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bluewxrld07 · 3 days ago

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Lando Norris X F!Reader X Max Verstappen

Summary: Y/N has always loved hard and shows that through affection. Especially lately. She's a touch-starved kind of lovergirl, and Lando has always been okay with it. At least she thought so.

Warning(s): angst, tension, flangst, fluff

A/N: TAGLIST IS FULL!!!! I won't be able to tag anymore of you on it, I'm sorry, loves!! I wrote this entire fic listening to Olivia Rodrigo guys so have so much fun lol. I love how much you guys are loving this fic and my writing, it truly means the world!! Enjoy this for now, friends :)

Things had been different.

As normal as they could be now, in the moment, but still different.

People had begun to notice that Lando and Y/N had not been seen with one another.

The pair had never really called it quits, but they both truly knew it was done the second she walked out that door at the Canadian GP. That's what hurt the most.

Lando knew better than most that she would come around when she was ready. That she would say her piece when she felt it was a better time. He knew better than to push her. He knew that now at least. It didn't stop the constant messaging he did the night of their fight, he couldn't help it.

His emotions got the best of him that night, and they continued to get the best of him. When it came to the after-party post the F1 movie premiere, he couldn't stop thinking about Lewis' words.

It didn't stop him from messaging Max that night of the premiere, asking if it were true.

You have a lot of fuckin nerve to be sending me a message right now

That's all he received from the Redbull driver, nothing more, nothing less. Lando didn't know if he should be worried or have no right to be upset knowing what he knows now.

He didn't even think Max would send a response back. If anything, he expected a middle finger emoji if Max did respond.

He definitely couldn't be mad in this very moment he woke up in.

A sigh left his lips as he got dressed in his hotel room, pulling on his clothes for the flight back to Monaco. Too tired and distraught to even worry about the state of his hair, throwing a hat on over it with his hood.

He grabbed his things, setting down a note on the nightstand. His eyes stayed on the familiar blonde head, Magui, who was his ex-girlfriend, who lay bare on his bed, fast asleep.

Without a second look, he had made his way out the door, and out towards the car waiting for his arrival.

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There was a knock on Y/N's bathroom door, the girl mumbling a 'come in' not too long, Max peering his head in. He looked at her in amusement, opening the door wider as he stood there leaning against the doorframe.

Y/N sat on her counter, legs criss-crossed in front of the sink, hair sitting in curlers as she was doing up her makeup, one of her playlists playing softly in the back. She looks back at him through the mirror, a soft and genuine smile forming on her lips. "What?"

He shook his head, snapping out of the daze he caught himself in as he looked at her with his arms crossed.

"Nothing. Do you want anything while I'm out?" Max asks her, and she nods, looking back at him.

"Can you get more bubbly water?" her voice softly responds, Max nodding at her. "The orange cream?"

She nods with a hum. "Anything else, or just that?"

"No, just that. I don't need anything else for now, especially since we have to leave for Austria in a few days," she explains, turning her head back to finish doing her makeup.

"Got it," he hums before walking up behind her. His arms wrap around her waist, causing her to flinch lightly, the action not going ignored by Max. He frowns.

Ever since they'd gotten home, she had been acting differently. Acting off, less touchy, more faded.

That was almost two weeks ago.

Max hated it. He hated this new her; it wasn't like her at all. He could tell she craved to be touched, to be shown affection in some sort of way. To hug everyone she came into contact with, because it was a normal reflex of hers.

He had watched how she would go up to hug some of the crew, only to hesitate and make it look like she was just stretching instead of pulling them into hugs.

Or when Max would come by to watch a movie with her, to keep her distracted from falling into the social media craze going on.

He could see how her body would twitch to reach out for him across the couch. Max is only sitting far from her to give her space, to not overwhelm her.

Then, when he would finally give up, pull her into his embrace, he would feel the instant relaxation her body would. Like she was melting into his own body.

This wasn't her. This wasn't Y/N.

Instead of arguing, as now wasn't the best time for it, he placed a kiss on her head and hugged her tightly. Careful to not mess her concentration up as she did her eyeshadow.

"I'll be back in a bit, yeah? Then off to La Rascasse?" he says, his eyes connecting with hers in the mirror.

"Sounds good to me," she agrees, Max pressing one more kiss to her head before leaving the bathroom. He heads towards her hallway to slip on his shoes and grab his keys.

The house becomes silent after he leaves, Y/N feeling weird now that she is on her own. Her music was playing softly in the background of the bathroom, echoing along the walls. Something in her body felt off when Max wasn't there.

Y/N hums to herself as she leans back to look at her eye makeup from a distance, nodding once to herself in satisfaction before moving over to put on her lashes.

As she begins to reach over the counter to grab her lash supplies, her phone began to buzz next to her.

She looks down at the name, only frowning as she reads the name across the screen. She debates with herself on answering. Deciding to slide it over to answer.

Y/N brings up the phone to her ear. "Hello?"

"Y/N, hey."

"Hey Charles, what's going on? You okay?"

"I'm alright, I just needed to make you aware of something," he says slowly, his tone sounding unnerving. "I think it's right to let you know, so you can sort out the options."

She frowns at his words.

"Um, yeah, okay. What does that mean?"

"Have you spoken to Lando?"

Hearing his name was easier than it was a couple of weeks prior. Y/N not freezing as soon as she hears his name off Charles' lips.

"He's been trying to message me. I just don't respond. I don't know if I'm ready for that yet."

She hears him sigh on the other end. She can imagine he is probably running a hand over his face as the breath sounds muffled. "Well, this might be a deal breaker. I think you deserve to know, in case things change between you two."

"Charles, I love you, but please spit it out. I'm not going to break more than I already have."

"Y/N," he starts, as if he is trying to find the words. "He's been seeing Magui again. They left together after the premiere, and then she's been around our group a lot more."

Y/N doesn't really know how to react in that moment. She thought it would break her to hear the news, but she didn't feel her insides churn. She didn't feel like screaming, just felt like her throat went dry.

The girl hadn't even noticed how long it had been until Charles said her name, making her clear her throat and shake her head slightly.

"You okay?" he asks.

She didn't know at that moment. She wasn't exactly peachy, but she wasn't crying on the floor, unable to breathe. Not like she would've been if it were two weeks ago when she heard the news.

"Fine. Yeah, I'm fine. Just don't really know what to say."

"I'm sorry. I just figured you needed to know. Alex and I really thought it would be wrong if you found out by her being seen around the paddock one day," he admits, making her nod with a hum. She began to pinch at her skin not too long after. "I know this is probably a dumb question to ask, but does this mean you guys are over? Like really over?"

Hearing the question in real words made it feel surreal. It made it sound official. Not that they ever really did vocalize it, but deep down, they both had known. She had known she wouldn't have been able to act like it never happened. Like he never said what he did.

"No. I don't think so," she finally says, pinching her thighs as she bites her lip.

Most would've said she was being dramatic or inconsiderate. What they didn't know was that it was way deeper than people knew.

She was never allowed to show her feelings, express them, or talk about them growing up with her grandparents. They absolutely hated it; they always said it would make her look weak.

It wasn't until she had met Max that she realized showing and sharing emotions was not a bad thing to do. It was a good thing. He was the reason she showed more love, more affection, more emotion with others.

Max showed her it was okay to be herself. He was never ashamed of her.

Lando had been skeptical of it at the start, shrugging it off. Always asking her why she was so touchy. Y/N never thought anything of it, never looked more into the way he gave her weird looks when she explained why.

When Max never questioned it. Not once. He embraced it, which to this day still shocks her, as he is not the type of guy who likes showing affection like that. He liked keeping the mysterious and dark persona.

That's why people said she was like the sunshine to him. She never had to hesitate around Max. When he was mad, he never pushed her away.

Always made her feel like she was enough.

Oh fuck.

Charles and she didn't talk for much longer after that, only asking when and where they would be once they got to the club later that evening. Y/N's mind racing as time passed.

It wasn't long before Max was back, the girl hearing him announce his presence when walking through the door.

"Schat, where'd you go?" he asks, Y/N realizing he had walked by the bathroom.

"Bedroom! Trying to put on my dress," she says more to herself as she huffs while trying to zip the side of it up her torso. "Neuken, come on," she mutters to herself, her tongue sticking out as she tries to zip up the side.

Max walks in, chuckling as he watches her struggle. He couldn't help but take in how pretty she looked in that moment.

The dress fit her form perfectly, despite her curses and arguments with the zipper; he thought she was glowing. "Wil je hulp lieverd?" (You want help, dear?) he chuckles at her, earning a knowing look from her.

"What do you think, wijsneus?"

Max puts his hands up in surrender before making his way over to her, bending over slightly to be at the height of her issue.

"Arms up, mooi meisje," he says softly, his head now closer to her own as she finds herself looking at him. She does as she's told, lifting her arms up as his hands smoothly help the zipper glide up her skin.

Goosebumps rose on her skin as he finished, Max keeping his eyes on the zipper in concentration.

"You sure love to stare, don't you?" he jokes, earning an eyeball from her. Max chuckles, hearing her swear at him in Dutch. Max looks down at the ground next to them, seeing her shoes sitting there.

Max goes to bend down, grabbing the heels before turning back towards her, fully kneeling in front of her. She frowns.

"What're you doing?" she asks. "You don't have to help me, I can do it."

Max tuts at her as she tries to grab her heels from him.

"Lemme help," he offers, giving her a look. She shoots one back.

"I don't wanna be-"

"I swear if you say that you don't want to be suffocating one more time, we're going to have bigger issues," his voice more stern and serious in that moment. She doesn't miss the way his eyes had something fiery behind them.

"But Max-"

"Enough."

"Max-"

"Y/N I said enough, liefje."

Y/N nods slowly, knowing better then to test Max's patience, as it was something that wore thing very quickly with him.

He pats his shoulders. "Put your hands here for support," he tells her while leaning down to grab her left foot and place her heel on. Y/N softly places her hands on him, keeping her grip somewhat firm. He began to wrap the straps around her calves, Y/N not missing the way his fingertips softly would come into contact with her skin.

It made it feel different. Weird. It was a feeling she wasn't complaining about, that was for sure.

He sets her leg down, then grabs her other foot to do the same process. Y/N feels herself gulping every so often as she finds herself craving his touch more and more.

She told herself it was because she was touch-starved. She wasn't as touchy anymore as she once was. It was the itch coming back as she tried to hold back from being who she normally was.

Max finishes tying the straps together, his eyes looking up at hers to see her looking down at him with an expression he could read better than she could.

Y/N was aroused. She didn't even know it. He could tell.

So instead of saying some snide comment, he decides to play into it. His eyes never left her own as he brought his lips down to the inside of her thigh by her knee, letting them run featherlight against her skin. He then decided to place a slow and light kiss onto the skin just above the inside of her knee.

He doesn't miss the way her chest moved up and down a bit quicker than normal, Max letting a small smirk form on his lip as he pulled away. He stood up shortly after, placing a hand on her waist as he placed a kiss on her head.

"Let's get going before we hear it from Daniel for being late."

She stood there dumbfounded, unsure of what had just happened. Her body tingling in a way she was not used to feeling. Like she wanted more of not just someone's touch, but Max's touch.

What was happening?

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Once they had arrived, Max didn't hesitate to grab her hand tightly to weave through the buzzing crowds inside the darkened atmosphere.

Y/N kept her distance when they approached the table, only doing small hugs with everyone she greeted. Not wanting to overstep in their space.

It wasn't until Daniel had come up to hug her, frowning when she gave him a shy side-hug. He shook his head. "No, you bring it all in. Come here," he chuckles to her, pulling Y/N in for the biggest bear hug. She felt herself relax as her arms wrapped around his torso, squeezing him back just as much as he did her.

Max kept his gaze on her as he watched her face contort from anxious to content in a matter of seconds.

Once Daniel had broken away from her, she didn't hesitate to wrap her arms around Charles in a tight hug. A Y/N kind of hug. Charles didn't hesitate to wrap her up in his embrace, humming with a laugh.

"There's the Y/N I know," he jokes as he pulls away. "Always sharing love with everyone. How it should be."

He nods at her slowly in understanding, Y/N giving him a sheepish smile.

"Wait, did Charles get a Y/N hug? Move over, it's my turn!" Lewis jokes before cutting in to let Y/N wrap her arms around him tightly.

"I've missed these. It hasn't been the same," he groans. Y/N rolls her eyes.

"Such a drama queen."

Lewis pulls away and looks at her. "I'm serious. Your physical affection is like the entire grid's depression cure. Never change."

Y/N lets his words sink in, nodding at him before going to sit down on one of the couches next to Max. He leaned over to her.

"See? Everyone loves it. Loves you," he mumbles into her ear. "Get that nonsense out of your head. Own who you are," he assures her, pulling back to give her a knowing look. She just stares back at him, his closeness making her heart beat faster.

"I'll try."

"And trying is enough."

She smiles at him before he kisses her temple, turning to start a conversation with Daniel and George. Y/N had ended up talking with Alexandra and Kika for a bit, her mind staying distracted as they conversed.

The night had dragged on, filled with dancing, drinks, trips to the DJ booth and appetizers being ordered to their section.

Y/N had felt relaxed for the first time in days.

She had loosened up enough to go dance with the girls, feeling her throat drying up from the lack of water in her system.

Her hand finds Kika's, squeezing it to get her attention. "I'm going to go get some water, and then step outside," she tells her, watching her friend nod with a smile.

Y/N went and grabbed a water from one of the bartenders, then made her way towards the balcony where a staircase led to the rooftop. She stuck with standing out on the balcony, not wanting everyone to send out a search party if she was gone for too long.

She let herself lean over the balcony, somewhat resting her aching feet in the heels she wore. A sigh left her lips as the wind blew into her face.

"You look gorgeous," a low voice booms behind her, causing her to whip her head around. Her breathing stilled.

Lando stood there with his hands in his pockets, his button-up halfway undone, and a pair of black jeans donning his legs. He had a somewhat nervous and sheepish expression on his face, like he was preparing himself for her to not give him the time of day.

When she said nothing and turned back to the view in front of her, Lando took that as his chance to take the spot next to her.

He leaned over the railing, lacing both of his hands together as his elbows propped him over it slightly. He let out a huff, his eyes searching the view in front of them.

"How have you been?" he asked her, keeping his gaze ahead.

She nods slowly, pursing her lips together. "Good."

Lando hums with a nod. "That's good."

"What do you want, Lando?" she asks softly, her tone sounding defeated as she begins to pinch at her skin. He lets his head fall to look at his hands.

"I want to say I'm sorry," he starts, hearing her scoff. "I know it's late, first off, and that you don't want to give me the time of day, second off. I just couldn't keep it contained any longer."

"Is that it?"

"No," he sighs. "I regret what I said. Every single day since then. You're not anything I said. You're the complete opposite."

She looks at him, seeing his jaw clench and unclench before he turns his head to look at her. "You're loving. You're caring. You give love to everyone around you because that's just who you are. You're a giver."

Her gaze was blank, but he could tell she was preventing herself from lighting him up. Because she was better than that. Even though they both knew he deserved it. "I was angry and mad and upset about how the race ended for me. I took it out on you, and that's not okay. I'm sorry. I'm truly sorry," he says, his tone uneven and cracking every so often as he turns his whole body towards hers.

Y/N crosses her arms, feeling her guard slip lightly. Then the reminder of the phone call with Charles earlier echoes in her brain. She looks down at the ground for a moment. She then looks back up at him.

"Thank you. For apologizing," she starts, her voice like silk. Lando feeling his body physically relaxing. "But you chose to wrap yourself around Magui for the time being."

Lando felt his face falter, his stomach drop to his ass. He frowns. "How-how did you-"

"Charles thought I should be aware. In case things would have changed between us," she admits. "I get that you were feeling a lot of guilt and regret. But seeing her after what she's done to you showed me something else in you. I can't trust that."

Lando nods at her words, letting his head fall to look at his feet.

"I do care about you Lando. I always will, that'll never change," she assures him. "But I need someone who won't make me question my worth when things get tough. Or say things in the heat of the moment that cause breaks like these."

He nods. "I didn't mean to hurt you. I hope you know that."

She nods, giving him a shy and sad smile. "I know that now. But you can't turn back time."

"I know," he agrees. "Can I at least hug you? It's been killing me."

Y/N stops herself from chuckling at his words, nodding slowly. Lando doesn't waste another second slithering his arms around her waist to pull her into his embrace. She wraps her arms around his neck, the affection feeling different between them now. More platonic than romantic. "I hope she treats you better this time," Y/N admits as they pulled away.

He shrugs. "Seems like she's changed. I don't want to take any risks yet."

The pair soon makes their way back inside, Y/N looking around for a familiar Dutch driver. She somewhat feels her body react before her emotions, stopping in her tracks.

He was across the bar, talking and chatting closely with his ex girlfriend, whom was getting closer than Y/N liked to admit.

She didn't understand why it was making her insides churn. Why she was glaring at the two long enough to make Lando chuckle at her expression.

"I wouldn't stress about that," Lando says, making her snap out of her daze and frown at him.

"What do you mean? Worry about what?"

Lando laughs harder at her dumbfounded state. He motions towards Max and Kelly. "That. The pair you're basically digging graves for with your eyes."

Y/N shook her head in confusion. "I don't know what that's supposed to mean."

Lando can see the genuine confusion in her eyes, the Brit realizing she hasn't come to her senses yet. He knew Max would probably kill him when he found out the next thing he let slip before he could control it.

"Max is so in love with you," he admits, making them both widen their eyes. Lando for being shocked that he just said that, Y/N for hearing the words that left his mouth.

"I- He- What?" she sputters, Lando groaning as he runs a hand through his hair.

"Well fuck," Lando chuckles to himself nervously. He then sighs in defeat. "No going back now. But yeah, Max loves you. Always has."

Y/N shook her head. "No. No way. Good joke," she chuckles before walking back towards their section of the room. Lando followed after her as she marched her way towards Daniel and Lewis.

The pair smiled warmly at her, then they frowned, seeing the determination and shock on her face.

"You alright?" Daniel asks once she gets to them.

"Is it true?" she asks, the boys looking at her confused.

It wasn't long until Lando came up behind her, a somewhat anxious look on his face. Lewis scowls at him. "What did you say to her?" he whips, making her put her hands up in defense.

"He didn't mean to, don't yell at him," she defends, not missing the way shock is all over their faces. "Although he might need help escaping after Max finds out."

"Okay, seriously, what did you tell her? Max already has a target on your head," Daniel groans while rubbing a hand over his face.

"Max is in love with me?"

Lewis choked on his drink, Daniel choked on air, and Lando rubbed the back of his neck. The two older boys look at Lando. "I'd get a head start on running if I were you," Lewis says, Lando letting out a groan.

"So it's true?" Y/N asks, her tone softer as she crossed her arms.

They look back down at her before Lewis sighs with a nod. "Yeah, it's true."

Y/N didn't know what to think, or much less what to do in that moment.

A part of her was confused, while a bigger part of her felt something different. Almost as if it were relief. Like hearing those words brought her entire body into a calmer realm.

"I think you made her short-circuit," Daniel says as he leans over to Lewis. Y/N gives them a look. She then turns to Lando, putting a hand on his arm.

"They're right," she says with a nod. "You're gonna want to get a headstart on running right now."

"Y/N!" Lando groans while running both hands through his hair.

"I'm sorry! It's true!"

"She's right, mate. Espcially after he almost bashed your head into the wall at the dinner last week-"

"He did what?!" She snaps, the boys all flinching at her tone, the dutch accent coming out more evidently in that moment.

"To be fair he deserved it after everything that happened on race day," Lewis says while pointing at Lando, whom agrees shockingly enough.

"Besides the point," Daniel cuts in. "What're you thinking? What's happening in that brain of yours?"

She shook her head. "Everything. Nothing. I don't even know," she sputters out, rubbing her forehead. Her head snaps over to Max, whom was still happily talking and laughing with Kelly.

Before she realized it, her insides began to churn again, eyes squinting harshly their way.

"Wow, jealous much?" Lewis jokes, making her smack his arm.

"I don't get jealous."

"You do," Lando admits. "You are right now."

She glares at him. "Shouldn't you be halfway across Europe by now?"

His face fell at her words, and Daniel and Lewis both snickered at her words. He rolled his eyes a second later, putting a hand on her torso and squeezing it lightly.

She sees Kelly's hand reach up to caress his shoulder, which made the boys all mumble out 'uh-oh's. Y/N decides to fully turn her body towards their direction, crossing her arms while keeping her stare directly on them.

"Are you gonna glare them to death?" Daniel jokes, Lewis and Lando immediately catching onto what she was doing.

"Just wait for it," Lando trails off.

A few moments later, Max chuckled at something Kelly said. He turned his head towards their section while his eyes searched, then immediately froze when he caught Y/N staring.

It was a look he knew all too well.

"You Dutch women are scary," Daniel chuckles while shaking his head. "How does he sense that?"

Lewis chuckles. "It's the face everyone fears on the grid. You just sense it before you know she's there. It's scary being on the receiving side of her stare."

Max's entire face fell, shame contorting into an ashamed expression. His expression soon hardened, then darkened fully when he caught Lando standing next to her. He was standing way too close for his liking.

What made Max drop everything he was doing, Kelly not even existing in his mind anymore, or in front of him for that matter, was seeing Lando's hand on her waist.

Max didn't even acknowledge Kelly after that moment, just leaving her mid-sentence as he made his way to the group.

Y/N stood her ground, not flinching as he got closer.

"Why're you near her?" Max's voice boomed as he got closer to Lando, but he almost tripped over his own feet when she stepped in front of Lando. His entire demeanor softens, but then goes to complete embarrassment as he meets her glare.

"He and I are fine. We sorted it out. Don't start," she explains. Max was about to argue with her. Until she raised her brows, as if saying, 'try me'. He huffs, not hesitating to nod at her words.

He then glares back at Lando. "You're still in deep shit with me," he points out, Lando pursing his lip with a nod.

"He's about to be in deeper shit," Daniel mumbles with a snort, Lewis smacking his arm hard. Max frowns as Y/N gives Daniel the same scary look.

"Not funny. Sorry."

"What's he mean?" Max asks.

"Doesn't matter," she rejects, shaking her head. "What were you and-"

"Don't change the subject, what're they talking about? What did Lando do?" he argues back.

Y/N shook her head. "We're not doing this here."

Max turns his gaze back to Lando, hardening as he looks. Lando leaned to Y/N before squeezing her side. "That's my cue," he says. "Good luck."

With that, Lando's pace quickens as he leaves the space while Y/N lets out an internal groan at Max. "Do you always have to go Mad Max on people?"

"When it comes to you, yes," he says with no hesitation in his tone. "Now what are those two talking about?"

She looks over at Daniel and Lewis for help, the two boys putting their hands up in defense. "I'm gonna go find Charles," Lewis says before leaving.

"I'm gonna get another drink," Daniel says, leaving shortly after Lewis.

She lets her mouth drop in awe, muttering a 'klootzakken' as she watches them leave.

Her gaze turned back up to Max, who stood towering over her. His look hard and only focused on her. She now very aware of how close he was.

"Let's go then, shall we?" he says, running his tongue over his bottom lip.

"Fine."

It wasn't long until they were outside of the venue, Max helping her into his car before shutting the door behind her and making his way over to his side.

The first few minutes in the car were silent, Max's jaw clenching as Y/N kept pinching at her wrists.

It didn't take an ounce of hesitation for Max to reach over with his free hand and lace it with hers. "Pinch it," he tells her, Y/N looking at him for a second before sighing.

"Why were you with her?" she asks softly, Max taking note of how defeated she sounded.

He didn't hesitate to answer. "She was telling me about P. How she was doing," he explains. "Then she told me how much her and P missed having me around."

