#i just think they should wear each other's clothes more
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fatherbrat · 23 hours ago
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every bone in your body knows you shouldn’t invite him in.
it’s a good thing you’re thinking with your clit!
kuroo is smirking when you open your front door, that smug all-knowing expression sitting pretty on his face. you barely even manage to get him inside before you’re all over each other. 
“missed me?” he breathes between kisses, but you don’t respond, too preoccupied with getting him to your bedroom without losing skin-to-skin contact or bumping into any furniture.
your shirt’s already been discarded somewhere between the living room and the laundry room. his hands are making quick work of unzipping your shorts, and somewhere in the back of your mind you wonder why you bothered wearing clothes anyways. you both know there’s only one reason you’d invite him over after dark.
when you sit on the edge of your bed you’re annoyed to find him wearing a belt. you pause briefly, silently questioning why he chose to forgo the typical sweats. reading your mind, kuroo explains. “i came straight here from work.” it isn’t until then you notice the black button-up he’s also wearing—the mandated uniform you both share.
it’s the perfect reality check. isn’t this exactly why you had to leave your last serving job? it’s never a good idea to fuck your coworkers. you pull back, resting your hands in your lap.
“this isn’t a good idea. you should go home. i’m sorry i texted.” you glance up at him, only to be surprised at the pitying look he’s giving you.
he kneels in front of you, his unbuckled belt clinking at the movement. all of his previous smugness has been washed away, replaced with a specific kind of anguish. you don’t bother thinking about whether it’s genuine or not. does it matter? his hands find your knees, rubbing gentle circles with each thumb.
“but you texted me for a reason right?” his voice is soft. imploring. desperate.
he’s looking up at you like a starving man, begging for a morsel. he pushes your knees apart gently, stopping halfway and catching your eyes again, a silent plea.
you only hesitate for a moment before nodding. you already fucked this particular coworker. would be a shame to stop now!
he wastes no time, fingers hooking the waistband of your shorts and your underwear almost immediately.
“lift your hips for me, baby.” you obey, and are rewarded with a lingering kiss to your inner thigh.
“i promise i’ll do all the work from here.” another kiss. “just relax, okay?” kiss. “i’m gonna take my time.”
you gasp when his mouth finds your clit, his tongue moving in slow, deliberate circles. you can feel him smiling against your skin at your reaction, but he doesn’t say anything, just continues his painfully slow ministrations. 
you have half a mind to dig your fingers into his hair and yank his face closer. but you don’t, not in the mood for whatever snarky comment he might throw your way in response.
kuroo can sense your impatience before you say anything anyway. your fingertips pressing into his scalp speak volumes. he slips two of his fingers inside you, curling them up against your g-spot. 
the sensation has your back arching up off the bed. kuroo doesn’t miss a beat, laying his free hand on your stomach and lowering you back down onto the bed. 
his mouth never leaves your cunt, licking and sucking and slurping until that familiar tautness takes over your muscles.
“fuck,” you hiss. “tetsu, i think i’m gonna—“
he already knows. his fingers brush your g-spot one more time before he pulls them out of you and replaces them with his tongue, his nose nudging your clit. 
you scream his name as you come, pulling him deeper into your cunt as a stream of fluid erupts from you. you’re all tingly by the time you let him come up for air. 
kuroo’s beaming at you when he pulls away, the bottom half his face wet and glistening. 
“i love when you do that,” he says, licking his lips as he tugs his pants down. 
you roll your eyes as you scoot up the bed, but the action seems tamer than usual post-orgasm. kuroo only smiles wider, shifting his attention to unbuttoning his shirt before he climbs onto the bed with you. 
he’s already hard, tapping his tip on your sticky clit. “let’s make a bet.”
you tilt your head to the side and raise an eyebrow. “what kind of bet?”
“if i can make you squirt again tonight, you have to work my shift tomorrow night.”
it takes everything in you not to laugh. “and if you can’t?”
kuroo shrugs. “i’ll work your next shift. and i’ll give you all the tips i make that night. it’ll be like pto.”
he stops tapping, just letting his cock rest against you. the two of you share a look when you twitch. you both know you’re going to lose. 
“deal.”
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lamentationsofalonelypotato · 24 hours ago
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@zepskies
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I'm not kidding this might be my favorite gif ever lol. BUT I am so excited to read the last chapter of this series!! I mean, I'm sad that it's coming to a close, but I'm hoping that in the future there might be a fic with a little Elijah (or a little Jude) running around. 😏
I love the little details about him and Benny pranking each other, but it really just made me sad because Dean left them 😭 But at the same time they are opening up with one another and sharing their life stories and I couldn't be happier.
“I will protect you,” she says. Dean frowns. He doesn’t like the sound of that. On one hand, it warms him that she seems to really mean it. On the other hand, he doesn’t want to know what it’ll take for her to protect him.
Again I stan a strong woman and Mila is just so stinking badass that I love her so much. Also yes girl, PROTECT 👏🏻 YOUR👏🏻 MAN👏🏻
But if he only has two choices, then he at least wants to make sure Mila gets home safely…even if that means he won’t be. He’s come this far. If his career is worth the price of what he feels is right, then his life is worth it too.
Love that you're referencing the honorable choice title here, and showing that Dean is a man of honor and that he did make a choice that maybe messed up his life, but he cared more about doing the right thing. And I think you did a great job of titling the series and the chapters in general. Each one corresponds beautifully to the themes in the chapters so you should be proud!
It’s good that Mila rides that giant mustang; if she were on a mare, like Dean, she’d already be sunk up to her shoulders. Baby’s a big girl, to be sure, but Mila is nearly a foot shorter than him, with a smaller frame. He watches her carefully as she makes her way ahead of him.
I know that something dramatic is about to happen and that I shouldn't be thinking about this right now, but I just love height difference so much😭. When a guy is bigger than his girl oh wow it sends me to the moon. I think it's so cute and goodness the cuddles must be so fun.
“Dean!” Mila yells, for the first time using his name. The last thing he registers is the fear in her eyes—afraid for him.
