#write trashy fanfics

[trashytracktales]

Fade to nothing | CL¹⁶

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

none of my works are available for reposting on other platforms.

© trashy track tales, 2024

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

𐙚 summary ──── Maybe the summer break on the French Riviera fried their brain cells, because they've finally decided to simply not care anymore if someone sees them together. But when she catches the wrong stares, she starts spiraling. Now, Charles has to switch her focus back on him.

𐙚 pairing ──── Charles Leclerc x she/her reader

𐙚 rating ──── explicit

𐙚 category ──── F/M

𐙚 warnings ──── +18, secret relationship going public, fluff & smut, overusing French terms of endearment, descriptive language, mature/sexual content, unprotected sex, swearing, established relationship, lots of teasing, reader dealing with insecurities.

𐙚 word count ──── 5.5k

𐙚 date ──── Nov. 10, 2024

𐙚 a/n ──── Foaming at the mouth, because I find it so very offensive that I don't have my own personal Charles Leclerc. Anyway 😤. As Daniel Ricciardo said, enjoy the filth. Wait, no. That's me 🤍🎀

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

THEIR DAY ON the French Riviera begun in a golden haze. Hand in hand, they strolled through picturesque streets, enjoying every moment together. In public. For the first time.

They walked across the town like they were the only two people left on Earth, passing by quiet art galleries and stylish boutiques. For the most part, all she focused on was the pure excitement of being with him, holding his hand had, taking pictures and making memories. But as the day went on, her awareness of the curious looks she caught grew stronger.

The sun is now slowly setting, painting the horizon in a warm orange glow just as they return to Charles' boat. As though nothing could possibly bother them here, Charles puts his arm around her and guides her on board. Then, he offers her a gentle smile, his gaze full of warmth while telling her he's heading over to make some drinks.

The girl watches him for a moment, allowing herself to take in the serene comfort he exudes, and wishing she could absorb even a small portion of it. She always feels it when she looks at him, and this time around, nothing is different. On the contrary, somehow, it's as if everything she feels for him comes together in a tiny, small point, a singularity so powerful that it makes her feelings collapse on top of each other.

She rushes to the cabin to change, but her hands start to shake halfway through, and she can feel the doubts weighing her down. She keeps thinking about the subtle judgment she saw in their eyes, which serves as a reminder that many people might believe they jumped into this too soon and that she is only a fling — a stand-in for his previous relationship.

Even though she tries to push the thought away, the sadness comes too quickly, and tears start to well up in her eyes. Suddenly, she feels small, so out of place, as though she’s a visitor in his life rather than someone who belongs beside him.

Which sucks, because she really, really likes him.

She was always confident; she thinks that was one of the reasons why Charles noticed her in the first place. But now, it is as if all her confidence has evaporated under the gaze of some random people she doesn't even know.

They both agreed to keep the relationship a secret in the beginning, just as they both agreed that today they won’t care if anyone sees them. They've stayed hidden from the world for far too long, but now she wonders if they should have waited just a little bit longer because, all of a sudden, she starts feeling too unprepared for the wave that is about to hit, which sends her spiraling.

Because it takes her too long to return, Charles comes to check on her, finding her in the cabin, sitting on the edge of the bed, half naked and clutching one of his shirts to her chest. Usually, he's not the type to intrude, but the soft sound of her quiet sobs fills the small room, piercing through him like a sharp, unexpected ache.

Without a second thought, Charles sprints over, kneeling down in front of her, his gaze steady, filled with raw concern, “Baby, what’s wrong?”

She feels his hand on her thigh, which brings her back to the present moment, way too fast. Her breath is slightly shaky while her hands try to instinctively pull away from his gentle grip to wipe her cheeks, in order to hide any trace of her tears.

Looking down at him, she manages to let out a choked word that holds so much weight for her right now, “Us.”

“Us?” Charles raises an eyebrow. “What about us, mon cœur?”

She smiles, pressing the shirt closer to her chest, wiping the tears again with the back of her hand.

“I want you to have it all,” she admits, “And I'm starting to think that, maybe, I won't be able to give you what you need.”

He wants to immediately deny her statement, because in the four months they've been together, she gave him everything and more.

“What? What do you think you don't give me?” he asks, taking the same hand she wiped her tears in his palm.

She shrugs, “I just think… I sometimes think you deserve better.”

Better. The idea twists in his mind, disbelief and frustration tightening around his heart like a claw. He lets out a small scoff — not to mock her, but because it's hard for him to believe that she's doesn't think she's enough for him. It breaks his heart, because she cannot be further away from the truth.

“Where is this coming from?” asks Charles in a quiet, but firm tone.

She shakes her head, wishing she would've never opened her big mouth, “I was just thinking,” the girl repeats, letting out a dry chuckle. “It's nothing, really.”

Charles’ eyes travel across her face, taking in every micro expression, “You're crying, mon amour, so it's not nothing. Where is this coming from?” he asks again, “How much ‘better’ do you think I deserve?”

Her fingers start fidgeting in his grasp, eyes fixed somewhere over his shoulder, “Everyone loves you, especially your fans. You deserve someone who matches that, someone who belongs in your world, without feeling so small next to you.” She pauses for a moment, the words weighing her down, “I saw people staring today,” she explains, “I know we’ve both agreed to not care about what they think or if someone gives a fuck about seeing us together, but I realized how out of place I must look beside you. That’s all.”

Charles needs superhuman powers to ignore the frustration that’s slowly creeping around his shoulders. His eyes are intent, fixed on her, desperate for her to see what he does. He knows that her feelings are valid and very real to her, but that doesn't mean that they tell her the whole truth. At the same time, he doesn't want to make it worse by explaining why people's opinions shouldn't affect her the way they do. Instead, he gently grabs her hips, pulling her down to sit on his lap, so she's now straddling him, their faces inches apart.

“Listen to me,” he says, his voice low, “You see me, beyond everything everyone else sees, and that’s why you are more than enough. You are the realest thing that has ever happened to me, do you understand? You're not just a phase, and I'm so sorry I didn't show you enough how important you are to me. Because you are, bébé.”

She bites her tongue in order to stop herself from contradicting her boyfriend. Deep down, she knows she’s flawed in ways she can’t easily mend, no matter how much Charles wants to reassure her. A part of her wants to believe him, but even now, wrapped in his warmth, she knows the doubts will find their way back.

Charles’ hands drop on her waist, resting there while holding her close on his lap. He feels her doubt, understanding that she's struggling with more than what she lets him to see — another dagger to his heart.

“I'm with you, love,” he adds, rubbing his thumbs in small circles on her bare skin, “I’m not going anywhere, and neither are you. Not if I have any say in it, is that clear?”

His voice sounds far too bossy, which makes her flinch a little, recognizing too late that he is far too blunt for the situation they both find themselves in.

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to—”

“No, don't apologize,” Charles rushes to say, pressing her head against his chest. “I’m glad you told me, but I want you to care about what I say, and not what people might say.”

He envelops her completely in his arms, and it’s like he’s just now realizing how small she feels against him, her body fitting perfectly against his. She feels that, too — the warmth and steadiness of his arms around her, the way he grounds her, making her feel safe.

“I never doubted you, you know,” she clarifies, “I was just thinking that, if I can't handle pressure, I don't think we should…”

He tightens his grip around her waist, refusing to let her finish her thought, his heart screaming in agony as she tries to move away. “Don’t go there, please,” he almost implores her.

“Why not?” she whispers.

“Because it’s not the case, I promise.”

“But—”

“Because you'd be so wrong. Because I love you,” he continues, as if it's the most casual thing ever. Like it is as obvious as tomorrow. As easy as breathing. As automatic as blinking. As if it's not the first time he ever says it to her face.

I love you. I love you. I love you.