That made her scoff. "Yeah, she misses using you for her advantage," she says more to herself, but loud enough for him to hear.

He smacks her thigh. "No need to be jealous, schat. Enough of that."

"I'm not jealous. Why does everyone think I'm jealous?" She groans, Max trying to hide the amused and smug smile on his face.

"Because you are. Your telltale signs aren't very discreet, honing."

"Because I'm not jealous," she scoffs, keeping her gaze out the window.

"So if I went home with her, you wouldn't have been upset with me?" he tests, making her movements on his hand stop. Max chuckles lightly to himself as he squeezes her hand.

"Exactly."

"Whatever."

Max frowns at her tone, turning to look at her for a second. "Hey, no. Don't do that."

"Do what?"

"Shut down," he says before looking back at the road. "I would never go home with her. She's not the one I want. She never was."

Y/N stays quiet, knowing she couldn't trust her emotions. Everything heightening as every moment passed.

It was quiet for another moment, before Max spoke up once more.

"So are you going to tell me what they were all talking about earlier?" he trails off.

"I don't think you're gonna want to hear that. Trust me," she chuckles while shaking her head.

"Try me, honing."

She huffs. "If I tell you, then you can't kill any of them. Not even Lando."

Y/N didn't miss the way his jaw clenched and eyes hardened at Lando's name, only nodding after. "You have my word."

She looks at him, her fingers playing with his hand once more.

"Are you in love with me?"

Her body is jolted forward in a harsh move, due to Max slamming on the brakes for a split second at her words. The tires are heard screeching as the car comes to a halt.

Y/N looks behind them, checking to make sure he didn't just accidentally brake-check someone. Taking the clear sign of no car honking behind him as the first hint, then seeing nobody was behind them for blocks.

She then whips her head over to Max, whose eyes are now wide with shock, one hand gripping the steering wheel while the other is now clutching onto her waist for safety.

"So I'm guessing by the reaction you just had that it's true," she says slowly, watching his face contort into all sorts of emotions.

He stayed silent, Y/N seeing his Adam's apple bob a few times before he began to accelerate the car once again. "Max," she says. He stays silent still. "Max Emilian."

"You weren't supposed to find out. Not like this at least."

She frowns at his words. "Elaborate, please? When was I gonna find out?"

She watched as he pursed his lips before biting them every so often.

"Max if you don't start talking-"

"I didn't want you to find out. Not with everything fresh with Lando," he admits, shaking his head as he pulls the car into the apartment garage. "I didn't want you thinking I was taking advantage of you when I just wanted to be there, just as much as you are with me."

Her face softened, seeing that it really was making him feel guilty. Seeing that she had to find out amid everything she had been dealing with for the last few weeks.

Before she can ask him anything further, he puts the car in park and whips his door open before closing it with a slam.

She doesn't miss the way he still makes his way around the car to her side, opening her door softly as he helps her out. She could tell he was ready to murder the boys, but he kept his composure around her.

They walked up to her apartment quietly, the tension rising as they got closer to her door. Y/N practically being able to feel Max's frustration radiate off his skin. She unlocked her door, walking inside as he followed shortly after.

He shuts the door behind him before huffing, his eyes looking to see Y/N standing there with her arms crossed. Her expression basically begging for answers.

Max rubs his forehead. "I'm not getting out of this am I?"

"Begin niet, Max." (Don't start, Max.)

He could tell by her tone that this wasn't the time to joke.

The man lets out a sigh, letting his eyes gaze into her own across the room. "Yes," he chokes out. "I'm in love with you. So in love that it hurts my chest."

Y/N lets her stance somewhat falter, her arms uncrossing. "Oh Max," she softly answers, seeing the pain in his eyes. Like he felt guilty for telling her.

"I have since the day you stood up for me at the Go-kart championship with my dad," he chuckles dryly to himself. "It was that day I told myself this girl has some spark in her. Playing with fire with no remorse. She's it for me," he half-heartedly jokes, but meaning every word. "I'm in love with you to the point where all I care about seeing is you happy. Even if that's not with me."

Her brows furrow. "What?"

He shrugs in defeat. "When Lando came to me after your first date with him, I could tell he was good for you. Same with you for him. Yeah it hurt like a fucking scooter to the ankle, but you were happy. That's what I cared about," he explains. "So if you two decide to fix things, and it makes you happy, then I'll be okay with that. I'll still probably give him a run for his money every so often, but if that's what you want."

Y/N was about to speak up, but then he says one more thing to her.

"I didn't want you to think I'm taking advantage of you. Of stealing you away after what you went through. I'm better than that, but I didn't like seeing you not be yourself. I hated it and hated him for that. I wanted to be there giving you the support and tough love you needed to heal and make the right decision," he admits once more. "So if he's still it for you, then I'll live with that. He just better not ruin his chances again."

Y/N stays silent for a moment, just in case he had anything further to say, soon seeing he was finished. She kept her arms crossed.

"You know, I have been fighting with myself all week. About going back to Lando. Working things out," she starts. Max feels his heart beat faster every second that passes. "But then there were small things I noticed. From not just these past few weeks, but the last decade. Little things you've done, no questions asked."

He just keeps his gaze on her. "When I was on the phone with Charles today, I came to the realization of why I've always been picky with my relationships," she says, laughing dryly to herself. "Because they weren't you."

Max feels his mouth open just slightly, as if giving him the lightest breath of fresh air from her words.

"Liefje." (Darling)

She nods, more to herself as if confirming it to her mind. She had feelings for Max. She wanted Max.

"I can't promise to jump into things right now," she adds. "But it doesn't mean I'm not willing to try seeing where this goes with you. I really want to. More than I think I can admit."

Max smiles are her softly. "I can work with slow."

She smiles at him as he advances towards her. He cautiously wraps his arms around her waist, watching her soften into his touch instead of freezing or jolting at it.

It was a work in progress.

"Can I at least kiss you? Or is that too fast?"

"Kus me maar, jij zachtaardige reus." (Kiss me, you gentle giant) she chuckles, watching his smile grow slowly as he leans in.

He didn't waste a second longer

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

A/N: Ahhh, that's part three! How're we feeling? What's the vibe for everyone? Satisfied? Lemme know, I'm intrigued hehe!!

She's a long one, but she is here! I hope you all enjoyed!

I may or may not have an alternate ending for Lando in the works?? What do we think??

Vote below ;)

See you soon, friends!

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

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#lando norris imagine #lando norris #ln4 #lando imagine #lando x reader #lando norris fanfic #lando norris angst #max vertsappen fic #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen #mv1 #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen angst

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tokoyamisstuff · 1 day ago

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Hwang In-ho x gn Circle Guard! Reader

Why did it take 6 months until the Frontman gave 222's baby to his brother?

just a quick drabble from the top of my head, idk it's 2am leave me alone

"Take off your mask."

A shaky breath escapes your lips while doing as you were told, sweat still dripping from your forehead from earier labour.

Now that the games have ended and the protocol for erasing all evidence has been completed, you assumed it was about time for the usual: One last, passionate moment spent together before you and your superior would part ways for yet another year.

Almost automatically, you fondle with the zipper of your suit, about to present yourself for him like so many times before.

"No" he stops you immediately, raising his hand in a rather appeasing than commanding manner. "Don't."

Before you could even react, the man turned around, fondling with a piece of furniture you didn't recognize despite being invited to his quarters on the regulary.

And then, out of the black box no one would assume was a bassinet, he took the last thing you'd expect to see ever again.

"Is that-"

"Yes, it is" he answers the obvious, beckoning you over while cradling the newborn in his arms with a tenderness you weren't aware he was capable of.

For a while the two of you would remain like this, standing besides each other as you undeservingly watched in awe of this peaceful innocence born in the midst of sin and despair.

In-ho observes intently how your eyes light up when the baby's little fingers wrap around yours, feeling the corners of his mouth etch into a smile he had long since forsaken.

Many questions were burning on your tongue, most of them concerning the child's future, but also about the Frontman himself that remained an enigma to you even after all those years. Because as intimate as your relationship was, it was also strictly physical, and in all other aspects he prefered to keep a 'professional' distance.

"Did you ever want to have children?"

You blink up at him like a deer in the headlights, unsure whether it was a trick question. After all, he was never interested in your thoughts, or feelings in particular.

"I heard you volunteered to feed her" he inquires further, gently wrapping a blanket around the baby after placing it back into the bed.

Sure, you weren't opposed to the idea itself, but with the circumstances your life had developed, you never truly allowed yourself to even consider it.

"I'm a murderer" you state matter-of-factly, facing downwards in a mixture of shame and bewilderment. "I shouldn't involve myself with anyone."

"Same goes for me" he retorts in his usual callous tone, standing so close that the back of your hand barely touches his. "But I was told to deal with the baby as I see fit."

"So...have you decided yet what to do with it?"

The Frontman's features always seemed as much of a mask as the angular black shapes of his attire, although right now a hint of melancholy slipped right through. "I...have someone in mind. But not yet, not while it's still so dependent."

Before you could even think of a possible answer to continue the conversation, you felt his fingers intertwine with yours, eyes still locked on the baby stirring contently in it's sleep.

"You still live alone, right?" You nod. It's not a question, it's a fact. He knows even the most trivial details about your life outside of this job, and unbeknownst to you he's way more involved than he should be.

In-ho remains silent, chooses not to reveal what's going on in the inside, about how the current games reopened old wounds and got him to question simply everything.

"Just a few months" he squeezes your hand ever so slightly, gaze darting between you and the newborn with a fondness that almost startled you. "I need to settle some other things, so...I could use some help caring for the child."

It sounds like he tries to convince only himself, for the power imbalance between you two made that proposition more order than offer anyways.

Still, here was method to his madness, well aware that you both would inevitably taint this symbol of hope shall you get too attached for too long.

In-ho leans to your height, planting a lingering hiss to your temple before resting his forehead against yours. You crack a meek smile, since this brief imitation of normalcry was the first thing worth looking forwards to in an eternity.

"Alright, then let's...try to enjoy this while it lasts."

#squid game #the frontman #hwang in-ho #squid game season 3 #squid game spoilers #frontman x reader #hwang in-ho x reader #writing #reader insert #fanfiction #oneshot #hwang inho #hwang inho x reader #front man #front man x reader

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ariestrxsh · 1 day ago

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sugardaddy!matt x bratty!reader

✧˚ · .⭒content warning: smut, financial domination, daddy kink, teasing, public/dressing room sex

✧˚ · .⭒summary: matt takes you on a shopping spree, and you don't do a very good job at behaving yourself!

gif by @/vxnitra

dividers by @/kodaswrld

album concept inspired by @/delilahsturniolo and @/y2kstarr

[ click to return to track list ]

Payday

Matt trailed closely behind you with your shopping bags in hand as you bounced around from store to store with his credit card tucked into your back pocket. You dragged him into another high-end clothing department, filling your arms with almost every sparkly item that caught your eye.

"What do you think of this, Matt?" You asked him, emerging from the dressing room with a new dress on. It had everything that Matt loved about dresses - a low neck line, tight around your waist, and a slit that showed off your thighs.

His gaze wandered the curves of your body, taking you in before he locked onto your eyes with an almost serious look on his face. "I think you'd better pick out which things you wanna buy soon, because I don't know if I can wait until we get home," he said under his breath.

You giggled. One of your favorite things to do was tease Matt in public. "Wait! I still have to get some new bras and panties."

"Of course you do," Matt replied, already picturing you in them while prancing around his house or wearing them to a fancy dinner and flashing him under the table.

You sauntered up to the register, laying down your pile of clothes down in front of you. Matt's eyes flickered back and forth between you and the total dollar amount on the screen that continued to jump every time the cashier would scan something new.

When the man behind the counter finished ringing up your new wardrobe and read you off the final price, you hissed through your teeth and winced. "I didn't spend too much, did I?" You batted your long lashes in Matt's direction with a little pout on your lips, knowing he was getting off on every penny you spent.

"Of course not. Anything for you, baby," he cooed, softly running his hand along the small of your back.

"You're the best, daddy," you whispered into his ear. You handed the plastic card over to the cashier, seductively glancing back at Matt with a smug smile on your face.

"No, you're the best," he whispered back, his hand slowly dropping to your ass and giving it a squeeze through your low-rise jeans. You smiled over at him with a lustful glint in your eye, making his heart race.

Matt loved this ritual. He liked buying you gifts, and he especially liked when you'd buy yourself gifts with his money.

You handed him the bag, joining the other several bags he had on his arms. The two of you stopped at the car on the way to the next store so Matt could carry more for you, and then you both headed towards the entrance of Victoria's secret.

Matt's cock was already beginning to twitch at the thought of you spending his hard earned money on silk and lace that you'd later adorn yourself with and show off to him. Your fingers gently brushed across the racks of fabric that you walked past on your way to the back of the store.

Matt watched as you picked out a few bras, holding each one up in front of your chest and asking Matt what he thought of each one. "How do you think my tits would look in this?" You asked, looking at him with your big, doe eyes.

His gaze darkened, and he bit down in his lip when you presented him with a black see-through push-up bra with a bow on the front. "I wanna see you try this one on," Matt said in a low, seductive voice as he reached up and rubbed the fabric between his fingers.

Your gaze fell to the tent forming in his jeans, and a smug smirk tugged at the corner of your lip. You loved humiliating him and forcing him to visualize you naked in public. It was one of the most effective ways to push his buttons.

"Be right back, daddy," you innocently said, disappearing into the dressing room and peering over your shoulder at him before you shut the door.

Matt waited patiently on the other side of the dressing room door until he heard you begin to fiddle with the lock again. He glanced up from his phone as you were poking your head out, glancing in both directions to make sure no one could see you besides Matt.

"Okay, what do you think?" You smirked, stepping out and showing Matt how you looked. Your breasts with on display, the bra accentuating the shape of them and exaggerating your cleavage.

"Wow, you look fucking incredible," Matt gasped, taking a step towards you, drinking in the view of your nipples peeking through the transparent fabric. "Yeah? You think so?" You wondered, grabbing your tits and pushing them together.

"You're making it really hard to wait until we get home," Matt said softly, reaching out and placing a hand on your waist. "Then let's not wait until we get home," you teased, giggling into his ear.

Before you knew it, Matt was shuffling into the dressing room with you, his wandering hands pawing at you. After he swiftly locked the door, he spun you around and started kissing your neck and grabbing your breasts. You softly moaned, pressing your backside into his hardening cock.

"You're killin' me, you little tease," Matt rasped into the crook of your neck as he started fiddling with the button on your jeans. He stripped them off of you along with your undies. You started to reach behind you to unclasp your bra, but Matt stopped you. "Leave it on."

Matt undid his own jeans as well, his cock springing out with an urgency. He placed one hand on your waist to steady you and used the other to grip your thigh, holding it up to give him better access to you.

You placed one palm up against the side of the dressing room to balance yourself and one over your mouth to keep yourself from making noise. Matt positioned behind you, lining his leaking tip up with your entrance.

Your eyes rolled to the back or your head as Matt pushed it in, your walls fluttering around his thick cock. He watched you in the mirror as you tried your hardest not to make any noise, your expression contorting in pleasure.

A small moan threatened to escape from you as Matt started to thrust into you. You could hear other customers shuffling around in the store, all of them completely unaware as to what was happening behind your dressing room door.

"Feel you squeezin' around me already," Matt said in a low voice, his breath tickling your neck and sending all electrifying jolt of energy through you that had your hair standing on end. He sped up the movement of his hips, hitting your gspot with every deep stroke, sending you closer and closer to the edge.

Matt panted in your ear, occasionally grunting when he felt you clench around him. "You gonna fall apart on my cock already, princess?" He chuckled. "What? You like spending my money that much?"

His hand traveled from your waist to your breast, gently running his thumb over your nipple through the fabric. Even with your palm clamped tightly over your mouth, it was getting harder and harder to keep your squeals to yourself. You used every ounce of willpower to keep from screaming his name.

You looked into his eyes in the mirror, your vision beginning to blur and your body beginning to tremble. The sound of skin slapping against skin started to fill the dressing room despite Matt's efforts to be stealthy about it.

However, it didn't take long for you to finish on his length, your pussy throbbing around him as you whimpered against your palm. Your juices coated him and formed a creamy ring around the base of his dick. Your tossed your head back, your eyes rolling back into your head as he delivered a few more powerful strokes.

The sensation was overwhelming for each of you, your hearts thundering in your chests as your ragged breaths and stifled moans threatened to give you away to passersby. Matt let out a final grunt, his cock buried deep inside of you as he pumped you full of his thick ropes of cum.

The two of you slowly moved out of the position, worried you'd attracted attention while fucking in the dressing room. You both quickly got dressed, quiet giggles spilling from each of you about how swept up in the heat of the moment you'd gotten.

You stepped out of the dressing room first, making sure the coast was clear. Matt followed behind when he knew it was safe, and the two of you nonchalantly walked out as if nothing had happened.

Matt's arm slithered around your waist as you continued on with your ritual of carelessly spending Matt's money on whatever the hell you wanted, and he wouldn't have it any other way.

#sturniolo triplets #sturniolo smut #sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x you #matthew sturniolo #ᴀʀɪᴇꜱ' ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ .ᐟ ✮⋆˙#ᴘʟᴀɴᴇᴛ ʜᴇʀ ᴍᴀʀᴀᴛʜᴏɴ .ᐟ ✮⋆˙

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scatorcciosgirl · 1 day ago

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camera girl…

Rockstar!Nat x Photographer!Reader

Warnings: NSFW, 18+ / MDNI, band/modern AU, fem!reader, usage of y/n, light angst, natalie is emotionally unavailable, reader is socially anxious, mentions of smoking, profanity, porn with plot, loss of virginity, fingering (r!receiving), praise kink, slightly dom!nat, not proofread

Note: this was my first time writing smut

You had no idea what your best friend, Olivia, was signing you two up for when she volunteered the two of you to run a merch stand at a local theater. A band you’d never heard of was playing there on their tour and your friend’s friend, who runs the place, needed some extra help. So, here you were, wearing a black crop-top with the band’s name on it, passing out merch with their faces and their EP title.

After the rush that came at the beginning of the show, it had died down once the band actually started playing. Their music wasn’t something you usually found on your playlist but you still bopped your head along to the beat.

The lead singer interacted with the audience like they were her best friends, making you look up every so often to watch. She was beautiful, wearing a leather jacket and a plaid skirt, hair cut into a shaggy bleached mullet. Her voice was smooth, like honey.

She seemed like the perfect subject to photograph, making your hands itch for your camera.

“Hey, would you mind taking some quick pictures for Instagram?” Heather asks you, suddenly appearing at the counter. You jump, tearing your attention away from the singer to blink at her.

“What?”

“Sorry,” Heather winced, the corners of her lips twitching up. “Can you take some photos of the group? So I can post them?”

“Oh,” you breathe out, nodding. “Yeah. Of course.”

You reach down and pull out your bag, where your camera is tucked safely inside. You fish it out, sliding the strap over your neck like second nature. You knew your friend had told her you could take some pictures for the theater’s socials, which was why you’d even brought it. You scan the building for a second, trying to find the best place to stand.

The lightning is… not ideal. But you know you can make it work.

You maneuver to the side of the stage, pushing through the crowd until you reach your vantage point.

You start with a few wide shots of the entire band. But, with the way the singer moves across the stage like it was built for her, you find yourself zooming in and tracking her every movement. Her skirt swings against her fishnet-covered legs and the lightning hits her jaw just right.

Your instincts take over and you snap picture after picture. She looks stunning in each and every one of them.

She’s electric.

You swear your heart stops when she looks over mid-song and locks eyes with you through the lens. Her lips curve up and you swallow, snapping the photo just in time before she looks away to continue singing.

You find yourself lost in her. She’s so photogenic, you wish you could photograph her forever. You don’t even realize how long you’ve been standing there until the band is suddenly saying their goodbyes. The crowd erupts in cheers and you catch the group bowing for the audience before they head backstage.

You hurry back to the merch stand, already knowing there’s going to be another flood of customers. When the walls are practically bare and everyone is gone, you reach for your camera and begin to scroll through your shots.

Heather and your friend look over your shoulder, commenting on their favorites.

“These are so good,” Olivia gushes. “The bassist looks so hot in that one.”

“You’re very talented,” Heather compliments.

You feel your cheeks heat up. “Thank you.”

That night, you stay up for hours editing the pictures. The sun is coming up by the time you’re finally done and you send them over to Heather so she can post them. You don’t think much of it anymore until you get a DM two days later.

yellowjacketsband

Hey! The band saw the pictures you took of them the other night at Heather’s and they’re obsessed! They’re playing in Austin tomorrow and they’re wondering if there’s any chance you’d be free to shoot them? We’ll comp you, of course. - Benjamin Scott, Yellowjackets Manager

You stare at the message for a second, heart hammering in your chest. You click on the account, wanting to make sure that its real.

It is.

ynsphotos

Thank you so much! I’d love to! Just let me know when to be there!

You swipe out of Instagram the second you send the message, already opening your messages app to text Olivia. You barely get a chance to start typing before you get another notification from the band. You click on it, biting down on the inside of your cheek in anticipation.

yellowjacketsband

Amazing! The set starts at 9 but if you could be there by 7, that would be great! We’ll leave a pass at the door for you. Just tell them your name when you get there. Thank you so much! Everyone’s really excited.

You reread the message a few times before you squeal and throw your phone on your bed, unable to believe what just happened.

It’s not your first time shooting for someone. But it is your first time shooting for someone who found you. And the fact that they liked your work enough to ask you to come back? That’s huge.

You grab your phone again and immediately FaceTime Olivia.

Tomorrow arrived far too fast for your liking.

Your hands shake as you walk up to the venue, trying to ignore the way the people in line stare at you as you walk past them.

The security guard doesn’t even look at you. “Back of the line.”

“No, I’m - I’m here to photograph the band?” you stammer, flushing in embarrassment as you give them your name.

His eyebrow raises as he looks down at the clipboard, scanning for your name. For a terrifying second, you worry that this was all an elaborate prank. A camera crew or something is going to jump out and you’ll look like an idiot on national television.

Then, he nods. “Got it.” He hands you a pass that says CREW and steps aside so you can enter. “Go ahead. Green room’s in the back, stage access through there.”

You mutter a quiet thank you, probably too low for him to have heard, and walk in, sliding the pass around your neck. Your eyes scan the room in amazement. It’s small and intimate like Heather’s bar is. Someone’s testing mics on stage, someone else is checking the lighting, and another person is coiling cords near a speaker.

“Hey!”

You jump at the sudden voice and spin around to see a tall man in a grey polo and black pants.

“Sorry,” he chuckles. “Didn’t mean to scare you. I’m Ben, the Yellowjackets’ manager. You’re Y/N?”

You nod. “Yeah.”

“Oh, man. The band’s been talking about you nonstop. Seriously, they’re obsessed with those shots. You wanna head backstage and meet them real quick? They’re just hanging out. Soundcheck’s in 10.”

Your stomach churns but you force a small smile. “Sure.”

“Great!”

He leads you down a narrow hallway and pauses in front of a plain black door. You can hear voices from the other side.

“Dude, how the fuck did you manage to sweat through your shirt before soundcheck?”

“It’s hot as shit here. Fuck off.”

“They can be… a lot,” Ben warns. “Don’t take anything they say seriously.”

You bite down on the inside of your cheek and nod. “Got it.”

You mentally prepare yourself as he knocks once and opens the door.

The room is chaotic.

There’s coffee cups and beer cans everywhere, an open pizza box open on the coffee table, a clothes rack in the corner. Music is playing from a small speaker. There’s seven people scattered around the room. You recognize most of them because you spent hours staring at their faces while you edited.