Again, devastating moment, but... SHE SAID HIS NAME FOR THE FIRST TIME! And the running her fingers through his hair?!?!?!?!
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Dean wants to sit up and take an inventory of his injuries, but he can’t make his body move just yet. He’s too tired and bruised. He also likes being in her arms. He likes her fingers in his hair, now moving to his cheek. He sighs through his nose in contentment as her thumb drifts over his overgrown stubble. 
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“I guess you are pretty, for a White Man,” she says teasingly. Her fingers trace his brow, his jawline, even the tip of his chin. She seems to be avoiding his plush mouth, even though her gaze keeps dropping there. Dean pretends to frown. “Sweetheart, that’s not the way you talk about a man,” he says. Her brows raise. “No?” “Handsome. Strong. Toothsome, if you will,” he says, enjoying the way she begins to blush. “That’s what you wanna call a man."
I'm cackling. I love Mila so much. The sass, the teasing. Oh goodness they're so cute and I am so scared that there's going to be a last minute perilous situation and somebody is gonna die.
“It’ll be faster to dry our clothes if we’re not wearing ‘em,” Dean rumbles. His voice is deep with desire. He presses kisses along the side of her jaw, behind her ear, down her neck and shoulder. He earns her pleased hum, her heavier breaths, and her fingers once again in his hair.
Excuse me sir? SIR?! You know... he's right Mila. You should listen to your future husband.
Also him respecting her when she said that she doesn't have sex before marriage is just so HONORABLE AND WORTHY and why can't there be men that respectful all the time? Dean Winchester is really just ruining other men for me everywhere. 😭
She will bring him home to her tribe, and she will explain. If they still don’t welcome him, then she prays for the strength to keep to her honor. Because now, she begins to realize… Her heart has already chosen.
Girl it's chosen correctly. No remorse. No regret. Please oh my word let them both live at the end of this fic. 🙏🏻
He grunts in acknowledgement, but he turns on his heels and storms out of the tipi. Her mother comes forward next. She examines Dean from all angles. She takes his face in her hand, somewhat squishing his cheeks, so she can look deeply into his startled eyes.
So... the face squishing is a family trait I see. But man, Dean standing there while a random lady just squishing his face while his eyes are wide in horror is so funny to me.
“Sweetheart,” Dean says, cupping her cheek. Even with the hammering of his heart, he grins. “I’m pretty sure that’s where this was going anyway.”
AWW YEAH IT WAS GOING THAT WAY! lol
“Do you regret?” she whispers, reaching up to touch his chin with two slender fingers. “Do you regret helping me?” Dean considers her question. He knows he’ll carry his family in his heart until the day he dies. His brother, his mother, the memory of his father. Benny and Cas, even Jack, and so many others. It’s already a heavy burden, but he had always been prepared to lose his life on the battlefield, in service of his country. At least this way, he gains a new life.  “No. Never did,” Dean replies. “Not even once.”
This bit is so good. It's so true and honest and a little heart breaking, but it's such a wonderful thing for them to talk about, because Mila knows that he's thrown away his life to save hers. And it's so wonderful that he's able to give her that confirmation and reassurance that he doesn't regret the choice he made. Because it was the right choice, the -AHEM- Honorable Choice lol 😂
“If I’m your husband now, that means I get all of you,” he says with a grin. She gazes up at him, both in blushing amusement and affection. “All of me,” Mila repeats. She takes his face in her hands and brings him closer, until her lips are a whisper from his. “Then I want all of you.” 
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Oh this chapter was so good my sweet friend! I'm a little sad to see that it's ending, but it was so wonderfully written and neither of them died. I was really scared about that 😅. AND it ended with a wedding (sort of?). Now little Elijah can run around the camp helping his mother and learn how to break in horses with his father. ❤️
The Honorable Choice - Part 3
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Pairing: Dean Winchester x OFC 
Summary: June 1872. Captain Dean Winchester of the U.S. Cavalry is tasked with one job: break a wild mustang. He just didn’t expect the woman who infiltrates his camp, intent on freeing her tribe’s horse.
AN: The last chapter! Hold on, it's about to get bumpy...
Disclaimer: I got inspired after a recent rewatch of Spirit: The Stallion of the Cimarron (literally a perfect movie), as well as having Yellowstone in the back of my brain. I’ve done extensive research for this one, both on the American Indian Lakota tribe, and on American history during this time in the late 1800s (AKA: the Old West, during the American Indian Wars and the Sioux Wars). Of course, one of my main goals is to avoid inaccuracies, both historical and cultural.
**Pronunciation guide at the end!
Jacklesverse Bingo24 Prompt: @jacklesversebingo Western AU
Song Inspo: The Spirit Soundtrack
Word Count: 5.7K
Tags/Warnings: 18+ only. Protective Dean, survival situations, smut (mutual masturbation, fingering, and more), angst, and fluff.
🐎 Series Masterlist || Bingo Masterlist
🎙️ Listen to the podfic version here!
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Part 3: Worthy
They travel together for two more days. Dean isn’t really a talkative man, but inevitably, he finds himself speaking to fill the comfortable stretches of quiet plodding across the grasslands.
He tells her about growing up on his family’s farm, where his father was firm but fair, and a larger-than-life presence when Sam and Dean were kids. His mother though, she was the only one who could ever go toe to toe with John Winchester and win.
“She tamed him,” Mila remarks with a smile. Dean’s lips quirk in response.
“I wouldn’t go that far,” he chuckles, “but he knew he couldn’t pull a whole lot of shit with Mom. She’s a real pistol when she’s gotta be.”
Talking about them makes his heart heavy and sobers his mood, so he deflects with other stories, other chapters of his life. 
He talks about going through basic training alongside Benny Lafitte. As privates, Dean pranked his friend by filling his lumpy old pillow with raw eggs and chicken feathers. In retaliation, Benny swapped Dean’s morning coffee with actual dirt and hot water. Their boyish games escalated until they were nearly kicked out of the military.
Dean managed to smooth things over though. He’s always had a way of charming people, even the gruff Sergeant Major, Bobby Singer.