The words are ricocheting against her skull like he just put a spell on her. Of course Charles loves her. He showed her this through every little gesture along the way, and she knows he means it, because for the first time since they got back, she realizes she doesn’t want to run from this, from him.

She was so blind, but the next time she looks at him, her fingers tracing his cheek, she simply knows. Charles lets out a small sigh, leaning into her touch, then taking her hand back in his, pressing a gentle kiss on top of her knuckles, his eyes never leaving hers.

“Tell me you see it,” says Charles, exhaling a heavy breath.

His gesture makes her feel warm inside, “See what?”

“That you are everything to me,” he answers softly, caressing her hand with his thumb. “That I want you exactly as you are.”

For a moment, understanding dawns in her eyes — the realization that they are real, in spite of what she might think — like a light that is breaking through the doubts that had clouded her mind for so long.

“You are mine and I am yours, and I won't have it any other way.”

She exhales slowly, nodding in his direction. Even though he's able to see the relief washing over her face, he still needs a confirmation, so he can anchor himself to it.

“Say you understand.”

“I understand,” she parrots, sinking her teeth into her lower lip.

He sees the hesitation, closing his eyes for a moment. “You understand, but you don't believe me,” Charles concludes, his voice full of wonder. He sucks in a breath while freeing her lip, brushing his thumb against it. His eyes lock on hers, “You really think there is someone else out there who makes me feel the way you do, hm? Who else is going to be this responsive, baby?”

To show her what he means by that, he pushes his thumb inside her mouth, Charles' soft voice sending shivers down her spine. She opens up more, instantly, gazing back at him, realizing how right he is. Meanwhile, Charles is slowly pushing his thumb further, watching her lips closing around it.

His mouth curls up into a smile, “That's it, mon amour. Oui, see that? I don't think there is anyone else out there who can be this good for me, so eager to submit to everything I do,” he laughs, “Hell, I don't even have to tell you what to do, you just know, baby.”

She closes her eyes for a split second, sucking on Charles’ thumb, her hands gripping tightly on his forearm. It makes him feel in control more than usual, which awakens something primal in him. He ends up caressing the side of her face with his fingers as he pushes his thumb deeper, pulling it out with a soft pop, before shoving it back in.

“So fucking good for me, and you think I deserve better? What’s better than this, mon cœur?”

As a response, she moans slowly around his deliberate, slow movement. He finds it so satisfying to see how easily she listens, understanding exactly what she needs from him in return — patience, kindness, reassurance, and trust.

Charles pumps his thumb one more time before pulling out, using it to leave a wet trace down her neck. His hand tightens around it for a brief moment, bringing her back to him. She opens her eyes, still under the spell he put on her earlier with just three little words. Her eyes are dark as she looks up at him through her eyelashes, the desire in her eyes sparking like fireworks.

“You need this, don't you?” he asks curiously.

She nods, which makes Charles smirk. It’s easy to notice the subtle shift in her energy — the way she presses her body closer to his, and the way her breathing deepens. Charles sees the vulnerability in the way she looks at him, but he knows is different now; she’s not hesitating anymore.

Something flickers inside of him as her hand lightly but purposefully caresses his chest; she wants him to take the lead. She isn't seeking power or domination, but asking him to guide them both through this. And Charles understands she’s giving him the space to be the one to move them forward, because this is more than just a physical need. It's about how she decides, here and now, that she trusts him completely.

They stand inches apart, the air between them heated and taut with silent yearning. Every part of their bodies is tuned to each other in a way that feels so delicate yet urgent, and Charles can feel her heartbeat synchronize with his, both of them pounding in anticipation. Her lips are slightly parted as her eyes glide up to his, a silent invitation he cannot refuse. The outside world seems so far away, as if all that remains is this common understanding that neither of them is willing to let go of.

The kiss begins shyly and slowly. At first, his lips are gentle against hers, a slight touch that seems to carry the weight of all they have been resisting. She reacts swiftly, her hand slipping into his hair, drawing him in and intensifying the kiss.

Then everything changes — the pressure grows desperate, almost vital as the intensity increases. She melts into him, pressing every inch of her body against his as if she can't get close enough. It drives him wild, forcing him to tighten his grip on her. 

Slowly but surely, their make out session turns into a silent cry for something more profound, as her fingers tighten in his hair to pull him closer. Their chests heave and their foreheads rest against one another until they eventually split apart, panting for one more breath of air.

“Forgive me, mon amour,” says Charles, trying his hardest to regain his composure.

“Forgive you?”

“Because I made you doubt us. Doubt me, and how I feel about you,” he clarifies, breathing wetly above her skin. “Will you let me show you how sure I am about this?”

She nods again, smiling, her hands still resting on his chest.

He gets up to lay her carefully on the bed, positioning himself between her legs as he unbuttons his white shirt. Meanwhile, Charles’ eyes glide over her bare chest and the way her wavy hair spills over the pillows, making her look like an angel.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers as he leans over to kiss her neck, then going further down, sucking bruises all over her chest on his way to her stomach, claiming his girl with every flick of his tongue against her skin. He cups her breast in his palm, squeezing her enough to feel him all over her body, his lips reaching over her panties. “In case I wasn't dead fucking clear already,” Charles adds softly, almost like a promise, hooking his fingers on the lace material before pulling it down her legs, “I only want us. Like this. Always.”

She moans softly, anticipating his fingers to send her to another realm, far from any doubt. And her world does, indeed, change completely the moment she feels his tongue at her entrance instead. So hot and soft and warm against her, that her fingers curl instantly into his hair while his tongue slips between her folds, as if that is its rightful home.

“Charles,” his name comes out of her mouth in the form of a whine, sending little jolts towards his already hardened cock.

“Putain,” he chokes out, raising his head to look at her, “Nobody tastes like you do, baby. So sweet and wet for me.”

“Charles,” she whines again, her chest rising and falling with burning intensity. “Please…”

“Patience, bébé,” Charles chuckles, his voice vibrating hotly above her, “Let me worship you, so you won’t question me ever again, yes?”

He would have heard her agreeing with him, if Charles hadn't slipped his hands under her until his palms gripped her ass to pull her closer to his mouth. As a result, he hears her moan louder than before, smiling as he connects his lips back on her pussy, sucking on her clit with a newfound thirst.

His grip on her is so strong that even if she wants to push her hips further, she can't move an inch. Which drives her crazy, because his tongue works her with such frivolous movements, bringing her so close to the edge, but she still needs more.

“Baby,” she moans painfully, getting too agitated that it makes her get up, proppting herself on her elbows to watch him. “Fuck, Charles,” she adds, admiring how beautiful he looks between her legs, lapping at her with one goal in mind.

She tries to rock her hips back against the pressure again, which just reminds Charles of how good he makes her feel. The thought drives him mad and, even though it’s all about her right now, he can’t stop fucking his hips down so he can rub his aching cock against the bed, searching for any sort of friction.

“I feel you, baby. Don’t hold back,” says Charles, his voice sounding muffled between her legs.

His tongue is enough to make her come all over his face, he knows that, but he can't deprive her of his fingers when she needs him the most. So, he uses his hand to split her further under his mouth, making sure he touches her sweet spot again and again. And again, until a wave of pleasure hits her like a tsunami, shaking her to the core as she cums involuntarily. She tries to pull him out of her legs, because she knows how messy it gets when she comes that hard, but Charles drops his mouth back on her, driving her through her orgasm as his tongue finally stops at her entrance to catch the rest of her release. Then, he swallows her sweetness, letting his forehead drop on her thigh.

Their breathing is the only thing that can be heard in the entire cabin for a while, her palm resting on his cheek to caress him gently as they both recover slowly.

“So fucking hot, mon cœur.”

She sighs, still too sensitive from the pleasure that reverberates throughout her body, “Come up here,” says the girl, patting Charles’ head.