The only guy – aside from Ben – in the room is the bassist. Sitting in front of him on the sofa is a redhead, who you know as the drummer. Their arm is wrapped around a black girl whom you don’t recognize. On the other sofa, there’s two other girls. The brunette is the other guitarist. The girl sitting beside her is also unfamiliar with hair that seems to be a mix of blonde and brown. Sitting on the floor against it is another brunette with olive skin, the keyboardist.

Then, in the back, settled in one of the seats at a vanity, guitar on her lap, is her. The lead singer.

Her shaggy bleached hair is pulled into a ponytail that most of the front pieces fall out of, framing her face. She’s wearing a Nirvana shirt and sweatpants, the sleeves of the shirt rolled up. A notebook is perched on the vanity desk, pen still in her hand.

“Photographer’s here,” Ben announces, turning to gesture to you like you’re a prize.

All seven of them turn to look at you. You tense under their gazes. You can feel them taking you in. Everything from the Mary Janes covering your feet to the white skirt you’d chosen to the cardigan hanging off your shoulders.

“Y/N, this is Travis–” Ben starts the introductions. The bassist – Travis – nods to you in acknowledgment before he tugs his shirt off.

“Don’t pay too much attention to him,” the redhead pipes up with a small smirk. “He’s a dick.” The girl next to them smacks their shoulder, making them let out a laugh. “What? It’s true.”

“That’s Van,” Ben says. “And their girlfriend, Taissa.”

Taissa turns away from Van and offers you a small wave.

“Then we have Lottie, Shauna, and her girlfriend, Jackie. . .”

Lottie sends you a kind smile and Shauna shoots you another wave. Meanwhile, Jackie beams and stands. She crosses the room and throws her arm around you. “I love your outfit.”

You blink in surprise before hesitantly returning the hug. “Thank you.”

“Jesus, Jackie. You trying to scare her off already?”

Jackie pulls away but slides her arm through yours, like the two of you have been best friends for ages. Your gaze cuts over to the singer, who’s stood from her chair and moved closer.

“And, finally, we have Natalie,” Ben introduces.

“Hey,” Natalie greets, eyes raking over your body.

You manage a small, “Hi,” and try not to flush too much under her gaze.

“Don’t worry,” Jackie mutters, squeezing your arm. “She doesn’t bite.”

Van snorts and adds, “Unless you ask her to.”

“Van!” the girl besides you scolds.

“Ignore them,” Natalie advises, rolling her eyes. “They just like to talk shit.”

You let out a nervous laugh. “It’s okay. I’m just really excited to be here. Thanks for having me back.”

“Dude, we should be thanking you,” Van counters, picking up a piece of pizza. “That shot of me flipping my sticks? Insane. And you even managed to make Travis look hot.”

The bassist, now wearing a different shirt, flips them off. The drummer wastes no time in returning the gesture.

“You guys were incredible,” you respond, chuckling at the two of them. “Seriously. I think I listened to, um... Queen of Hearts, like, 10 times in a row when I got home.”

“Good eye and a good ear.” Natalie smiles, impressed. “You’re the entire package.”

“She would not shut up about you. Spent half the night after the show zooming in on the picture of her looking right at the camera,” Van reveals through a mouthful.

“I’m pretty sure she made it her lockscreen,” Lottie remarks with a light laugh.

“She did,” Taissa confirms, nodding.

Before anyone can say anything else, the door opens. A girl with glasses and curly blonde hair pops her head in. “Time for soundcheck.”

A mixture of groans and cheers chorus from the band as they all hurry to finish their food and drinks before standing.

The blonde looks at you. “Hi, I’m Misty. I run equipment. You must be the photographer?”

You smile at her and introduce yourself, following the band out the door. Jackie and Taissa settle in on the floor, watching their partners. You stand off to the sound, snapping a few BTS photos, unable to shake the feeling that something is about to change.

The message comes the next day.

You’re half asleep, having just finished the photos from the show and sending them to Ben. The sun is shining through your window and, for a second, you curse the fact that you chose aesthetic over practicality with the curtains.

Your phone buzzes from where it rests on the bed beside you. You blink and grab it, unlocking your phone to view the text.

Ben Yellowjackets

These are amazing! I’m showing them to the band right now.

You smile and type out a quick reply.

You

Thank you! I hope they like them!

It’s not until hours later that it happens. You’re moving through your apartment like a zombie, attempting to throw together a pathetic excuse of a meal for lunch.

Ben Yellowjackets

Hey, Y/N! The band absolutely loves the shots you took last night. They’re wanting to know if you’d like to come on tour as the official photographer. Travel, rooms, and meals will be covered, plus a day rate. Interested?

Your eyes widen and your mouth drops open. You screenshot the message and send it to Olivia.

You

LIV

SOS

WHAT DO I SAY???

livvy

HOLY SHITTTT

SAY YES?? DUH

You

i dont know

this is crazy

Livvy

if u don’t say yes istg im going to smack u

You bite down on the inside of your cheek and reopen Ben’s message.

You

Absolutely! Just let me know the dates and cities.

You throw your phone on the couch and pace around your apartment, nerves bubbling in your stomach. The words repeat in your head.

On tour. Official photographer.

It's unbelievable. It cannot be real life.

When your phone buzzes again, you practically dive for it.

Ben Yellowjackets

Perfect. I’ll have Misty send over a basic contract and travel info. We’re in St. Louis Monday and Kansas City Tuesday. We’ll fly you out Monday morning so you can shoot that show. That work?

Your breath hitches.

You

Yes, that works!! Thank you so much!!

Ben Yellowjackets

Of course! We’ll handle the flight, hotel, and all that. Just send over your full name, birthday, and ID for the ticket. We’re all really excited to have you joining us!

You send off your details with shaking hands, then drop your phone again and just stare out your balcony window.

Two days ago, you were working with Olivia, selling the band’s merch.

Now you’re going on tour with them.

You barely sleep Sunday night before her flight. You keep waking up thinking you forgot something – memory cards, batteries, your passport (even though you’re not leaving the country).

You land in St. Louis around noon. The flight was short but awful. You hate flying. Ever since you were a kid, you’ve been terrified of the plane crashing.

The moment you step off the plane, you’re hyper aware of everything. The way your sneakers squeak against the airport floor, how sweaty your hand is against your carry-on handle, the weight of your camera bag slung over your shoulder.

You navigate to baggage claim, where Ben and Misty are already waiting.

Misty talks the entire car ride, listing off soundcheck times, load in schedules, and basically the entire tour by city and date. Ben tries to get her to calm down as to not overwhelm you but she always launches into another ramble.

The motel room is nice. Small and dingy, but nice overall.

You barely have time to set your luggage down and collapse back on the bed before a knock sounds on your door.

You sigh and stand, opening it. You’re met with the sight of Natalie. Her hair hangs loose, the blonde framing her face perfectly. She’s wearing a simple grey shirt and jean shorts.

You blink. “Hi.”

“Hey,” she greets. “You’re here.”

“Yeah.”

“Do you wanna grab a coffee before soundcheck?” Natalie asks. “Everyone else is either sleeping or exploring the city.”

You’re surprised at the over but grateful. You’d refused the drink and snack on the plane in fear that you’d throw up and had been running solely on anxiety.

You smile and nod, grateful. “I’d love that.”

So, with Maps leading you to the nearest cafe, the two of you start walking.

Natalie doesn’t say much at first.

She walks beside you, kicking a pebble every now and then or muttering something under her breath about the heat.

The silence makes you antsy, like you should say something but you don’t know what.

It’s the third block when she finally breaks the silence.

“You always this quiet?”

You look over at her, eyes widening. “Sorry, I didn’t–”

“It’s okay,” she interrupts you. “Just noticed you don’t talk very much.”

You don’t know what to say, so you settle on, “Sorry.”

“I didn’t say it was a bad thing.”

Another moment of silence passes by before she breaks it once more.

“How was your flight?”

You groan. “Awful.”

Natalie looks over, eyebrows raising. “Really?”

“I don’t like flying,” you explain. “My brain convinces me that every plane is doomed.”

“You and Shauna have that in common, then,” she replies, the corner of her lips twitching up. “She hates flying.”

You laugh. “Glad to know I’m not alone, then.”

“She makes Jackie hold her hand on every flight,” Natalie tells you. “It’s kinda cute, actually.”

“You don’t get nervous?” you wonder, tilting your head.

She shakes her head. “No. I find flying… peaceful, I guess.”

You shoot her a look. “You’re insane. What about a giant metal tube hurling through the sky is peaceful to you?”

“I don’t know,” Natalie laughs. “I mean, if the plane does crash, the worst that could happen is I die.”

“What if you survive?” you counter. “And you’re stranded in the woods? No food. No water. No shelter. Nothing.”

“I mean, we’d probably be able to find a cave or something,” She shelters. Or make shelters. And there’d probably be a river. And. . . about the food thing, that’s easy. Cannibalism. The others and I have all decided that if we ever get stranded, we’re eating Jackie first.”

You hum. “And how does Jackie feel about that?”

“Oh, she doesn’t know.”

You huff a laugh, the tension in your chest loosening.

Natalie holds the door open for you when you finally reach the cafe. The two of you are immediately greeted by the sound of Taylor Swift playing softly in the background. Your stomach grumbles at the smell of espresso and freshly baked something.

She orders a black coffee and looks back at you. “What do you want?”

You shake your head. “You don-”

“Tour rule,” she cuts you off. “If I invite you, I pay.”

You sigh and order an iced latte with oak milk. Natalie hands over her card while you drop a few dollars into the tip jar.

She leads you over to a booth while you wait for your drinks. “So... what’s your deal?”

“My… deal?” you repeat, confused.

“Yeah. Like, how did you get into photography?”

“Oh, um, it was kind of an accident, really,” you admit, running your finger over the smooth surface of the table. “I just liked taking pictures, capturing moments. It wasn’t supposed to be anything serious. My mom used to always say I should focus on something stable. And then my high school art teacher told me I had potential and… yeah. I decided this was something I really wanted to do.”

“And now?” she cocks her head. “How does your mom feel?”

You tense and avert your gaze to your hands. “We don’t really talk.”

“Shit,” Natalie frowns. “I’m sorry.”

Her voice softens in a way that makes your chest ache. She doesn’t say anything more, doesn’t offer empty comfort or try to pry.

“It’s okay,” you say. “It is what it is. We just want different things.”

Unfortunately, those differences didn’t only extend to photography.

“Well,” Natalie begins after a moment, “I think you made the right call. You’ve got the eye. The way you catch us onstage… it’s like you see something we don’t.”

You feel your cheeks heat up. “That’s kind of the job.”

“No,” she shakes her head. “You’re not just good technically. It’s like… I don’t know. Like you’re looking for something real. You catch the little things. Like the way Van grins at Tai in the wings when she thinks no one’s watching. Or how Lottie closes her eyes when she plays a certain chord. Shit like that.”

You stare at her for a second, stunned. Then the barista calls her name before you can figure out what to say. The two of you stand to grab your drinks.

“We should probably start heading back,” she says, passing you your latte. “Ben’ll lose his shit if we’re not back in time.”

Like the walk there, the walk back to the motel starts in silence.

“So…” you’re the first one to break it. “What’s your deal?”

“My deal,” she breathes out, blowing her bangs out of her face. “God. Uh… bought a shitty guitar in middle school and started teaching myself. Started a band in high school but that didn’t work out. Met the others in college and the rest was pretty much history.”

“So you were all friends?” you question.

“Well, I was friends with Van and Lottie first,” she explains. “Lottie was friends with Jackie, who brought in Shauna. And then Van started dating Tai. And I dated Travis for a bit…”

“You… and Travis?”

You’re not sure why the mention of the two of them creates a strange feeling in your stomach.

“Yeah,” Natalie confirms. “We only dated for, like, a month. Realized we’re better off friends.”

You don’t say anything, too busy trying to make sense of the flicker of whatever you just felt.

Jealousy? That’d be stupid. You barely know her.

“He’s not your type?” you ask before you can stop yourself.

Natalie shrugs. “Well… I mean, he’s hot – God, wait. Don’t tell him I said that. His ego’s already unbearable.”

You offer her a small smile. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

“It wasn’t that I wasn’t attracted to him. It was just one of those things that made sense until it didn’t…” She sips her coffee. “Anyway, that was a long time ago. He’s like a brother now. Loud, annoying… leaves his shit everywhere.”

You laugh, but that weird little twinge in your chest lingers.

Natalie glances sideways at you. “What about you? What’s your relationship history look like?”

“Um…” you tense.

“Oh, come on,” she urges, gently bumping you with her elbow. “You know about my failed band and ex-boyfriend. I think I deserve at least one tragic backstory from you.”

You hesitate. The truth is embarrassing. You’ve never dated anybody. Never kissed anybody. Never even held hands romantically.

“I mean, I’ve dated some but nothing ever got serious,” you tell her, hoping you sound casual instead of like a liar. “Men kind of suck.”

“Hear, hear,” Natalie agrees, lifting her coffee cup up. “That’s why I mostly stick to girls now.”

You breath hitches. “Oh.”

Natalie pauses, brows furrowing. “Oh?”

Your eyes widen, suddenly aware of how you reaction sounded. “No, I – I didn’t mean it like that. Sorry. I don’t know…”

She lets out a breath. “You’re fine.”

The rest of the walk is silent. But not in the way it was earlier.

The quiet was thick and heavy.

Your brain runs through the conversation on a loop.

I mostly stick to girls now.

And your reaction. That stupid, surprised little oh. Because it wasn’t what she said. It was how she said it.

Simple. Easy. Like breathing.

I mostly stick to girls now.

Natalie exudes confidence. Like she knows exactly who she is and never bothered asking for permission.

You wish you could be like that.

You glance at her as you walk. Your hand itches for your camera as you take her in. The sunlight catches the blonde of her hair just right, casting a glow around her. She looks angelic.

You force yourself to look away.

As soon as the motel comes into view, you feel like you can breathe again. Your escape is so close.

“Thank you, Natalie,” you whisper, coming to a stop in front of your door. “For the coffee.”

“It’s Nat,” she corrects, almost like a reflex. “Nobody calls me Natalie.”

Relief floods your body when she smiles at you. Kindly. Genuinely.

“Nat,” you repeat, testing the name. It feels so natural. “Thank you, Nat.”

“Any time, Camera Girl.”

The nickname catches you off guard. You like the way it sounds coming from her. Like it's just hers. From how close the two of you are standing, you can see her eyes. They’re green. Probably the prettiest shade of green you’ve ever seen.

“We’ll probably head to the venue in about an hour,” she tells you, stepping bak. “Ben likes to get there early just in case something goes wrong.”

“Got it,” you nod, turning. You fish out the key Ben had given you and unlock your door. “Thanks, Nat.”

Natalie hums and turns, sipping what’s left of her coffee as she walks away. You enter your room and shut the door behind you, setting your coffee on the stand by the door before flopping down on your bed.

You’re in trouble.

You close your eyes, trying to force your heartbeat to slow. There’s no room for a crush. You’re here to work.

And Natalie is just being nice.

You end up fitting in surprisingly well with the band.

The days pass by in a blur of long drives, soundchecks, shows, late night dinners at 24 hour diners or gas stations, and more driving.

You’ve gotten close with everybody.

Ben is like the father you never really had. He always makes sure you’ve eaten and had enough sleep, He reminds you to take breaks even when you swear you’re fine.

Misty talks constantly. Half the time you don’t know whether to laugh or be concerned, You’ve grown quite font of her endless supply of bizarre facts and conspiracy theories. She’s weird, sure, but she means well.

Van can make you laugh until you can’t breathe. She has no filter and zero shame, and you love that about her.

Travis has become the brother you never wanted, making you glad for the first time in your life that you’re an only child. He constantly steals your snacks, flips you off in photos, calls you nicknames that makes no sense, and complains about your music taste. But he’s also the first one to carry your bag when you look tired. You never knew you could love and hate a person so much.

Lottie helps you with your outfits before shows. She’s soft-spoken and graceful, with a surprisingly sharp eye for fashion.

Paired with Lottie, Jackie has become like your personal makeup artist. She’ll make you feel so confident about the most random things. “Your eyelashes are so long. It’s not fair.”

Shauna is observant. She’ll randomly hand you a snack or wordlessly fix the strap of your camera.

Taissa has become the first person you go to when you have a problem. She’s level headed and grounded and always tells you what you need to hear.

You’ve found a rhythm with all of them.

But Nat is your constant.

She calls you Camera Girl more often than your actual name. She always sit next to you on the bus. She shares her earbuds with you – the wired kind, because she refuses to get AirPods because she always loses them. The two of you have created a perfectly blended playlist.

The room sharing started out of necessity. One too few rooms in Des Moines had led to a shrug from Natalie and a casual, “You cool with bunking up?”

So now if there aren't enough rooms, you two share without hesitation. She’ll strip down to a sports bra and boxers and flop down on the bed. She’ll watch you unpack your equipment like structure exists on the road. But she never judges.

If she’s not working on a song, she’s watching you edit the pictures you took of the previous show.

You’ve started noticing the little things. How a small pout forms on her lips when she’s concentrated. How she smells like motel shampoo, peppermint, and cigarettes.

How her fingers graze yours for a second too long when she passes you something. How her hand finds your lower back when you’re confused and she’s guiding you. How she always makes sure to blow the smoke away from you if she’s smoking near you.

But you know it doesn’t mean anything.

Natalie is a natural flirt. And she’s your friend. Your best friend here. That’s it.

But recently, she’s started pulling away. She’s become less Nat and more Natalie. You try not to pry. You know that being on tour can sometimes be overwhelming. But you hate how hollow everything feels now.

You guys are in Denver. The two of you are sitting outside the motel. Your camera is set on your lap as you scroll through the pictures you took tonight. She’s smoking beside you, turning her head away every time she exhales.

The air feels thinner between you guys. She hasn’t said a word since the set ended, or said much all day in general. It wasn’t strange at first. Sometimes Nat has days where she doesn’t want to talk much. Everyone does. But now it is because the air feels thin.

“Hey,” you softly call out, looking up at her. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” she answers too quickly, flicking ash onto the sidewalk. “Just tired.”

She’s been tired for the past three cities.

You hesitate for a second before you ask, “Did I do something?”

Natalie turns toward you, brows furrowing. “What?”

“You’ve been different lately,” you tell her, busying yourself with your camera once more. “And… if I did something wrong, I just wanna know.”

She stared at you for a moment before she sighs and stubs out the cigarette. “You didn’t do anything.”

She doesn’t say anything else.

“Okay…” you say, not believing her but not wanting to push as you refocus on your pictures.

You pause on one of Lottie, fingers resting on the keys, head thrown back, completely immersed in the music.

Your camera is snatched out of your hands.

“Hey-”

Natalie is standing now, scrolling through the images. “You know, you’re always hide behind this thing, taking pictures of us. You never let us get pictures of you.”

“Well, I’m not the subject,” your retort, rising from the ground to try and grab it back. She steps away from you. “Nat! Give it back.”

You gasp at the way she keeps it out of your reach.

“Be careful, please–”

“Just let me take one picture of you and I’ll give it back.”

You groan. “Fine!”

“Smile!” she cockily sings, lifting the device up to her eye. You glare at her, not caring how childish you look as she snaps the photo.

“Okay, now give it–”

“You’re so beautiful.”

Your breath hitches and you stare at her for a moment. She lowers the camera and hands it over to you. You open and close your mouth like a fish out of water, trying to figure out what to say.

But her lips are on yours before you even get a chance to.

You freeze at first, brain struggling to catch up to the fact that this is happening. Natalie’s hands cup your cheeks. But by the time you come to your senses, she’s pulling back.

“Shit-”

You grip her shirt and pull her back in. You’re sure she can tell that you don’t know what you’re doing. But she still backs you up until you hit the motel door, barely pulling away to fish the key out.

Natalie opens the door and pushes you in, kicking it closed behind her. She guides you to the bed, pulling you on her lap. Her lips are moving much more feverishly. Your head is spinning with a million different thoughts.

She bites down on your bottom lip, making you gasp. She uses the moment to slip her tongue into your mouth as her hands roam your body, sliding up under your shirt.

“Tell me if you want me to stop,” she mumbles, kisses trailing down your jaw and neck.

Although the sensations are new and overwhelming, the very last thing you want is for her to stop. “Please don’t.”

“Good girl,” Natalie mutters, tugging at your shirt.

You let out a shaky breath at the praise and instinctively lift your arms to allow her to pull off your top. The motel room is dark and you can’t see her that well but you can feel her eyes raking over you.

“Fuck,” she breathes out.

Before you even get a chance to do anything, she’s flipping you over. She hovers over you, lips moving down your chest. One hand pulls the cup of your bra down, exposing you to her.

She swipes her thumb over your nipple, it hardening under her touch. You suck in a breath when she leans down, tongue circling it. Her other hand frees your other breast and she kneads it.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous,” Natalie whispers, pressing a kiss to your other nipple.

Against your better judgement, a whimper slips past your lips at the praise.

Her hands slide down your body as she takes it in her mouth. Her touch causes goosebumps to rise on your skin. Natalie’s fingers pause at the waistband of your jeans.

Natalie pulls away, making you whine at the loss of her touch. “Can I?”

You swallow thickly and nod, “Please.”

Her fingers unbutton your pants with ease. “Lift your hips for me,” she instructs. Without a second thought, you do what she asks, allowing her to pull them down. “Good girl.”

You try to control your breathing as she reaches down, touching you over your panties, feeling the damp spot. Your breath hitches and you tense under her touch.

“You okay?” she asks.

“I’m okay,” you confirm, too embarrassed to meet her eyes. You’re grateful for the lack of light in the room. “It’s… been a while.”

Natalie hums. “I can tell…”

Her hand slides underneath the fabric. You jolt when her skin brushes your heat. Her fingers slide through her folds, collecting your slick.

“I can tell,” she remarks. “You’re so fucking wet already.”

You can feel the rough calluses on her fingertips from her guitar as she touches you, finding your clit. She circles it with a certain expertise that makes you bit down on your lip, trying to not make too much noise.

“Let it out,” Natalie urges. “I wanna hear you.”

You have no choice but to do what she says. You let out a soft, shaky sound as your hands grip the comforter beneath you. Everything feels like too much.

“Yeah, just like that. You’re doing so good for me.”

Her fingers move lower, teasing your entrance. You hips arch against her, pressing into her hand. Without any warning, she slides her fingers inside.

You wince and grab her arm on instinct, the sudden stretch sharp and uncomfortable as your thighs clench around her wrist.

“Jesus,” she hisses, half to herself. “You’re tight.”

Your cheeks burn. If Natalie couldn’t already tell you were a virgin, she must suspect now. Her hand stills, giving your body time to adjust.

The sting slowly gives way into pleasure. Natalie starts moving her fingers, slow at first, then faster. You whine, your hips chasing the friction when her palm brushes your clit.

Her mouth returns to your breast, tongue flicking over your nipple in tandem with her fingers. The combination makes you groan.

The pressure builds fast in your lower stomach. You try to hold back, unsure if it’s supposed to feel this intense, but Natalie doesn’t let up.

“You gonna cum for me?” she asks almost teasingly. “C’mon, I wanna hear your pretty sounds.”

The pressure snaps.

A sound you didn’t know you could make forces its way out of you, your vision blurring and muscles tensing as pleasure floods through you.

Natalie slows, helping you through it. The teasing edge to her voice is gone when she speaks, “That’s it. Good girl. Fuck, look at you.”

You shove your face into the bed, chest heaving as the feeling fades. Humiliation replaces it. That was fast and, God, you were loud.

“Hey,” Natalie gently calls out, easing her fingers out of you. “You okay?”

You nod, unable to speak yet.

She leans down, lips brushing over your jaw. “You were perfect, Camera Girl.”

You’re unsure of what happens now. Or what this means. But when she lies down and pulls you closer to her, you melt into her and allow yourself to believe that it could mean something real.