Mila admits that she and her cousin Šóta used to sneak out of the village when they were younger. He taught her how to climb trees, how to fight and protect herself, and how to ride a horse astride, like a man. He was the only one who ever encouraged her to have the “free mind” her mother dreamed about.
The more she confides in him, her eyes sparking with life and her hands gesticulating along with her words, the more Dean listens.  
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On the third day, it’s nearing mid-afternoon when Dean slows Baby to a stop. After miles and miles of forest and grassland covered, they’ve finally approached a large, wide river. Mila stops beside him.
“My tribe lives beyond the river,” she says, “but the current is strong now.”
Dean looks over at her. A question he hasn’t wanted to ask crops back up. He feels that now is the time to voice it.
“Yeah, about that…I’m thinking your tribe doesn’t take very well to outsiders,” he says. “White men in particular.”
Mila presses her lips together. He can tell she’s been thinking the same thing, but she turns to him with a determined set to her features.
“I will protect you,” she says.
Dean frowns. He doesn’t like the sound of that. On one hand, it warms him that she seems to really mean it. On the other hand, he doesn’t want to know what it’ll take for her to protect him.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asks.
She turns her face away and doesn’t seem to want to answer at first.
“Mila…”
“The Chief is my uncle,” she says at last. “He will listen to me.”
Dean blinks. Well, that changes things…maybe.
He’s still not convinced, but at this point, he really doesn’t have many options. It’s either take his chances with her tribe, or become a vagabond. He’s not sure how long he could survive in wilds of the West alone, especially while trying to dodge military patrols.
In the past three days, it’s taken Dean all that time to come to terms with a simple fact. He’ll likely never see his brother again, or his mother. It’s a pain that cuts into him deeply, down to his bones. It stings behind his eyes.
But if he only has two choices, then he at least wants to make sure Mila gets home safely…even if that means he won’t be.
He’s come this far. If his career is worth the price of what he feels is right, then his life is worth it too.
With that decision made, Dean expels a long, somewhat faltering breath. He locks away the rest of his uncertainty, his apprehension, and even his grief. He hides deep inside, where she won’t see it. 
“All right, the current doesn’t look too bad over here,” he says, pointing to farther north along the river. “The horses can make it.”
Mila nods in agreement. She still looks uneasy, though she tries to hide it too. She ventures ahead into the river. Dean follows close behind.
The water is shallow at first, but it all too quickly gets deeper. The horses plod over the river stones and vegetation under the surface, and the humans are led deeper, until they’re submerged into the water up to their waists.
It’s good that Mila rides that giant mustang; if she were on a mare, like Dean, she’d already be sunk up to her shoulders. Baby’s a big girl, to be sure, but Mila is nearly a foot shorter than him, with a smaller frame. He watches her carefully as she makes her way ahead of him.
That’s why he’s able to act fast when Mato slips, dunking Mila under the water. She gasps and tries to cling onto him, but the current is fierce. It pushes Mato down the river no matter how much he scrambles and kicks at the water, braying wildly in distress.
Shit! Dean tugs sharply at Baby’s reigns and strives to catch up to them. He grabs Mato’s reigns and pulls and pulls, until he and Baby are able to drag him to the other side of the river where he can get a foothold with his hooves.
Mila is starting to fall off his back. She struggles to cling on while the river pushes at her, with her wet hair falling in her eyes. Dean leans back as far as he can to try and pull her up.
“It’s okay, I’ve gotcha,” he calls out, even though his heart hammers with alarm.
She reaches out for his hand in turn. Just as his fingers begin to close over hers, a wave from the current crashes into her. A short scream tears from her throat after she loses her grip on Mato’s neck. Without her weight, he’s able to pull himself back up onto the bank along with Baby.
Damn it! Gut-wrenching alarm spears Dean into action. He leaps down from Baby and removes his gloves, his hat, and his uniform jacket, so he can dive into the water. Thank God he’s a strong swimmer.
Mila seems to be too. She carves through the water against the current the best she can and tries to keep her head above the waves, but Dean can see it’s a losing battle. He manages to grab hold of her arm, and then wraps an arm around her waist to keep her close. Both of them work together to try and cling to any passing rock or low-hanging vine as the current sweeps them out toward an ultimate end.
A waterfall.
Of course. Goddamn it. Dean doesn’t know how steep it is on the other side, and he doesn’t want to know. All he’s trying to do is keep himself and Mila above the water.
She hooks her hand around a sharp rock. It bites into her hand, making her cry out, but she clings to it for all she’s worth. She holds onto Dean just as tightly, even though the current wants to take him. She tries to pull him closer, close enough for him to get a hold on the rock as well.
This time, it’s Dean who loses his footing. The rocks slip beneath the soles of his feet when he attempts to gain some leverage.
A shout of surprise escapes from him when he fails, and it gets swallowed up by water rushing down his throat.
“Dean!” Mila yells, for the first time using his name. The last thing he registers is the fear in her eyes—afraid for him.
The river takes him over the edge of the abyss, and he falls.
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He never expected that he would get to open his eyes again, let alone to the sight that greets him. Mila’s familiar face, framed by the dark, drying waves of her hair, is bright with firelight. It dances in orange-gold across her features. Her eyes are warm like rich molasses when she looks down and finds him awake.
She smiles in relief.
He realizes that he’s lying on soft grass with his head pillowed in her lap. She’s taken off his boots and half of his white undershirt; she tore one of his sleeves to wrap around a mercifully shallow gash in his shoulder.
The horses are drinking from the river nearby, with a pile of apples split between them. There’s a fish roasted over the fire, but all Dean cares about is the way her fingers are running through his hair. She sings a soft song under her breath while she passes her other hand over his injured arm without touching it.
He doesn’t understand the words, but he thinks she might be trying to heal him. He’s heard plenty of stories about the Sioux people, most he’s taken with a grain of salt. He does remember Cas saying that their healers are different from doctors.  
Dean’s never given their hoodoo much thought, but right about now, he hopes it works.
“Mornin’,” he croaks.
Mila’s relieved face becomes touched with amusement.
“It’s night,” she says. “You slept for a long time.”