He pushes himself up, still half dressed and very much hard in his boxers. Charles lays his weight on her, exhausted, like he's came ten times by now. Gently, he rests his head on her chest while her arm wraps around him and his palm curves around her breast, pinching her nipple lazily between his fingers.

“You’re so perfect,” he says, enjoying the way she gets covered in goosebumps under his breath. “So perfect and so mine.”

She can't say anything to him without her voice shaking, so she gently grabs his chin, bringing Charles on top of her to kiss him. She feels her own taste as their tongues collide, causing her to moan softly into his mouth. Even if this kiss is much, much tamed than the previous one, just the thought that he was between her legs makes her pussy tighten, as if she's been set on fire from the inside out.

“Can I return the favor?” she finally asks in a breathy voice once their lips part.

Charles hums at the mental image of her mouth around his cock, but decides to push the thought deep into his mind, “Who said I’m done with you, mon amour?”

Charles' hand travels to her pussy once again, his middle finger gliding lightly over her wetness. Her eyes close in pleasure, while her arms wrap around his neck, before she realizes what he's actually doing. Her eyes snap at him as he reaches the letter 'R', Charles grinning proudly from above her.

Their faces are so close she can see the twinkle in his eyes, and their breaths blend together in a sweet warmth.

She laughs, “Did you just spell your name on my clit?”

His expression instantly lights up when he hears her. “Planned to do it with my tongue, but I didn't expect you to come that hard,” he admits, joining her in laughter.

She blushes at his statement, remembering how true it is. It's impossible for Charles not to notice that, but he loves it when her cheeks and chest become so rosy as a result. He also loves the sounds she makes when she's turned on, so he's not wasting any more time before teasing her wet entrance with his finger, pumping it slowly, until he feels her clenching around it. Just to make her forget the shyness, of course.

His flemish gaze sweeps over her entire body and, seeing her so vulnerable and willing beneath him, makes him want to run his tongue over every inch of her, to cover her in kisses and love marks until it's too much, so that he can come all over her pretty nipples just at the sight of her.

“Fuck, if you could see yourself right now,” says Charles, exhaling sharply. “You make me lose my mind, you know that? I almost forgot I still have to show you how mine you are. You want that, baby, don't you?”

“Yes,” she returns to whining, because apparently that's all she knows recently.

And she does it again, when his fingers pull out of her way too soon for her liking. She follows Charles, getting rid — fucking finally — of his shorts and boxers with a quick movement, poising himself again in his place, right between her legs.

She swallows hard at the sight of him, her mouth drying up in record time. She remembers the first time she saw Charles naked and how it didn't even occur to her that they would even fit. Of course, he made it work, because that's what a man with a huge cock does — it makes it fit.

The girl follows Charles as he wraps his dominant hand around the base, then runs his hand along its length, massaging the tip to spread the pre-cum. He made her feel so good, she didn't even take into consideration how torturous it must have been for him. But the little hums he lets out as he positions himself at her entrance are enough of a signal for her to push her hips against him.

Unfortunately, the man meant every word when he said he wasn't done, so he won't simply let her have it, just because she’s so willing to take him. She has to understand, once and for all, that this is it — she is it for him.

Slowly, Charles taps the head of his cock at her entrance, teasing mercilessly. It's almost like a punishment for thinking so low of herself, for doubting him, his feelings for her and what they've built together so far.

A lot can change in four months, especially feelings.

He lets out a shaky breath as he parts her folds with his tip, but instead of pushing inside, he fucks his cock up between the lips of her cunt. Once. Twice. Three times, until he's leaking on her clit, coated in her wetness. It is a sinful feeling that makes them both moan in unison, an ecstatic duet between two souls who found each other at the right time, no matter what people would say about it.

Fuck people. All of them.

She throbs against him, the feeling of skin on skin settings her atoms on fire. His hardness feels so good between her folds that she needs to anchor herself to something, and the sheets are far too fragile for her grip.

“Yeah, you feel that, ma vie?” asks Charles rhetorically when he sees her losing herself. “Of course you do. The question is, did you feel it before?”

“Charles…” she whimpers, pushing her hips against his length in order to find the sweet friction she craves. “Need you. Please.”

Her eyes are watering as she feels the knot in her stomach, waiting for a release that seems so far away — he’s not even inside, fuck's sake.

“So pretty,” hums Charles, ignoring her pleading. “You're gonna look so pretty taking me, ma belle. You always do.”

She raises her head only to let her eyes wander down Charles’ body, from his flushed face to his toned abs, down to where his cock rests hardened between her pussy lips. His eyes are locked on where they're making contact, the image so intimate and powerful it makes him want to scream. She realizes that this is a punishment for him as much as it is for her, but he enjoys it more since he's the one in charge.

She gasps in surprise when Charles grabs her thighs, her head falling back down on the pillows. He pulls her closer as he leans over to seal his lips with hers, having no intent to be soft this time, the passion that burns between them pushing him so close to the edge.

Charles’ tongue tastes her in a rush as he pushes forward, his cock pressing deliciously on her clit, making her break the kiss with a pathetic whine.

So predictable.

“Can you, please, fuck me already?” she says, frustration evident in every word she utters.

Her pleas are so close to get him, wanting nothing more than to bury himself so deep inside her, until he feels her coming on his cock all over again. But Charles groans loudly, hovering above her chest to take one of her nipples in his mouth, biting her gently.

At that, her frustration only grows bigger, forcing her back to arch against him.

“Charles,” her tone is demanding now, motivated to make him understand she's done playing.

“Don't worry, I’ll fuck you so good, baby. Turn over for me,” he replies, anticipation tugging at the edge of his patience.

She does as instructed without saying another word, feeling his hands grabbing at her waist to pull her against him. Then, Charles pushes his palm gently between her shoulder blades until her face is buried between the silky pillows. She lets a muffled moan while his knees are pressing down into the mattress on either side of her thighs, his cock resting hard against her ass.

“Did I mention how pretty you are?” he asks, not expecting an answer in return, while he finally guides himself toward her needy cunt. He pushes in, slowly at first. Deliberate and calculated, as if their initial contact is meant to gather as much data as possible, so he can choose the perfect setup for what's about to come — the position, the angle, the pace. “Such a pretty girl,” he adds with a tamed moan, “Opening right up for me. Every single time, baby. Taking me so well.”

She tries to get up by doing a weak push-up, but her head drops heavy between her shoulders as she fucks back against Charles' length, the pleasure overwhelming her.

The feeling of having him like this makes her squeal, failing to find a single thing worth more in this world than Charles thrusting from behind.

“Oui, have my cock, baby, like that,” he says, leaning in to press a kiss on her shoulder, managing to hit her deeper from this angle.

Charles' touch is still gentle, though, like he's testing the grip, desperately wanting to find the perfect balance as he eases into a rhythm made just for them. He takes every gasp and every shiver of her body as signals, relearning what makes her pulse race and using everything in their favor.

She turns her head to the side when Charles leans over to clasp the edge of the mattress, his knuckles whitening with the force he's putting into it. The veins on the back of his hand look like they're about to pop at any moment, bulging from his skin and snaking up his forearm, finally out of her view as they reach his elbow.

He's so hot and she is so turned on that she could come again just by looking at his arms.

Charles' pace begins to build, the intensity in his breathing growing more labored with every thrust of his hips. Each one is bolder than the last one, like he's reaching the apex of a corner, pressing into her just enough to feel the thrill without losing control. As a response to his movements, she starts breathing in short spasms, the world around them becoming a blur.

“That's it, bébé. You're so fucking good for me, I'm not… fuck,” his voice almost gives out, feeling how close he is to cum from fucking her like this, so he decides to pull out completely in order to prolong the feeling.

Charles learned from an early age that every race is unpredictable, so he has to adapt to any condition.