Unfortunately, when you wake up in the morning to find the bed empty, you’re proven wrong.

#yellowjackets #yellowjackets fanfic #yellowjackets x reader #yellowjackets x you #natalie scatorccio #natalie scatorccio x reader #natalie scatorccio x you #nat scatorccio #nat scatorccio x reader #nat scatorccio x you #sophie thatcher #sophie thatcher x reader #wlw smut #wlw ns/fw #idk what i’m doing

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luigis-lover · 3 days ago

Text

we've got it all - l.m.

my first full on fic! hope y'all like it <3 fluff and angst, enjoy. wc: 6.7k

synopsis: luigi's past got brought up in conversation and your thoughts couldn't help but linger and wonder what could've been

Freshly out of the shower, you and Luigi were mindlessly conversing in bed. In the humble abode of your cozy, loving apartment. Where you two spent your days. The walls creating a warm space where you two live comfortably, in your own little world.

You two had eaten breakfast, spoke of plans for the day. Which led to playful tangents, bantering, and giggling in the kitchen. Only for Luigi to lift you off the counter and carry you to the bedroom.

“You know…” Luigi mumbles out. Both of you leaned against the headboard. “I hit the jackpot with you.” he confesses as he smiles at you, his face turned to look at you like you’re the only thing that matters.

Your smile grows and your heart flutters, your eyes warming as he expresses.

“No, because I'm pretty sure I hit the jackpot with you!” you playfully retort, smiling as you look over at him, who’s beside you in bed.

Luigi lets out a hearty laugh, looking away as he grins.

“No, because I'm serious.” your voice gets softer and sincere. Scooting closer to him, nuzzling into his side. The back of your head fitting perfectly in the vertex of the pit of his arm. Luigi instinctively wraps his arm around your shoulder, pulling you in closer. “You’re the most selfless and sweetest guy I've met. It’s not everyday you meet a respectable kind man. A man I'm lucky to call mine.”

Your words hit him deep. You’re no longer joking. He can see the genuine look in your facial expressions and hear the sincere tone in your soft voice.

Luigi leans down to meet your lips, his heart racing. Both of your eyes falling shut. His hand cupping a side of your cheek. The short loving kiss is left lingering as you pout against his pink ones.

“Stop because youre going to make me cry.” you exaggerate in a whisper. Your eyes soft and child-like.

Luigi’s lips turn up as he hears that baby voice he knows all too well. The one you use when you get all mushy and emotional. And damn he loves it!

He chuckles and his whole face lights up. Pulling away from the kiss, far enough to get a better look at your face but near enough to keep you close.

“No tears allowed.” Luigi teases with a growing smile, already seeing your smile grow. Your chuckles filling his ears.

“How could I not when you’re being so sweet?” you counter, pouting again playfully. Knowing it gets to him.

“Well who hit the bigger jackpot?!” Luigi continues with a grin, a little mischievous look in his eyes. Not giving up on the idea that he hit it. “Because I wake up every morning knowing I'm the luckiest man alive.”

Your rosy cheeks lift up as you smile. Your eyes glowing and heart fluttering.

You chuckle and continue with the playful competition.

“Well… I wake up every morning knowing I'm the luckiest girl with such an amazing guy.” you reiterate with a pleased smile. Rolling over to lay on top of him, confident and assured in your claims.

Nestling your face into his neck. Luigi’s hand immediately wraps around your waist as you change positions into this much more affectionate one.

“You just cherish me and treat me like I'm the only girl in the world.” you close your eyes as he pulls you closer, allowing you to burrow into his neck. His fingers running through your locks.

A proud smirk is formed on Luigi’s face as he hears your words. The way you appreciate him and never make him feel unnoticed makes him feel seen. It warms his heart.

“Damn straight.” Luigi boasts in that prideful tone. Loving how confident you make him feel. “You have no idea how grateful I am to have met you y/n.” Luigi admits as he rubs up and down your back. Letting out a little thoughtful exhale.

You lift your face up from the crook of his neck to meet his gaze.

“Really?” You mutter out softly. Eyes filled with curiosity as you hear his genuine tone at the end. There’s a shift in the conversation. Luigi nods as your eyes meet, loving how small you look in his arms.

The way you’re laid over his body makes him feel like your protector. The one who can keep you safe and loved. Your facial expressions are soft and adorable, too adorable for him to handle. “Mmhmm.” he mumbles out in response. “Someone honest. Sweet. Funny. Gorgeous.” Luigi trails off softly as his hazel eyes meet yours.

Your small smile grows and you can feel your cheeks warming up. His hand roaming up and down your back, still.

Luigi knows how rare it is for him to have met someone like you. Someone who gets him, who supports him and loves him for him. As in the past, in his college days and even in his time in Hawaii, he searched and much to ‘his efforts’ he never found the one until he met you.

“I spend my life looking for you. You know how hard it was? It’s truly a miracle I met you. Do you know how rare it is to meet someone like you?” Luigi states, wanting you to know it, to hear it. Luigi’s eyes are on you as he looks down at your laid body before him.

Luigi knows what a true gem you are and he doesn’t ever plan on taking you for granted. Finally having found someone he once would wish and dream for. Knowing he won’t let you go now that he’s found you.

“Is it?” you’d ask thoughtfully, wanting to hear Luigi say it. Your face is still pulled away from his neck, looking up at him as he’s looking down at you. Mere inches apart.

Luigi treats you the way he does, the worshipping and simping, being an outright gentleman because you're aware of how lost he was before he met you. Running away from family and friends because of how off he felt in a world full of people who didn’t see him or understand him.

But not you. You got him instantly. A light that brightened up his life. And vice versa, he made you feel special like no other. He was like a breath of fresh air, he wasn’t like other guys. Wanting to be chased or acting douchey.

Luigi seemed like he just wanted to talk and be heard, be accepted. You were each other’s ying and yang. Balancing each other out.

Luigi furrows his brows as you ask the question. As if you’re questioning your integrity. “Yes!” he blatantly affirms.

“I don’t know… I feel like you could’ve had any girl you wanted.” a growing smile forms on your face as you peg him.

He exhales dramatically and rolls his eyes. “Yeah… maybe… but they were never genuine or profound.” Luigi confesses about girls he could’ve had if he wanted. His voice becoming sincere and thoughtful. He had high standards but in reality he just wanted a girl who cared. Not just about him but about the world.

He didn’t like a superficial girl and you were nothing like that.

“My parents would have all these girls lined up for me. All these preppy girls coming from wealthy Baltimore families. Connected to family friends or business partners. But…” he expresses as he trails off again, sighing.

You didn’t need him to continue, you understood him perfectly. He didn’t connect to that lifestyle. The opulent events, filled with ostensible people who only seeked him for connections and networking. Or just wanting to get wrapped in with the Mangione name. Not the genuine connection that he seeked.

Luigi didn’t have anything against the girls his parents would want to arrange him with. They just weren’t for him. Those girls wanted a husband, and he didn’t just want to be a husband for the title. He wanted to be a husband for all little lines in between, the ins and outs of a true marriage. But at the time, being a spouse wasn’t even a seed in his mind.

Luigi was in his mid-twenties, he just desired and ached for a true connection and he knew that the odds of finding someone looped in with his parents wouldnt be it.

“...I just didn’t feel like that was who I was searching for.” he admits in a lower tone. “Those girls weren’t who I was looking for. Not someone I shared ideologies with.”

You nod as you look up at Luigi, hearing his heartfelt reflection. “I know.” you whisper softly and reassuringly. Your hand splaying up and down his side, meeting with his delicate toned skin. All while your heart warms as Luigi opens up.

“But what about the other girls? The ones who didn’t know about your family?” You’d ask curiously, knowingly. As you know he doesn’t go off parading his last name.

“Like the girls from UPenn or Hawaii?” You mentioned, as those girls knew Luigi for more than a Mangione. Sharing a campus or co-living space with him. Spending quality time with him. In a school club or frat party at Penn or at Surfbreak at the beach or at their big feasts in their well off condos.

Luigi's smile grows as you ask, enjoying your intrigue for the topic and how you genuinely seem interested in his life and previous endeavors.

“Those girls?” Luigi smirks playfully and you can't help but playfully roll your eyes at his goofy smile. Your own smile growing and even letting out a chuckle.

Luigi’s hand lowers down and gives your ass a playful slap, as he chuckles. “They were cool.” he teases without giving too much information, just to mess with you.

You quirk a brow up at him and you return the playful look. He only replies with a little laugh.

“They were cool.” Luigi reaffirms again with a little grin. Egging you on.

You nestle your face back on his chest. “Mhm?” you insist for him to go on. Your arm rests on Luigi’s pecs as you cuddle into him, your face finding refuge in the familiar spot of his neck again. Already used to Luigi’s little teasing.

“Well those girls, at least didn’t initially know me for my name or family.” Luigi starts off, smiling as he holds you close. Squishing the flesh of your ass gently but firmly as he speaks.

Luigi turns his head down to see your face burrowed restfully in his neck, basking in the sight of your smaller body over his muscular one.

He takes the comfortable silence as cue to continue, hand stilled on your skin. “I met a lot of people throughout the past couple of years. But if we’re speaking solely on girls. Yeah, I talked to a couple. Never too serious, except for a couple girlfriends, here and there” Luigi gets more serious as he speaks.

You nod, eyes closed as you relax on top of him. Inhaling his scent.

You were aware that Luigi had a college girlfriend and some flings in Honolulu.

“She seemed smart.” You mention as he knows you’re referring to his past girlfriend from university.

“She was.” Luigi remarks with a smile, his eyes never leaving your loving figure atop of him. “Sometimes a little too smart for me.” he chuckles jokingly. Luigi continues before you have a chance to interject. Not that he didn’t want you to, but he was in the flow of conversation. “It didn’t work out though.”

Your mind fills with questions but Luigi is already answering them. “We wanted different things.” his hand course through your hair, sending shivers down your body.

Your brows furrow as he speaks mindlessly. Questioning and being curious, you lift your face up and away from his neck. “Why? What do you mean?”

Luigi shrugs and smiles down at you. Loving your straightfowardness and the way you don’t shy away from eliciting.

“She wanted different things than I did.” Luigi meets your eyes. Already continuing before you had a chance to ask. “She wanted a future with a man who had a clear path.” Luigi informs, seemingly well. Not a flicker of doubt or pain in his eyes.

“You know? It all went back to that lifestyle my parents wanted for me.” He admits. “She wanted someone respectable in society. The Penn days were coming to an end and she wanted to settle, nothing wrong with it. But I just felt like there was so much more to life than that. At least at the time.” Luigi expresses as his eyes are soft, his gaze on yours.

“You are respectable.” I affirm to him, my eyes and expression clear as day.

Luigi can’t help but smile at your determined tone, you’re always grounding him, giving him that little push he needs at times. His heart warms at your words. Luigi whispers a “thank you baby” against your lips. You simply nod and smile, pressing your lips against his briefly.

“But I get it. I understand where she was coming from and I get you too.” you note, tracing a finger through his hairline. “She seemed like she knew what she wanted. Had her mind set.”

Luigi smiles as he looks down at you, percieving the understanding that you cast. His large hands run up and down the curves of your butt.

“You understand me don’t you?” Luigi graces, his heart warming at how you just seem to get him. He knows that no one else knows him more than you do. “You understand my need for freedom. For curiosity.” Luigi’s words dawn little whispers.

Your acceptance is clear as day as you smile at him in response to his question.

Luigi was voyaging around, trying to find a place to fit before he met you. “Yeah.” you lean up to peck his lips.

You’ve always been drawn in by Luigi’s free spirited nature. His life long journey to learn and to be true to himself. His curiosity that enlightens your worlds. You two share those values, you just want to live.

See, that’s where you two found common ground. You grew up in an enclosed schedule: work, school, family, and occasional fun. You desired travel and freedom. That’s something that Luigi’s been privileged enough to have. The journey to explore and seek. Something you had to work to earn was what Luigi had in a snap of a finger. He didn’t want to give that all up for the basis of a schedule he would get if he settled.

You two were on other ends of a coin, seeking the same resolution. With Luigi, you were lucky to get that life: to live, to seek, to travel and live a comfortable life. With you, Luigi didn’t have to give up his lifelong learning, he got to live it with you. Luigi got to be himself, without feeling trapped or forced to live a life he didn’t yearn for with someone else.

A thought dawned your mind. “How do you think your life wouldve been if you settled?” you asked curiously as the thought overcame your mind. What if he would’ve just caved and lived the life his parents or past partners would’ve held over his head?

Your questions stuns him for a bit. It was something Luigi used to think of relentlessly and constantly. He had been close to just giving in and living the Mangione life, following his father’s footsteps, taking over the family legacy. Settling with an opulent girl from Baltimore. But, having you asking him felt different.

Luigi exhales and smiles a bit as he already knows how it would’ve been. “Miserable. In a suit, in an office, stuck. A perfectly planned out future.” he remarks in irony, knowing it would be anything but perfect. You could feel him shudder beneath you. A bad taste in his mouth.

You’re trying to think of it. Picturing Luigi in some parallel universe with a picture perfect wife in Baltimore and working for the countless family businesses under the Mangione name.

“You think so?” You’d perk up.

“Oh, honey. I know so.” Luigi exasperates out as his eyes widen slightly. He further explains his train of thought. “I can’t imagine giving up the sunsets, the sunrises, the adventures - the freedom.”

Your heart warms at the heart to heart. Your big soft eyes looking up at him dearly and Luigi can’t seem to take his eyes off of them.

“You know what I just realized?” Luigi speaks in a low deep voice, caressing the strands of hair by your face.

You hum out a “hmm?” exhaling softly, your chest tightening.

“That I’m exactly where I want to be right now.” Luigi's eyes glow, his voice softly confessing.

Your smile grows instantly, heart fluttering, face bright. That smile, oh that smile is just confirmation for him. He feels so full. His cups are overflowing. The cups that once were drained dry are pouring.

“This is my perfect.” he whispers and leans towards your lips. Eyes fluttering closed until -

You smile playfully. “Really? And here I was almost insecure about you living that perfect life in Maryland. Living that white privileged life with your college girlfriend in an unorthodox household.”

You’re speaking, chuckling, talking but Luigi's face and heart torns. He completely forgot about the kiss he was leaning into. He sees your playful expression, but oh no. This is no joke to him.

“Not here, living in this humble abode with me.” your smile falters a bit, still remaining but no longer a grin. Without even intending your heart falls a bit despite it starting off as a silly joke.

“Baby, do you even realize how boring that life would’ve been for me?” Luigi objects seriously, a stark contrast to your joking tone. His hazel intense eyes instilled into yours, his lashes evident. Luigi searches your eyes for any hint or glint in your expression that’ll give away that you’re being serious.

Your face softens and you can feel the way your heart breaks a little. You breathe out slowly from your nose. “I know… I know” you say barely above a whisper knowing Luigi would’ve hated it if he would’ve succumbed. Your face falls back into his chest, inevidently looking away. “I was just wondering…” you speak honestly into his collarbone.

Your tone is too low for his liking. Almost sad-like.

Luigi looks down at you, nuzzled on top of him. Face deep into his neck as if you were trying to hide from him. But, it was just a place of comfort for you.

Luigi’s fingers run through your hair. “What makes you wonder y/n?” Luigi asks sincerely, wanting to understand your thought process. “You think I'd be happier with someone who’s part of that world?” he utters out in a direct tone. Speaking of the materialistic world in which he grew up in. The world he’s tried so hard to move on from. The insensible table mannerisms Luigi once dreaded, a lifestyle that’s polar opposite of the one he has now. The one Luigi has created with you. The life he wouldn’t trade for the world.

Luigi is already asking more questions before you could even answer the first one. You exhale softly, hearing the tone of Luigi’s voice. The one he has when he needs to get to the bottom of things. Luigi’s curiosity and determination are a big part of his personality. Not to mention the care and devotion Luigi has for you. Those two mixed together aren’t something Luigi takes lightly. You just know he’s not going to let it go. Despite it just starting off as a little harmless joke.

“It was just a thought.” you repeat into his neck, sighing. Your mind starts running with thoughts as you internally delve into his questions.

Luigi’s brows furrow and his arms simultaneously tighten around your lower waist.

You keep your voice neutral, not wanting Luigi to take it the wrong way or make the wrong conclusions.

“Like…” you trail off, exhaling a little sigh. You lift your face up to meet his gaze that hasn’t faltered. “What if one day this all gets boring to you?” Your voice becomes solemn at the end. Referring to the life he has with you.

You’re aware that you’re not like the people that Luigi grew up with. Not like the girls he’s dated in the past. You didn’t attend an Ivy League, you weren’t generationally wealthy. “I mean I know you’re happy right now. But what if one day you realize that you want to go back to the big Maryland homes, live the upscale life you’ve always known. Alongside an ivy league girlfriend or an entitled Baltimore girl. Hmm?” You ask, looking directly into Luigi’s eyes. You’re describing the exact opposite of what you two have now and you’re mentioning him being with other girls. Now, that was a fucked hypothetical you threw at him.

You were pulling at his heartstrings, Luigi doesn’t know if he should be offended or if he should question your supposed ‘wonder’.

Luigi can’t help but ponder if you’ve been repressing these emotions. That you might be speaking from a place of unattended emotions. Was it something you stored away subconsciously?

“Fuck no.” Luigi cuts you off sharply. His heart is beating through his chest. His brows furrowed as he looks at you. His arms tighten around you, as you’re laid on top of him.

Luigi’s voice is firm and intense. Hurt and laced with genuine offense. Was everything you two constructed together nothing to you?

“Is that really what you think? That one day I'm going to wake up and trade all this?” Luigi exasperates, seemingly upset. Voice laced with a hint of betrayal and acute.

You exhale deeply, looking away. Your expression softens and you feel your heart break. Face red as you feel Luigi’s agonizing gaze on you. You know Luigi’s only beginning his disquisition and you weren’t going to interrupt him. Even if you attempted, he’d want his turn to express himself before you interjected. So you’ll give it to him.

Luigi replicates your deep exhale. Looking at you with grave intensity. “Do you honestly think I would get bored of this life? Of us? This apartment may not be a mansion but it’s home because YOU are my home.” He exasperates and you can’t help but smile. Your heart flutters at his sweet words but Luigi’s eyes are looking at you like tunnel vision, making you want to hide back into his neck and take it all back. A pout takes over your eyes and lips.

Your heart skips a beat as your ears are met with Luigi’s frustrated groan after his deep confession. You’re now feeling small and guilty on top of his chest, feeling Luigi’s arms keeping you firm and rigid against him. You take in the way he stresses and runs his grand fingers through his curly bedhead. Your smile falters as you see how your words impacted him.

But, his words impacted you just as much. Despite Luigi’s little outburst, the corners of your lips etch up slightly and your eyes cast a soft hue. Your hands trace up Luigi’s forearm, the one where his hand is locked into his curls in distress.

Luigi is met with your loving and appreciative smile making his spinning mind pause, breath alleviate, and frustration melt away. He exhales out, your smile calming him. Just like they always do.

“Baby, do you see me getting bored? Do I seem unhappy?” His voice is soft and gentler now. Luigi’s soft hazel eyes dance around your visage, wanting to study you, really understand you. Looking through the portal of your soul: your eyes, to scope any lingering doubts you may have.

You both know the answers to Luigi’s questions. There’s no doubt in your mind that he wasn’t happy or content with the life you two have. But it was just a thought, a mindless little timorous thought.

“No.” you shake your head, speaking softly. Your response is genuine and honest. It’s clear that you both know how blessed your lives are together. The universe aligned your paths, and it’s no mistake that you two are destined to be.

Luigi’s gaze is still skeptical. His brown-greenish eyes that scope you through his long curly eyelashes don’t go unnoticed. You pout and just let your head rest back on his chest.

Luigi is glad he can at least still see your warm face as you lower it. You’re not hiding into his neck this time, just simply resting it over his chest. Your soft skin met with his.

Luigi sighs and runs his hand through your hair, you two in silence. Patience and understanding filling your guys’ bedroom. His other hand rubbing the skin of your lower back, sending shivers down your body.

“I was just thinking…” you mutter out softly, breaking the sweet silence. It’s not a harsh or pressuring silence. Luigi doesn’t emit that presence, he’s kind and considerate. He’s emotionally attuned, you both are. Which is why you two work so well together. “I’m just… not like those other girls.”

Luigi was about to interject but you cut him off before he had a chance to. It was your turn now.

“I’m just a regular ol’ girl.” you express, pressing your ear against his heart. The beating of Luigi’s heart against your ear makes your beating heart sync with his. “Not like those other girls from Penn or connected to wealthy families.” you softly reiterate, your voice breathing out against the skin of his pecs.

Luigi’s lips turn into a frown, he can feel his resolve ache. It hurts the way you discredit yourself. Luigi notices how your eyes leave his, now falling to his chest. He doesn’t want you belittling yourself. You’re not like those Baltimore girls and that’s one of the many reasons why he loves you.

“And I don’t know… I guess the thought of you being with someone from that society or class rank would… fit better?” You let out in an unsured manner. Your eyes timidly lift up to meet his eyes. Your heart skips a beat nervously as you make eye contact with him.

Luigi’s heart clenches, he feels it still. His demeanor darkens at your admission. He cups each side of your face, his thumbs caressing your cheeks as he tries to decipher your words.

“What you’re saying is that you think I’d be better off with my ex?” Luigi exhales as he looks at your bambied eyes. “Or, that I'd be better suited with one of those girls that are connected with my parents?” His brows furrow and his staggering eyes become soft. “Instead of you?” Luigi asks insightfully.

He’s got you, knowing exactly how to poke at you. You exhale and shake your head. “It was just a thought. I’m not doubting myself or us.” You explain, looking into his pressing hazel orbs. You know perfectly well that nothing could compare to you and Luigi. No doubt about it but you couldn’t help but wonder. “I’m just… thinking.” You let out in a softer breathy tone.

Luigi doesn’t still his eyesight. He’s hearing you out, trying to see where you’re coming from and where these sudden thoughts are coming from. His gaze is tense: worried. Brows interlinked, eyes serious, jaw clenched. He doesn’t want to interfere in your utterance but he will once you’re done.

He gives you a slight nod, allowing you the silent message that he’s present and hearing you out.

You look back down after his little nod, breaking eye contact. Instead your hand softly caresses up and down his torso. Appreciating his devotion to listening, though knowing your thoughts are silly. But they’re still your thoughts and you couldn’t ask for a better partner than Luigi to help you depict it with you.

“...Thinking of your life. If you would’ve chosen a different path than the one you’re in now. If you would’ve stayed on the path your parents would’ve wanted for you after college or if you would’ve settled with your ex-girlfriend from UPenn.” Your tone is wondrous and a bit doubtful. You could feel your heart sombering a bit, throat tensing.

Luigi could see the sincerity in your eyes and the genuine tone in your voice.

You hadn’t been holding onto these thoughts, no. These thoughts came in a sudden manner when you two were conversing about Luigi’s past. Luigi evokes nothing but confidence and assuredness in the relationship. He doesn’t even need to reassure you, his actions and words speak for themselves.

You’re aware of the profound love you two share. It’s incomparable. Nothing like you two had ever experienced before and it’s endgame. Without a doubt.

We have it all

Luigi reads you well, he sees the vulnerability in your eyes. You two are open and honest with one another.

When studying your words and expressions, Luigi comes to the conclusion that you’re not claiming that ‘you’re not good enough’. Rather, you’re simply perceiving what you believe are his lost opportunities.

Luigi’s heart trembles and it breaks him with the way you seem slightly dismantled. Your eyes are on his chest rather than on him. Luigi needs you to look at him, he needs to see your mien.

