to be somewhat into Henry

That video of Henry really fucking turned him on.

With a sigh, Alex contemplated what this meant for him. There was no problem with him accepting the fact that he was low-key into guys. If anything, it opened up the dating pool for him… but he had a feeling he didn’t really want the dating pool to be opened past… well… Henry. He’d never really given a thought to his sexuality. Yeah, he liked women, he was confident in that for sure, but he’d never really thought about dating men until Henry.

By this point it was nearly midnight, and Alex’s head was spinning. He texted the group chat with Nora and June suggesting brunch in the morning and crawled into bed, hoping some clarity would come with sleep. That night he dreamt of Henry.

---

Brunch the next morning was… eventful to say the least. There was a lot of teasing on Nora’s part, and Alex spent the whole meal red (and not from the effects of bottomless mimosas). After much contemplation, and a chat with both Nora and June, Alex came to the conclusion that he was bisexual.

The more he said it, the more he felt like it really fit, and by the end of the weekend, Alex was feeling more confident about himself than he had felt in a while.

Monday morning at the office felt a little bit brighter, there was a spring in his step and for once he actually felt relaxed after a weekend off. That is until he opened his calendar and remembered that he agreed to lunch with Henry today.

“Alex, good morning.”

Speak of the devil.

“H-hey man, how was your weekend?” Alex picked up his coffee, blowing away the steam before taking a sip.

“It was nice, got a lot of writing done actually. I have another meeting this morning about my latest draft, but it’s all been pretty ‘good vibes’ so far with this book.”

Alex choked on his coffee, his nose burning from the hot liquid suddenly entering his airway.

“Oh god, are you alright?”

Alex nodded frantically, reaching for some tissues to wipe down the mess. “Fine, fine sorry, went down the wrong pipe there.”

Henry chuckled. “Just learning to swallow?”

“Something like that.”

Henry’s eyebrows rose, oh god, Alex thought, am I actually successfully flirting with Henry?

“So lunch. Spencer and Zarah can’t make it today, I think it’s just gonna be us two. I was hoping to maybe check out that new Thai place?”

Alex blinked slowly. Lunch alone with Henry sounded dangerous, but it would be suspicious if he also randomly bailed. “Yeah, sounds great. I’ll meet you at the elevator at 1?”

Henry smiled warmly and nodded. “See you then!” He looked back and waved once he’d walked away, and Instantly Alex knew he was screwed.

The morning stretched on as Alex waited for the clock to strike 1. Henry looked so good today in a soft sweater, the collar of his shirt peeking through, and his hair just a little bit undone. His heart fluttered anxiously as he watched the clock, not even knowing what the hell he even did that morning, and then finally, it was time. Alex grabbed his wallet and phone, forcing himself to walk, not run, to the elevators where Henry was waiting. Unfortunately for him, the sight of Henry made him lose every coherent thought he’d had until that point.

They rode the elevator down in complete silence, Alex worrying the entire time about what they’d talk about once they were seated. Henry luckily filled the silence with updates on his meeting, prattling on about the book and the notes he was getting from his editor.

The restaurant was a short walk away, and by the time they were seated, Henry had already recounted all the important bits of his meeting. They read through the menus, Henry glancing up to Alex every once in a while, and glancing back down with a blush when Alex caught his eye. Neither conversed with each other, even after the waiter took their orders and filled their water glasses.

Alex could feel the tension between them. He was making it weird, but all he could see right now was Henry seated across from him, writhing in pleasure instead of the put together slightly stuffy persona he kept up during working hours. From spending the weekend fantasizing about him, to sitting across from him at lunch was a very strange dichotomy, and suddenly Alex was having a hard time separating the two Henry’s in his mind. Was it getting hot in here?

“Alright, what’s bothering you? I’ve literally never seen you this quiet.”

Alex’s eyes went wide, his mouth gaped like a fish… he had absolutely no idea what to say. Does he just come clean? Tell Henry everything that had transpired over the weekend? Or does he lie and say he’s fine, just under the weather? Henry could usually read him like an open book, no matter what he says, he’d know Alex was lying. So all that he could come up with was, “I’m bisexual.”

Henry raised his eyebrows. He could tell that wasn’t what Alex had intended to say based on the slight wince that followed his short and succinct coming out.

“Sorry… that—I-I didn’t—”

“Alex.” Henry reached across the table and laid his hand on top of Alex’s lightly. Alex’s brain promptly shuts down. “Thank you for telling me.”

He nods, eyes focused on their hands. “Yeah, ‘course, you’re my best friend, Hen.”

Henry smiled bashfully and pulled his hand away, taking a sip of water. “I’m not the first person you told, am I?”

Alex laughed, feeling a lot more himself now that Henry was guiding their conversation. “No, Nora and June kinda walked me through a sexuality crisis over the weekend.” Shit!

Intrigued, Henry raised his eyebrow. “Oh?”

Again, Alex started feeling hot under the collar, his smile dropped.

“Someone catch your interest?”

“Ah… um…” Alex winced. “Something like that.”

Henry nodded, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. “Do I know him?”

Alex froze. He felt himself coming to a crossroad; he could laugh off the whole thing and say it was some actor in some new movie, typical bullshit, or he could come clean. Coming clean would obviously be the harder road… but would it? It would mean he wouldn’t have to dance around Henry like he had all day, maybe he could stop picturing his face masked in pleasure whenever he threw his head back in a laugh, and maybe, just maybe, it could mean Henry felt that way about him too.

Decision made, Alex begun to nod. “Yeah, actually, you do.” He played with the beads of his bracelet, a nervous habit he’d picked up, and braced himself. “Henry, I-I saw your video.”

Video… my vid—oh dear lord. Henry felt a hundred different emotions wash through him, confusion, fear, and embarrassment being the main features. “Oh god.”

“I—I think it was—”

Henry put a hand up, effectively stopping Alex from saying anything further. “I’m sorry I just… I’d really like for you to not finish that sentence.” He remembered the end of that video A—Ale…. christ… and let out a deep sigh. “Oh god.”

“Hen—”

“I… sorry I’ve got a meeting to get to.”

---

“Fuck, Pez. Fuck.”

“Hazza, I’m failing to see how this is a bad thing.”

Henry let his head fall to his desk with a thunk. “I said his fucking name Percy.”

Pez laughed on the other end of the phone. “Oh I know darling, I was a little offended it wasn’t my name on your lips, but this was a long time coming to be honest.”

“Pez.” Henry pleaded. “Please.”

“Alright, alright, I’ll behave. But I stand by what I said, I’m failing to see how this is bad for you. The man basically said you were his bisexual awakening, why are you on the phone with me instead of getting railed by—”

“Because! I don’t think I’m strong enough to only be with him casually. With him, it has to be all or nothing.”

He can hear Pez snort on, the tinny effect of his phone speaker doing nothing to hide the snark. “Okay, so go all in then.”

“But what if—”

“Babes, all I’m hearing are excuses. Why don’t you just talk to him? He’s obviously into you in some way, or he wouldn’t have even said anything about the video.”

“But I don’t know if he even had positive thoughts about the video, I left before he could say anything about it. What if he’s totally disgusted?”

“You’re not considering the facts though love, he said someone caught his interest, and—shush! Let me finish! Someone caught his interest and then he mentioned seeing you in that video. Sorry Hen but it sounds like you’re incorrect here.”

Unfortunately it did sound like Pez had a point. There was nothing really left to say, Henry had to admit defeat.

“Hazza, just talk to him. Please. I can feel your gay panic all the way in bloody London. I think you’ll be surprised by what he has to say.”

“Fine, fine. I’ll text him. To meet up and talk tonight. Or something.”