It makes her cry at the emptiness, her pussy clenching wetly around nothing while he looks down, curious too see how bad she needs him.

Her head falls back between the pillows for the hundred time, too exhausted to scold Charles any more. So, she guides her hand between her legs, firmly massaging her clit, feeling her thighs start to shake. However, the pressure is not nearly as good, which makes Charles chuckle at her weak attempts.

Patiently, he grabs both of her wrists to keep them pinned to her lower back as he uses his free hand to rub the head of his cock against her throbbing hole.

“Chaaarles,” she whines loudly, pressing her cheek deeper into the silky fabric under her, mind too numb to protest further more.

He buries himself back in with a strong thrust, making her gasp at the fullness. Somehow, it feels so much better than before, her body so sensitive in all the places they make contact.

With every shift in pressure and pace, Charles reads her reactions as if they are telemetry data on his steering wheel.

“Please don't... Don't stop again, please,” she lets out another cry, feeling her walls clenching so sweetly around him. “You feel so good, fuck, I… I'm so close.”

He knows that. That's why he stopped in the first place. But now he's ready to give her exactly what she needs, freeing her wrists as he watch them fall next to her body as if they're lifeless. Charles then grabs her waist with both hands, thrusting into her so hard that the sound of their bodies slapping together drowns out both of their moans.

“Want to fuck you for the rest of my life, amour. Please, let me fuck you for the rest of my life,” he implores, panting aggressively.

“Oh, yes,” she agrees, squeezing her eyes in pleasure.

Charles pulls out again, making her grunt at the loss. But before she gets the chance to protest, he flips her over, shoving his cock back in while searching for her eyes, a smug smile hanging from the corner of his mouth.

She moans in relief, pulling him closer, wrapping her hands around his neck to bury her fingers in his messy hair.

“I almost started barking at you,” she admits, rolling her hips with his.

“I know, baby. Just wanted to see your face,” he explains, finding his pace once more.

“Oh, yes. Yes, feels so good,” she begins to moan uncontrollably under his weight, just as Charles leans down to rest his forehead against hers.

“I know, I know. I've got you, my love,” he kisses her again but it doesn't last this time.

Their mouths remain parted, breathing heavily against each other as she comes around his cock, gazing into each other's eyes as if they could see what shape their soul have. Seeing her face changing in pleasure, makes Charles fucking into her faster, following so closely after her.

His moans sound so melodious in her ears while he rides their orgasms, that she starts believing honey is dripping from his lips, because he cannot be real.

Charles is about to pull out when she stops him with a hand on his lower back.

“I only want us, too. Like this. Always,” she repeats his words from earlier, more determined than ever. “And I think I love you a tiny bit more,” she continues, running her hand up his spine. “That's why I was so scared.”

Charles shivers under her gentle touch, “You still scared?”

“Terrified,” she replies, giggling, pulling him in to capture his lips in a loving kiss.

The kind that makes the rest of the world fade to nothing.

thank you for reading!

reblogs, likes, and comments are deeply appreciated ♥︎

[kingofthe-egirls]

Psssst, you okay with writing a Luffy smut short? Surprise me, add your own prompt and twist love❤️

Hmmm ok! I’m in love with Luffy so im always ready to write about him lmao

(cw: modern au, livestreaming on PornHub, onlyfans, camming, rich!luffy, food mention, trashy romance novel au)

(a/n: this is gonna just be me completely self-inserting myself. i need it.)

***

Your long brown hair falls over one shoulder, fluffy and tangled from under your headphones. You’ve been streaming on PornHub for a while now, having built your career with OnlyFans and livestreaming. You’re proud of what you do, albeit a little exhausted.

Hey!

Someone types a greeting, and you smile in response. “Hey there! What’s up?” You put on lipgloss, smacking your lips close to the mic in case he’s into ASMR.

I like ur smile :)

“Aw, thanks!” You click on his name to add a gold star, favoriting the newcomer on vibes alone. “Whatcha into?”

Hmmm…

He types, and you give him room. Men are typing with only one hand, usually. You smirk. “I’ve got tarot, ASMR, blowjobs, cosplay…SPH and foot fetish, although those are extra,” you meet the camera’s fisheye, but only for a moment. Eye contact is hard, even virtually.

What’s sph?

“Small penis humiliation,” you reply, clicking through your playlist. Marina and the Diamonds, today. “How To Be A Heartbreaker” is a classic, and you smile. “D’ya like being made fun of?”

Nope! But that’s okay lol

You hum.

What’s tarot?

You pick up your deck from beside you on the table: the Goblin Market Tarot, based on one of your favorite poems. You love faerie tales. “It’s a form of divination! Or just a game, depending on how you use it. But it’s cool! You can ask questions about love, career, relationships. And then the cards will tell you something specific about what’s going on!”

You shuffle the cards, shiny and periwinkle, experimentally. “Wanna read? It’s only $5 in free chat, ‘less you want a longer reading in exclusive.”

kingofthepirates has tipped you $5!

“Okay!” You say, excited. Tarot readings are your favorite. You have youtube videos and tiktoks, too. “What’s your question? I only pull one card for free chat.”

What’s for dinner?

“Ha!” You laugh out loud, “Let’s see!”

You flip over a card. Two more fall out of the deck after it, and you place them on the table in front of you. You scooch your laptop a bit farther away, to give the cards room.

“Hmm,” you say, peering over the watercolor art, “Looks like a lot, whatever it is. Ten of crowns—that’s swords—in reverse, eight of wands, and nine of platters. That’s pentacles, or earth. Which means food, material wealth, clothing, even. What d’ya like to eat? He’s got a platter of pears,” you hold up the card for the camera, grinning slightly.

Meat! Lol

“Haha, okay!” You tap on the cards in front of you. “Looks like a big party, maybe some conflict going on. Maybe a buffet? Like you’re fighting over food. But ya don’t have to be, with ten of swords in reverse, there’s plenty of food to go around. D’ya like barbecue? That’s what I’m getting.”

I do!

You sweep the cards up, and place them back in the deck neatly. “Well, that’s what I have for you! I like barbecue too, maybe I should order ribs…,” you click through your browser tabs, opening DoorDash to see what’s up.

Omg no way!!! Sanji is having a barbecue tonight!

“Sanji?” You ask, distracted, “Is that your boyfriend?” You love teasing men about having boyfriends and such, being bisexual (and nonbinary) yourself. You like tipping on the scales of heteronormativity, in whatever way you can. It makes them blush.

Nooo lmao he’s my cook! My friend

“Cook?” You ask, teasing. “What are you, rich?”

Yep!

Your eyebrows fly halfway up your forehead, but you don’t say anything. You calmly put the tarot deck away.

“I’ve never had a cook before in my life,” you cross your arms on the desk, letting your back arch so your cleavage sticks out.

It’s fun! He loves cooking and he’s the best at it. I also have a bodyguard but he’s my friend too. He likes swords ⚔️

You giggle at the emoji.

“Well, you came to the right place if y’wanna spend money,” you flirt, glittering at the camera. You’re not wearing makeup, but the pink light you have set up overhead does wonders for your skin. Plus the ring light to the side adds a couple sparkles to your eyes.

kingofthepirates has tipped you $50!

“Holy shit,” you breathe, quickly adding VIP to the stranger’s folder. “Thanks, king!” You smile, beaming at the screen. Maybe bills aren’t gonna be so bad, this week.

Let’s go to a show :)

“Gladly,” you fiddle with the collar of your robe, already itching to get undressed for this man. You hope he’s cute. “Exclusive?”

Sure 😈

kingofthepirates is requesting an Exclusive show. Accept?

You click “yes.”

Obviously.