Luigi’s fingers that were once splayed on your back now meet your chin. “Hey.” Luigi whispers, tilting your chin up so that you can look directly at him. “You’re overthinking this. Hard.” He affirms, eyes on yours. “You really think that I’m sitting here wishing I had that white privileged lifestyle? Ivy league wife, big house, and the country club memberships?” His voice becomes harsh as he openly expresses. Apparently he has to make it clear, he thought you already had it down. His sass coming into town because he knows that you know it too. But yet you’re here having this conversation.

“You think that’s what I want?” He scoffs. You hiss as he tightens his grip on your chin.

“Owww.” You deflect, knowing he’s not actually hurting you. But you’re pouting regardless, wanting to slightly steer away from the conversation.

Luigi’s eyes are fierce and deep as they bore into yours. You know that he’s trying to instill his words deep into your brain and heart.

Luigi observes how you’re diverting away from the conversation, you’re good at it when you want to be but he’s got you down. More than anyone in the world.

“Answer the question, baby!” He growls, looking straight into your eyes and still holding your chin.

Your eyes fall slightly, not meeting Luigi’s eyes. Instead devoting your attention to his beauty marks on his cheeks. Your heart flutters as you hear Luigi’s tamed and serious tone. The deepness of his voice makes you tremble, in all the good ways.

“What question?” You mumble out innocently, playing dumb. Your eyes still not brave enough to meet Luigi's fierce ones.

Luigi glares at you instinctively, not liking how you’re deviating from his questions. “Do. You. Think. I. Want. That. Life?” He snaps, accentuating each word clearly and precisely. His voice is deep and adament.

Luigi grabs ahold of your chin once again and lifts it up, making you look at him. Your faces now an inch apart, to the point where you feel his hot breath ghost your lips.

He’s not mad, no. But Luigi wants to make it damn clear. He’s intense and passionate, it’s what you love about him.

You pout out a smile, your face falling onto his chest once more. “Baby.” You whine and can’t help but nervously laugh. Wanting to end this conversation you sewed yourself.

Luigi can’t help but smile at your reaction, his arms instinctively wrap around your waist. “You’re avoiding the question.” He mumbles out in a softer tone. Exhaling deeply into your hair.

Your breath falls out heavily as he hasn’t let it go. But, it’s Luigi, what do you expect?

You breathe out heavily and deeply. “Your question?” you nuzzle into his chest, hiding your face in it to steer away from his gaze. You continue to play dumb. “The one about the country club memberships and golf? Yeah, I know. You’d hate it.” You reply in a smartass tone, knowing that wasn’t his question.

A smile on Luigi's face forms at your facetious response. He loves your witty comebacks and tone but he’s trying to be serious. Though, appreciating how you’re keeping things light. You smile as you feel his chest vibrate with laughter.

“You know that’s not what I meant.” He reiterates in a softer tone, looking down at your hidden features against his chest.

Finding refuge inside the crook of the neck, you lean into it again. Instinctive pout filling your facial expression, dwelling on how to reply. Staying silent for a couple seconds. You don’t even have to speak up because you know Luigi’s persistent and will retain the conversation.

Luigi notices the way you’ve hidden into his neck again, stowing away from his words and eye contact.

“Answer the question.” He mutters out, his masculine fingers running through your locks. His voice is firm but gentle. He knows you’re overthinking, being way over your head and your silence is killing him. He could feel the tension in his chest.

He breathes out deeply, kissing your temple. Luigi’s lips remain on your skin for a bit. You let out a little thoughtful breath. You knew his question wasn’t about the damn country clubs.

“No.” you let out in his neck, your voice soft and cutesy. “I know you don’t.” you exhale and speak gentle assuredness into his neck, though your sigh deflects the way you’re giving in.

Luigi’s heart aches at your defeated tone and the way he perceives you belittling yourself. As if you’re doubting his love and the way he values you. Luigi wants you in every aspect in his life and it hurts him knowing that there could even be a small percentage of you thinking otherwise.

He turns his face to capture your lips as you’re nestled in his neck. “Say it.” He murmurs into your lips, curating a loving, gentle kiss.

Your heart flutters at the soft kiss. “Say what?” you ask while pursing your lips into his. Your eyes big and open as they meet his eyes.

Luigi can’t help but smile grandly as he takes in your pouty expression. Finding it adorable despite the serious conversation. His thumb runs over your lower lip, looking at you with deep affection. “That I don’t want that life. That I want you.” Luigi affirms with firm delicacy, while his eyes bore into yours. Wanting to affirm to you that he doesn’t want that eloquent lifestyle, especially if he would feel forced to live it with the wrong partner, he wants what’s right. And you’re what’s right for him. He knows it.

“Okayyy.” your cheeks flare up at his words, heart beating fiercely against your chest. Nuzzling your forehead with his as you melt.

Luigi nudges his nose against yours with a smile. His face lightens up at your childish expressions: your cute little voice and puppy dog eyes.

“I want you.” Luigi proclaims once again, a charming glint in his eyes. “Not some phony, picture perfect, girl.” he exhales, already imagining a Baltimore girl his parents would’ve paired him with if they would’ve had it their way. A girl solely based on networking or to pull up a front as the next face of the Mangione empire with him.

You hear Luigi’s insistence but for some reason you’ve let your thoughts get to your head. You lay your head on his chest with a little frown, but not hiding in his neck this time. You believed Luigi wholeheartedly but you couldn’t help being in your feels.

You know Luigi won’t let it go until you admit it, so you barely give him what he wants. “You don’t want another girl.” You let out with a monotone expression, as if the words coming out of your mouth weren’t veritable. He hears your spoiled and attention seeking words as if he had forced them out of you.

Bless Luigi’s patience with you because he knows how to deal with all your perks and behavioral ins and outs. He can’t help but chuckle and sit up, sitting you up with him.

“Listen to me.” He tries to maintain his growing smile as he has caught onto your pressed lips. As much as your pouts are entertainment for Luigi, his words are serious.

At the sound of Luigi’s tone your face falls at his persistence. “Baby.” you whine out at him, already done with the conversation but knowing he’s not letting it go. He’s too stubborn for his own good. He ignores your whines and looks down at you, locking eyes.

His intense gaze causes your heart to flutter and cheeks to flush. “I want you.” Luigi firmly states as he grabs ahold of your calves and wraps it around his sat body. “I want you by my side. I want you to be the mother of my children.”

You instantly melt at his affirmations. Your face lights up: your eyes, your smile, and your whole expression. You wrap your arms around your neck and get comfier atop of his lap.

Luigi’s heart flutters as he sees the genuine and sweet smile that evades your face. A smile forming on him too as his eyes glow at the sight of you.

“There’s my girl.” He coos and cups your face. Your stomach is filled with butterflies at the petname. “Say it.” Luigi goes on. His nose brushing against yours. You tighten your jaw as you try to hide your evident smile. Giggling escaping your lips as you fail miserably.

“Say what?” You chuckle, feeling your skin warm up. Luigi notices the way that you try to force away your smile. He cracks a smile of his own and chuckles. Luigi tugs at your bottom lip with his thumb, trying to coax out your real smile.

“Say that you believe me. That you know I meant every word.” He murmurs into your lips, his own breath mingling with yours.

I grin as he tugs on my lips. “Hey!” I exclaim at him as he sees right through my pouts and walls. I giggle and press a kiss on his thumb. “I believe you. I believe every word.” you genuinely promise as you feel your heart warm and stomach melt. Your eyes meeting him after all.

Luigi feels a sense of relief wash over him and his heart fills with happiness. He hugs you instantaneously, catching you off guard, pulling you in closer than before. He pulls back and you see the bright toothy grin on his face.

He leans into your lips and presses a lingering kiss. “Good, because it’s true.” Luigi speaks into your lips, with loving eyes.

Your smile softens and your arms remain around his neck. “Thank you baby. I know.” you appreciatively avow, leaning back into his kiss. “Thank you for everything.” you say in between kisses, while you sit on his lap.

Luigi feels complete and relieved at your sweet reply. He nods as you two lock lips. He hears your confident response and he knows when you’re being truthful. He’s glad that you’re both on the same page. He knows you’ve never doubted him, you just needed a little reminder that he’s truly yours. He understood your train of thought. Luigi deepens your kiss as he’s proud to have you as his.

He loves seeing you like this: happy, blushing, kissing him.

Both of your lips pull apart, creating a smooching sound. “You can wonder about all the what ifs in the world but we both know what’s real and what’s true.” Luigi assures you as his eyes fall on yours.

Your heart swells and you nod. Luigi notices the way your eyes soften and the way you look at him as you take in all of his words.

“Everyday with you gets better and better.” Luigi gives you a little nod, wanting to make sure you’ve got it. His eyes never faltering but gleaming as he affirms.

Your hands cup his face. “I wouldn’t want to spend my life with anyone else.” you express softly, your heart skipping a beat.

Luigi smiles lovingly. “I wouldn’t either, tesoro.” he says and pecks your lips once again. “I love you my sweet girl.”

#luigi mangione #luigi mangione fanfiction #luigi mangione x reader #luigi x reader #luigi mangione fic #luigi mangione x yn

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alwayssassydreamer · 16 hours ago

Text

Please Sir

A/N: this is my first entry for @quinloki roped in collab and to be honest i ended up writing two fics for Crocodile, because I wasn't quite sure what I wanted 😅 but I decided to gonwith this one for now 😁 (and probably the other one some time later).

Sorry for the shitty ending 🙈

Plot: you wanted a rough and tense session with Crocodile and he was more than eager to comply

Warnings: nsfw, "mean" Crocodile, humiliation, bondage, orgasm denial, some tickling, blindfolding, reader is called pet, some praising, fingering, begging, foot worship?, use of a toy, MDNI 🔞⚠️

Characters: Crocodile x FReader

The silk gag muffled your soft whimpers as Crocodile’s sharp gaze pinned you in place. Your wrists and ankles burnt slightly from the tight knots, but it was the weight of his presence that made your heart race. The undeniable authority he wielded over you.

Crocodile watched you, bound, blindfolded, trembling under his power with something close to amusement in his cold eyes. The silk ropes had left angry red marks along your skin, your chest rising and falling with shallow, uneven breaths.

“You break so beautifully,” he murmured, crouching again by your feet. “But we’re not finished.”

You felt his hand wrap around your ankle, thumb stroking your heel almost affectionately before he grabbed your foot with enough force to hold it still. His warm breath ghosted over your arch, and you stiffened instinctively.

“So sensitive” he mocked.

His tongue flicked out, tracing an agonizingly slow path along your sole. The sensation was maddening, humiliating and your body jolted against the restraints. Then his teeth scraped your arch, not hard, but enough to send a wave of helpless laughter bubbling past the gag. You tried to shake your foot free, but he only gripped it tighter.

“You’ll remain still and take what I give you,” he growled. “Even if it drives you insane.”

You squirmed, whimpered, tears slipped from beneath the blindfold, and Crocodile - he just chuckled.

“You can’t escape me, pet. Not these ropes. Not my touch. Not even yourself.”

You jerked again when his lips trailed over your ankle up your shin to your knee, slow and mocking before he bit your kneecap, followed by a kiss and a lick along your inner thigh that had your back arching as good as you could.

“And after everything,” he continued, voice now low and silken, “you’re still wet for me, aren’t you?”

His tone was thick with venomous pride as he switched to your other leg, repeating the torment. You sobbed into the gag, more from overwhelming sensation than pain. His hands were cruel, but his mouth was reverent, kissing, licking, praising every inch like your submission was something sacred.

“This is what obedience looks like,” he whispered, placing a kiss to your knee and licking your inner thigh again. “Raw. Helpless. Beautiful.”

And you, shaking, aching, humiliated, could do nothing but endure. Nothing but burn because this was Crocodile’s game.

“Pretty little pet.”

Crocodile’s voice was calm, dangerously so, as he looked down on you. You were on the edge now, chest heaving, face flushed beneath the blindfold. His hand hadn’t stopped, his fingers were dancing from your arch to your knee and up your thighs stopping right at the crease of your thighs but never giving you more, never going where you wanted him. You were begging, moaning and gasping but it was all silenced through the gag.

“Can’t take it anymore?” he mocked, tone sharp and smug. “Too much for you? But you’re mine. You don’t get to decide when it ends.”

Your muscles ached from struggling against the ropes, your mind slipped between humiliation and overstimulation. Then he striked harder, his teeth grazed your inner thighs while his fingers scraped along your waist and hips - ticklish, tormenting, invasive, causing muffled groans and laughter to fill the room.

“You thought I was going to worship you?” he chuckled darkly. “No, pet. This isn’t for you. This is for me because I enjoy watching you fall apart.”

You pulled at the ropes trying to buck your hips to get you closer to him but he pinned you down with brutal precision, and his voice turned to a growl.

“You’ll give me what I want.” He said firmly before lifting his gaze up to you while one of his fingers traced over your core.

“Beg.”

You froze at his words.

“I want to hear it,” he hissed, pulling the gag roughly from your lips. The silk dropped to the floor with a soft whisper that contrasted the steel in his command. “Say it.”

Your throat was dry and your voice shaking.

“Please… Sir…” you rasped quietly.

He growled with satisfaction.

“Say it again.”

“Please,” you gasped, tears streaking your cheeks, the shame blistering, “Please, Si, don’t stop… I—I'll do anything, just—”

“Oh, I know you will.” His voice wass molten, thick with sadistic pleasure. “Because you belong to me. And I haven’t even begun to ruin you.”

His fingers moved between your legs finding you already slick and warm. He growled softly at how your body shivered when he pressed two thick fingers into your core, tormenting and yet igniting a fire between your legs before pulling them back out making you whimper only to feel his face lean closer and him lick over your core, just enough to drive you insane, to make you moan, to make you arch your back as his tongue moved slowly ever so slowly over your folds before his hand spread you open and his tongue tormented your sensitive clit.

You cried out in raw shock, hips jerking, body no longer your own. His laugh was deep and cruel as he continued biting, stroking, sucking, kissing with a horrible precision but never giving you enough to get you to that sweet release you were craving.

“You’ll remember this every time you walk,” he murmured biting you, “every step a reminder that you were owned.”

His hand moved between your thighs again one finger teasing over your lips before he slowly pushed one thick finger deep inside while his tongue was pressing against your clit. You moaned, heart rate picking up it felt so good just a little more, just a little deeper, a little caster, so close you were so close......but then……..everything stopped.

"Not yet," he whispered. "Not until you really learn to beg."

You were shaking, mind hazy, body soaked in sweat, nerves on fire. The licking, the biting, the torment, it was all built into a single pulsing, unbearable ache between your legs.

You were right there, right on the edge, gasping and begging.

“Please, Sir Crocodile,” you whispered, voice cracked and ruined. “Please… I need it…”

You suddenly felt him smirk against your neck. That cruel, infuriating smirk that meant you’ve already lost.

“Oh, I know exactly what you need,” he murmured nipping at your neck in a rough way surely leaving marks. His hook traced a careful path from your throat down to your nipple the tip of it slowly pressing against it while his hand slid between your thighs again, fingers teasing the soaked heat of your core, almost touching, almost.

“Look at you,” he sneered breath hot against your skin. “Tied up, broken, soaked like a bitch. What would the others say if they saw you now? The strong little girl… reduced to a desperate toy.”

You sobbed, hips twitching forward, silently pleading for more contact. His fingers teased your folds slowly like he was drawing something before he pushed between them teasing you, driving you insane. You moaned, you cursed wanting him to push in deeper, harder. Just one touch and you’d have shattered.

And that’s when he stopped entirely.

His hook left your nipple, his fingers disappeared from your core. The pressure between your legs vanished and you froze. A breathless, horrified silence filled the space between your bodies as a deep whine escaped your lips accompanied by a cruel chuckle from him.

And then you heard him step back.

“No,” he said flatly. “You haven’t earned it.”

Your heart slammed against your ribs.

“But—” your voice cracked. “Sir...I… I begged—”

He grabbed your jaw roughly, forcing your head up even as the blindfold covered your eyes.

“You begged like a common whore,” he growled. “Not like my obedient little pet.”

Tears stung your eyes. You were burning from the inside out. Denied, aching, humiliated. You were so close. So damn close.

He released your jaw, and you heard the sound of his coat swirling as he turned away.

“You’ll sleep like this,” he said coldly. “Tied. Wet. Needy.”

Your wrists were still raw, ankles still trembling in their binds. Every nerve in your body was screaming for release. And he was just… leaving.

There was a pause at the door. Then his voice came again, low, sharp and final.

“Maybe next time, you’ll learn how to beg,” was all he said before you heard the door shut behind him and you were left alone in the dark.

The room was silent except for your deep heavy breathing.

Your arms were numb, skin sticky with sweat. Your legs were still spread, ropes tight at your ankles, holding you open, aching, vulnerable. The slick heat between your thighs had gone from desperate to unbearable. And he was gone.

Left you like this.

You tried not to cry. Not again. But tears leaked out from under the blindfold anyway, silent, shameful streaks fell down on your cheeks. Every inch of your skin remembered his touch, his bites, his lips, his voice. Your body didn’t know the difference between torment and pleasure anymore.

And still… you wanted him, no you needed him.

The ropes dug in as you shifted, trying to find relief but it was no use. There was nothing. No friction. No touch. Just need.

Just… silence.

Every second felt like an hour. Your thoughts spiraled, wild and raw.

You sniffled. “Please,” you whispered to no one. “Please… I’ll be good…”

No answer came - of course not.

You began to shake, cold, helpless, desperate for anything. And still – nothing.

He had left you with your thoughts, your soaked thighs, your ruined pride and your need for him.

But just as you thought you might lose it you heard footsteps.

The door creaked open and you tensed, your breath caught in your throat, hope flared like a blade.

But Crocodile said nothing.

He walked around you slowly. You heard the brush of his coat, the click of his shoes, the soft clink of his golden hook as he stopped next to you.

“…Still wet?” he asked his voice low.

You nodded frantically.

“Still desperate?”

“Y-y-yes,” you breathed, the word cracked and raw.

He touched your shoulder with his hand, trailing it slowly down your collarbone.

“But not broken yet,” he muttered. “Not truly.”

Then, like punishment, his hand slid down between your thighs again and without warning pushed a thick finger inside you. You were still so fucking wet that you could hear it when his finger moved. Another finger followed curling and stroking in a rhythm that built a delicious pressure low in your belly. Every time you bucked your hips, his hook pressed you down firmly a silent command to you were going to take what he gave you.

Your breathing was becoming erratic by now, needy moans leaving your lips. He kept pushing, pressing, stroking, his thumb circling your clit, knowing exactly how to drive you insane.

You gasped and could feel it, you were close so damn close, finally, finally he would give you release, finally he would let you cum until.....he pulled away before you could reach it - again.

You screamed not in pain, but in frustration.

“Please, Sir—I’ll say anything—do anything—please, please, I need to—”

His fingers, wet from you, snapped tight around your chin.

“That’s better,” he snarled. “But you’ll stay tied. You’ll stay wet. And you’ll suffer for me.”

You whimpered not even trying to hide yourdesperation anymore and Crocodile smirked you couldn’t see it through the blindfold but you knew it, hell you could feel it.

“Now we’re getting somewhere.”

You were shaking, desperate by now, ready to do and say whatever he wanted.

Time had no meaning anymore. There was only the dull ache of your muscles, the throbbing between your legs, and the sound of his measured, deliberate steps circling you.

Crocodile hadn’t spoken in what felt like hours but in reality were only a few minutes. He was just watching. Observed your whimpers, your breathing, your desperate need, measured how far you’ve been unraveling from silence alone.

Your wrists still bound, your ankles too. You were still blindfolded. You were still soaked, ruined and your body was exposed to the cold, to him.

Then, finally, he spoke. Quiet, precise.

“Your instincts are filth,” he said. “Your body craves like an animal. But you want to be more, don’t you?”

You nodded, frantically. “Y-Yes, Sir…”

He tilted your chin up again, rough fingers dragging your face forward.

“Then prove it.”

Your breath hitched before you heard him pull something from his coat, a remote, and pressed a button.

You heard it before you felt it - a low buzz. Vibration. Small. Constant. It pressed against your core, his sand power made sure it stayed there, snug and cruel.

Your back arched. Your mouth opened in a strangled moan.

“Not a word,” he warned, voice like ice.

The toy stayed on low, maddening and persistent, enough to tease, enough to torture but never enough to give relief.

You bit your lip until it bled trying to keep any sound from escaping.

He watched you with razor-sharp eyes, calculating every twitch, every muscle that tightened. The corners of his mouth curled into a smile.

“You don’t get to cum,” he said, slowly. “Not until I say so. If you do, without permission, I leave you tied like this for the rest of the night with the toy on low.”

Tears threatened to fall again at his words.

Your body rocked helplessly against the stimulation. Your mind was fogging, senses reduced to want. You couldn’t think. Couldn’t reason. Couldn’t disobey.

He leaned closer, whispering into your ear.

“You’ll beg. You’ll cry. You’ll scream my name, and I’ll still say no.”

His voice was silk and cruel, coiling around your neck like a noose.

“This is your obedience test, pet. You’ll last until your voice gives out. Until your mind breaks. Then maybe, I’ll consider mercy.”

He kissed your temple in a mockingly gentle way.

Then pressed the button again.

The vibration increased and you screamed, your back arched as you tried to obey. Forcing yourself not to cum.

And he just smiled.

Your body wasn’t yours anymore.

It trembled with every throb of the vibrator still pressed tight to your swollen, overstimulated core. The ropes bit deeper into your skin. Your jaw ached from how hard you’ve clenched it, holding back sobs, holding back everything.

But your composure, your resistanc, hell even your self was slipping.

And Crocodile knew.

He leaned in, breath hot against your ear, voice nothing but a scalpel of cruelty.

“You thought this would be about pleasure?”

He chuckled low and dark.

“No, pet. This is about owning you.”

You cried out, raw and wrecked, body jerking as another pulse from the toy nearly shattered you. Your hips moved on their own, desperate, obscene. You would have been ashamed - if you had any shame left.

“Beg,” he ordered, as his hand came up up to cup your breast, thumb brushing your nipple before circling and pinching it making you cry out again.

“Please, Sir… please—I need to cum—I’ll do anything—anything—”

His hand slid from your nipple down over your belly and between your thighs, pressing the vibrator harder against your clit - teasing and nothing more.

“I don’t believe you.”

“Please!” you screamed, voice cracking, your body so overstimulated, your core so wet, so ready that it hurt. “Please—I'll crawl, I’ll kneel, I’ll wear your collar—I’ll be your toy—I’ll let you do anything, just please let me cum—Sir, please—”

Silence.

A long, deliberate silence interrupted only by your moans, sobs and the buzz from the toy between your legs.

Then came his voice calm, cruel and final.

“No.”

The word dropped like a blade.

And then - click.

The vibrator turned off.

Gone.

Your body trembled. Your scream was voiceless, silent, collapsing into broken sobs.

“Not until I decide you’ve earned it,” he said, cupping your face. “And you haven’t.”

He tightened the ropes again. A final, deliberate act of control.

“You’ll sleep like this. Soaked. Denied. Owned.”

He put the vibrator on low and placed it against your core and stepped away, the soft hiss of his coat brushing the air. You heard him pause by the door.

“One day,” he said, cold as marble, “you’ll thank me for making you a perfect obedient little pet.”

And then - he was gone.

Again.

And you broke because the moment you moved, the moment youbtried to get relief the vibrator slipped and fell away giving you nothing but a small buzz against the mattress now.

You didn’t remember when you stopped crying. You just remembered going quiet.

Your body ached, tight, raw and wet. The ropes were a constant reminder of his power. Every breath was shallow. Every part of you was exhausted. But deeper than all of that… you still burnt.

At one point you even heard the vibrator die down.

And then you felt it - his presence.

He was back.