“Yes! That’s the spirit! Let me know how it goes mate.”

Henry watched the call disappear from his screen to find he’d already received a text from Alex.

Alex

[2:15 p.m.] Hey man, I’m sorry I made you uncomfortable earlier, it really wasn’t my intention, I hope you know that.

He worried the skin of his lip, crafting a response that would have him on edge all day.

TO: Alex

[3:05 p.m.] Hi Alex, I understand that wasn’t your intention, you didn’t make me uncomfortable, I was just startled.

[3:06 p.m.] Can we talk later today? I’d like the opportunity to maybe clear the air a little bit between us.

Alex

[3:07 p.m.] Oh thank god you’re alive

[3:07 p.m.] Yeah, wanna come to mine after work?

TO: Alex

[3:08 p.m.] Yes I’ll swing by yours after I let David out for a walk.

---

He was stalling. Henry knew he was stalling, and he didn’t care, he did not want to face this head on, but he knew he had to.

After a moment outside, Henry knew he had to face Alex, and knocked on his door. As if he were standing right behind it, Alex appeared moments later.

“Alex.”

“Hi.”

They stood there looking at each other for a moment before Henry gestured at the door. “Do you mind if I—?”

Alex spurred to life. “Right, yeah, come in.” He stepped aside and let Henry in, leading him towards the living room. “Can I get you anything? A beer, glass of wine, hell I can whip up a margarita.”

Henry smiled. “I think perhaps we should have this conversation sober?”

“Yeah, good idea actually.” Alex moved to sit next to Henry on the couch, leaving more space between them than they usually kept. “If you don’t mind, can I start?” Henry motioned for Alex to go ahead. “I want to apologize. Before you shot the video it didn’t sound like you really wanted anyone to know what it was. I didn’t seek it out, I promise. Nora sent it to me, I think she knew I was bi before I did, but I really shouldn’t have opened it. I thought about ignoring it, but I didn’t, I violated your trust and your wishes, and I’m really, truly sorry for that.”

“Alex, it’s okay—”

“But it’s not Hen. You told me not to watch it and I did anyway.”

Henry chuckled to himself. “I don’t recall telling you not to watch it, I think a part of me hoped you would before I… well we’ll get to that, but I didn’t explicitly say do not seek this out. People I know were bound to see it at some point or another, I’m not mad you saw it Alex.”

“You’re not?”

“Gods no. I’m more than a little embarrassed to tell you the truth. It was quite empowering, I don’t think I’ve ever felt that hot in my life, but…” Henry’s heart slammed in his chest, it was now or never. “Alex, I said, fuck I practically moaned your name.”

“A-are you embarrassed that you did it, or that it was—”

“Don’t even think about saying it, you know I’d never be embarrassed of how I feel about you.”

Alex’s breath hitched. “And how do you feel about me Henry?”

Henry’s fierce expression turned a little sad, and Alex braced himself for rejection. “You have to understand Alex, I don’t—I don’t do casual, and you just came out.”

Alex frowned. “Okay, when did I say I wanted casual?”

“Well I just thought—”

“You thought wrong then. Yes, I’m attracted to you. Like mega, big time, holy shit attracted to you. But I also like you Henry. And yeah, I’m new to this whole bisexuality thing, your fucking performance sent me down a rabbit hole I’m honestly surprised I’d never been down before, but I’d also like to take you on dates, and hold your hand, and kiss you just because I want to.”

“You’re attracted to me?” A rosy blush graced his high cheekbones.

“Obviously. Have you not seen yourself? And in that video? Jesus Christ I thought I was going to combust.”

Henry shrugged. “I honestly haven’t watched the video. I’ve never felt so… free, or sexy, like I felt so good after filming that, but I’m worried I just look silly.”

Alex scooted closer on the couch, letting his fingers rest lightly on Henry’s to test the water. When Henry didn’t pull away, Alex moved to cover his whole hand, lacing their fingers together.

“Trust me, there’s no way you could look silly doing what you did. You looked so hot baby.”

A pleasant shiver rolls down Henry’s spine at the pet name, and a smile settles deeper into his features.

“For the record, I have feelings for you too, I have for a while, but you’ve just always been… straight.”

Alex looked down at their joined hands, a chuckle rumbling through his chest. “Well lucky for you I’m not straight then, right?”

“Hm, yeah.” Henry moved even closer to Alex, pressing their legs up against each other. “I have to ask, have you ever been with a man, in any way?”

Alex winced. “No… but also yes.”

“Oh?”

“A friend of mine, Liam, from high school. We used to, I dunno, get off together. We never actually like… touched each other, or kissed or anything, but there was nothing straight about it. And like… he came out to me as gay after college.”

Henry nods, a smile on his face. “Ah, I understand. And… you’d want to do things like kiss me, and touch me?”

With raised eyebrows, Alex gives Henry a once-over. “I said I wanted to, didn’t I baby? Maybe not… all at once, but I’d really like to kiss you if that’s okay.”

With a bashful smile, Henry nodded. “More than okay, love.” He leaned in, bumping his nose against Alex’s gently, before connecting their lips in a chaste kiss. “How’s that?” He whispered, lips brushing against Alex’s with every syllable.

“Fucking come here.”

Henry let out a squeak as Alex hoisted him into his lap, legs falling on either side of his hips, and hands going to his shoulders. They stared intently into each other’s eyes, reading their expressions for any signs it was going too far, before meeting in the middle in a heated kiss. Alex’s hands went immediately to Henry’s waist, running his fingers across the small of his back. Henry felt more confident to let his own hands wander into the hair he so desperately wanted to feel. It was soft and thick, and everything he’d dreamed of, and with a light tug, he was able to extract a deep groan from Alex’s throat.

Henry pulled away, gazing once again into Alex’s eyes with the silent question of everything okay? His question was answered moments later when Alex hooked his hands under Henry’s ass and dragged him closer. He was breathless; they were chest to chest, and he could feel the effects of their actions from the man beneath him as their dicks slotted together along with the rest of themselves. They rushed forward again, practically drunk on each other with this newfound friction between them, lips meeting in the middle in a frantic kiss. Alex’s tongue met Henry’s and suddenly a new layer of arousal joined the party.

Alex pulled his lips away from Henry’s, peppering pecks across his cheek and down the column of his neck. He nipped a patch of skin at the juncture of Henry’s neck and shoulder, causing a yelp from the man above him, before soothing it with the heat of his tongue. As he worshiped the soft skin of Henry’s neck with his lips, teeth, tongue, Alex’s clever hands held a commanding grip on Henry’s ass, guiding him in a rough grind.

A whimper from Henry made Alex perk up, and he met Henry’s eyes once again.

“Oh my god, is this okay?”

“Christ, is this okay, please don’t fucking stop.”

So much for taking it slow.

With a chuckle, Alex dutifully went back to work sucking love bites on Henry’s neck. Henry’s hips moved on their own, a string of soft groans and whimpers falling from his lips as he ground down on Alex’s erection. The friction between them was heavenly, and Alex was questioning why he hadn’t tried this sooner.

“Fuck sweetheart, that’s good.” Henry’s following groan was stifled by his teeth worrying his bottom lip, and suddenly, it was too much, and not enough for Alex.

His grip on Henry’s ass tightened, and he used all his strength to stand up from their spot on the couch, Henry in his arms. His legs wound around Alex’s torso to keep himself from falling; he instantly felt lightheaded from the force of his blood rushing from his head to his dick. He knew Alex was strong, and worked out to keep his body in immaculate shape, but nothing could have prepared him for what it would be like to be manhandled by him.

“Sorry, just… too much, I was like seconds away from cumming. Is this still okay?”

Henry looked down pointedly at his own hard-on standing proudly between them before bashfully looking up at Alex.