***

The boy is very cute, as it turns out. He’s fisting his cock in one hand, camera turned on, with a sculpted abdomen and veiny forearms. His camera doesn’t show his face, but that’s normal for you. His glistening six-pack and toned arms are enough for you to get wet, grinding in your desk chair as you suck off your silicone toy.

“This is so hot,” he moans, voice raspy and sweet. His mic is turned on, which you usually hate, but this time it’s cute. Your pussy is aching, and you need his cock inside you soon.

“Fuck—,” you manage out, in between licks up the silicone shaft, “Glad you like it,” you pant.

“Love it,” he whines, playing with the bronze cockhead. His fingers are long and thick, with splotchy bruises on the knuckles. You wonder if he’s a boxer, or something. Or maybe just a troublemaker who gets in a lot of fights.

You pinch your own nipples, having teased off your silk robe at the start of the show. Now, you’re naked besides your cotton underwear that you usually keep on. Pussy’s for the OnlyFans, babes.

You’re actually turned on, too.

“Mmm,” he groans, speeding up his pace. He’s probably gonna cum soon, unless you slow down your show. You teasingly poke the cock into your mouth, stretching out your cheek. You roll your eyes up, moaning like a hentai girl.

“C-can you deepthroat it?” He asks, panting. His voice is so sexy, oh my god.

“I can try,” you giggle, and slide the cock halfway down your throat. Your gag reflex triggers, and you cough as you pull it out. “Sorry, I’m not the best at deepthroats,” you slap the toy against your cheek. He moans, anyway.

“God, you’re good,” he grips his balls with his other hand, and you notice scars up and down his arms. He also has one shaped like an X on his chest. You wonder where he got those, if he really is a reckless fighter, having adventures you can only dream of.

“What do you do?” You ask, jumping up and down in your seat. Your tits jiggle, and he groans appreciatively.

“Wish I could touch you,” his voice cracks. His hand trails up his abdomen, playing with his own nipples a bit. His hands are wide and thick, and you lick your lips.

“Me too,” you confess, genuine. He’s one of the hotter clients for you. You set the dildo down so you can play with your own tits. They’re soft and heavy, and you bounce them in your hands.

“But, ah,” he palms his cock softly, “I’m a MMA fighter. What about you?”

“Besides this?” You ask, tossing too-long hair over your shoulder. It brushes against your bare skin, and you grimace. You pull it up into a bun instead. Your eyes glitter at the camera, and your lips purse. “I make content on PornHub, OnlyFans, and other places like YouTube and stuff. Cosplay, tarot, mostly blowjobs. But not—on the wholesome places,” you breathe a laugh. “I’m kinda everywhere, these days.” You pause, unsure of what to do. “Here, let me copy and paste my username.” You send the info in chat, hoping to get an extra $5 for the OnlyFans sub.

“I’ll hafta subscribe,” he flirts, “Can I see that ass again?”

You grin, flushing slightly, as you stand up and turn around. You grab your ass in both hands, squeezing heavy flesh tightly. You bounce up and down, letting him appreciate the jiggle. Your cellulite and curves are one of a kind, you know this. Not everyone is stick-thin and spray tanned, so when customers click on your page they know they’re getting something genuine, and special.

At least, you hope.

“Fuck, baby,” he drawls out, and you turn over just in time to see him cum. Thick bursts of semen paint his clenching abs, and you hum.

“Good job,” you praise him, and he laughs. You sit back down.

“Shishishi,” he giggles, and you blush. He’s mad cute, to be honest. He fiddles with his phone, bringing it up to his face for the first time. You hitch a breath.

He’s mad cute.

“Make sure you favorite me,” you breathe, staring at his boyish features and jet black hair. His face is flushed, handsome, with a curved scar under one eye. He’s grinning at you with crinkly eyes. “S-so you can come back,” you stutter. Flustered.

Shit.

“Already did!” He bites his lip. Flicks his eyes up and down his camera. Looking at you, still bared body and soul in front of him. You wanna touch, and badly.

“Wanna hang out?” He asks, face cooling down. He grabs a towel, and wipes off his belly. He gasps, breathy, and leans back in bed. The covers are crisp and cool, almost like a hotel.

“Sure,” you breathe, ticking down to see your showtime extending. Past ten minutes, now. Fuck yeah, you think, leaning back in your own chair. “Whatcha wanna talk about?”

“Read my tarot again,” he cocks an eyebrow, “And let me know what it’ll take to get you to go on a date with me.”

***

Epilogue:

Hey 😈

He messages you on Insta, and you bite your lip. You’re sitting cross-legged at a café, having taken yourself out for a treat after your very long show this afternoon.

Hi baby 😇

You respond, too quickly. Who cares? You sip your drink, a foamy dirty chai. It tastes like cinnamon and almond milk.

Look up 👀

Frowning, you flick your eyes up and around the café. There. He’s seated across the way, at one of the square little tables situated in the center of the room. You blanch. That’s never happened before. Was there an angel of sex work watching over you?

You hope so. You gulp as he stands to make his way over to you. He’s even cuter in real life, and all thoughts of danger and serial killers and making mistakes leave your brain in one, swift breeze. You grin.

“Heya,” you say, sitting back to cross your legs. Your warm latte sits in both hands. You clear your throat. “Nice to meetcha,” you extend a hand. He takes it, smiling and warm.

“Hi,” he takes the seat across from you, pulling it out with one hand. The iron legs scrape across the granite floor. There's an exposed brick wall behind irl kingofthepirates.

"Didn't think I'd see you here," you hedge, raising an eyebrow. "Do I need to be worried?"

He blanches, eyes wide. "N-no!! I swear I'm normal. I don't--live here, I'm visiting. I have a--a match tonight! D'ya wanna come see it? I can get you VIP seats." He scoots his chair closer, looking up at you from under pretty lashes. You purse your lips.

"Prove it."

He giddily takes out his phone, a very nice smartphone with a cute charm hanging from the side. You tilt your head, and see it's a little skull-and-crossbones. You smirk.

"Here!" He hands you his phone, sliding it across the table. "It's me!"

You see a YouTube video of a wrestling match: two muscular dudes with their hands wrapped in fists. One is wearing white-and-blue shorts with pink hair, tied back with a bandana. The other is kingofthepirates, wearing red shorts with his hair loose. It’s black and floppy in spikes. He jumps up and down a bit, getting ready. The bell dings, the ref moves, and the stadium around the ring erupts in lights.

King shuffles forward, fists up, and knocks the pink-haired guy out cold. “Holy shit,” you breathe, watching the match end after only one shot. “That’s you?”

“Yep!” He grins, “We’re having a rematch this afternoon. Wanna come? I’m gonna kick his ass.”

“Sure,” you decide, not having much to lose. “Can I bring a friend?”

“Boyfriend?” He asks too soon. You sip your drink.

“Girlfriend,” you correct, arching an eyebrow. “Is that a problem for you?”

He shakes his head. “Nah, as long as we can still do shows sometime.”

“Sure,” you say, nodding. “I liked your show.”

He smiles, wide and delicious, before going back to his phone to text someone furiously. “Lemme getcha two VIP seats. I wanna see ya after the show.”

“Okay,” you hum, letting him type. You lean back in your chair, pulling up your own phone. You text Nami, your girlfriend.

Babe? Ur not gonna believe this ☠️

***

[ultraviolet-psyche]

if I ever end up publishing a book and it's a romance there's a 99% chance that the main couple will be kuzusouda-coded

[born-to-lose]

Groupie dreams getting out of hand, maybe acting on them will fix me

[tiffanyachings]

what’s important to know about palamedes is that he got stuck in a tiny room in complete isolation for 8 months not knowing if he would ever be rescued. and he responded to this psychological torture by writing trashy romance novel fanfic

[theinternetisfulloftrash]

It doesn't say if your taking requests or not, but if you are can you please do one where Tyler Hoechlin Dylan and Dylan's GF are hanging out and playfully Hoechlin puts Dylan over his knee bares his butt and spanks him in front of Gf who gets turned on?