His footsteps were calm. Measured. You felt the brush of his coat as he circled you. He said nothing. Not yet. Not until his fingers brushed your jaw and forced your face upward again.

"You lasted longer than I expected," he murmured.

You didn’t respond. You couldn’t. You were beyond words.

Crocodile released the knot binding your blindfold. Light pierced your swollen eyes. Your vision was blurred but not enough to miss the way he looked down at you. Calm. Smirking and definitely satisfied.

“You’re quiet now,” he observed. “Good.”

He undid the ropes binding your ankles. Then your wrists. Slowly. Deliberately. Taking his time.

Your limbs trembled, your body relaxed into the sheets but only for a moment.

Because then his hook pressed against your throat, firm, cold and unrelenting.

“Don’t think this is over,” he growled. “You haven’t earned mercy but you’ve earned your reward.”

He dropped his coat.

His fingers found your thighs, spreading them wide again. You didn’t resist. You couldn’t resist even if you wanted to – which you clearly didn’t.

“Keep your legs open,” he said. “And your eyes on me.”

You nodded, barely breathing.

Then his fingers finally touched you.

Not with teasing. Not with cruelty. But with a brutal, relentless precision that left no space for thought. His fingers plunged into you, slick and powerful. His thumb circled your clit – fast and devastating.

“You want to cum?” he hissed, breath hot against your skin and you only managed a nod.

The coil inside you snapped as he kept going, kept moving, stroking and curling just right. You cried out his name as your climax crashed over you, muscles clenching tight around his fingers, thighs quaking. He groaned low, kipping at your neck, never stopping his relentless strokes until you’ve ridden every last wave. You were trembling, breathless, vision hazy with bliss. His fingers finally stilled, slipping from your core to rest possessively on your thigh.

You looked at him still in bliss from the orgasm that just rushed over you and he smirked.

“Again" he said firmly. "This be a good pet and time cum around me.” he growled as he unbuckled his pants freeing his hard cock and rubbing it deliciously against your core teasing you, the head of it nudging your entrance before he pushed inside.

The stretch burnt, but the pleasure bloomed hotter with every inch you took him inside. He was big, thick and long, filling you so completely you couldn't help the sharp cry that left your lips.

“Fuck,” he groaned, jaw clenching as your warmth engulfed him. His voice was low and ragged. “So tight around me…”

Your scream ripped from your chest like thunder as he set the pace his thumb continuing it's torment on your clit as his hook teased your nipples.

The rhythm he set was rough and each thrust sent electric jolts of pleasure through your entire body.

“So fucking good,” he growled mouth crashing to yours in a messy, needy kiss.

Your hands clutched his broad shoulders, nails biting into his skin, head lolling back.

“Look at me,” he commanded, eyes blazing.

You forced your eyes open, meeting his intense gaze.

His expression was raw, desperate, completely unmasked.

“You’re my good little pet,” he snalred, voice breaking with the force of his thrusts. “Say it.”

“Yours—!” you sobbed, pleasure coiling impossibly tight. “I’m yours your good pet—forever!”

He let out a deep, feral groan, slamming into you harder and faster.

Just a few more thrusts and you were already on the edge – you had been waiting too long for this.

"Sir......gonna........gonna cum........Sir am I allowed to...." you stuttered shakily.

"Go on pet cum for me" he grunted increasing the pace one more time.

Your body exploded, jerking and clenching around his cock as your orgasm ripped through you. Too much, too fast, too long denied. You sobbed through it, your thighs shaking violently, tears were pouring down your cheeks. You were undone. Shattered. Broken in the best way.

And he didn’t stop.

Not until you were completely undone, twitching, drenched and silent. Not until you felt him fill you up. Only then did he finally pull away.

He smirked down at your wrecked form and for once the smirk was not filled with cruelty, not about control instead it was softer, for Crocodile's standards soft.

He studied you and then leaned down to kiss you. Possessive and final, leaving no room for doubt that you were his.

“You’ll never cum again,” he said, low and cruel, “without thinking of me.”

And you knew he was right and if you were being honest you didn't mind that at all.

#one piece #sir crocodile #sir crocodile x y/n #sir crocodile x reader #sir crocodile one piece #sir crocodile op #crocodile one piece #op crocodile #crocodile op #crocodile x reader #crocodile x you #cross guild #baroque works #one piece reader insert #one piece x reader #one piece x you #ropedincollab

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absynthe-mind · 1 day ago

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Leman Russ (Oneshot) - Wasting Away, f!reader

You're not eating as much as you should and Leman finds out... he's not too happy about it.

(Most of this was written between midnight and 5am so.... might be bad oops)

TW: food/eating difficulties, self esteem, bathing, hurt + comfort

Taglist: @druidwolf21 , @incrediblethirst , @bookandyarndragonwritesdark , @saintsylestine

“So you don’t want to be nice and plump for me?” Leman asks you with a hard gaze, his head sat in a single hand and questioning tilt to his head.

It wasn’t that you were against it, just that you’d been putting more effort into exercise, eating less, working on yourself - but no matter how you explained it, your husband didn’t care to hear your excuses.

He’d first noticed your stomach more toned, ribs peaking through, and the constant tiredness and lethargy that accompanied you these days. Fingers palmed over your abdomen and hips, squishing and clawing at them while he frowned down at you.

“My own wife, wasting away before me - what a terrible mate I must be”, he practically growls, eyes darkening, “how are you going to be strong enough to carry our pups if there’s no meat on your bones?!”

You’d never heard him with such genuine distress in his voice before as he pulled you into his lap and curled around you, blonde hair tickling the sides of your face as he tucked your head under his.

His grip was almost constrictive in how tightly he held you, breathing in deeply and inhaling as much of your scent as he could manage. It became overwhelming in how warm it was trapped in his embrace, heat, flesh and fur practically smothering you.

Before you could plead your case again the bed dipped backwards and the coldness of two giant wet noses pressed into your back making you squeak and squirm as the owners of said noses started nuzzling their way further into the snuggle pile.

“Freki, Geri…” you murmur, pulling a hand out to stroke the tops of the wolves heads as they butted their way in until the four of you were entangled in a dog pile - literally.

Leman growled a little as they settled, ensuring he still monopolised the largest share of you to himself.

Once they’d properly established themselves around you, nudging themselves under you with little whines, Leman continued, “See? Even they know something is wrong.”

You respond with a long huff before speaking, “Leman -”

“No. No ifs, buts or excuses. You’ll be eating a plate fit for my Wolf Queen tonight and I’ll be keeping a close eye on you,” he interupts, his tone set with complete finality on the matter.

Not that it would stop you from trying.

You reach up, pulling him down to pepper kisses to his beard, moving up to his cheeks, even across the bridge of his nose and up to his forehead. He wasn’t as receptive as usual, normally drawing you into deeper, breathless kisses, especially while alone, but you could see his sullenness and grumpiness beginning to melt.

“Wouldn’t it be nice though, my love?” you start softly.

He looks down at you, massively affronted all over again, “No. I do not think it would be nice to see you starved-”

It’s your turn to cut him off, pressing a finger atop his lips. Though there’s mostly righteous fury in his eyes, there’s a tiny, tiny sliver of amusement as you attempt to shush a primarch, and he lets you continue.

“Toned, not starved. Toned,” you state, as if that will make all the difference, “I’d be able to keep up better.”

There were many moments you could say Leman was feral.

Seeing him hunt down giant, ferocious beasts with his bare hands, chasing you through the woods and showing you the night of your life, even during the throes of a firefight.

You’d never seen him feral like this before.

His eyes blazed with incredulous anger, like you’d betrayed him, like he’d lost you to some invisible enemy.

All of his muscles were pulled taught, straining but impossibly still.

“Toned.” he spat out, “I don’t care if you weigh more than a great wolf as long as you’re healthy and eating. You need some fat to be healthy, to protect all those squishy organs. To protect your muscles.”

You could have sworn his voice shook a little towards the end, wavering slightly.

It brought up a great ball of guilt and shame in your throat, threatening to bring you to the edge of tears with him.

His words soothed some part of you that you never wanted to talk about, or even acknowledge. You could never hope to keep up with him or his sons, but you felt behind even other baselines.

Never good enough for yourself - let alone good enough for the mighty Wolf King.

His pampering, his kindness and love for you had only softened you more, and as the years passed you saw your body change. You knew you weren’t a teen anymore, that your body would develop and grow - you knew even that a bit of fat was necessary, good for you, but you just couldn’t seem to tell your brain that as you looked in the mirror.

You knew he’d always love you as you were, but to see it so clearly on his face, the pain, the heartbreak, the love he held for you? Tears were rolling down your face before you could stop them.

They were hot, ugly tears that came flooding down in great torrents as you threw yourself head first into his chest, which he gladly allowed, his arms cradling you gently as he began to softly whisper affirmations into your hair.

Your tears became hiccupped sobs, and Leman’s hands started gently trailing up and down your back, “that’s it, let it all out,” he whispered, and slowly his murmurs shifted to humming - an old Fenrisian lullaby you could barely remember the words to.

The tears didn’t stop completely, but you could feel them come to slow as you lay there, completely boneless with your face smushed into his chest, the hiccups slowly subsiding.

It helped that Freki had leapt up with a yelp, paws digging into Leman’s thigh and started eagerly licking at your face and his chest, cleaning up the tears as fast as they came. You didn’t have the strength to shove him away, and your husband seemed quite content to let the assault continue. Eventually, a few laughs mixed into your sobs from the wolf’s attempt to cheer you - and enjoy a salty treat of course.

Meanwhile, Geri had pushed their muzzle into the only hand that wasn’t balled up on Leman, the downy white snout fur helping to ground you, along with the pur like rumbling they’d taken to producing whenever you got particularly upset.

At last, the tears ran dry, leaving you an achy mess with a pounding head.

Leman’s soothing, however, didn’t stop until you spoke, “I love you so much.”

Your voice was quiet, tired and slightly rasped from all of the crying, perfectly reflecting how emotionally spent you felt. You didn’t want a lecture, or more guilt, you wanted your husband to bundle you up and make everything better.

Luckily, your husband seemed to know you better than yourself, to the point you might have accused him of being a psyker if you didn’t know of his almost venomous hatred for them.

“I love you the most, little wolf,” and with that, he scooped you up, cradling you to his chest as he stood, much to the protest of Freki and Geri who whined at the loss.

His pace was slow and measured as he took you to the bathroom. He didn’t put you down or call a serf, instead personally drawing up a bath and adding in your favourite scented oils.

Usually you only used minute amounts of scent, not wanting to overwhelm your husband’s nose or erase your natural scent, but Leman dumped in plenty, mixing until bubbles started to form as the water ran.

You were too exhausted to ask what he was doing as you left the bathroom together, heading over to the door. He poked half of his body out without exposing you, signalling to one of his sons posted at the end of the doorway with a single hand gesture, his other arm occupied holding you.

The Space Wolf nodded in return, and you could hear the soft thud of retreating boots as he brought you back over to the bathroom again, tub just over half way full now.

He sits down on the edge, gently undressing you in his lap, letting your robes pool at his feet before kicking them away.

For a moment you catch a glimpse of his expression souring again as he looks you over, but his face smooths back out into tender concern within the second.

His face comes down to meet yours, pressing his lips to your forehead tenderly before lifting you into the filled tub.

The water was a perfect, blissful temperature and it only served to further relax your muscles. Leman held you steady in the water, allowing you to loll against him and doing all of the work for you. In fact, the only thing stopping you from falling asleep right then and there was how good your husband’s dexterous fingers felt as they washed and massaged every inch of you - even still your eyes were beginning to slip shut.

“Not just yet, love,” he says, lifting you out of the water.

The sharp cold of the air has you whining, reaching out for Leman’s warmth to take its place, but much to your chargain he holds you out. Only a second later and you’re being wrapped in a warm fluffy towel that was so huge it must have surely been one of his, but it allowed him to securely wrap you up in layers of fabric.

He finally deposits you on the bed, half propped against the headboard and heads to wait by the door.

Freki and Geri pounce, quite literally, on the opportunity to snuggle you again, each coming around and creating a nest around you.

Leman has to peel them off as he returns to your side a few moments later, returning with a huge tray of food in hand.

You want to resist as he picks up a handful of dried fruits, clearly intent on feeding you by hand. Something must show on your face that betrays you, because his face scrunches back into a frown and the hand that was coaxing you falls slightly.

“-m just tired…” you yawn out, curling into him and looking up at him through drooping eyes.

Leman relaxes somewhat, muscles loosening a fraction.

“Just a few mouthfuls,” he all but begs, “for me, little wolf?”

You can’t resist him, certainly not with the kicked puppy look on his face, and you dutifully part your lips a fraction.

The dazzling smile you get in return is worth it.

He spends the next few minutes feeding you little bits of fruit, meat, cheese and bread, washed down with sips of juice. You have to admit, it's incredibly tasty and sasiating, especially with the little nibbles you get in on your wolf’s fingers.

Making him laugh and easing the worry off his face is more valuable to you than all the gold on Terra, and if eating healthily is what it takes to make him happy you suppose it’s not too dear a cost. That, and Leman feeding you was pretty great too.

“If you just wanted your big, strong mate to provide and feed you out of his hands, all you had to do was ask…” he teases lightly, his tone soft and just above a whisper.

You let out a good natured huff, but are far more relieved he’s happy enough to be making jokes. Any response you’d have made is instead cut off by a wide yawn that leaves your eyes even more bleary than before, and you’re not sure how much longer you can hang on for.

Leman takes note, putting away the tray and laying down himself before pulling you on top of his chest. It’s your favourite position to sleep in, sprawled out over his chest, you head lying just above one of his hearts, the warmth and rhythm lulling you into sleep.

“Rest now, I’ll be here when you wake up,” he whispers, rubbing your back softly, “... with breakfast.”

#warhammer 40k #warhammer x reader #primarch x reader #leman russ x reader #leman russ

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gotwcird · 18 hours ago

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"don't ruin her just yet, my love," robin laughed, relishing in the feeling of his husband's cock filling him up again, recognizing the full stretch of him in his ass. breathed low and slow now, made sure he was being calm knowing what was probably going to come next. took their baby's face in his hand, looked at her wet eyes and pout, and grinned. "she looks fucking wrecked"

will whined. she felt like she was insane. absolutely high from the onslaught of pleasure and stimulation, basically melting into a puddle of pleasure on top of robin as anton fingered her, already missing the feeling of him inside her. knew she could ask them to stop, but didn't want to. wanted this to go on, wanted to even test her own limits. didn't know she was capable of this, of feeling this much desire, of being this wet. had come into it expecting the least from herself and was being shocked by her own filthiness. whimpered again when anton continued to talk to tell her things she could barely comprehend, just allowed her hips to be guided by him. gasped immediately when she felt the hot, slick head of robin's cock against her folds. "oh!"

robin groaned, stopping himself before he could shove himself inside will. could feel it, the heat of her, how fucking soft her pussy was. had to grasp onto his husbands forearm to steady himself, breath hitching. "fucking fuck," he exclaimed, using his free hand to start to press him into her. slow and steady, though even with just his head nudged in, he could already feel his gut tighten from pleasure.

"fucking jesus," he moaned, a cascade of sounds that accompanied will's cries, her hands grasping onto his shoulders as she buried her head deep into his chest, "she's so fucking tight, darling. hah!"

could barely even believe it, how her cunt clenched and fluttered all around him, a pressure that made his head spin so much that the only thing he could do was laugh. even as she took him to the hilt, her body becoming putty in on his body, robin knew he couldn't let himself get away. so, with a tight jaw, he hummed, "come now, go ahead and ride me, will. can you do that?"

will looked up from his chest, eyes wide. looked at robin, then back at anton, unsure if she could even pull herself back up to sit even. knew she was already so close, could barely comprehend having to ride him. "i- i don't know. i don't know if i can."

It was a symphony of pleas that came from both individuals beneath him. Anton figured he had been cruel enough to both of them. Had been teasing and toying with Robin and Will, distracting him from his own need. His cock had stiffened again in the time it took for Will to join them and found herself babbling against the crook of his fingers. Rolled his hips again into Robin to keep his husband flushed against him. He couldn't even see the way Robin's length leaked but he could feel the heat exuding off between their bodies, all tangled and taut with delicious tension. "I've been rather kind to her, Robin," Anton replied with a smirk of his own, offered a knowing glance shared only between the husbands that Anton could be far worse.

As Will keened and finally gave a rather coherent response to Anton's question, he nodded in satisfaction. Gave her swollen bud a few more strokes before pulling his fingers away. Left Will wanting and just on the precipice of the edge. How he wished he could see her expressions. "How does she look?" he asked Robin as he took a digit into his mouth, licking Will's slick arousal off of his fingers. Hummed with a low growl at the tang of her, intensified the temptation to lift her hips up so that he could devour her with his mouth. But that might need to be saved for another time. Instead, Anton firmly took Will by the hips and lifted her up. "She wants us both. That's very reassuring." His tone seemingly composed with a hint of strain as his cock twitched inside of Robin's hole with need. "Let's see how you handle Robin first. He's been very, very needy today." Slowly, he angled her entrance with the head of his husband's slick, hard cock. Slid her folds across his length as he allowed the two to come to realization of the new position, before allowing Robin to finish the rest.

#will / threads #will / anton #robin / will #robin / anton #robin / threads

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ifugrobots · 3 days ago

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"So let me get this straight," the hallways of the Decepticon's warship echo with the tappings of cybertronian heels, as Eledie was guided around the vessel with Megatron and Soundwave as her guardian. Eledie has now purposely stayed in the ship with them as a... Human archivist for when the Decepticon ruled Earth.

Megatron stopped his track and turn to look at Eledie, raising a metallic brow at her, "Go on," he jeered.

"You and the Autobots have been at war for so long, it drains the energy to your home planet? Now, you continue that war with the Autobot on Earth that somehow is also an anti-planet of your original home planet?" Eledie remarked as she scratched her head trying to understand the logic that Megatron had explained to her.

"Oh you are quite certainly almost correct, you see if it weren't for Prime dragging his aft to this wretched planet, we would not even discover all of that and retrieved a lot of these Energon on your planet," Megatron turned to one of the rooms containing a large containers of crystals looking items and a machine containing a liquidized crystals.

Eledie's eyes lit up a little and pulled up her camera and took quite a photo. "Optimus has been my rival for eons, if it weren't for him constantly stopping me on my own plans, Cybertron would still be alive to this day." He continues, closing the door in front of them, "But, what I understand with all the explanations you told me, that sounds like enslavement you want to put upon your Cybertronian people," Eledie criticized.

Megatron turns his heels, looking down at the red-haired human, with a grin on his face her leans a little, "No, My dear humans, I only want to teach those who defies me. I intend once I ruled this world and revive Cybertron again, I will ensure those who follow me will live as they did before. Those are not?" He cackles and looks at Eledie's face, he is satisfied, "You already know where that goes."

Eledie gulped a little, gripping her camera tightly to her chest. Biting her lower lips, she looked back at Megatron, "If what you plan also means to destroy Earth's indigenous species, you just going to make the same mistake to Cybertron..." She mutters, Megatron burst out laughing.

He shakes his head a little, "Not all, Some humans would be spared... As Slave..."

"Okay do make up your mind, Megatron. You are doing an enslavement program here." Eledie jeered, rubbing her temple, "So basically you are going to kill everyone on Earth but leave those who want to be loyal to you, is it not?" Soundwave's slender fingers holding Eledie's shoulders as a sign of warning not to continue.

"Au contrairé, Eledie. Yes. But like you, I'm sure there are people who question my agenda. But I do like a very bold fleshlings like you, they made such an entertaining pets." Megatron grinned at her, seeing her face contorted into a little disgust.

Eledie was about to open her mouth, when she could hear an intercom coming from another of his commanders, Starscream shouting about an Autobot attacking one of their energon sites.

"Alas, Eledie. The tour has to end here. We will have this kind of conversation whenever I feel like it." He sneered, "Soundwave, you may bring your pet back to entertain yourself. Do make sure she stay, comfortably."

Megatron left the scene, Soundwave and Eledie were left alone together, "Is he always that precise?" she asked, Soundwave still holding both her shoulders and started to guide her around the ships again. She knows Soundwave is not much of a talker, but at times he will communicate with her using variables of signs or emojis. One thing for sure, she will be living in this ship for a long time next to her 'owner'.

#transformers #maccadam #transformers oc #maccadam's #oc #OC Eledie #tfp soundwave #transformers prime #transformers prime soundwave #megatron #this is such a long writing i did wow #please do not be mad even i confuse of what i wrote about Megatron. his whole agenda is just scream enslavement to me

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starrihan · 2 days ago

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Happy late papa Fuma day 🫶

Any idea on how he would use you on his birthday? 🤔

-> Happy late daddy Fuma Day!!! I actually have a post that’s similar to this here but I feel like this could go one of two ways! me writing this first thing when I wake up is kinda criminal

-> Here’s a link to my other masterlists!

༄ ༄ ༄

I can see him being very soft at first. He’d be so touched that you went out of your way to plan a surprise for him or take him out or just give him such good gifts. He could be slow and sensual, taking his time to fully make love with you because you deserve it for how caring you are.

“My baby did all of this for me, I have to take care of her now,”

He’d say as he slowly trails kisses down your naval to the waistband of your panties that came with a matching lingerie set you bought just for this day. He would take his time eating you out until you couldn’t take it anymore, straining himself in his jeans just to see you fall apart on his tongue before pulling out his thick and aching cock.

When he slowly pushes into you he’d lean down to whisper sweet praises in your ear for how well you’ve treated him and how this is the best birthday he’s ever had.

“You went all this way to give me the best birthday ever. I love you so much.”

Also everyone knows I think that Fuma DEF has a breeding kink so he would absolutely lose it if you said he could cum in you this time. He would not stop until he physically had nothing left in him.

He would take all of your efforts and thank you for it, but considering that it’s still his birthday, he would be rough, using you however he wants to get himself off (and obviously you) and have his way with you.

“I appreciate all the effort you put into this. May I ask that use you now as my own gift?”

Still polite even before he wrecks the shit out of you. Rough and pent up kisses from the anticipation of this night. You weren’t even teasing him but the thought of you going above and beyond for his birthday was so endearing and sexy to him, he couldn’t help it.

Pushing you down onto the bed to roughly mark your neck before sliding your clothes off. You’re pulling and tugging at his hair the harder he bites down and watching as he makes crazy marks on you. Would tease you a lot at first, toying with your clit with his fingers as you moan loudly for him. He would let you cum but then he’s handle you until you were on your knees, taking his length in as much as you could.

Would hold your head and fuck your mouth because it feels so good and he can’t get enough of your lips wrapped around him.

“Fuck baby you take me so well…”

Groans flying out of his mouth left and right as he fight to not cum yet but fails as he spills into your mouth just a couple minutes later. Would have you lying flat on your stomach before mounting you, pushing in as deep as he can as hard as he can. His sweat would be dripping down onto your back before he angles your head towards him, kissing you hard as he continues his rough thrusts before cumming in you.

༄ ༄ ༄

-> Here’s a link to my other masterlists!

#starrihan #&team #andteam #&team fuma #andteam fuma #&team fuma smut #andteam fuma smut #&team x reader

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5trrr · 3 hours ago

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☀️Hyun Ju One Shot☀️

“you’re sweet”

masterlist.

season three didn’t happen😇 (im still crying)

summary: You help Hyun Ju with her hair.

warnings: dry humping in the bathroom.

word count: 1978

Hyun Ju scanned herself in the mirror. She didn't look like what she had when the games had first started. Her bangs refused to sit right and her face felt so wrong. You watched silently from your spot beside her as she flicked and moved her bangs for what seemed like the millionth time. You sighed softly at the sight. You hated seeing her so...sad. Her eyes drooped with disappointment and her usually sweet, upturned lips were curved down, creating a frown that was so unlike her.