Dean wants to sit up and take an inventory of his injuries, but he can’t make his body move just yet. He’s too tired and bruised. He also likes being in her arms. He likes her fingers in his hair, now moving to his cheek. He sighs through his nose in contentment as her thumb drifts over his overgrown stubble. 
“Thank you,” she says. Emotion is thick in her voice.
Dean meets her eyes again, and he smiles. He raises the back of his hand to touch her smooth cheek, gently. He lets his fingers glide across her tan skin, down the column of her neck. Her breath hitches.
She takes his calloused hand in her slender one. Her long hair falls like a curtain over her shoulder, almost like it’s shielding them from whatever is left to come for them beyond the forest. Dean wraps an ebony strand around his finger, just to feel it fall loosely again.
“You’re beautiful, you know that?” he says.
Mila graces him with another smile from her lips. He wants to know what they taste like.
“I guess you are pretty, for a White Man,” she says teasingly.
Her fingers trace his brow, his jawline, even the tip of his chin. She seems to be avoiding his plush mouth, even though her gaze keeps dropping there. Dean pretends to frown.
“Sweetheart, that’s not the way you talk about a man,” he says.
Her brows raise. “No?”
“Handsome. Strong. Toothsome, if you will,” he says, enjoying the way she begins to blush. “That’s what you wanna call a man.”
“Toothsome. I don’t know this word,” she admits. “Am I supposed to eat you?”
Dean resists the urge to say the first incorrigible thing that pops into his head. Instead, his body shakes with laughter.
It’s difficult at first, all his muscles pulling at him in protest, but he raises himself into a sitting position. He cups Mila’s cheek, dragging his thumb across her lower lip. Her lashes are dark and long. They move when she looks up at him. He knows the look in her eyes, wanting, desiring, but also unsure of what she should allow him.
Dean leans in slowly, giving her time to decide.
She tilts her face up to his. He noses at her cheek, his eyes falling closed along with hers.
He finds her lips with his own on instinct and feeling alone. Soft and tender movements, testing, asking.
She answers him. Her fingers tangle in the front of his tattered shirt as her lips begin to move against his. Dean wraps an arm around her waist and gathers her against his chest. His other hand glides down her arm, down her side and along every soft curve. Her clothes are still damp, and so are his.
“It’ll be faster to dry our clothes if we’re not wearing ‘em,” Dean rumbles. His voice is deep with desire. He presses kisses along the side of her jaw, behind her ear, down her neck and shoulder. He earns her pleased hum, her heavier breaths, and her fingers once again in his hair.
“I can’t,” she gasps. She says something in her native tongue, too fast for Dean to even register. He slows down so he can meet her eyes.
“What was that?” he asks. Her face falls, and she starts to trip over her words.
“I am not…how you say, married. I have to be…”
Dean smiles ruefully, sliding a strand of hair behind her ear.
“Chaste?” he offers. She nods, her brows furrowed. Her grip on his shirt tightens.
“Yes,” she says. “In the eyes of my people, it is…”
“I get it,” Dean says. When she still seems conflicted, he presses a kiss to her forehead. 
“Really, I understand,” he says.
His problem is that he stares into her eyes too long, and at her kiss-swollen lips. He dives back in for another taste.
This time, he’s a little less gentlemanly than he promised. His tongue sweeps along her lower lip, begging entrance. She makes a sound of surprise, but she opens up to him. Her gentle hands slide up his chest to hold his face, and her thumbs stroke his cheeks. He holds one of her wrists to keep her there as his tongue dances with hers. She tastes like the river, and like salty tears.
Had she cried for him? How long did she sit with his body, waiting to see if he would wake up?
Despite those worrying thoughts, Dean knows this feels right. More right than he’s ever felt.
It’s harder than he might’ve imagined, but he still pulls away, before he won’t be able to stop himself. Mila pants for breath. She seems to feel she should let him go, but also doesn’t show any sign of wanting to. Smiling, Dean caresses her cheek one more time before he turns to the fish she roasted.
“This looks good,” he says, clearing his throat. “What kinda fish is this?”
With a sigh, she attempts to steady herself and moves to join him by the fire.
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That night, Mila dreams.
She dreams of wings, white and beautiful. She hears the cry of an eagle before she sees his great wingspan take off in flight. He soon finds his mate, and they dance together in the sky. 
When she wakes, the fire has gone out and it’s still dark in the night. It takes her a moment to realize that she’s safe. Finally safe.
And she’s lying securely in Dean’s arms.
She’s no longer conflicted when she stares up at his face.
She will bring him home to her tribe, and she will explain. If they still don’t welcome him, then she prays for the strength to keep to her honor. Because now, she begins to realize…
Her heart has already chosen.
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“Kimmímila, what have you done?” her uncle asks in the language of their people.
He is Tahatan, Chief of their tribe.
Mila’s father, Chatan, and her cousin Šóta have tied Dean Winchester to a post in the center of the Chief’s large tipi. Dean kneels with his head bowed in respect, even though he keeps sneaking looks at Mila to try and gauge what’s happening. He doesn’t understand a word of any of it.
“You’ve brought this outsider into our village, this White Man!” Tahatan shouts, his voice deep and resounding.
Mila steps forward, despite her mother’s embarrassment and her father trying to grab her shoulder. For the second time in her life, she defies her father for what she believes is right. The first was to rescue a member of their tribe—because even a horse’s spirit should not be broken by greed.
“Uncle, I’ve told you the story, though you don’t want to believe it,” she says. “Dean Winchester saved me when he could have killed me, or worse. He defied his own people. He is dead to his own people, for me, and because of me. You may think they lack all honor, but this man is different.”
She looks over at Dean, and he meets her gaze. He wears an anxious frown as he looks between her and the chief, but she has a feeling that his fear is for her, not for himself.
She kneels beside him, then looks up at her uncle with all the stubbornness she’s ever possessed in her life. She feels it’s led her to exactly this moment.
“And we are one,” she says. Nerves trill up her spine as she says it. She predicts the way shock falls over the room. The way her father curses out loud, angry. The way her mother covers her mouth in dismay. The way the Chief takes a step back, tilting his head at his niece.