Hey, Cutie!

I actually don't really do requests very often (only once and I still have some sitting in my inbox from that... oops). Also, when I do prompts/requests, I like them to be more general so that I have a bit more creative freedom to explore the idea.

This sounds like a fun little fic and you have a really clear idea of what you're hoping for. Maybe trying your hand at writing is something that might be fun for you? I always say, write the fic you want to see in the world <3

[olderthannetfic]

I was reading a fic and genuinely enjoying myself up until the author decided to make a huge deal, in their AN, about how their protagonist is bi. As in ACTUALLY bi, not that stupid "straight with one exception" trash homophobic fujoshits write. I'm a cis man. I am heterosexual with exactly one exception. I don't know why. I went through years telling myself I was just confused. I heard from my queer friends at the time that only being interested in one other man wasn't a thing, that it was actually me being confused in the other direction, hiding all my crushes and desires from myself.

My family was convinced I was straight. My friends were convinced I was bi for a lot of men, I just wasn't admitting it. My now husband was the only one who told me it was fine. He's gay and he had a crush on one woman, once. Exceptions happen.

So at the risk of siding with the dreaded (presumed cis, presumed het, presumed white) enemy known as women, I... actually like the whole "if it's you, it's okay" thing. I don't assume an evil fetishizer who hates queers is writing it. It never reads that way. It reads as a story, just like any other story. A way to be queer just like any other valid option. Queerness is a spectrum. Not everyone is bi in the same way or gay or lesbian or anything else. The Kinsey Scale exists for a reason.

I spent five years in and out of therapy and church trying to fix myself. Being bi in any way was too much for my family. It was "get rid of the gay or get out" territory of panic. I could have a family or I could have my feelings for him. Choosing him involved giving up everyone I had grown up with. It involved years further of "so you can admit now that you had other male crushes, right?" no matter how many times I said no until I had to cut some queer friends out of my life, too.

And I'm not "ACTUALLY bi", apparently. I'm a trashy homophobic stereotype fujoshi came up with. I'm not actually bi. Real bi men have an equal number of women and men they're into. Bi is code for 50/50 or else you're, you know. Basically fictional. Definitely doing it wrong.

Upon some digging, I found out the writer is a lesbian woman. You would think with all the shit lesbians get she'd know better. I've seen people try to tell lesbians they aren't lesbians because "oh you dated a guy once" or "uh, you had sex with a man, you can't be" and all kind of shit that makes no sense whatsoever. So for her to turn around and go, "there is a single correct way to be a bi man" is just insane. Ma'am. Ma'am. You should know that's not how queerness works! You're queer!

This has annoyed me so much that for the first time in nine years I have pulled up a Microsoft Word document and I am writing fanfic. I am going to write so much It's Okay If It's You, one-exception-only queer fanfic.

Because it's fine to be queer even if it's this way, actually. It's fine to be queer, period! There are not rigid rules to it, that's one of the biggest joys of it!

I feel so old and tired and I'm only 40. Jesus Christ. "ACTUALLY bi". Fuck. The world is broken.

--

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

aita for dedicating a trashy smut fic to a guest commenter who was gatekeeping a fandom?

so i have been working on my pet project crossover fic for about 3 months, and i got the courage to post the first chapter about a week ago. The very first comment was from this guest, accusing me on not knowing the lore of one of the fandoms. I was really disheartened and offended, so I responded telling him to chill out because it was chapter one of a crossover. He proceeds to tell me that he "has to tell them to get the f out of the fandom" when he finds a fic that doesnt have correct lore. I called him a gatekeeping bully and then proceeded to dedicate a crappy, very lore inaccurate, smut fic to him bc he was being a gatekeeping asshole. he has now been leaving comments on that one telling me that i should take my fics down and leave the fandom, calling me a pedo and a "lazy bum" because I was defending both my and everyone else's rights to write crappy fanfic

am i the asshole here?

What are these acronyms?

[fatuismooches]

Don't know about other dottore fans, but i love Mr reca dearly and I haven't even played through the new version story yet 😭🙏

Ik you only write for the harbingers, but i would totally not object to you writing for Mr reca because the fanfic area in regards to him is so surprisingly lacking??? (and a lot of it is yandere too :( i get that hes an insane theater kid but i need to cuddle that man) Maybe because of the lack of info around him, but i really need something!!!😩

I miss dottore so so much and Mr reca is just filling in that void for me right now 💔 i love you my weird red eyed dramatic babygirls

I LOVE MR RECA TOO!! 😭🥺🥺🥺 I thought he was very cute since i saw the trailer, and then i kept seeing cute pics of him from the quest and i was like !!!!! And then i finally got to finishing the quest last night and my gosh... he's so BQIDHWQDWQW. He's so cool. He deserves kissies.

Honestly if i get insane enough!!!! I may cook something up!! Actually though i already have a lil story in my head i daydream about..... JUST HEAR ME OUT EVEN IF IT'S ODDLY SPECIFIC - Reca who likes to search for old/barely known films to watch. Comes across a very low budget film reader made with some friends that was honestly quite low quality but the SCRIPT? THE PLOT? MWAH!!! he's obsessed. he needs to meet this genius (you.) and eventually he finds you. only to find out you changed your major from your passion (writing/animation/film or whatever) to something you're not interested at all for certain reasons. And then the rest is him hiring reader as his assistant/script writer and helping them get passionate again 🥺 and he slowly gets insane and doting on you it's cute or whatever <333

Two lines of him from the quest + some HCs i thought were really cute 🥺 (it's nothing spoilery but just in case! it's just him shit talking bad movies and cute assistant director frog moment febuwfew)

THIS LINE. I GIGGLED. WHY IS HE ACTUALLY FUNNY. I think it's cute to imagine him going on to reader about the horrible quality of movies - also, reader plans date nights where said trashy movies are being watched, Reca complains every minute.

THIS LINE TOO ARGHHHHH IM CRYING AND THROWING UPPPPP... THE WAY HE UNDERSTANDS AND TRANSLATES FOR HER IS SO CUTE... HE'S SO SERIOUS ABT HIS FRIEND...

The assistant director is also a camera that Reca uses, so he uses her to keep taking pics of you!!! And then Reca has to insist to her that this is a very important task that he needs her for....... he just talks to her A LOT about you. poor frog has to listen to him be insane about you 24/7.

Just reader befriending the frog in general. She rests on your shoulder frequently and Reca acts betrayed (he's actually so happy!!)

[keystonepublishing]

Why Not Both by Varnes

A long time ago, I wondered if there was ever a fanfic that actually tried to resolve the whole "Hermione and Ron catfight over Viktor Krum during the Yule Ball and in Book 7". I thought, why can't they both fall in love with Krum?

Fast forward to a month ago when someone recced a fanfic in the Renegade Discord server. It was this one: why not both

My prayers have finally been answered!

For this bind, I wanted to make the book look 'modern, but classy'. This entailed looking at fashion magazines and artistic periodicals to see how they did their layouts and typesetting. I collected a bunch of pictures to create a collage that would open the first chapter and give off the 'vibe' of the fic.

I had to discard almost all of them because they. didn't. fit. the vibe.

Same thing too for the typography. An extreeeeemely large drop cap, paired with a big first line? Classy, yet also modern in a way, like some sort of fashion magazine article opener.

And lastly, because the fic does have Viktor 'BIG ARMS' Krum, I just had to make one page look like a tabloid shoot from a trashy magazine.

Very Arms, indeed!

Full thanks to Varnes for writing a rarepair fic that I didn't realize I still loved!