"Hyun Ju..." You gently reached up and stopped her hand from pulling at her hair again. "Can I help?" Your voice was gentle. Calm and inviting, wanting her to know you were only there to help.

The woman stared down at you. She was silent at first. Watching and waiting for your tone to turn hateful and for your eyes to hold the glare almost everyone else had toward her. But, it never came. You only held her fidgeting hand in yours, your fingers playing gently with the tips of her own.

"Yes, please." She nodded. "That'd be nice."

You grinned and she couldn't help but smile with you. Your joy was contagious. Even with all the death and the rage and the sadness in the games, you smiled at everyone like you were just passing them on the street.

Hyun Ju followed as you led her into a stall, sitting as you told her to. She stared up at you, throat bobbing as she swallowed. You were so pretty, standing above her like this. Your eyes concentrated on her hair as you stood back to examine it. She took the chance to scan her own across your face. You were the most beautiful girl she'd seen. Sweaty. Tear-streaked. Small, barely there wrinkles from smiling. Those only made you prettier. The sweat made your skin glow in the dim lighting. The tear streaks made you look emotional. Still human, unlike some of the others they were stuck with. And, your smile lines. They filled up when you smiled making your face look that much kinder.

A hand wrapped around her chin ripped her from her silent admiration. Hyun Ju's eyes zeroed in on yours, the spark still shining bright in them. So many had already lost that.

"You're very pretty." You whispered it so easily. Simply. No teasing or malice behind your words. Only kindness.

Hyun Ju swallowed thickly. "Thank you."

You took another step closer, your legs nestling between Hyun Ju's thighs. She held her breath as you did, her legs spreading wider. She felt her face heat up from the proximity. You were so close. So warm. So perfect, right there between her legs like you belonged. You slowly pulled the hair tie from her hair and placed it on your wrist. Your hands disappeared in her dark hair and she sighed, her head leaning gently into you. A quiet giggle left you at the sight and she blushed. Her head tried to move forward, embarrassed by how desperate she seemed, but your hands followed. You eased your hands through her hair, gently removing the knots that had formed.

"Stay still." You whispered and she obliged instantly, fighting the urge to press into your hands.

Hyun Ju wanted to stay there forever. No games. No players. Just you, her, and the butterflies flying around in her stomach.

Her hand brushed gently on your thigh and you didn't shy away from it. You came closer, hands still buried in her hair. She let it wrap around the cloth of your tracksuit, around the softness of your thigh.

Your hands continued to play with her hair. You flipped it into a side part and a braid and then multiple small ones. The whole time you did, she sat there. Silent. Still. Eyes stuck on you like opposing magnets.

"Sorry for keeping you here." You hummed softly, smoothing down her hair. "This just...reminds me a lot of my friend out there." Hyun Ju didn't speak. Even if she could, she wouldn't have interrupted your moment of vulnerability. You looked so sad. Eyes tracing slowly over her face and your words carrying grief, almost as if you had already resigned yourself to the fact you weren't making it out of the games. "My friend and I...we used to stay up late with each other and just do each other's hair. Over and over again until our hands cramped and our eyes couldn't stay open." You sighed at the thought. She could see the pain in your eyes. So different from their usual spunky spark.

Hyun Ju shook her head. Her hands reached up and gently held yours. "Don't apologize. It's sweet. You're..." She hesitated. You nodded, gently encouraging her to continue. "You're sweet. Do my hair as long as you want. I'm just happy to have some help." Your smile returned at her words and she let a breath of relief escape her.

"I'm sweet?" Your mind couldn't pass over the way she had said that. One hand wrapped under her chin and gently guided her to look up at you.

"Yes. You're sweet." She nodded gently against your hand as she spoke. "Not everybody has shown me this much kindness yet."

You let your eyes drag over her. She was flushed. Her hair was tousled from how you had touched it. A sheer layer of sweat covered her skin. The tip of her tongue poked out from her pretty lips and slowly, painfully so, slid across the bottom one. Your own mouth fell open slightly at the sight.

"They should." You whispered.

Hyun Ju's hands found your thighs again, slowly cupping the back of them. She gave you time to pull away. To push her away and finally let your real thoughts out. To wait for your eyes to lose their spark and sport the glare and disgusted curl of their lips.

It never came.

You stayed slotted between her thighs, holding her head in your palm like she was the most delicate thing. A flower in your hand, still attached to its stem and its petals so perfectly aligned, and just the right amount of water droplets scattered across.

Hyun Ju tightened her grip around the back of your thighs. She made sure you weren't uncomfortable, scanning your face, before gently guiding you onto her lap.

"Is this okay?" Her words were quick and rushed. Hasty, like the two of you only had moments until something would go wrong.

"More than okay."

A breath she didn't know she'd been holding escaped her. She sighed as you settled on her, legs entwining with hers as if the two of you had done this a million times.

You wished you had. Her hands were so gentle. Her fingers were held tightly together. She was scared to let them hold more of you. Scared of what it would make her want to do.

"You're beautiful."

The words were almost inaudible as they left you. Still, she caught them. She could feel the familiar wetness begin to form in her eyes. It was different this time. It wasn't from mean comments or stares or shoves. It was because of you. So sweet and kind and good. Too much for her to handle.

You gasped when you noticed the glossiness of her eyes. "Did I do something? I-I'm sorry." Your mouth moved quicker than she could process, your body following quickly, moving to slide off of her thighs.

"N-No." Hyun Ju tightened her hands, holding you still. She sniffled and laughed weakly. "I know it's dumb, but you're just...you're so nice." Her words were meek. Whispered to you, only ever for your ears to hear.

"It's not dumb." You swiped a loose strand of hair from her face as the first tear finally fell. You leaned forward and she sat perfectly still. She was frozen as your lips pecked against her cheek, right where the tear had slid.

Hyun Ju's whole body shivered at the faint brush of your lips. She could barely contain herself anymore. You were so pretty. Fitting so perfectly on her lap. Pressing your lips to each tear that fell. Treating her like she was something so delicate, it had to be treated with only the faintest of touches. She almost felt like that was true as she looked up at you. She was so close to giving in. To let you stay there forever, giggling and crying and wanting until you were found.

"I think..." Your face inched closer. She watched you with wide eyes as you stopped barely an inch from her face.

You didn't get a chance to finish your sentence.

Hyun Ju leaned forward and pressed her lips to yours. It only lasted a second before she pulled back. Maybe less. You didn't care. You wanted more.

Hyun Ju looked up at you in horror. She felt her heart drop to her stomach. What had she just done? Your eyes found hers and she fought the urge to flinch back. Her eyes squeezed shut. She felt frozen, stuck under your surprised gaze.

"I-I'm sor-" Her words were muffled as your lips pressed to hers once more.

She gasped quietly and you smiled. "Don't apologize." You teased your tongue across her bottom lip and she opened quickly, letting it slip easily into her mouth. "Been waiting for this..." You held her head in your hands, cupping her skin. She leaned into you and her hands pulled you closer by your thighs. The movement pressed your hips together and she groaned softly. You could feel her arousal poking against you.

You giggled softly. “You like this?” She hummed into your mouth, her hands clutching onto you more than enough of an answer. You slowly rolled your hips against her. Painfully slow. Testing the waters. She responded with a gasp and her mouth pulled from yours. She was panting. Hard. Eyes stuck on you.

“Please…” Her words were breathless and rushed, like the thought of you stopping pained her. “Don’t stop.”

You nodded and you moved again. Faster. Letting her hands grip you and hold you against her. Her breathing was quick in your ear. One of her hands moved up, over the curve of your ass and the slight arch of your back until she could bury it into your hair. She didn’t twist it or scrunch it in her hand. She only held it. Gentle. Caring. So careful as her hips bucked up and you gasped.

“Hyun Ju…” You whispered. She cradled your head against her neck, letting you grind against her. “S-So good. You feel so good.”

Hyun Ju smiled. Her lips pressed gently to your shoulder as she felt you shudder. You were so close. Your eyes were squeezed shut and your words were reduced to whimpers against her throat. She shushed you, guiding your head back until she could reconnect your lips. You leaned into it, knowing you had to be quiet.

“Are you gonna come?” Her question was whispered gently into your ear. You nodded faintly. Her lips trailed across your cheek. “Come.” She pressed her lips back onto yours roughly, silencing any noises as your hips suddenly stilled.

She held you, hands rubbing soothing shapes on your skin. She finally pulled back when you calmed, staring up at your glistening face. Even tired out like you were now, you were so beautiful.

She slowly pulled her hand from your hair and you smiled. “Gonna have to fix both our hair.”

Hyun Ju giggled with you. One of her hands reached up and swiped the loose strands from your head. “Let’s just…Stay here a little longer.”

“Okay.” Was all you said as you let her arms curl around you and pull you into her chest.

#squid game #squid games #hyun ju x reader #hyun ju squid game #hyun ju smut #cho hyunju #gi hun squid game #gi hun #in ho #in ho squid game #thanos squid game #park min su

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jessicafangirl · 2 days ago

Text

The Incident Chapter 2

You and Copia continue your trip back to your home state. There's BBQ and shenanigans...and a cameo you may pick up on.

I'm glad you seem to be enjoying this one. Here's some fluffy times before things take a turn. Have some possessive Copia, sweet interactions, and see if you figure out who I just dropped for fun into the mix.

As always you can read this at AO3 here

Naps can be life changing as you found out when you woke up a few hours later. Your face was mashed into Copia’s neck, and he was still wrapped around you like a pretzel. However, most pretzels wouldn’t have their hand shoved up under your shirt gently gripping your breast. Even in his sleep he was just a massive hornball and you loved him for it.

You almost hated to wake him up, he looked sweet with his disheveled hair, lips parted and face paintless. With the Scorpions t-shirt he looked even younger than normal. But you did have an itinerary for the day, and he’d be pissed if he missed the record buying part of the trip.

You shifted just a bit to see if you could pry yourself out of his cocoon without waking him and give him a little longer to rest but the moment you tried his grip on your boob grew more firm and his legs gripped you with those thighs you promised yourself you’d be biting later in payback.

“No..no…amore…the floor is still lava.” His sleep rough voice murmured into your hair.

“Copia…the lava level has been cleared.” You grinned, brushing a kiss to his jaw. “If you are wanting to expand that already insane record collection you’ll have to let me go and get up.”

He groaned, burying his face deeper into your hair. “I don’t want to let you go.” He mumbled petulantly.

You sighed, chuckling lightly and letting your fingers run up and down his back. You heard him purr a bit at that. “Copia Emeritus, if you want me in that jacuzzi tonight you’ll have to let me go temporarily.”

That worked. He let out another groan and lifted his head, his sleepy dual-colored eyes looking at you in a haze. “You would deny me jacuzzi time cara?” he asked pitifully.

You kissed his nose. “I can’t deny you anything, but we need to get going if we’re sticking to the schedule.”

He sighed, then yawned. “Si, si…I am awake. This is your fault for being so…cuddly.”

You laugh and he scowls at you but the twinkling in his slowly awakening eyes makes a flutter in your chest. You’ll be okay, you think, even here with all the memories in this place you’ll be alright because he’s with you and somehow this ridiculous, beautiful, leader of a church from hell loves you.

You're overwhelmed again for a moment with how much you love him too. He must notice something in your expression because his gaze narrows in concern. “Are you okay my baby?” He asks you, lifting a hand to your cheek.

You take his hand in yours and smile. “I love you Copia.” You say simply, placing a kiss to his wrist. “That’s all.”

Copia’s vision focuses completely on your sweet face. His heart stops for that moment and the emotion that overwhelms him at this simple statement you make is almost painful in how strong it is. He can’t breathe for a second. The desire to say to hell with everything and just take you away to somewhere far from the Ministry and everyone else in the world falls over him. A need to protect and keep you with him and only him.

It’s not greed, it’s not even obsession, it’s love in a way only Copia could feel it after so many years of not having it in his life. Not this sort of love, not this pure and freely given. Not the kind that you have shown him. He knows it’s special, he knows it’s rare, and it’s his…it’s all his and he will not let this world take it from him now that he has it.

That infernal side of the now Frater Imperator which burns within him feeds this need because it treasures it too. Fire is greedy and consumes all it touches. And that infernal fire that burns within him loves you too, is greedy for the care it was never given through his 50 plus years of life.

Before you could escape his embrace, Copia pulled you closer and kissed you again. It was warm, soft, and toe curling in how he savored you. When he pulled away he was still close enough to brush his nose against yours. “Ti amo il mio cuore.” He said in a rough whisper.

You took a moment to find your own thoughts after how he’d just scrambled them. “You love making things hard don’t you?” You managed to say, the words far too breathy for your liking as they left your mouth.

Copia, not ever one to ignore a good innuendo smiled wickedly. “Oh amore, that’s 100 percent your job…and you do it very well and may I say cara, often.”

You’d realized your mistake almost immediately after speaking. With a groan you shoved him off of you, causing him to let out a surprisingly high-pitched squeak, and stood, looking for your shoes. “That’s it, we’re leaving. You’ve reached your quota of innuendo.”

The ghoul who had picked you up from the airport was the one who picked you up for your fun excursion for the day. The first stop though was for food as you were starving and so was Copia. He’d let you pick the place for lunch as he’d chosen dinner, “Cara, can you imagine if he gets all loopy from the going in a circle?” He’d said nearly cackling. You should have known that he wanted the revolving restaurant specifically to see if it would make his brother barf.

You’d chosen a BBQ place for lunch. Copia liked BBQ but he’d not had a chance to try it often. So this was an opportunity for him to try the St. Louis style which was one of the few better memories you had of growing up in the area.

The restaurant was busy, but you were able to get a decent booth. Your waitress came bounding over, her accent reminding you of your high school days. It was bittersweet to hear but you focused instead on the wide eyed and gleeful expression on Copia’s face as he took in the laminated menu that was huge.

When you glanced away from him you saw a few of the faces around staring at the two of you. A number of them were wearing familiar red baseball caps. Others weren’t but still were staring with cold eyes. The judgement was thick. You could feel some of them seething with it. It reminded you so much of your family, some of the things you had heard said in passing as a child growing up. Horrible, racist comments that were simply the norm or dispersions on anyone even remotely different. Your family saw nothing wrong with doing it in front of a child, impressionable and young.

You wondered if you’d made a mistake. Maybe you should have just ordered in to the hotel room. Maybe you should have just stayed back at the Ministry. Maybe…

Before you could spiral down into the what if’s and possibility of rushing back home you felt gloved fingers grasping yours on the table top. You turned back and found Copia was still looking at the menu, but his hand gave yours a squeeze. “Tesoro mio, come back to me.” He said, still looking at the menu. “Pay the stares no heed. You are here with me, and I will let nothing happen. Picture them naked if you must…but not the one in the corner, trust me, you won’t be able to eat the delicious food when it arrives.”

You looked at him, lips parted in shock. “How…how…how do you even do that?”

He glanced up at you from the menu then, green and white gaze sparkling in the light from the blue shaded bulb hanging above the table. His smile was only for you. “Practice. Also knowing who is, for want of a better term, on the side of the angels, si?” Copia brought your hand to his lips and kissed your knuckles, still not sparing a glance to anyone else in the restaurant. “Let them stew in their hate. They are the ones in misery, not us. They want to believe they are the good people, the right people. Because all they have is their hate to keep them warm at night. I have you, you have me. We have our familia, my flock, and my dark lord who sees that hypocrisy and laughs.”

His smile turned melancholy for a moment, just a hint of sadness which muted the beloved sparkle as you watched. His fingers tightened on yours a little more. “And when that hate cuts away their family because they know the truth, then we will be there for those that can see it. That run from that hate because they know it is wrong. We will welcome them with open arms and hearts, to show them that love is stronger. You will welcome them and so will I tesoro, into our familia. And they will not need to be afraid anymore either, just like you do not have to be afraid, si?”

You felt your eyes grow teary. You didn’t know how he did this, where he pulled the patience from or the faith in humanity from because you’d lost it so often. Again, you were reminded of the hypocrisy that was the many so-called believers in the Bible and how they corrupted the teachings of love your neighbor, be good to one another, help your fellow man and how the “bad guy” satanist was the one talking about love and acceptance.

You squeezed his gloved fingers back, jade and ivory gaze meeting yours. “Ti amo mio principe.” You said, still not sure how you had found this magical being that was across from you, but glad every day you did.

For his part Copia drank in the pure affection and love that he saw in your eyes like an addict. Hearing those words from your sweet lips would never stop making his heart flutter like a bird in his rib cage. He smiled, giving you a saucy wink. “I know.” He replied.

“Did you just Star Wars me?” You asked him grinning from above your menu.

The Frater sighed in happiness. “Amore mio, truly you are my dream made real.” He fell in love more every day but especially when you understood his overwhelmingly pop culture filled sense of humor and laughed at his idiocy.

You raised a brow, glancing back to the menu. “Hmm, keep it up and I swear I’ll go out and buy a Slave Leia bikini.”

Copia nearly fell out of his chair. “What....you...you promise?”

You met his wide stare with an indecent grin of your own. “I didn’t say I’d be the one wearing it.”

Okay, he had to grab the table top before he did fall into the floor. “Understood...” He muttered, going back to the menu. Below the table you stroked the toe of your Converse up his ankle, glancing over one more time to see his eyes widen again. “Sith witch...” He grumbled and you laughed again. It was music to his ears.

Copia had vowed to himself to keep you safe on this trip, not only from the actual phyiscal dangers that could be out there but those that would haunt your thoughts. And he would be a fool, a jester, a lover, and a friend...whatever it took...to bring you home when things got too much. He’d heal the wounds of the past and he’d see you smile and not cry, not fear. You’d be happy you came and it would let you free yourself of the bad memories and create new ones with him. He loved you so very much and he would be doubly damned if he’d let the past take you away or a chance at happiness for both of you.

So many people seemed to underestimate the new Frater Imperator and had for most of his life. In his later years he’d discovered that he could use that to his advantage. Let them all think he was a silly, unthinking buffoon. He could be sometimes, he’d admit.

Sometimes he would bury himself in the comfort of the things he’d had for companions growing up. Movies, Music, TV shows, video games, they were always there for him when no one else was. He knew you knew that loneliness and you would happily share in his hideaway of nostalgia and geekery. You had good taste after all.

But beneath this burned that fire that was at the heart of Copia. He guarded the things that meant the most to him. That was why the loss of being Papa hit so hard, even if it was a “promotion.” He loved his audience, his crowd, his flock. He protected them, cared for them, and now missed them. He was slowly seeing he could still do that without the glory of the stage but it smarted just the same. He was good at what he did, he’d earned the right to be there on the stage. But it was his brothers time now...a brother he didn’t even know was there and who he was still learning about.

As much a pain in the ass as Perpetua was, Copia was coming around to a grudging acceptance. He was family, honestly the only blood relation he had left in the world...or at least the only other offspring he knew of from the loins of his fucking father. And so, eventually, he was sure...the silver masked 3 minute younger brother would be a part of the things that Copia would defend.

He coveted the warmth that was you though above all the others. He watched you, skin tinged a soft blue from the lamp above the table, as you read entrees and appeatizer descriptions. Everyone still underestimated him. He wondered if you’d be horrified at some of the things he’d done in the name of revenge, the ministry as well as for you. He wondered how surprised and shocked some of the clergy or siblings would be. The little Rat Man could bite...and he would draw blood whenever he did.

The ghouls knew of course. Copia had summoned most of them in the band and at the higher levels of authority actually, so there was a connection to him. They were his pack in a way and he the alpha...the irony wasn’t lost on him.

Truthfully he felt more like a ghoul than a human most of the time. That need for touch, the feral loyalty, that piece of the infernal that was a part of him and them. They would follow him into hell or heaven if he so chose to take the fight to the pearly gates themselves. He and his ghouls had had many a dark adventure together over the years and that loyalty went both ways. He’d defend his pack to his dying breath, just as he would you. And he trusted his ghouls to do the same. Phil had already realized that bond, the others knew as well. You were family...even if there was no ring yet on your finger, no title to be given. You were Copia’s and that was all they had to know.

Frater Imperator glanced down at where your hand rested on the table top, a bare ring finger seemingly taunting him and saying “When Copia? When are you going to take that box out of your pocket and drop to your knees and beg?” He shook the thought away. Now wasn’t it…and especially not here in this place. Though the horrorfied expressions on their faces might be worth it. “Yes, you fottuti idioti, she’s mine. She escaped you and she’s mine and you will never have her back.” He could loudly proclaim and then sweep you into his arms and kiss you like a scene right out of movie...sweet Satan he could even hear the music swelling.

Copia shook himself again from the daydream. Not yet…but soon, he promised himself. There’d been so much change already, he wanted to make sure you weren’t overwhelmed by the…well…proposal.

He returned to the largest menu he thought he’d ever seen in his life. “Amore…how many types of ribs are there? This list is as long as my arm!” He said in awe.

You laughed. “You can’t pick a bad one handsome.” You said, perusing the choices. “Just know it can get messy fast eating them.”

“Si, I’m no stranger to the wet nap requirements.” He said, still not knowing what to choose.

The waitress came back with your drinks. You’d ordered your satanic boyfriend a sweet tea and picked a Coke Zero for yourself. Copia’s first sip had him nearly swooning. “Satan’s dick this is delicious.” He said aloud.

You nearly choked on your soda as some of the tables heard his exclamation and looked horrified. You laughed, trying not to die. “Just don’t drink a ton of it…that stuff is literally tea flavored sugar water.”

After a few moments you made your choices. To no surprise of you, Copia picked the Doctor Pepper ribs, and you picked the brisket and when the waitress promised you some burnt ends, you immediately added $10.00 to her tip in your head.

The food arrived fairly quickly and you both dug in. Copia had removed his gloves and after you warned him that his shirt was vintage, after much bitching and moaning, put on the plastic bib…which he immediately dripped sauce all over.

“See…I warned you.” You said with a raised brow.

“No one appreciates an I told you so person...” Copia mumbled and went back to trying to chew off every bit of meat from the rib he was holding.

You nearly swooned at the brisket, so you were no better than he was at the moment, trying to devour everything. “You have to try this…” you managed to say after not having food shoved down your face.

“And you have to try this.” He gestured at the pile of ribs he was obliterating. “It’s nirvana...and sticky…but so good.”

You speared a piece of brisket with your fork and offered it to him. He leaned over as he wrapped his lips around it, and it seemed his soul decided to leave his body. The groan he made was pornographic. “Oh amore…that…that…I can’t do words.”

You laughed again. “And now you know why all the people from my neck of the woods have cholesterol issues.”

Copia excitedly searched for the best rib to offer you, daintily grabbing the end with a napkin. He offered it to you, holding it over your plate. With a wicked gleam in your eye you leaned over and took the rib into your mouth, lips touching the tips of his fingers through the napkin, and with the skill built of years having eaten the things…you racked your teeth down the bone pulling backwards and devoured nearly every piece of meat clinging to it. As you chewed thoughtfully, you opened your eyes to find Copia’s gaze was wide, and his mouth was hanging open.

You dabbed at your lips and smiled at him. “You’re right, good and sticky.” You said. He just kept staring as if you had showed him the face of god…or in his case Satan. There may have been a twitch to his eye. “Frater, are you okay?” You asked innocently.

“Doctor….Pepper….” He squeaked out.

While you felt like they might have to roll you out of the restaurant, you and Copia were both content and stuffed like ticks when you left. “My baby…that was amazing. Rotating or not, I don’t know they can beat that.” He told you as you both settled into the back of the car.

“I don’t know if I can breathe anymore.” You said as your head fell back against the seat.

“Si, it’s a little difficult.” The Frater replied with a sigh.

The ghoul managed to make great time to Sleeves. You were impressed as typically there was always traffic at this time of the day. But you pulled up to the sidewalk within 30 minutes. Copia got out first and quickly offered you a hand.