“I guess it is, huh.”

Giggles left their throats, the two men finally having a moment to breathe after being so caught up in the moment. They giggled at the absurdity of it all, the fact that they’d danced around each other for so long, the fact that all of this came about because of some dumb (hot) video that Pez just needed him to be in.

“Where do we go from here?”

Henry looked around Alex’s apartment. “Well where would you like to go from here? I mean we could continue on the couch, or maybe the countertop, or if you’re feeling naughty you could take me to bed.”

Alex chuckled again, resting his head on Henry’s shoulder. “I mean us, where do we go from here?”

A smile graced his lips as Henry responded. “We’ll continue on, our standing Monday lunch dates, occasional Friday movie nights, and everything else in between, but we add the kissing, and the affection, and we just… don’t hold back what we’re feeling from each other. And we go from there. Let you get accustomed to being with a man, let our feelings develop. I’d like for you to be my boyfriend someday when you’re ready, I’d like to share my feelings with you, and ask that you communicate yours back. Sorry, that was terribly unsexy.”

“On the contrary sweetheart, open and honest communication with a side of promise for the future? Almost as sexy as contract law, talk dirty to me.”

“Oh you cretin.” Henry swatted Alex’s chest, then leaned in for a chaste kiss. “We don’t have to go any further than you’re comfortable with tonight, but I really would like to continue what we were doing, love. Take me to bed?”

Alex’s smile was nowhere near shy. “Yeah baby, let’s go to bed.”

#firstprince #firstprince fic #rwrb fic #rwrb #henry x alex #henry fox mountchristen windsor #alex claremont diaz #red white and royal blue #rwrb fanfic #my writing

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longstoryshort22 · 1 year ago

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all 1989tv vault tracks are about dianna agron

Slut:

“everyone wants him that was my crime” at that time everyone knew taylor was dating harry because they were going on pap walks since the start of their relationship, and also everyone loved and wanted him. So from “lovelorn and nobody knows” we can know that the one she was really in love with…was not harry. The “he” she refers to in the song is harry, but the “you” is another person, who she was privately dating. That’s why she said she would pay the price of everyone calling her a slut but “you” wouldn’t, because nobody knew about the secret “you”.

And then she realizes that if people are gonna judge her for everything she does, she might as well be with someone she truly loves.

Also, the flamingo pink, which I think they posted around the same time—

Say Don’t Go:

“why'd you have to lead me on?” harry wasn’t leading taylor on, they were full on dating.

“why'd you whisper in the dark? just to leave me in the night?” I think harry stayed the night with Taylor a few times, so he wouldn’t have to leave her in the night because everyone knew they were dating, but dianna would have to.

“the waiting is a sadness. fading into madness” I really don’t think harry could make her that mad, if you agree Wonderland is about dianna then this is too.

This is like a breakup song, and I’ll say it once and for all—the breakup songs on 1989 can’t be about karlie, kaylor were just in the beginning when taylor wrote the album.

Now That We Don’t Talk:

“I cannot be your friend, so I pay the price of what I lost and what it cost” “truth is I can't pretend it's platonic” a very we’re-friends-but-want-to-be-more situation, which fits right into a gay relationship. Also, when were harry and taylor ever platonic? Neither of them needed to pretend they’re platonic because they started dating right after they met and everyone knew that they were dating so it just doesn’t make sense.

“what do you tell your friends, we shared dinners, long weekends with?” everyone knew harry and taylor were dating, so did their friends, then why would taylor add “what did you tell your friends” when there was nothing to explain about them sharing dinners and weekends because they were dating!!

“you part the crowd like the Red Sea”

“you grew your hair long. you got new icons”some people may argue that dianna didn’t grow her hair long at that time, but this line can be figurative, saying that dianna changed her brand (maybe “straighten” up) and everything.

Suburban Legends:

“I had the fantasy that maybe our mismatched star signs would surprise the whole school”

taylor is a Sagittarius, harry is a Aquarius, karlie is a Leo, and dianna is a Taurus—

“class reunion”, “1950s gymnasium”, and the lockers in the lyric video visuals, it’s all very Glee (and the cheerios) coded

“I pace down your block” brings back to I Wish You Would, and that song is about dianna.

“when you told me we'd get back together”“waves crash on the shore, I dash to the door, you don't knock anymore, and my whole life's ruined” same concept as Style, a relationship that’s on and off and in the end taylor realized that that person would always come back into her life no matter how many times they left, so her life’s ruined (in a good way). And Style is obviously about dianna.

Is It Over Now:

also talking about an on and off relationship, in which she kept wondering if they were over or not. taylor and harry only dated for two or three months, how can they fell apart and came back together over and over again?! It’s very Out Of The Woods and Style coded, and so it’s about dianna.

I know “when you lost control. red blood, white snow” is a reference to their snowmobile accident, also mentioned in Out Of The Woods, but personally I think that song is about the pain of bearding and not being able to be with the one she truly loved (dianna). So in Out Of The Woods she’s talking to harry, but it’s more like “are we out of this faking pretending painful relationship?” And maybe when the accident happened, with the sun coming up and them looking at each other, they realized they didn’t want to do it anymore, it wasn’t worth it, so they decided to set each other free.

#taylor swift #gaylor #swiftgron #dianna agron #1989 vault tracks #1989 taylor's version

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pandorasword · 2 years ago

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Chaeri as the 8th and youngest member of BTS.

Chaeri's masterlist

❒ members: Jungkook

❒ genre: Angst

❒ words: 1.6k+

❒ summary: In which posing for Calvin Klein turns out to be a more challenging job than she'd ever thought it would be

❒ notes: I don't know what to say about this. Maybe I feel like insulting myself, maybe I feel like insulting Chaeri, maybe I feel like insulting everybody. My heart aches

❒ warnings: Confusing af

Calvin Klein with BTS' Jungkook and Chaeri

Early March 2023 (Before Harry Styles' concert in Seoul)

a little off-camera ⸻

When she set foot on the set, she was greeted by a warm welcome from the entire crew. The Calvin Klein team was thrilled to see her, having finally formalized the contract to have her as their ambassador. In the past, she had received several proposals from the brand, but her company had not yet deemed it the right time for such a mature exposure. Now, however, as a young woman whose career seemed to have transitioned from 'kpop idol' to 'global star' she could boast additional benefits, such as being able to expose herself more than the usual 'label' of the kpop world typically allowed. Chaeri had worked hard to get there, and it was finally paying off.

She shook several hands and was complimented in multiple languages, half of which she didn't even know.

Everyone seemed to swirl around her, to express how proud they were to have her as their new ambassador, how much the fans would love the photos that would be released and the mature, woman-defining image that all that would give her.

And she was ecstatic and very grateful, but she was almost relieved to be able to retreat to the changing room for a few minutes of silence.

Chaeri hoped she hadn’t come off as rude. She had tried to pay the right amount of attention to everyone, speak in her best English, and make a great first impression, despite the nervousness she felt right under her skin since waking up that morning. She cared a lot about the project and wanted it to go well.

She wasn't usually nervous in this kind of situation. For about the last ten years, the girl had lived with cameras constantly focused on her, and she had learned not to shy away from them a long time ago. With that in mind, she knew, unfortunately, that her anxiety didn't come from the upcoming photo shoot, but rather from the person she would be sharing the campaign with.

She closed the door behind her and didn't even have time to sigh in relief at having escaped all that - too much - attention. Despite the generous size of the dressing room, larger than many she'd been in, someone's presence seemed to occupy every available inch.