[dottores]

the way ppl look down on oc & self-insert writing so casually is so trashy. like i was just looking at this poll “how messed up your taste in fanfic is” and it was “you read self-insert writing unironically” or something along the lines of it. like maybe it was a joke but idk and it just makes me so ??? bc i see ppl bashing writers/readers of self-insert fanfic on tik tok and twt all the time too and it’s so mean lol. nobody can just let ppl be happy without having something nasty to say ab it.

[eris-eveningstar]

*other people leaving the fandom cuz of Rowling being a t*rf*

Me, writing trashy porny gay omegaverse tomarry fanfic where Harry wears a dress: 💃 🥳 🤪

(Truly, it's the greatest revenge.)

[cleverstudentcheesecake]

Okay so imagine a scenario where Bingge after leaving SVSSS timeline goes onto search for his own kind Shizun and he finds Shen Yuan in the modern universe.

Shen Yuan suffers from terminal disease and is just awaiting his soon impending death. He spends most of his days in the hospital undergoing treatment or in his mansion (which his parents have turned into a mini personal hospital for their sickly child), laying on his bed, reading trashy webnovels and being an internet gremlin.

One fine day (a day which is not infact a fine day for SY but just another bad pain day), the protagonist of his "most-hated" webnovel, Luo Binghe suddenly rips open a portal with a fierce looking Xin Mo into his bedroom, claiming him to be his scum of a Shizun.

Blackened Bingge with his ruthless heart proceeds to be unkind to SY, unaware of SY's predicament. When SY starts to appear in pain, cynical Bingge considers it to be a ploy to divert his attention as a part of an escape plan. He is so desperate to take SY with him to his world that he doesn't take into account SY's choice, hesitation, fear and detoriating health condition. Since, Bingge is so used to being rough with demons and cultivators, it comes to him as a shock when fragile SY's wrist bone cracks just from a strong grip. He then force-feeds his blood to SY to heal his bone, but the blood parasites soon (a little too soon) start dieing inside SY from exhaustion. Finally it hits Bingge that there is something severely wrong with his kind Shizun.

He tries to feed SY more of his blood and SY, at last, passes out from heavy stress and shock. The more he tries to help SY, the more his health condition detoriates, and to Bingge's utter surprise, his blood parasites aren't being of much help. Bingge is absolutely lost as he had never heard of such a kind of malady, that couldn't even be cured by a Heavenly Demon's blood, in his world.

What is the use of such terrible amounts of power if it couldn't heal the one person he means to? What is the benefit of being the emperor of the three realms and the master of an invincible dimension-cutting sword if it won't help him heal his kind Shizun? What is the use of everything he has achieved if it doesn't measure upto the love that he received from his kind Shizun?

Why is he always the recipient of the bad end of every deal?

Why can't he heal his kind Shizun?

Is this the price he has to pay for being cruel to his cruel Shizun? To watch his kind innocent Shizun suffer, helplessly?

- The angst of it all... delicious!

If anyone has any fanfic recommendation build around similar plot, pls share the link with me😭

And if anyone wants to write a fanfic on this topic, feel free to take this up as your inspiration, but, pls don't forget to share the link of the fic with me.

[roseeyes]

Hey guys, I’m new to writing this kind of fanfic so take it or leave it and let me know if you want more

Summary: Logan Howlett is your new roommate in a New York City mutant base. You want to learn more about him but he’s not ready to open up yet.

You just walked Into your new shared living space with your realtor bestie Amara who is currently trying to sell you this flat in the NYC mutant base.As you walk in you see two hot middle aged men sitting on the couch one with burned skin the other had fluffy hair and a chain around his neck. “Hi I’m Wade and this is Wolvie I mean Logan oopsie!” Wade is laughing while holding Logan’s whiskey up in the air Logan growls at Wade trying to get his alcohol back because he can’t do anything sober.

Hi im y/n Amara didn’t tell me id have two roommates . “oh I live Nextdoor Logan is your roommate but we will see each other a lot I promise” wade says, he looked you up and down taking you in he can’t help but notice how your tits are practically popping out of your crop top.

Amara says I’ll let you meet your new friends while laughing and walking away. you look to Logan first noticing his gruff and mean look softens when he looks at you. Logan slightly smiles asking you if you want anything to drink he usually could never get this hot and bothered over a girl but you were different he needed to know more of you . You nod while smiling you immediately know you need to get Logan alone with you so you could learn more about him.

“I’m going back to my flat but I’ll see you tomorrow wolvie and friend don’t have two much fun without me!” Wade says while making a sexual innuendo with his fingers. Logan scowls but you notice that he definitely has some sort of a soft spot for wade.

“Sorry about him” Logan says in his gruff and deep voice

It’s ok he seems really friendly. “if you can call that friendly” Logan says while snickering to himself.

When you go to sit on the couch you notice Logan’s claws and ask about them Logan explains he’s part of a group called the X-men you explain how you are also a mutant with the ability to heal in record time and you can’t die. Logan says that you should meet Charles soon that the X-men could use a girl like you which makes you blush.

Logan explains how this building was built to help protect mutants from the outside world and that’s why you both decided to start living there.

As you get to know some of who Logan was and the night went on you eventually stopped chatting deciding to go unpack in your room. The trashy reality tv show wade had turned on slowly blended into background noise while Logan fell into a deep snoring sleep on the couch.

You unpacked your cute mini shorts and your brandy Melville fits while thinking back to why you decided to move here to the New York City mutant base was it for work as a mutant hero or something more you needed to know more about Logan Howlett you knew that there was more to his story that a drunk cranky middle aged mutant wolverine. What was his story and how did he get those long metal claws?

You walk out into the living room seeing that Logan was still fast asleep noticing a long metal chain dog tag hanging from his neck out onto the couch.

Walking over you know that it must be a clew to who he was in his past. Without thinking you approach his snoring body to pick up the tag to get a closer look staring at it you see a number and his nickname Wolverine etched into the metal. What could it mean?

All of a sudden Logan growls loudly waking up his claws stick out one of them going through one of your hands you wince in pain the skin on your hand already starts to grow back. The chain swinging back to Logan’s neck. You try to calm Logan down wondering what could have possibly made him wake up in this way.

You hold Logan and try to tell him he is safe and that no one is trying to harm him after about ten minutes of this he calms down and you sit together at the kitchenette “I’m sorry Bub is your hand ok?” It’s fine you say as Logan pours you a cup of the leftover whiskey that he was drinking earlier even though you don’t drink you reluctantly sip it down to make Logan feel better.

“What did you want to see my chain for?”Logan asks. I was wondering what it’s for since usually people where those who were in the military. “I wasn’t in the military but you could say I did my time to get the piece of metal.” You could tell Logan wasn’t ready to open up quite yet since you had just met each other but it still made you sad that he didn’t want to tell you his past. “I’m going back to sleep now I’ll see you in the morning” you say while walking away back to your room. Logan looks at you with a sense of guilt and hunger in his eyes he’s never met anyone so kind and gentle before he feels awful for hurting you. Later that night you awake to hear the fridge open laughing to yourself hearing Logan get more beers for himself.

I can’t wait to learn more about Logan tomorrow you smile to yourself excitedly knowing that he will soon be an open book to you it just takes time.

Let me know if you guys want me to continue this or not because I already have a storyline in my head for this I also want to say that this will eventually lead to smut but I want to make it a slow burn also I will include more of wade. Xoxo

[shadowgast-recs-weekly]

Highly Specific Aus!