The heat was oppressive and moist, the feeling deserved that cringe inducing word. You immediately wanted to be inside somewhere with AC and no sun. The front of the store was already making you smile.

One side of the big window display was nothing but rock merch, faceless mannequins wearing black concert tees, LP’s on display all over. The other side had a life-size Deadpool with comic cover posters and action figures surrounded by comics and graphic novels.

“Well…this looks promising.” You said, squeezing Copia’s hand.

“Si, it does. If you listen close you can hear my credit card sobbing.” He replied with a grin. “Let’s really make it hurt.” He said as he led you through the doors.

Inside the air was cool and scented with the fragrance of old paper and cardboard mixed with the tiniest bit of weed. Your eyes widened as you saw the comic side of the place and the fact there was an upstairs. Racks of comics, graphic novels, shelves of original and new action figures were on everywhere.

You turned to the music side and saw who knew how many bins of records, CD’s, hell even cassettes. There was part of one wall that was nothing but patches, next to it were listening stations. You could feel how big your smile was but then you saw Copia and realized his might even be bigger.

“I hate to tell you this but I’m turning in my resignation and moving in here.” You told him.

Copia nodded, “Same.” He replied. He turned to you, as if asking for permission.

“Go forth and fear no darkness.” You said and fist bumped him.

“Strength and honor dolcezza.” He replied with a nod and then you were both running.

You tried really hard not to overdo it, but they had…everything. You grabbed two collections of Moon Knight, an old vampire series that you loved as a kid, a beautiful Doctor Strange figure of him undead which explained a lot about your taste in men, and then you headed over to the records side.

Copia was kneeling on the floor in the back flipping through a bin of vintage LP’s. Beside him you saw a stack that was at least five inches thick and growing. You didn’t feel so bad suddenly.

Then you noticed a bin that had a tab stating KISS and you hurried to it. “Oh come on baby…have the solo ones.” You muttered to yourself.

Copia heard your soft voice and glanced over to see you flipping through records with a determined look on your face. Oh…he felt a twitch in his jeans. No…public…he couldn’t just pull you down on the floor and have his way with you. There were probably kids here…somewhere…and…oh look at your fingers caressing those sleeves in the metal section.

“YES!!!” You squealed suddenly and it brought him back out of his daze.

“What did you find my baby?” He asked you, a smile on his lips.

You pulled from the stack a pristine copy of Paul Stanley’s solo record, the Starchild’s face on the front and then another, this one Ace Frehley’s. “I was missing these two!!!” Your grin was massive and victorious. “AND THEY COME WITH THE MURAL PIECES INTACT!”

Copia had to take a moment to tamp down the now rampant desire that had just exploded within him in a mix of growing hard on and flutters of his heart. He would turn this trip into a scandal if he followed through on the thoughts in his head. Had he genetically engineered you and not known? What had he done to make Satan so pleased with him to zap you into his life?

He wanted you to always look this happy. In that moment your eyes were so clear. They were shining and your smile was like a beacon. He could tell in that instant you had forgotten the past; it’s shadows a distant memory banished by the light in your eyes. You were simply happy, joyful, excited. This was why he wanted you with him here. He wanted to build those memories with you. And KISS ARMY vet that you were, he knew you wouldn’t forget this one.

Copia grinned. “I will say that’s a very good punch to the kidney of the credit card amore mio. You’ve done well.” He stood and picked up his pile of records, glancing over at a shirt that was hanging on a wall hook. He raised a brow, then decided to hell with it and took it too. He’d not had a new King Diamond shirt in a while and this one was snazzy. Maybe not vintage…but he liked it.

He turned back to you. “Okie Dokie…are you ready cara?”

You nodded. “We may have overestimated the amount of room in our luggage.” You said as you both headed towards the register that was manned by a long-haired metal head with large brown eyes and a younger version of him. They had to be brothers or father and son you thought, though the age was hard to figure for Mr. Brown Eyes. He had one of those eternally youthful faces.

Copia placed his treasures on the counter and the younger of the two gave him a curious look. “Do I know you?” He asked the Satanic Pope.

Copia gave him a knowing smile. “You might.” He turned to you, “Cara, put those up here.”

You shook your head. “No, no, I’m buying these. You’ve done enough damage to that poor plastic.”

Frater Imperator narrowed his eyes, a little furrow forming between his brows. “You will do no such thing. I told you we were going to put the hurt on that card together. So, allow me the pleasure of buying you your heart’s desire.”

He was using “the voice” again. He knew how that affected you and you knew you couldn’t talk him out of anything when he was this way. “You know the upper clergy will have a stroke when they see the bill come in.” You told him as you placed your purchases next to his.

“Si, that’s the hope.” Copia replied. You popped him on the shoulder. “Ouch! Hey!”

Brown Eyes was laughing. The younger man was ringing up Copia’s pile and as you watched the total got bigger and bigger on the register.

“Someone is a metal fan.” Brown Eyes said, then saw the ABBA record appear in the same stack and he quirked a brow. “Oookay.”

Copia gave him a scowl. “Have something to say about some of the most beautiful harmonies to ever grace the dark lord’s world?”

The metal head held up his hands. “No judgements man. I was just forced by my girlfriend to watch Mama Mia way too many times.”

You were trying not to laugh too hard watching the interplay between the two. When it came time to tally up your pile Brown Eyes looked impressed. “Well well, look at this. A lady with taste.” He glanced over at you and gave you a wink. “The new Moon Knight is arriving next week princess, if you’d like I can hold a copy for you.”

Before you could answer Copia slid in front of you, his expression not amused and his white eye seemingly glowing…but it may have been the light from the window. The younger guy actually backed up a bit, a chill rolling down his spine. “That won’t be necessary. We’re only visiting.” He said, the words coming out rough, and almost resonating in the air.

Brown Eyes raised a cocky brow. “Well, mores the pity I guess. It’s gonna be a good series.” He peered around Copia to give you a grin. “Nice choices on the vinyl by the way.”

You could hear the squeak of leather as Copia’s gloved fingers turned into fists. OOOkkaay you needed to get him out of this store.

“Thank you.” You zoomed around Copia to grab the bags that the younger clerk handed you. “I’ve been looking for these for a while. Your store is fantastic.” Hooking the bags over your arm you turned and saw Copia was still glaring at the guy, and you were pretty sure there was a tinge of red ringing his green eye…or it could be the lighting. You grabbed his shirt and pulled him into a kiss.

He apparently was surprised because it took him a moment to realize what was happening. When you let him go, he didn’t have the expression of someone about to jump over a counter and murder a person with his bare hands. Okay, that worked then. You still had a grip on his shirt when you softly said, “Thank you for the haul il mio bellissimo papà per sempre.”

At that his gaze completely changed to something tender, body relaxing from the tension it had just been brimming with. He actually looked bashful, a little sound of “awww...” coming from his throat. It was adorable and you gave him a peck on the cheek. “Now I’m treating you to some frozen custard.”

Copia felt slightly dazed but nodded. The level of violence he wanted to inflict on the douchebag behind the counter had lessened but he still wanted to punch him. He’d been working out on the bag back at the ministry’s gym, he’d love a chance to see if he’d improved. But…you had, as you always had the ability to do, calmed him down with a kiss and some sweet words.

He shook himself from the effect you had on him and quickly snagged both of the heavy bags from your arm. “Principessa give me those, you are not a pack mule.” He said.

“I’m not a weakling either.” You replied, seeing Brown Eyes and his co-worker watching this exchange with amusement.

“I would never say such a thing.” Copia looked offended. “But I am a gentleman, no matter what others might say.” After taking possession of the purchases he grabbed your hand and placed a gallant kiss on your knuckles, glancing over to the counter and giving a very piercing look at the metal head who had tried to make a move on his girl. He then walked to the entrance.

“Thank you again! Your store is great!” You told the clerks, giving them a wave before walking out the door Copia was holding open for you. You didn’t notice the parting glare your satanic boyfriend gave the guy behind the counter before following you.

Brown Eyes shook his head in awe before the surprised voice of his cousin shook him from his thoughts.

“Holy shit dude.” His cousin said.

“What?” Brown Eyes replied.

“Uh...I think your dumbass got off lucky. Do you know who that was?” He asked him.

“Who, the old guy with the hottie?” he replied.

His cousin shoved his iPhone in his face. “That was the head of the fucking satanic ministry dude. THAT was Copia Emeritus. Your lucky your like...not dead or something maybe worse.”

Brown Eyes looked at the webpage showing the very same dude who had been glaring at him like he wanted to murder him surrounded by ghouls and performing to a crowd of thousands. His face drained of color almost immediately. “Oh...shit.”

Meanwhile you and Copia had settled back in the car, the ghoul having the directions to the frozen custard stand and headed that way. Copia was still a bit pouty about the clerk and his flirty behavior.

“Little stronzo...right there in front of me...the nerve...” He was muttering to himself mostly while holding your hand.

You rested your head on his shoulder, giving his jaw a quick peck which garnered you a glance and a grumbly “mmmhmm.”

“Hey, you can’t be mad the rest of the trip about a guy being flirty to make a sale.” You said, kissing his soft cotton covered shoulder.

“That wasn’t what he was doing.” Copia said, pulling you closer. “Not to make a sale...” He brushed his nose into your hair, taking a deep breath full of your scent. “The stronzo was making a play. But I don’t play, si?” He kissed the shell of your ear, his returning mustache tickling the sensitive skin.

“I think you’re imagining things. Why would he...” you started to say. But Copia stopped you, his fingers carressing your cheek and turning you to face him.

“Why would he amore?” He shook his head at you, still not able to understand the blindness you had about yourself. “A beautiful woman that knows her way around a music store and probably has forgotten more about comics than he’s even known? And your with this old fool? Of course he would, as they say, shoot his shot.” He grasped your chin, brushing his nose against yours. “I respect the attempt, but he got off lucky.” He leaned down then and kissed you, slow and soft, a reminder of who had the right to do so.

When he pulled away, thumb still carressing the line of your jaw, you sighed. “You’re not an old fool stud puppy.” You told him, eyes opening to see his expression filled with affection and more than a little heat.

He smiled, kissing the tip of your nose. “Stud puppy? That’s a new one tesoro. I mean...I’m not opposed to a leash...”

You actually giggled at that. Copia of course growled and attacked your neck with kisses and nips which made you giggle more. You managed to push him off you but only just, struggling to catch your breath. You settled next to him again, his arm around your shoulders, his cheek nestled against your hair.

“You did see the guys shirt right?” You said after a moment. “You’d probably be buddies.”

Copia scoffed, squeezing your shoulder. “Bah, Hellfire? Who do you think knows more about Hellfire? I should have a club...not that loser.”

#ghost #the band ghost #tobias forge #cardinal copia #papa emeritus iv #copia #perpetua ghost #papa v perpetua #nameless ghouls #ghost fanfic

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s0kks · 3 days ago

Text

I Can’t Handle Change

Shadow Angst

If you ship Shadow x Maria, leave.

==================================

Sonic and Maria were running around the indoors of the Wachowski residence, playing endless games of tag with each other. The sun shimmered through the windows and set a soft glow on the two, emphasizing their bright smiles.

The light perfectly captured their beauty and energy, casting a dark shadow that loomed over another hedgehog. Shadow stood, leaning against the wall as he watched the others lilt around the dining table. He watched them as they ignored his presence, only focusing on each other and not *him*.

Shadow huffed, bringing himself up into the attic the four mobians shared and closing the hatch. No one was at the scene other than himself at the moment, but it still wasn’t silent. He could hear the giggles of the two downstairs and it irritated him. Shadow made his way over to his and Maria’s record player, sliding a vinyl in and humming himself to the melody, drowning out the sickly noise below him. The melodic tunes filled the room as he weeped in rhythm with the lullaby that consumed his mind, leaning backwards and sinking into the beanbag beneath him.

He gently ripped off his gloves from the ridge of them, setting them aside. Shadow then covered his face with his fuzzy palms, curling his fingers into his quills that have now become a mess. Thoughts overwhelmed him and consumed his mind, leaving no room for steady breathing. Panic settled in, tears beginning to fall, sliding down the curve of his muzzle.

Then, the front door slammed shut.

Tom and Maddie were home at once, along with who he would assume would be Knuckles after he was evacuated from the building for punching the wall. And so, Shadow shifted his paws away from his face and gently lifted the hatch, flopping off of the bean bag to peer at the sight.

Among them was another hedgehog, one he has not seen before. They were a white color with inhibitor-like rings around their legs and arms. Their quills spiked out from the top and somewhat dragged from the bottom, leaving an odd but neat looking shape. Their chest fur was almost like his own, and Shadow could easily assume he was a male by that alone. I wonder where he came from, Shadow thought.

Until he came back to reality, pulling himself out of observation. Oh, great. Just another hedgehog to take my place like the rest of these mobians. He continued to think, jealous of the attention Maria was giving them instead of himself. What was worse is that this boy looked to be quite content, which was what always gotten Maria to smother them. Shadow wasn’t the same, Shadow was different, reserved and logical. He wasn’t creative or necessarily kind, but he wasn’t looking to change that either. The tears still glistening under his eyes proved that, anyway.

Gripping the edge of the hatch, his fingers slipped out and caught the attention of Maddie, making eye contact. Shadow’s eyes widened and he shut the hatch before she could mention him to anyone else.

He scratched the record until it stopped, Maria’s favorite song now marked with his pain. Shadow averted his gaze to the black fur of his scaly fingers, rubbing off a hint of blood that he received from the vinyl.

Shadow wanted to push forward on his air shoes and never come back. But as much as he wanted to, he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Shadow could think rationally, he was a lot more thoughtful than the others in his eyes. His currently blurry eyes.

It seemed as if every time he tried to form a complete thought, it was interrupted by some sort of disruption that made it hard to concentrate on himself alone. And that was happening exactly now, when his stomach grumbled, his attention now focused on a different problem. He had to go downstairs, and not get caught crying.

Rubbing his eyes, fur prodded into his sclera, the equivalent to a human’s eyelash falling into their own eye. Could this day get any worse?

At least the watering of his eyes could be excused for that, and he wouldn’t have to admit to crying.

The sunlight had changed directions from what he remembered, but the shadows still seemed to follow him. Looking over, he saw as everyone else was distracted from the newer mobian. A pang of jealousy hit his heart, but he tried his best to brush it off, rolling his eyes and walking toward the fridge. His curiosity was piqued, but he didn’t want to be vulnerable. Vulnerability was a form of weakness, at least it was to him, and he wouldn’t let his curiosity kill any ‘cat’ today. That would surprisingly make him cry, actually.

Between his food options, he ended up closing the refrigerator door, walking over to the coffee machine with a spoon he had found on the countertop. He was already feeling a bit better, though his heart still ached, at least it was somewhat ignorable.

Next to the machine was a package of ground-up coffee beans, which he had taken a liking to after the first time he had tried them a couple days after moving in with the Wachowskis.

Shadow snagged them off the counter, spoon in hand as he turned toward the others surrounding the door. It was hard to see what the newbie looked like from afar, but he already had an idea from earlier. “Silver” was the name he had assumed, after hearing the repeated calls of his presumed name. It fit him, too. While he observed the scene, Silver peeked around and made eye contact with Shadow.

Silver’s gaze was soft, almost delicate, while Shadow’s was sharp and piercing. A contrast that caught Silver’s attention, but it didn’t seem to excite Shadow as much. He walked away and crawled up the gray ladder in the middle of the flooring, locking himself back up into the attic.

♫ For no reason at all. ♫

#sonadow #sonic the hedgehog #sonic #sth #fanfic #fanfiction #shadow the hedgehog #angst #i can��t write angst for the life of me #ao3 fanfic #ao3 writer #ao3 author #ao3 #Spotify

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preemptivejustice · 2 days ago

Text

Arthur stopped by the door, though didn’t respond right away. He watched the subject closely for a few moments, watching the breath that caught and the posture that softened, the flicker of something that played behind the eyes. It was subtle, but not nothing; it was body language that had no reason to be there outside of mimicry.

But was it possible for the being to mimic reactions to internalized emotions, without understanding them fully? Was it possible to understand them fully, without feeling them? Was it possible to have memorized Kane so well that he could calculate what went on inside his head? It was possible. Anything was possible, especially when dealing with the unknown.

And yet the motivation behind the request was surprising. There was little reasoning behind it, unless the thing was still being influenced by Kane’s request; though even that didn’t line up perfectly enough for Arthur’s liking.

Fear would make sense. Confusion, obsession - this felt more like concern. Concern and care.

Arthur exhaled long and slow, shifting his weight off of his bad leg and leaning briefly against the wall. “… Alright,” he agreed, nodding once. “I can do that. I have contact with the team handling her case - I’ll pass it on just like you said.”

Emotion didn’t live in his tone, as it so rarely ever did, but there was something less cold in it. Something a bit less clinical, a bit more like he was listening.

He reached for his notebook and pen one last time, just to write down exactly what Kane had said. He put it away, posture straightening once more. “I’ll be back sometime tomorrow, most likely. If you need me sooner, just ask for me - my name is Dr. Harrow, like I said, but you can ask for me in any way that feels comfortable. There’s always someone listening.”

He gave a brief smile, just something to be polite before walking out of the room, leaving Kane alone again.

─── ⋆⋅⚖️⋅⋆ ─────────────────

Arthur’s desk was something closer to just a long table, seated directly in front of the one-way mirror. It was easiest to observe and write at the same time, and Arthur had long ago traded his comfort for function. The chair was stiff, the surface was metal. The lighting was low, just enough to illuminate his pages without reflecting anything into the glass.

He lowered himself into the seat with a slow exhale, his leg protesting slightly. His cane leaned against the table’s edge, within reach; he didn’t need it to write, but having it back with him was an immediate relief. He relied on it so heavily that walking without it always led to too much pain.

Kane was still visible, the observation glass rendering Arthur invisible to him. Arthur only half-watched him, for now, mostly focused on his notes; he had to get it all down while it was still fresh in his mind.

The pages of the notebook fluttered slightly as he turned them, his handwriting organized but brisk. His pen scraped in quiet loops, pausing only when his fingers cramped slightly - sometimes he swore that his body was nothing but nerve damage.

It was ignored, him adjusting his grip and continuing.

The silence in the room was nice. No hum of vents, no ticking of clocks, no sound from the other side of the glass unless he chose to turn on the microphones hidden in there. Arthur was in his own isolation, though one that felt more pure and controlled; Arthur didn’t mind it. He preferred it.

Only once his notes were complete did he look up again. He didn’t write, didn’t even move; he just sat, back straight, hands loose in his lap, and he watched.

The subject’s presence in the other room didn’t disturb him, but it didn’t sit cleanly either. He wasn’t like other patients that Arthur had dealt with. He wasn’t violent, and he wasn’t broken. He was… measured. Careful. As if he were practicing humanity the same way one might rehearse a foreign language; phonetically correct, but with something off about the breath beneath the words.

The subject was one of the few things in the world that unsettled Arthur, not that he would ever admit to it.

There were cameras too, of course, connected to the laptop that sat near Arthur. High resolution cameras, audio logs, facial recognition software that could track muscle tension and eye dilation. Data was constantly being recorded, though Arthur didn’t trust it more than he trusted himself. Watching was better than reading data. Seeing was better than reading.

Arthur rested his chin briefly against steepled fingers, elbows on the desk. A long breath passed through him; the mimicry was too good. It was almost a problem. Everything about this felt like a problem, like a puzzle that was missing too many pieces.

He rubbed his thumb against the knuckle of his index finger, in an absentminded motion. His gaze fell back down to the notes, eyes reading absently over them; it was a lot of information for one day. It was more than he’d expected, for a creature that was something.

Displays hesitation, uncertainty, and mild emotional distress in conversation, especially around memory-related topics. Demonstrates posture shifts expected alongside guardedness and rehearsed confidence. Capable of exhibiting empathy, or at least pattern of empathy. Requested communication be relayed to Lena.

Subject reacts with visible tension and internal pressure. Noted sniffles, sighs, postural shifts, when discussing the original Kane. Recollection of events is emotionally significant, indicating possible emotional mimicry or learned sentiment. Chooses to believe that Kane chose to die before their meeting. Suggests that this is absolution from blame.

Subject may be operating on a complex algorithm that includes the mimicry of emotional patterns, but some responses feel unscripted. I believe the behavior extends beyond a programmed response; doubtful early self-awareness, likely emotional synthesis. Determination will require further observation.

Hypothesis is that subject was unable to fully simulate Kane’s identity, and now is attempting to finalize identity through observation of others. Emotional reactions tied to legacy and perception of ‘Kane’ may suggest a moral figure, or type of ‘role model’.

Maybe it, indeed, is comforting to think this way - to assume that Kane had always known about the fact that whatever had been changed about him, his existence, couldn't be undone. That he was aware of the fact that he wouldn't survive, wouldn't manage to find his way back out; He'd asked other-Kane, the one he's seen developing, growing, becoming inside the lighthouse, to go and look for Lena instead...

And, in the end, it had caused everything to happen the way it did. The zone of the unknown is gone now, yet what it had created remains - plants, animals, and... Kane. Him. It. Not-Kane. Lena. A changed Lena. Them both. Memories. Knowledge. Existence.

...Comfort, another concept. Is this what Kane experiences when thinking about the other's possible decision, the fact it had been made before they've even met to begin with? It's different from that weight inside his chest - it feels... soft, almost. Gentle.

Movement follows, not from him but from the other who shared a room with him at this very minute; It prompts Kane to look back up as he watches the man standing up from where he'd been sitting on the floor, watches and observes...

Perhaps he was shaped by Kane. Perhaps Kane did shape Kane, while Kane copied him - took information, collected whatever it could get, put it all back together. Hadn't Kane been around back then, not-Kane wouldn't be here, that's a fact - it had only taken on and mimicked what had already existed to begin with while also creating something new by using the very essence of existence itself to turn it into a different existence.

---And Kane is part of it now. His DNA persists, created bone, tissue, organs, a life; Yet Kane isn't Kane, not quite at least, but he's similar. He is Kane while not being Kane at the very same time.

A drifting gaze meets Harrows's again when he speaks once more, calls him something chosen as a possibility. Something relied on. Something good. Maybe not a someone, a something, but good. It... it does something to him, has Kane inhale briefly before that breath gets stuck inside his throat.

There had never been good nor bad, both concepts feel foreign to him. Yet he knows the theory of both - and good is the approved one of them, the option that's sought out, desired.

It causes Kane to swallow, his head to lower a bit, followed by a brief sniffle and a sigh that seems to come from somewhere deep inside him. It's still there, the pressure, the weight, but it is... morphing, again. Almost as if it turns into a solid warmth behind his sternum - still odd, still not something he wants to be stuck with, but... it seems as if said weight is beginning to dissolve a bit - becoming easier to endure.

---He realizes that he's done a lot of thinking, and perhaps Kane needs to do even more thinking to... continue to function.

Is there anything else you feel is worth telling me, Dr Harrow asks, and Kane... blinks. His arms unfold from his chest, both hands coming to a rest on the mattress instead - besides each side of his hips - and he takes another breath, then allows it to escape through his nostrils in a slow, steady stream made of carbon dioxide.

Is there anything else? There's so much and there's nothing at the same time. It's hard for Kane to say. ... But there is something indeed, he realizes, and so he looks back up, flexes his jaw.

"---In case you are in contact with whoever talks to her, to Lena..." A brief pause, a blink, a nod. "...Perhaps you could tell them to tell her that he... cared. About her, about everything. ---I know he did. It's part of me."

#\\ this is kind of a mess I'm sorry #\\ but yknow what. arthur is also a mess so its metaphorical and on purpose #offdxty #𓁹 || What Remains Repeats \\ Private Verse [ Dr. Harrow ]

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