She expected them to have separate areas to prepare for the shoot, but instead Chaeri found Jungkook stretched out on a sofa. Dressed in his usual black clothes, he stood out sharply against the white leather sofa. He was holding a cell phone in his tattooed hand while his hair looked even longer and wilder than she remembered.

He looked up as she entered, and their eyes met for the first time in weeks, since the day he had driven her back to her apartment after living together for weeks.

Her accident earlier in the year had forced her into weeks of painful rehabilitation and forced rest. The other members of the group had such busy schedules that no one could help her on a consistent basis. But he wasn't as busy and had offered to stay by her side. He wanted to be close to her, he wanted to be the one person that she could rely on during that stressful time. So they were back under the same roof, in the dormitory they had left some time before, to start a life with more privacy. His eyes widened slightly as well, a sign that he hadn't had any idea that he would be sharing the room with Chaeri. Clearing his throat, though, he put the phone in his pocket, straightened, and said, "Hey" His voice was warm and deep.

Unable to connect with the part of her brain responsible for moving her legs, Chaeri paused at the threshold of the just-closed door. "Hey" she tried to keep her voice steady.

This was exactly what she had been dreading. She didn't know how to act around him anymore. It seemed that since she had recovered and returned to her regular life, something had been left unresolved between them.

Somebody tried to open the door and Chaeri was hit in the back, which eventually caused her feet to move and finally step into the room, clearing the way for the staff. "We've been informed that the bathroom in the other dressing room has a leak, and now both rooms are unusable. It looks like you're going to have to share this dressing room. If that's okay with you, of course. They say they apologize for the inconvenience." A tall girl with a dark ponytail and charming purple glasses had bowed her head slightly in apology. She wore a badge around her neck identifying her as a staff member.

Jungkook looked at her, his eyes big and dark, filled with longing. They were just like she remembered them. As they had always been.

"No problem, we'll take turns" he finally said, and Chaeri nodded, agreeing to the boy's proposed solution.

The purple-glasses girl clasped her hands, her lips forming a perfect arch, curling upward, her upper lip slightly plumper. "Great. We'll start with you, Jungkookie, since you arrived first." Jungkookie?

Then she slowly turned her head toward Chaeri, her eyebrows raised slightly. "Is that a problem?" Her tone was firm, as if it didn't matter what the girl was going to answer, because she had already decided. That made Chaeri narrow her eyes. She didn't like it. "No problem"

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ

Jungkook returned to the dressing room only when Chaeri was almost ready, sitting in front of a mirror surrounded by bright lights that reflected their images. Her makeup artists were focused on her face, putting on the finishing touches with precision as they added a touch of blush and glitter at the corners of her eyes. Jungkook's reflection was timid, his hands tucked into the pockets of the denim jeans they had chosen for him for the photo shoot. They were straight-cut, light-colored, hugging his hips before falling wider along his thighs - exactly what she would have picked for him if she had been in charge. The silence between them, and the embarrassment he seemed to feel as he looked around the room uncertainly, not knowing whether it was appropriate to meet her gaze or not, made Chaeri's stomach turn.

This gave her a burst of confidence to initiate a conversation, to break the tension, because nothing bothered her more than seeing Jungkook struggling.

"So, we're doing the denim shots first, right?

Jungkook's eyes flicked over to her in the mirror, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Yeah, that's what they said. Denim shots first" he confirmed

"I confirm. Denim shots, you're up now. Are you ready?" The girl with the purple glasses interrupted.

Chaeri didn't remember ever seeing her before, yet she was clearly part of Hybe. Could she be new? They must have changed the hiring requirements, and the most important one must surely be 'being annoying,' no doubt about it.

Yet the fact that she referred to Jungkook so informally suggested to her that she had probably been there longer than she imagined, or simply that the two had become quite close in a short time.

She shook off those thoughts that were taking root in her mind, brushing them away like they were parasites on one of her favorite houseplants. She told herself that in the end, it was normal to ask those questions, to have a certain type of curiosity about the people who got close to her members. There was no other reason except a terribly bad habit of that.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ

As they entered the set, they were warmly greeted by the rest of the Calvin Klein staff. Everything was prepared, from the lights to the cameras pointed at them to the background of the scene. Before they began, the artistic director made sure to share his vision for the project and how he expected things to be done. Luckily for him and the two of them, the connection was immediate.

They started with individual shots. Chaeri posed with ease, every shot showing off her curves and the denim outfit in the best way possible. Jungkook too was a natural, his toned physique and smoldering gaze making for the perfect shot.

But when it was time for the duo shots, things got a little awkward.

The first concept was to show the lower part of their bodies to enhance the jeans they were wearing.

They were instructed to lean against each other, Jungkook's hands on her pants, while Chaeri's hands rested on his chest.

As they got into position, haeri couldn't help her body's automatic response to the boy's touch, recalling all the times he had held her like that, in very different circumstances. Silly tactile memory.

When Jungkook's hands brushed against her hips, She held her breath for a second.

That situation was putting her in a tough spot.

"Sorry" he whispered, probably sensing the strange and unnatural stiffness in which she was in his arms.

"It's fine" she replied. They had to get the job done.

As the photographer started snapping away, Chaeri tried to focus on the job at hand and shut up those useless and disrespectful thoughts that surfaced in his mind from time to time.

She was dating Hongjoong and not him.

He was probably seeing that cute staff girl and not her.

Things were clear, weren't they?

They were just good friends now, or rather 'family’, nothing more.

But as the shoot progressed and every time Jungkook's hands brushed against her or their bodies came too close, her mind went blank.

It was like she was caught in a whirlwind of past emotions.

As they moved on to the next concept, things only got worse. This time, they were asked to lay on top of each other, their bodies pressed together while being face to face.

It was too much for Chaeri. She could feel Jungkook's breath on her face, his body heat radiating against hers. It was like all of her senses were on high alert, and she couldn't focus on anything else.

"Jungkook" Chaeri told him, turning her face to the side to break that eye contact they had forced them to make.

"What's wrong?" his voice was low, probably due to the fact that he did not want to be heard by anyone but her and, moreover, by the fact that she was literally pressed against his chest.

"I don't know" she said, her voice shaky. "I just...I can't do this."

Jungkook sat up, and she was quick to stand up and bow to the photographer in apology "I'm sorry, I just need a break" Chaeri rushed off the set, not looking back until she had reached the safety of her changing room. Her heart was racing, and she could feel the sweat beading on her forehead. What was wrong with her? Why was she feeling this way?

She sat down on the couch, letting out a deep breath. She needed to calm down and get her head back in the game. That shoot was important for her career, and she had just bailed without a valid reason. She mentally called herself stupid.

As she was trying to catch her breath and regain her composure, the door to the changing room opened, and Jungkook walked in.

"Are you okay?" the boy's voice was soft. You could tell from his face that he was worried, conflicted. He had sucked his lower lip slightly, biting it with his teeth. He took a few steps forward until he was brave enough to sit on the couch by her side.

She could smell the scent of his cologne. Bulgari.

Her and V had gifted it to him years before, and since then the guy had repurchased it bottle after bottle.

She cleared her throat "I'm okay" she said, trying to sound convincing.

"No, you're not" he said, his eyes searching hers. "You've been acting strange ever since I got here."

Chaeri looked away, unable to meet his gaze.

"You think I..." he began, taking a brief pause, nervously moving the piercing on the side of his lip with his tongue. "You think I didn't notice how you reacted to every shot we took together? Call me stupid, Chaeri, but I haven't forgotten the way your body responded to mine. And now it seemed just like..."

Hongjoong Hongjoong Hongjoong Hongjoong Hongjoong

In her head rumbled the name of the boy who had been so patient and sweet with her, who had shown her that love could also be experienced in freedom, without having to hide, without having to lie, without having to pretend to be something that you are not.