This week, we have eight highly specific AUs - Alternate Universes that move away from the common tropes we love - often towards things that the authors have put a lot of experience and thought into. Check them out beneath the cut, and as always - feel free to comment or kudos if you like them!

when the lights go out by 06151126 (27307, Teen) Reccer's Content Notes: panic attacks, self destructive behavior

The formula one racecar AU

Reccer says: Perfect characterization and backstory in a completely different world - this is what AUs are all about

This sudden burst of sunlight, and me with my umbrella by Criticalpancake (63817, Teen) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

The Mighty Nein are orchid thieves. Essek is still a traitor

Reccer says: Orchid theives! It's fascinating and something I would have never thought of

I’ve been lost before (and I’m lost again, I guess) by toneofjoy (165080, Explicit) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Essek ran away from his problems and settled in the seaside city of Nicodranas. When Caleb Widogast joins their team at the Tidepeak rock-climbing gym, everything changes. Caleb has plans to take down his old coaches, and Essek has secrets. (It’s the Shadowgast climbing AU.)

Reccer says: Its still the first fic I think of when I think of amazing fics built on an unexpected premise. Absolutely phenomenal writing

More Things in Heaven and Earth by kaeda (76998, Explicit) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Caleb and Essek wake up and find themselves teleported into the alternate universe of the trashy smut novel, Tusk Love

Reccer says: Some of the best Crack Treated Seriously I've ever read 💜

Wishing Coin by Luckyowlsfoot (45913, Teen) Reccer's Content Notes: Graphic Depictions of Violence

Magical Highschool/Academy where Caleb and Essek are secretly dragons

Reccer says: Interesting concept and fun Worldbuilding

the fire kept closest (burns most of all) by mousecookie (21822, Mature) Reccer's Content Notes: Major Character Death

Essek is a Volcanologist. Caleb used to be as well, but now he's something a bit different.

Reccer says: I absolutely adore this fic

resonance broadening by toneofjoy (51665, Mature) Reccer's Content Notes: None

It’s SG as labmates who hate each other: they’re tired, sassy, and secretly enamored.

Reccer says: Beautiful and Lovely with lots of sass between Caleb and Essek. Great if you ever went to grad school

some branch of stars we see by SongOfWizardry (4680, Teen) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes, WIP

A Mighty Nein and/or Shadowgast Teaching AU.

Reccer says: Teaching AUs aren't exactly rare, but the amount of detail put into this AU that is clearly based on the author's experience elevates it to highly specific

Aeor is for Lovers is an 18+ Shadowgast Discord server. The above fanfic recommendations were pulled from our community for this weekly event. All fics, unless otherwise specified, will primarily feature Shadowgast. Have any questions about what this is? Check out the FAQ! Next week, we’ll be back with Kink Negotation!

[olderthannetfic]

I always see people who have never been antis, talking about/questioning how some antis even ARE antis when you look at their taste in media - ie the ever famous joke of "Hannigram is #problematique" "but it's a show where he eats people" or whatever.

I thought I'd weigh in as someone who could, hypothetically, be called an ex-anti (which, thankfully, nothing ever really came out of it - it was just very 2014 keyboardwarrior-esque behavior of me being a chronically online young adult who would share posts in a group chat making fun of certain shippers, or reblog posts about how 50shades is The Most Problematic Media Ever to exist -- basically I was an anti with anti-lines of thoughts, but i never, like, a ran a Shipping Discourse Blog or whatever)

For me, personally, it was a few different things. I can now see how it's incredibly hypocritical that teenaged me shipped Light/L, while still thinking that Dramione was Bad And Abusive. It ultimately boiled down to a) being pretentious, and b) just not understanding media or what proshippers REALLY believed, with a side of c) not realizing that nuance exists. like i was pretty late to join tumblr, I think I immigrated here during PEAK "yourfaveisproblematic" era which definitely did have an impact on my opinions and my tastes.

to elaborate, a.) being pretentious. i mean this one just kinda goes without saying. "I engage in media in a way more intellectual way than you do, don't you know that? You're a filthy and disgusting person who writes Snape/Hermione because you're an actually disgusting pedophile IRL who would probably date your own student that you're abusing if you could. Meanwhile, I'm a very smart, good, and pure person. When I read Uncle Vernon/Harry, I'm doing it in a G-d honoring whump way that clearly condemns abuse, incest, and rape. Unlike YOU who only writes harmful stuff as a way to get people off :/"

(as an aside, i think this line of thinking will ALWAYS be present in fandom and popculture in some way, sadly. ie the recent trend of people hating on booktok bc the books are 'trashy' and how these porn addicts should read real classic literature instead.)

as for b.), not understanding media - i cannot emphasize enough that i was GENUINELY stupid and disconnected enough to think that proshippers REALLY WERE pro-All Of The Degenerate Dead Doves That They Wrote.

why did i feel this way? why did i understand that Lolita clearly isnt pro-pedophilia, but for some reason i thought that someone shipping weecest was? well, first of all, i think that fanfiction is (generally) seen as Less Serious than classic literature, and fandom is a fun place, so i guess i somehow thought that every fanfic/fanartist who wrote Problematic Things, especially Problematic Things that they portrayed as Sexy, really DID enjoy the thought of that Actually Happening To Real People.

and i think THIS is the bulk of why antis ARE antis. i'm not calling them all stupid - i do think BEING an anti is stupid, but at the same time, there are people who are truly smart and good-intended people who just have some really off color opinions about, like, homestuck ships or whatever. Lawlight is okay because notebooks that kill people don't exist so it's IMPOSSIBLE for the Harmful Aspects of Light/L to be romanticized! but schoolyard prejudiced bullies DO exist and are a REAL problem so Drarry is BAD (*truly completely unaware of the fact that there's 'realistic' aspects of the Light/L dynamic and 'unrealistic' aspects of Drarry - such as, for example, Hogwarts arguably being even MORE of a fantasy setting than DN is.*) I know that media literacy is the hot buzzword of the year to throw around in 2024, but, like, i really did not have media literacy.

as for c.), not realizing nuance exists - ok "nuance" might not be the best word here, but i dont know how else to describe it. like, each time ive typed the word "problematic" out in this ask, i've done so in a very tongue in cheek/ironic/retroactive way, but, like, those posts about how Everything Is Problematic, Including Your Fave ARE true. and i didn't like the fact that my favorite media or favorite person might've Made A Mistake! i need to Talk About Its Issues Because I'm So Betrayed That My Dear Sweet Comfort Media Would Do This To Me. I Need To Prove I Clearly Condemn It.

like, i legit morally could not justify reblogging a twilight post without adding in the tags '#this is my guilty pleasure it sucks that the books were so racist though' or whatever. Most people were lucky enough to avoid that line of thinking, but there was an actual group of people who felt a genuine need to virtue signal all the time, partly bc, hey, they WERE passionate about talking abt #issues in media, but also bc of a subconscious fear of If You Reblog A Singular Piece Of Hetalia Fanart, You're Literally A Nazi And Will Get A Callout Post Written About You.

and during all of this i was at the tail end of my high school experience (yes i know im younger than most of your audience, ha). i was going through A Lot emotionally, going through a lot of life changes, and lived in a very . . . interesting household/place where i couldn't do ACTUAL good in the world that i was passionate about. so to make up for the fact that i was genuinely in no place to do legit activism, clearly i had to save the gay community by arguing about johnlock queerbaiting or whatever.

^ and honestly i do think that is the position of most antis. theyre isolated and cant seem to do Enough in the Real Scary World so they have to resort to talking about how bad of a person someone is for "shipping abuse", bc theyre not in a situation where they could, for example, ACTUALLY fight the good fight to end abuse or raise awareness for it.

There was way more to it and way more that I could say, if I wanted to, but this post is long enough as it is and probably doesn't make much sense.

I feel bad for antis, honestly, or at least the ones who are antis in the way I used to be.

--

Oh yes, passionate young fools who think they can at least fix the internet if not their lives make up most of the cannon fodder. Some of the ringleaders are just mini dictators and wannabe cult leaders, but most anti-leaning types are just traumatized or clueless, even a lot of the ones who do serious damage and don't just mock shit in private with their friends.