“You would take it that far?” he asks.
Her face doesn’t change. “It’s already done.”
Tahatan is beside himself, both angry and perplexed. He goes back to his chair of wicker and wood that lies centered in the room. He drops heavily into it. After a long while, in which he thinks in silence…he releases a heavy sigh. He gestures for his brother and his son to untie Dean. The men do so, but they don’t let him go free. They force him to stand and bring him forward to kneel again before the Chief.
“Dean Winchester,” Tahatan says.
“Yes, sir,” Dean replies.
“You prove yourself to be a man with honor,” he says in English. “Kimmímila has chosen you. She claims you have chosen her in return. Do you deny this?”
Dean glances over at her. She bites the inside of her lip, a bit worried about how he’ll react. She’s not sure he completely understands what Tahatan is telling him, but he nods, regardless.
“No, sir. I don’t deny it,” Dean says.
“Then, you will be allowed to stay, and live among us,” Tahatan declares. "We will see for ourselves what you are. We will see if you are worthy."
Dean gives a nod, crossed with a bow of some kind. He obviously isn’t sure of what he’s supposed to do, but he does say thank you. Mila wraps her hands around his uninjured arm and helps him to his feet. She smiles at him to let him know that the worst is over. He blows out a breath in relief.
“Is that it?” he whispers. He expected more of a thrashing, if he’s honest.
“Almost,” she replies. The two of them stop short before her father, Chatan.
Dean straightens up and holds out his hand. “Sir.”
Chatan glances down at the white hand extended toward him. His gaze raises back up to Dean. 
He grunts in acknowledgement, but he turns on his heels and storms out of the tipi. Her mother comes forward next. She examines Dean from all angles. She takes his face in her hand, somewhat squishing his cheeks, so she can look deeply into his startled eyes.
She seems satisfied by what she finds, and she lets him go. Afterward, she takes Mila’s hand and heaves a deep sigh.
She kisses her daughter’s hand and says nothing else, leaving them to find her husband and calm him down.
Dean turns to Mila with a look that says, please tell me that’s it.
She smiles more genuinely.
“Come,” she says.
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She leads him by the hand out of the Chief’s tipi and through the village. Dean takes in the rows of other tall, cone-like structures covered in buffalo skin, as well as all the faces that turn to stare at him in a mix of curiosity, wariness, and even fear. Some of them whisper to each other, taking their children by the hand and keeping them close.
Dean’s still on guard himself, even when Mila takes him to a smaller tipi. It’s been closed up for a while now, by the look of it. Weeds have grown right outside the entrance. 
“This one’s yours?” Dean asks.
She pauses, giving him another small smile. “Ours.”
Dean raises a brow. Ours. Really?
She opens the flap in the front and beckons him inside. There’s still enough daylight to shine through the outer lining. Inside, his gaze flits over the old pile of stones in the center for heating, clothes folded in the corner, some cooking pots and utensils, paintings on wood and clay, and a couple of beaded decorations. Buffalo skin bedding is laid out on the other side with a couple of soft looking furs. 
Son of a gun. Dean doesn’t even blink as he processes it all. He’s in a damn tipi. This is really about to become his life.
Shaking his head a little, he forces himself to focus on Mila. She’s his anchor, and she seems to sense that he’s reeling. She guides him to sit beside her on the bedding, holding his hands in hers. After a moment, he reaches up to tuck a curling strand of hair behind her ear.
“You didn’t get in too much trouble because of me, did you?” he asks.
She shakes her head. “No. My father and uncle are very similar. Strong to anger, but it is quick to run out. At least with me.”
Dean thinks he understands. Short fuse, quick fizzle.
“There is just…one thing,” Mila says. Her eyes fall away from his, like she’s embarrassed. He squeezes her hands.
“What?” he asks, his brows furrowing. It gets her to look at him again, but she seems worried to tell him.
“To convince my uncle to let you stay, I told them that we…” she trails, trying to find the right words in English. “That we are married.”
Dean’s brows raise high. His heart trips up faster. Okay, “ours” makes a lot more sense now.
“I am sorry,” she says quietly. “I didn’t want you hurt—”
“Sweetheart,” Dean says, cupping her cheek. Even with the hammering of his heart, he grins. “I’m pretty sure that’s where this was going anyway.”
In fact, this is a best-case scenario, as far as he’s concerned. He leans in to kiss her, and it doesn’t take long at all for her to sigh in relief, melting against him.
“We’re married, huh?” he asks. “No ceremony? No white dress?”
“We are bonded,” she replies, nodding as she meets every one of his kisses. “Or, we will be.”
She tugs him closer and revels in the feeling of his hands beginning to roam her body, sliding down her waist, her hips and thighs.
“Guess that means we have to seal the deal,” he grins. His lips drift away from hers to burn a familiar path across her cheek. He takes to nibbling her ear, making her flinch and laugh as it tickles.
“Seal-the-deal. What does that mean?” she asks.
Dean chuckles lowly in her ear. “Oh, I think you know.”
He guides her onto her back, over the comfortable mess of furs. He wants to take his time exploring every inch of soft, tan skin, but he first sweeps her hair away from her eyes, the back of his hand brushing against her cheek. She smiles up at him softly.
“Do you regret?” she whispers, reaching up to touch his chin with two slender fingers. “Do you regret helping me?”
Dean considers her question. He knows he’ll carry his family in his heart until the day he dies. His brother, his mother, the memory of his father. Benny and Cas, even Jack, and so many others.
It’s already a heavy burden, but he had always been prepared to lose his life on the battlefield, in service of his country. At least this way, he gains a new life. 
“No. Never did,” Dean replies. “Not even once.”
He bows his head toward hers, and he proves it to her. His lips capture hers, fueled by passion and wanting. Mila’s hands slide over his shoulders and down his back. Maybe without her realizing it, she implores him to let go of the weight heaped on his shoulders.
When he begins to bunch up the hem of her dress, she sits up to help guide his hands. Her quickening breaths mesh with his as the first layer of clothing drops beside the bedding. His tattered shirt joins her dress, along with pants and shoes and boots, until all that’s left is skin against warm, bare skin. He lays on his side right beside her and explores wherever she lets him begin.  