"I really don't know what you are talking about, so stop it” She interrupted him abruptly, angry with him, and especially angry with herself “Stop assuming about an us.”

I’m an horrible person, she thought.

Jungkook's face fell and Chaeri could feel the tension in the air. She hated hurting him, but she couldn't let it happen. Let nothing between them happen.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly, standing up from the couch. "I didn't mean to make things awkward."

Chaeri watched as he walked towards the door, feeling a pang of regret, but she didn't think she could handle being around him without wanting more. Not after the weeks she had spent with him, not after the way he had cared for her, not after the way his touch had reminded her of the feelings she was forced to suppress for years by then.

"Jungkook" she called out, her voice barely above a whisper.

He turned around, his eyes meeting hers once again.

"I'm sorry too," she said, standing up from the couch. "I just...I can't do this. Not with you, not again."

Jungkook’s eyes showed a hint of disappointment. He knew he had to respect her wishes, but it didn't make it any easier "I should probably get back to the shoot"

"Yeah, you should"

This was the end of something, and she wasn't quite sure what it was.

Jungkook turned to leave once again and that time she didn't call him to come back

As she watched him leave, Chaeri couldn't shake off the feeling that this was only the beginning of something bigger. Something that would eventually come to light and threaten to destroy everything she had worked so hard for.

But for now, she had a shoot to finish. She took a deep breath and stood up, determined to put her emotions aside and focus on the job.

That was what she had been taught at the end, wasn't it?

taglist: @alixnsuperstxr

#bts 8th member #jungkook x reader #bts female addition #bts female member #bts x reader #kpop female addition #kpop female oc #kpop female member #bts imagines #jungkook imagine #jungkook scenarios

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phoenix-manga · 1 year ago

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Ella Glaciel

CV: Moroboshi Sumire

Biographical Information

Gender: Female

Age: 17

Birthday: September 6

Starsign: Virgo

Height: 165 cm

Eye Color: Mariner

Hair Color: Sea Pink

Professional Status

Dorm: Glastanzerin

School Year: 2nd Year

Class: 2-C | Student no. 12

Occupation: Student | Dorm Leader

Club: Horse Grooming Club

Best Subject: Basic Etiquette | Needlework and Jewelry

Fun Facts

Favorite Food: Cheese Platter

Least Favorite Food: Fish

Dislikes: Too much chores

Hobby: Sewing

Talents: Quick stitching

Idol Stats

Performance: Soft vocals meant for classical songs

Choreography: Displays cute and dainty poses. Also incorporates ballet into her choreography

Styling Jewel Outfits: Classical | Cute

She is incredibly skilled in sewing and even has a fashion brand under her name at DCA. Her family’s clothing apparel is well known in a number of kingdoms. When working, she gets a fiery look in her eyes and will rush to her workspace and make the clothes with the help of magic and some precision with a needle.

Due to her noble upbringing, she carries herself in a lady-like manner. Always keeping her hand folded when she sits, greets with a bow, uses words that are graceful and sweet, and many other things. Which means she is also knowledgeable regarding trends in social circles.

She isn’t really brave nor is she assertive, if faced with someone aggressive she just runs away. And she’s so quick like a mouse that no one can catch up to her. Yelling will cause her to freeze up, it was a habit that never went away after the abuse she suffered under her first stepmother.

Has a skill for marketing, she focuses on what makes the product good and presents it to the client by flattering their style and recommending a set suited for them without offending the person.

Any other topic other than her interests makes her mind blank though, she keeps quiet until the topic is something she knows.

Whenever she changes clothes, she quickly starts with changing stockings as she still feels insecure with her leg scars. She would rather endure the hot weather in stockings rather than show the scars. It sometimes throbs with subtle pain.

Hometown: Glasswork Kingdom

Family Life

Ella spent her early years in a loving embrace of her birth mother and her father. The two often pampered their daughter with plenty of cute gifts and toys but the most treasured gift Ella kept was a jewelry set of baby blue birds made by her mother before she passed. She often gazes upon it to remember her mother.

When her father remarried to Lucille, her life was spent in abuse. Constantly being tormented by her step siblings and getting punished for every little mistake by her step mother. The servants feared Lucille as she would threaten their jobs and flaunting how she has connections that will cause trouble to their families. Until a servant had enough and told the Gaspard of what has been happening while he was away.

Gaspard was ashamed of himself for letting such a terrible woman in to his household to threaten his servants and his precious daughter. He filed for a lawsuit and this was the first time that he wasn’t timid or gentle. His eyes were cold as he stared down the Luciferia family, this was the first time he’s ever felt such anger.

He became protective of Ella and often had background checks on new people he hired and closed himself from any women who he assumed was just aiming for his wealth and title.

Ella slowly recovered but there were still traces of trauma, but she tries her best to be better so she wouldn’t worry her father. She was glad he met another woman who was genuinely caring but she still struggles to open up, yet she hopes to overcome the past to finally be a happy family again.

Childhood Memories

Ella’s memories of her mother are quite few, considering that she was very young when she passed but she wants to keep those memories alive by talking to the servants who worked for her mother, asking her father as well as looking through the photo albums. She feared that forgetting her mother’s memories would be like throwing away a cherished family member.

There was one memory that she always liked to hear about, it was when she was but a toddler in her two’s that she shocked both parents when she dragged some silk onto an unfinished dress and the parents realizing that the color Ella picked looked better. Gaspard always questions how genetically gifted Ella’s talent was for fashion.

During the time where she suffered under the Luciferia family, the fear and trauma was ingrained into her and she would flinch or freeze up if anyone held a stick or something close to that near her. Her father had trusted family doctors, who are sworn to keep the leg scars between them, to look after and help Ella mentally recover.

It took almost a year and a half but Ella was able to act normally again with the help of doctors, though loud yelling and arguments still unnerve her. She can handle herself a bit better.

Ella is a 2nd year Glastanzerin student and is the current dorm leader.

She always admired the story of the Maiden of the Glass Shoe, being sorted into her dream dorm made her so happy. Ella is known in the dorm for her family name as well as skills, she has such a fast and nimble way of sewing using minimal amounts of magic. Not anyone can just replicate her dresses.

She has a lot of commissions in school and every single order has been made with plenty of care and caters to the customer’s taste always.

More often than not, Ella likes to discuss with the dorm students about the latest trends that the girls would keep their ears open whenever Ella gives fashion advice.

There were times that Ella would spend her downtime feeding her mice and other wild animals to unwind. Sometimes even having a tea party consisting of mainly animals, it wasn’t odd to anyone who studies in DCA but to outsiders it may be weird.

The dorm students are quite protective of Ella and will not tolerate any disrespect, Ella has no idea how scary her dorm students get when there is an unpleasant person confronting her.

Ella has quite high grades due to the tutors her father hired. Though her worst subject is PE due to her lack of physical training as well as the fact due to the scars on her legs, she finds it difficult to keep up. She dislikes feeling sweaty after doing exercises, if it was yoga then she’d have no problem however.

School Relationships

Ella gets along with mostly everyone due to her sweet nature and the tendency to provide news on the latest trends. As a noble, she is also decent in academics, her best grades are on dance, music and sewing. PE is her worst subject as she always gets sore after just one class, she also feels uncomfortable when she reeks of sweat from the sun.

Evonie is a big sister figure to her with how she often helps her when she gets anxious or when a confrontation takes place but she was too scared to talk back. She admits that she envies Evonie a little bit with how strong she was along with other girls who aren’t dainty. She wonders if she can be strong like them if she could just get over her fears.

She admires Briar as she has never been face-to-face with a real princess before. Her regal air and beautiful visage prompts her to create inspiring outfits to one day be worn by royalty. Though she can’t help but notice the sorrow in Briar’s eyes which maybe another factor as to why she feels a familiarity with her.