“Beautiful,” Dean murmurs, as his lips follow the column of her neck, down between her breasts. Her breaths rise to meet him, especially when he begins to toy with a dark, pebbled nipple. Her fingers slip through his hair, and his name falls from her lips. He palms one breast while kissing and gently teasing the other, exploring sensitive flesh and grazing her sensitive fleshwith his teeth.
“No man’s ever touched you?” he asks, despite knowing the answer.
She shakes her head, her fingers gripping his hair tighter as his lips and tongue move against her skin.
“No,” Mila gasps a reply. Her hand slides down the back of his neck, and the more he teases her, her nails soon create faint red lines down his back, her thighs squeezing together. She feels a throbbing ache at the very center of her. Despite her inexperience with men, she knows what it means, and she knows what she wants.
Dean’s mouth drags away from her breast. He pulls back so he can meet her eyes. A smile curves his lips, and he takes one of her hands from his shoulders. 
“Have you ever touched yourself?” he asks. He guides her hand down her body, brushing over a wet, sensitive nipple, down her stomach, and between her legs. This time, Mila nods in answer. She stares up at Dean with eyes like molten honey. He leans in to kiss her neck.
“Show me,” he says.
She shudders at the depths in his voice. It increases the flood of wetness she already feels, even before she slips two fingers between the folds of her sex. She gathers some of that slick and circles it over the source of her pleasure, the small nub above her entrance.
Dean takes his hardened length in his hand. While she writhes by her own hand, he drinks her in with his eyes. A soft groan falls from his lips as he pumps himself a few times, sliding a thumb across the weeping head of his cock.
He can’t be a spectator for long though. He nips tantalizingly at her neck, creating a zing of added sensation across her skin. She whimpers, though she tries to stifle it, her knee bending further.
“It’s okay, sweetheart,” Dean says. “Let me hear you.”
He releases himself and replaces her hand with his own. He slips two long fingers inside her drenched entrance, earning a gasping moan from her. She latches onto his shoulders and buries her face into his neck. She whispers fervent things he doesn’t understand, but it only spurs him on.
His thumb circles insistently over her clit as his fingers pulse inside her. Her hips buck a needy rhythm against his hand, until her thighs begin to shake, and her inner walls squeeze even tighter around his fingers.
“Shit, that’s it, baby,” he pants gruffly against her cheek. “Let go for me.”
Warmth snaps and floods from her throbbing core, and she cries out near his ear, her nails biting into his skin. Her release coats his fingers.
Mila drops her head back against the furs underneath her. Her chest rises and falls quickly while she tries to catch her breath, her eyes tightly shut. Dean surprises her with a soft kiss.
“Mila,” he prods. He wants to see her eyes again, so pretty and wanton when she comes. He veers away from her lips to kiss her cheek, and then the other side of her neck. “Let me see you, sweetheart.”
She huffs a small laugh. Opening her eyes, she gestures to her bare body. “This is not enough?”
Dean’s lips tug at a smile. He shakes his head. “As a matter of fact, no.”
He shifts over her, finding his place between the cradle of her thighs. His elbows come to rest on either side of her head. She feels trapped by his body, even as she welcomes his weight and the feeling of his arousal, long and heavy and hard, trapped between their bodies. This man fills every corner of her world in this moment.
“If I’m your husband now, that means I get all of you,” he says with a grin. She gazes up at him, both in blushing amusement and affection.
“All of me,” Mila repeats. She takes his face in her hands and brings him closer, until her lips are a whisper from his. “Then I want all of you.” 
Dean chuckles. “You sure about that?”
She smiles in satisfaction, and her lips claim him this time. One kiss turns into many, each one mounting in passion and desire. Dean groans into her when she begins to touch him. Her hands are soft, but direct in their seeking; they caress his shoulders, run down his chest and stomach, and then, more tentatively explore the now painfully hard length of him pressing against her.
He makes a grateful sound of pleasure when her hand wraps around his cock, squeezing gently. His fingers bury themselves in her hair.
“I want all of you,” she says, this time a plea and a demand all at once as she strokes him.
Dean nods in agreement. He’s come this far. He can do that for her too.
He spreads her thighs a bit wider and encourages her to adjust the angle of her hips for him. His hand glides down her plush thigh and gets a healthy grip. Then he slides his hand under hers and guides his cock through her folds, first just holding himself at her warm, wet entrance.
He manages to wait for a second, in order to meet her gaze. She’s already holding onto his arms tightly, like he’s become her anchor. Her thighs wrap around his hips and beckon him closer.
Slowly, he pushes inside. He takes care in how he works her open. She winces at the sting of his girth stretching her, but his fingers once again massage her clit, stroking her arousal back into a keening flame. He swallows her gasps and moans as he bottoms out inside her, fully sheathed. Tears prick at her eyes, but not from pain.
Mila’s dream flashes like a waking vision behind her eyes. Wings take flight, along with the gleam of a golden beak and a sharp eye.
She blinks, and the image disappears. She’s left with the man who has become hers, making love to her with every stroke of him deep inside her. She presses grateful kisses across his neck and shoulder, wherever she can reach while she clings to his strong arms.
The thick head of him brushes a sensitive place over and over, one that tightens the coil in her lower belly and makes her core tremble again with warmth, until her body convulses against him, pulsing in pleasure, gripping him tight from the inside. Mila’s fingers clench in his hair just as tightly as her release hits her in a powerful wave; even her voice becomes lost to it.
Gritting his teeth, Dean grips the soft flesh of her hip and chases his own end. The way her inner walls choke his cock, he has no choice but to come hot inside her, his spend mixing with her own release. A strangled shout tears from his throat.
He has to brace himself before he crushes her. With his forearms resting on either side of her head, he lowers his forehead against hers. Her legs slip from where they’ve been tightly molded to his hips, her feet meeting the floor. Eventually he slips out of her. He watches his seed drip out and create a mess on the dark furs. The sight of it satisfies something primal deep inside him.
Later he’ll ask her about washing up (and about supper), but for now, he just turns onto his back beside her. She inches toward him, and he raises an arm so she can splay out against his side. They both lay there for a moment in the quiet, just catching their breath together. It marks the end of a long journey, and yet, the start of one too.
Mila turns to raise onto her elbow. She reaches over to wipe the sweat from his brow in a tender touch. Dean smiles up at her. He takes her hand and presses a kiss into her palm.
“I could get used to this,” he says.
Her eyes widen in surprise, but then she laughs softly. “Yes.”
Her hand moves down to his chest, over his heart. She sobers as she considers her people, and how much trust has yet to be bridged—not only her own father and uncle, but the entire tribe. When she led him through the village, they called him wašíču.
Fat-taker. Greedy White. Not one of us.
“It will be hard for you here,” Mila says. She worries it will be too hard for Dean.  
He just squeezes her hand, earning her attention through tumultuous thoughts.
“I’m not afraid of a little hard work,” Dean replies. His usual confident charm is infused in his smile, but she has a feeling he’s just trying to reassure her.
Sensing she’s not convinced, Dean reaches up to hold her cheek, guiding her to look at him and not the floor.
“Listen. I made my choice, and I’m sticking it out, come hell or high water,” he says.
Mila’s brows knit together. “Hell-or-high… What does that mean?”
Dean sits up on his elbow along with her. He takes her chin between his fingers and meets her gaze.
“It means if you want me, you’ve got me. The rest, we’ll figure out as we go along,” he says.
A smile slowly lightens Mila’s face. She tilts her chin up to meet him with a kiss.
“I will be with you,” she says. It’s a promise.
Dean smiles back.
“Good,” he says. “Because that’s just about all I need.”
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AN: There we have it, friends. 💜 I really, truly hope you enjoyed this mini series! To be honest, I have more ideas for this little world (like how Dean might try to assimilate into this culture), but I'll leave it to you guys to let me know if that's something you'd be interested in reading.
Until then, I would love to know what you thought of this chapter! 
Pronunciation Guide:
Šóta ("sho-tah") Chatan ("chat-tan") Tahatan ("ta-hat-tann") Wašíču ("wash-ee-jew")
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730architect · 2 days ago
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picture your face - L4B (1.1)
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first real tumblr post um hi?? anyways i posted this fic on ao3 last month and it did pretty well so i decided to post it on here as well! so hi if you know me from there or from twt :)
── •✧• ──
wc: 2.4k
tags: liv4brutality, masturbation, hatred, conflicted feelings, liv lowkey hates dominik (yay), callbacks to l4b (2022), liv is still hopelessly in love with rhea but we knew this, light heterosexual couple jumpscares sorry....
── •✧• ──
I had to go into the other room, she sent me something and I can’t think about anything else…
Liv walked confidently to the back after successfully winning a dark match on tonight’s SmackDown, a match she had won with ease. Ease, which really meant continuous interference from her boyfriend, Dominik Mysterio. She cradled her precious championship in her arms as she pointed and laughed in the faces of the fans booing her on her way out. She was on top of the world and there was no woman on the entire roster, on the entire planet for that matter, who could knock her off of her pedestal.
Each victory was sweeter than the last, further cementing her as the greatest women’s world champion of all time, as she so eloquently called herself. She and Dominik were all smiles as they walked through the curtain arm in arm celebrating the champion’s win. However Liv’s smile faded quickly the second they made it back to gorilla, dropping her hand from his.
“You okay, mi güerita?” Dominik asks, immediately noticing her instant lack of affection which had caught him off guard.
“Fine, just a little tired.” Liv replies with a strained smile, attempting to save face. Dominik returned her smile with a bright one of his own, oblivious to her strange behavior.
The truth was, dating Dominik wasn’t all she had imagined it would be. Sure, in the beginning it was sort of fun. But that was due to the fact that Liv had finally gotten the ultimate revenge on the woman who had ruined her life while the whole world watched. She did exactly what she vowed she would do: take everything from Rhea Ripley until she was left with nothing but her shitty shoulder and her own misery.
Unfortunately for Liv, it was obvious that Dominik liked her far more than she liked him; which she took full responsibility for. Her conversations with Finn always seemed to be over the same matter: her true intentions with Dominik. She was not at all prepared for how needy and affectionate Dom would be, both in private and in public. He constantly needed her attention for even the littlest things.
“Hey Liv, should I wear my white or purple boots for my match later?”
“Liv, do you think I look jacked in this picture?”
His constant neediness was enough to drive any woman insane, Liv was amazed that Rhea was able to stay with him for so long. She couldn’t help but discreetly roll her eyes whenever he called her name before putting on a sickeningly sweet smile paired with a skip in her step as she made her way to him. Why did she feel this way?
She and Dominik are back in their shared hotel room after the show. She finds herself trapped in his arms yet again in bed as he mindlessly scrolls through the TV channels. Liv gets up from the bed, tossing Dominik’s tattooed arm off of her and ignoring his audible confusion, mumbling something along the lines of, “I’m going to the bathroom.”
Picture your face, I wanna touch you but you’re too far away…
Liv locks herself in the bathroom and surveys her surroundings, mind still racing. Her eyes land on the large bathtub and decides a bath would help clear her head. She empties the pockets of her shorts and runs the bath water to her desired temperature while she pours soap into the tub, allowing it to form bubbles as she undresses. She tosses her clothes into a pile in the corner of the bathroom and ties her blonde hair up into a lazy bun at the top of her head, then climbing into the warm and welcoming water as bubbles swirled around her. Liv allows herself to sink down, down, down into the tub until only her head breaks the surface of the foamy water.
She tries to dilute her stress but Rhea continues to ravage her thoughts relentlessly, refusing to provide her with even a second of relief. Liv finds her mind drifting back to 2022, when she and Rhea were tag team partners and the best of friends. How Rhea treated her like the only girl in the world, how she picked her up with ease in ways that Dominik could only dream of. Liv feels a pang in her heart as she relives each sweet memory she and Rhea shared together on their quest for tag team gold. Her wet fingers rise and ghost over her lips where she swears she can still taste the sweetness of Rhea’s cheek that she would kiss after every win or loss. No matter what, they had each other. Until they didn’t.