Cerule and Ella’s first meeting has her nearly fainting from excitement at the idea of meeting an actual mermaid. She’s read about them in storybooks but to see one in real life was way better. Cerule thinks Ella is pretty cute like a sea angel. Ella gets a lot of colored pearls and sea glass from Cerule after a dive for treasure.

Perrine won her over when Ella got a whiff of the smell of spices that was cooking in the campus cafeteria. Perrine and Allison’s desserts that are decorated to their tastes would always be a source of new ideas for Ella. She often takes pictures of their food before eating, she eats in small bites to savor the taste.

Bumpkin and Ella get along so well as fans of fashion, though Bumpkin is so adamant about ungodly amounts of glitter. Bumpkin’s form is from Ella’s doll she used to play with in her childhood. It always brought comfort to her during sad days.

Bumpkin acts as a fairy godmother to Ella, always helping her out in her time of need and would fiercely protect her if anyone dares to make her cry.

Mozza

The swiftest mouse who acts as the leader of the group. He does all the talking and negotiating in mouse matters, he is the one who reports to Ella about the latest information and gossip.

Gouda

The food crazy mouse who is the chunkiest of them all. He tends to just lay in one place nibbling on cheese. Often times Ella puts him in her pocket as he snoozes about. He is also quite cowardly, anything that resembles a cat and he freaks out and runs with speed that rivals Mozza’s.

Brie

The pretty mouse who hoards anything shiny like a corvid would. She is the one who assists Ella when she’s sewing the most. A mouse with an eye for detail. She likes riding in Ella’s pockets because dirt makes her fussy.

Parmes

The genius mouse who may seem plain but inside the mouse holes, but he has made layouts for the fastest routes to any place in the building. The inventions are made from lost things such as pins and buttons that are no longer needed among other things.

Pecorin

The youngest mouse of the group, she’s so small that other mice carry her around in a thimble basket made by Parmes. Ella is worried that the poor thing might get squished so she made a fluffy hand bag to carry all five mice in. Pecorin is often found in a dollhouse just enjoying herself.

Dusty

Ella’s horse who is a Rocky Mountain breed. He is friendly and happy-go-lucky, sometimes distracted by shiny things if he sees one in the corner of his eye. He is skilled in doing tricks as well as carrying heavy loads.

Her unique magic is called, “Glacify” this allows her to make anything she wants shimmer like polished glass. No matter what object it is, she can make it shiny. This doesn’t work on living things, though it works on plants oddly.

This magic effect can last until 12 o’ clock, it doesn’t matter if it was AM or PM, and it always disappears when the clock strikes 12.

Ella often uses this to make her fashion presentation pretty but she mostly uses it on the accessories or the lighting mostly. Using it on the dress would be considered cheating in her eyes. Though the process of making the dress uses magic to be quick and efficient.

Gaspard Antoine Glaciel

A soft-hearted, humble man who has a hobby for aromatherapy and indoor gardening. He makes exquisite shoes that the locals sought after. His business was only known in the Glasswork Kingdom until he was finally taking the gamble to set up a shop outside of his home country. He doesn’t take business risks unless he’s convinced that there will be no losses.

He was devastated after his wife passed away, he married Lucille only because of a mutual benefit, and affection wasn’t involved. He thought that she would benefit Ella since she worked as an educator.

He ended up filing a case against her when he found out she was abusing Ella under the guise of “tutoring”. He became more attentive to his daughter after the divorce, but his heart became closed off to any potential bachelorettes for a long time until he met Claudette.

Emellette Glaciel

Ella’s birthmother, an adventurous woman who likes to hunt and go horseback riding. She proposed to Gaspard first, she was always such a bold woman. But Gaspard always loved that about her.

She was known for her beautifully crafted jewelry sets. She and her husband started the business selling their crafts and designs to the people in the kingdom.

She passed away due to an illness when Ella turned 7. Leaving a crafted jewelry set that are based on blue birds for Ella to wear when she turns 18 one day. Ella cherishes this jewelry set the most and makes sure to hide it from Lucille in a secret compartment.

Lucille Luciferia

Ella’s first stepmother who is vain and sought to climb the social ladder by any means necessary. She worked as an educator but was known to be very strict and harsh to students, this includes Ella. Every time Ella did a little thing wrong, she would get hit on the back of her legs with a riding crop. This resulted in Ella getting scars on her legs with how hard she was struck.

She has no shame in wearing jewelry that was owned by Gaspard’s first wife, flaunting it, and being boastful to people whenever they go to gatherings. Pretending to be nice whenever Gaspard was in the house and when he leaves, she drops her façade and torments the servants in the household.

Lucille plays ignorant to her sons’ bullying of Ella, and even tells her that her father won’t believe her if she tries to tattle on them. She ended up being socially disgraced and had to live in her relative’s house along with her sons because she was also fired from the school she works at.

Edwin Luciferia (18)

An egotistic young man who constantly picks on Ella by playing mean pranks as well as destroying her toys and things. He is also narcissistic, he views himself as the best but has an ego as fragile as glass. When someone is better than him or tries to call him out on his bluff, he will retaliate by berating them or even resorting to violence.

He abuses his status as a noble to get what he wants, he is not above spreading false rumors about people who dares to defy him. As such, his classmates avoid him.

He used to have a group of students at his beck and call, they stuck around mostly because of his status and the wealth of his stepfather. But now that his mother was fired, he was left behind by his so-called “loyal followers”. He’s become more aggressive but those who he picked on now gossip about him. To the point where they do it in earshot.

Roman Luciferia (18)

The quiet young man who has a calculating gaze and sharp tongue. His bullying tactics are harsh words he hurls towards Ella. Although the true reason he picks on her was because Edwin doesn’t make him his target now, so his situation is mainly a target directing the negativity onto someone weaker.

However, it doesn’t mean that he isn’t at fault. At school, he was always harsh to those who are below him concerning academics. He thinks of himself as a genius unlike his bonehead brother. But after the divorce of his mother and stepfather, he is struggling to keep up academics now that Edwin is back to targeting him.

Claudette Darlington

Ella’s second stepmother who got married to Gaspard after they fell for each other after being business partners for a while. She works in the tea business, selling an assortment of tea leaves and tea sets. She is a professional in her career but she is also a patient mother. She doesn’t force Ella to trust her since she can tell that the trauma still affects her. She gives Ella her space and time to adjust until she can finally open up to her.

Gaspard at first was professional towards Claudette, slowly she starts to notice how stressed he was an offered some tea to help him. She respected their professional relationship and has heard of the incident that took place years before.

The first time she met Ella was when he had her over to discuss business, she was cautious and took note on her movements so as not to startle the poor child. Ella warmed up to Claudette when she asked about her mother.

She didn’t expect Gaspard to propose to her but at first she told him to talk this out with Ella because her opinion should also be considered.

The character's name, "Ella" is obviously based on Cinderella, with the live action movie revealing that "Ella" is her real name but she was called, "Cinderella" as a form of insult.

Ella's backstory was made with new ideas that came to mind, to give more personality to her.

#twisted wonderland #diamond crown academy #dca #twst #ella glaciel #headcanons #glastanzerin

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dreaming-about-seireitei · 11 months ago

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But what about shoes??

So last night I couldn't sleep because I kept asking myself about what kind of footwear would the Bleach characters wear, adapted to today's fashion. I came up with this hc for some of them and I just needed to post it. (Be aware, I know almost nothing about fashion or fashion brands, so if you feel like that's not right just know I did my best)

Renji

- I honestly think Renji would definitely be the kind of guy who would wear these Nikes, the W Dunk High, obviously in red.

- I also believe he would be secretely proud of them, and would clean them every time before going out of the house (even if they'd get dirty in a fight immediately).

-He would probably have at least one more pair that looks the same, maybe with just a little detail difference, in case these ones get broken in a fight.

- I think he buys them alone so people don't see how happy he gets when he finally has them in the bag

Ichigo

- Our main boy would probably wear these Pumas (that I can't remember the full name of)

- They kinda go with his bankai, but it's mostly just a coincidence

- He actually bought them because he needed a new pair, and it was the first pair that caught his eye

- I feel like fashion would not be his priority, he would prefer longevity over anything else and feeling comfy

Orihime

- I am 100% sure she would own at least two of these colorful Converse that she embroidered or decorated herself

- She is the cute and unique type that would wear these anywhere and with anything (even if they don't match)

-They are comfy, but also cute and that's mostly what counts for her, as she buys them for the main bold colors and decorates them however she feels like on the spot

Toshiro

- In my mind, I see him wearing these Reeboks he would look so good in them and he wouldn't even try oh god

- I feel like when buying them, he'd probably look at the sole of the footwear first to ensure it can hold his fighting as well as his shunpo before anything else

- They match his hair and eyes and add a plus to his otherwise kind of plain outfits (he doesn't see it, but he likes the look anyway)

- I see the brand itself mostly bought by adults who already have kids and are tired and take walks to free their mind; and we know he has the tastes of an elder person already and is tired from scolding Matsumoto all day and just wants something nice, nothing out of the ordinary

Rukia

- My girl would totally wear the combat boots idc

- She will feel her feet more secure with them on and would like the adherence of the boots

- She also bought them because when she tried them on, she felt like people took her a bit more serious because she looks badass in them

- The black, simple style is what she likes in term of fashion because she can wear them with her dresses, as well as with her fighting gear

Matsumoto

- If you think our fashionista will not wear some great platform sandals any time of the day, I regret to inform you, you are wrong.

- She would most definitely go through a pair every week because they're not very resistant, but that's fine because she has plenty of pairs.

- She buys them from specific stores that she likes in the World of the Living, at least two or three pairs at a time

- She mostly gets them in black, because it goes with everything, obviously, but she might also have a white and a brown pair for special occasions (like going shopping)

Uryu

- These President boots (I think that's what they're called) would be all that's in his closet, multiple pairs, leather, suede, in black and brown, but just this type of shoes

- He would not only buy them because of the very good quality, true materials, but also because they look very serious and grown

- He would be careful with them and always have his laces neatly tied

- Would get mad at Ichigo for accidentally stepping on them

This is mostly what I had in mind, let me know if you share the same opinion, if not, what would you change about it? Also, please someone let me know if this is a normal lenght for a post, I feel like it's too long.

Obviously I took all the photos from the internet and don't own any of them.

#honestly I don't even know why I did this #this took me more than it should have #abarai renji #kurosaki ichigo #inoue orihime #hitsugaya toshiro #matsumoto rangiku #ishida uryu #bleach #bleach hc #bleach headcanon

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danggirlronpa · 6 months ago

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i love your blog so so much ty for being a f/f safe space in the m/f and m/m dominated dgrp fandom 🫂 pls drop some maki or celes queer hcs i love my little red eyed girls

ofc!! <3 Already did Maki, so here's finally the chance to get into my Very Thorough And Specific Celestia Gender Headcanons, Buckle Up

(Warning for discussion of internalized transphobia throughout!)

This is going to be a curveball even for people who share the trans girl Celestia headspace, but I actually don't think that Celestia realizes she's a girl at any point we witness her in canon.

Celestia. To Me. Is engaging in high school equivalent of drag. Because she's playing out a persona she was in roleplay forums as a middle schooler. If you're a Young Teen, going on the internet, finding a roleplay website, and going buckwild was a lot of people's Baby's First Queer Experience. There were so many websites. They used to have sections of the Quizilla dedicated to it.

And Celestia is...obviously the type of person who lived on those forums. Look At Her. Look At How She Acts. This is a girl who is committed to The Persona. Celestia had a Twilight OC with eight names that she religiously played as daily until everyone collectively decided Twilight wasn't cool and she summarily locked it up forever. She loves a guise.

"Celestia" is an extension of that. Hope's Peak is a brand new place! No one knows her name! No one knows who she is! It's the perfect place to practice her Roleplay Craft. Look at how Feminine TM "she" is! (Wow wearing these dresses is so nice. Celestia loves these dresses. Anyway TM) Look at how prim and proper "she" is! Celestia is a character come to life, V3-style, except her GM is completely aware and in control.

I don't think, in THH proper, she ever gets past this. I think in Celestia's head she's always Faking It. She's always Pretending To Be A Woman, Haha, JK! She's always got the out to recede back into when one day someone learns she Isn't A Real Woman. It was just a play! You all just got played!

There's only one time I think we ever see a hint of Celestia who truly understands and embraces that she's a girl. And that's here.

This is my favorite art of Celestia, because it's the most genuine she's ever been in her entirely life. She's blushing! She's engaging in silly antics instead of just demanding they stop! She's doing silly teenage "I am YANKING YOUR FAKE EYELASHES OFF" threats instead of sexually charged adult "I am STEPPING ON YOU PIG" threats! This is the only glimpse we ever get of a Celestia who lets the mask slip in a real sense, not just because she's angry. This is a Celestia who's willingly let her guard down enough that she can get flustered and mess around.

And I really think that would be the catalyst for her. I think Celestia being forced to acknowledge "Actually I love this life, and I love this long hair, and I love make-up and dresses, and I love being called Celestia and grouped with the girls" is one of the biggest steps towards vulnerability she'll ever make.

In a world where Summer Camp and UTDP really explored their own implications, we could've seen more of this Celeste. But since we didn't, I cling with love to my headcanon that, even though it's not where she changes her name or buys her wig, This is where Celestia starts to heal.

#celestia ludenberg #headcanons #thh #asks #sangomilk #talk to the mod #mod hangout

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silly-inky · 1 year ago

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Art class

(Booigi (king boo x Luigi) post)

(Quick note from op at the end)

I have made the headcanons before that Luigi models for Peach’s painting’s and it’s coming into play here (there are random perspective changes so I do apologize)

Anyway’s

Peach had to watch the Koopalings again as Bowser had a very important meeting to attend with both Kamek and Kammy so he needed someone to watch the kids (this is not a ship, this is purely Peach helping Bowser out because she has free time and she loves the kids)

For the most part Peach can still do her own thing while keeping an eye on the rowdy bunch, so she is able to do some painting as they play outside, as they are all outside Luigi is sat in chair opposite peach posing for her as she paints, he’s in a nice summer dress with a straw hat.

The kids wonder over one by one to ask what she and Luigi are doing and decide to start painting with Peach, she gives them all a sketch pad with some pencils and paints while Luigi takes a quick break to stretch his legs and get some food and then models for them all.

By the end of the day when bowser comes to collects the kids, they all show off their paintings of Luigi, Bowser think it would be a nice activity to join in and the kids gave it a go so if it’s something he can do to bond with his kids he’s going to do it.

The word slowly spreads of this growing art class/group within the royals, so whenever there are royal meetings or gatherings where they all come to visit Peach, after the meeting they all sit in a hall as Luigi poses for them, which is very nerve wrecking for him at first but he warms up to it as no one insults him, he gets to wear nice dresses, it’s helping with him stage fright, plus he lives to see all the paintings made of him, some being traditional, some more abstract, but in the end he’s glad that in some way he helped create those.

Now for the Booigi, King Boo gets wind of this, either through E.Gadd, or hearing it said casually at one of the races. Now King Boo being King Boo, he loves to paint, he loves Luigi, he loves to (peacefully now that him nd E.Gafd are on alright terms) terrorise Luigi, why not combine 3 of his favourite things together? So he decides to start attending his royal meetings purely so he can be in the art classes

Peach welcomes him in giving him a place to sit/float with all the equipment he needs (not what he personally uses but they will do for now, he’ll have to recommend the princess the brand he uses, or at least bring his own next time) and waits for Luigi to come in a pose.

Not to mention seeing Luigi in a dress, now that would make his day, it wasn't much of a secret he had a thing for the green plumber after all, he hasn’t really seen Luigi in anything but his overall’s before, but he’s heard from the other royalty he looks quite lovely in them, in fact sometimes Luigi would be gifted dress by the respective Kings, Queens, Princes and Princesses either to wear for the next meeting or as a gift. He heard that a few of them have even made it a competition to see who can get him the most loveliest dress. Poor Luigi loves all the new dresses but has to leave them with peach as he has no room for them at home

King Boo was pulled from his thoughts when he heard Prince Jr whisper next to him “Luigi’s coming in now, you should probably get your paints ready”. As he thanked the little Prince for the heads up he looks around to see the plumber clad in green, only he wasn't in green. Luigi entered to room and took his place in the middle of the room were he could easily be viewed by all, and what a sight he was.

(Sorry for the long description here) He had his hair up in a messy bun with a few face framing pieces falling beautifully around his face (my Luigi has long hair) and his dress was a lovely snow white, if he didn’t know any better it almost looked like a wedding dress, well he looked more like princess with the style of dress but the white immediately reminded him of a traditional wedding gown. It was floor length, and had layers of tool that made it look as if it was light as a cloud and as flowy as air, the bodice was decorated with patterns of flowers and snowflakes in intricate lace, it was off the shoulders and the sleeves were made out of the same tools used on top of the skirt. He was wearing pearls to keep it some what simple, which were also pinned in his hair. He looked breath taking to say the least.

Princess Peach stood up and began to speak “thank you again Luigi for agreeing to our model, and if I remember correctly this dress was gifted to you by King Penguin yes?”

“yes it was I and my wife that gifted it to him, when I showed her the paintings that I had made of Luigi, she insisted on having our finest seamstresses make him a dress inspired off of our kingdom” King Penguin beamed

“That’s lovely to hear, but why not blue? That’s the colour you and your people typically wear is it not?” Princess Peach asked

“It is but my wife insisted on making something that would truly stand out amongst the blue, and as nobody else had suggest a white dress for Luigi to wear she quickly had commissioned to be made for the next time I visit your kingdom Princess. She did want to accompany me but unfortunately she got a bit caught up in some personal matters *ahem* a surprise visit from her lovely sister ” He replied

“Well hopefully she can join us next time, and I must agree with her, Luigi does indeed look lovely in white” the Princess said as she tried to stifle the small laugh trying to force itself out of her from the King’s last remark

“I am happy to help Princess, and send my thanks to the Queen for those beautiful gift Penguin, and your seamstresses as well of course” Luigi spoke out, seeing Peach struggle to keep in the laugh he too was holding back

“Anyways Luigi would you like to get yourself comfortable, you are free to do any pose you’d like” Peach affirmed before re-joining the other royals and taking a seat

Luigi laid down on his side on the chaise longue, facing towards them, he had his arm resting on the arm rest of the chaise, he put on a more still face that way it wouldn’t be hard to keep pulling the same expression, he decided to look around the room to find somewhere to rest his eyes on, and that’s when he made eye contact with King Boo

He was utterly entranced with Luigi, and when Luigi looked at him he had to fight away his boo urge to cover he eyes from embarrassment. Luigi just looked.. well gorgeous would be an understatement, he could feel his dead heart beat in his chest and his face flush as he saw a sly smirk cross Luigi’s face before it returned to its neutral look it had before, but it looked like Luigi had decided to rest his eyes for the hour long class.

As the class ended Luigi got up to stretch and talk with his friends before making his way over to the ghostly King who was busy cleaning up his supplies in a flustered rush, to only then be started by a tap on his shoulder

He looked down to see Luigi smiling in that beautiful white dress staring straight up at him

“ hey KB, did you enjoy your time here today? You look awfully flushed” Luigi teased

“ I did, not my preferred brand of paint but it will do for now, I’m fine I’ve just got ghost fever” the King lied

“Ghost fever huh? Well that’s too bad does that mean you can’t stick around for about longer? Peach has made cakes and biscuits for all of us, I’d really like you to stay but if you have to go it’s fine..” Luigi out on a fake disappointed tone, but nonetheless the King fell for it

“Well it’s not to bad! Just made me a bit flushed is all, I can stick around if you want, I’m in no rush” King Boo sputtered out trying to keep a calm tone but his mind was racing just a a bit to fast for him to catch up with

“Oh that would be amazing! Thank you so much” Luigi said as he returned to his usual cheery tone as he hugged the Boo’s arm

“Oh don’t thank me it’s nothing, plus I still sort of have to make it up to you after the whole peace thingy I made with E.Gadd” King Boo said, trying to play it off, he couldn’t help the look of destabilise on his face though when he manticores E.Gadd

“Well that goes both ways, I need to apologise too, I never meant to get your boo’s involved” Luigi said with a smile

“You were doing what you thought was the only thing you could do, I don’t really blame you for that. Anyway’s we can talk about that later, let’s not sour the mood” He replied

“Fair enough, though I have to ask, what do you think of my dress?” Luigi implored before stepping back and doing a little twirl for the Boo

“ You -IT looks amazing! It looks beautiful” The King tensed

“Do you think I pull it off? I’m not sure if white is really my colour” Luigi Pressed

“You look good” is what he said but what he actually wanted to say was “you look breath taking, I wasn’t aware anyone could look this handsome and beautiful at the same time” oh how nerves can get to a person

“Well I’m glad, it looks like the others are ready to go, you all packed up?” Luigi asked as he gazed around the room

“Yep all ready to go” King Boo said as he left his paint brushes to dry

“ come on then, oh and one more thing before I forget” Luigi stopped halfway to the door

“And what is that” King Boo quizzed with a small roll of the eyes and a questioning smirk

“Will you be joking us next time? Daisy gifted me a lovely sundress to wear for the next meeting” Luigi grinned as he turned around to face him

“Uh- yeah of course, I have to do kingly stuff now like attend meetings and such” King Boo said as a slight to it of purpled kissed his cheeks as he turned his head away

“Ah right, Kingly things, we’ll I look forward to seeing you a bit more often then, now come on” Luigi said as he turned around with a bit of blush made its way onto his own cheeks

….

Yeah I got a bit carried away I’m so sorry, sorry if the change in perspective was a bit confusing, but I hope you liked it!

I’m going to be posting a few of these Booigi prompts/ headcanons here as per the request of Skully, they are free to use/ to be added to. As much as I’d like to write these down in more detail for you all, I’m not as committed to writing stories as some of the other creators. I will still try and write a few of them but for now I’m leaving them here, free for anyone to use, and of course they can be converted into any ship your prefer (e.g. Bowser x Luigi, Mario x Peach, Luigi x Daisy ext…)but for now it’s written with my personal headcanons and from the viewpoint of booigi (king boo x Luigi)

@skulls-soul eat up

#super mario #mario bros #luigi #luigi nintendo #king boo #booigi #luigi super mario #king booigi #king boo come get your man #king boo x luigi #luigis mansion #luigi x king boo #luigi and king boo #king boo nintendo #king boo and luigi #my writing #kingbooigi #dark moon king boo

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