And maybe Liv was naive for thinking that they would last forever, but how could she not when Rhea treated her like the only girl she would ever have eyes for for as long as she lived? Sometimes she thinks about what their lives would be like if Rhea had never turned her back on her. Would they still be tag team partners or would they have split on good terms? Would they be champions together like they once dreamed? The constant state of wonder she repeatedly finds herself in leaves her head pounding. They once looked at each other with such tenderness but now every glance is filled with pure malice.
Know I shouldn't need it but I want affection, know I shouldn't want it but I need attention
She hears a familiar snore come from the other room and immediately recognizes it as Dominik, which only seems to piss her off even more. Liv’s mind shifts once again, thinking about how her stomach would jolt whenever her eyes met Rhea’s as she stared her down, blue eyes morphing into angry slits every time Rhea saw her. Liv would try and put on a hardened expression of her own but to no avail. She just couldn’t ignore the heat that pooled in the pit of her stomach every time Rhea was near. Her breath on the back of Liv’s neck every time she pinned her down to the mat, seething over how much she fucking hated her. And by god did it turn her on.
Her nimble fingers begin to trail down her still-immersed body, fantasizing about how roughly Rhea would grab her, practically throwing her around like a rag doll if she really wanted to. How her sharp canines would flash through her snarl every time she had Liv backed into a corner. She found herself dismissing the wet spots in her underwear after every interaction with her or even after just stumbling across a post of hers on social media.
Liv grabs her phone from the side of the tub and opens Instagram, switching between accounts. Her wet fingers slowly find the search bar and tap on the last and only searched profile: Rhea’s. Liv couldn’t risk making a wrong move and tapping something she wasn’t meant to on accident, which would end up being the most embarrassing thing that could ever happen to her. She looks through Rhea’s profile for a couple seconds, nearly missing her latest post.
It was a mirror picture taken at the gym, nothing Rhea hasn’t posted about a million times before. But this one nearly had Liv’s world crumbling around her. It wasn’t the photo that mattered, despite how good she looked in it. Muscles bulging and glistening with a light sheen of sweat after what Liv assumed to be an intense arm-day workout. Black tattoo ink decorated her skin, wrapping themselves around her arms and fingers as she held her phone in one hand and flexed the other. But it was the caption that truly caught Liv’s attention.
“rhearipley_wwe watch me 👁️‍🗨️”
Liv sat up straight in the bathtub, nearly spilling water onto the bathroom floor with the speed she moved at. She waits for the anger to hit her but it never does. Instead it’s that same familiar throb in her core which she’s sure is coated in slick and not because of the water she’s sitting in. She stops for a moment to listen to her surroundings, relieved when she still hears Dom’s obnoxious snores through the locked door. She sinks back down into the tub, still staring at the photo, eyes drooping slightly with lust. Her fingers trace incoherent shapes onto the soft skin of her thighs as she separates them, exposing her cunt to her digits. She glides her index finger over her opening, almost slipping it inside due to how wet she is. Rhea may be obsessed but Liv was nothing short of infatuated by her.
Now I'm picturing you and you're touching yourself…
Her fingers slowly begin to circle her clit, spreading her slick over the puffy pearl. Liv sighs softly to herself, eyes fluttering shut for a split second before opening again to marvel at the photo. The caption itself almost seems like a teasing invitation in its own right, enticing Liv to slip a finger inside of herself, quickly replacing one with two and imagining it was Rhea’s inked ones instead. Water sloshed around due to her movements as her back arched slightly off the back of the tub she leaned on. “Shit… Rhea…” she whispers to herself through parted lips, Rhea’s name slipping past them like a prayer. Like she’s repenting, begging some sort of divine power for forgiveness for what she’s done as she does it.
Liv never slows the relentless piston of her fingers, going in and out of her weeping hole. The heel of her palm hits her clit with every thrust at the perfect angle, making her brain short circuit with every motion.
A memory from years ago plays in her mind like a technicolor movie. Liv had made her way to the locker room, calling out Rhea’s name as she glanced left and right for her then partner until she saw her standing at the end of the locker room, back facing her.
“Hey Rhea, I was wondering if you wanted to grab some food before we head back to the hotel or something.” Liv chirped as she walked up to her partner, blissfully unaware that she was stripping herself of her ring gear. Rhea turns around to face Liv, her hands reaching behind her back to unclasp her bralette that made up the top half of her gear.
“Sounds good to me, love. What are you in the mood for?” Rhea asks with a toothy smile, thick accent slicing through the air.
She turns around once again and lets out a relieved sigh when she finally unfastens her top, allowing it to fall off of her and completely expose the top half of her body. Liv’s mouth drops open before she quickly regains her composure, trying her hardest not to gawk at her tag partner’s physique, now having half of it fully exposed to her.
Rhea had less tattoos back then, her body a little leaner as she's put on more muscle since. But regardless of how she looked, Liv always found herself pressing her thighs together whenever she saw her, searching desperately for even the smallest bit of friction to provide herself with some semblance of relief before she could tend to it herself. Rhea turns to the side as she throws on a t-shirt, allowing Liv to catch a glimpse of her plush tits and the piercings that adorned them; along with the massive gargoyle tattoo that sat right underneath. She didn’t feel worthy of seeing her like this, all exposed and vulnerable. She didn’t feel worthy of seeing her at all.
The fingers wrapped around her phone still displaying Rhea’s photo had begun to tremble due to the sensation, liking the photo accidentally in the process. Liv however paid no mind, how could she with how her heart hammered in her chest, blood pounding in her ears, drowning out the sounds of her breathy moans and pathetic whimpers as she imagined Rhea’s expression seeing her like this behind her rolled back eyes. Liv eventually drops her phone back down and paws at her breasts, rolling her nipples between her index finger and thumb as she continues the assault on her pussy with her other hand.
She feels pressure increase just below her pelvis, making the entire lower half of her body feel like it’s about to implode. She slows the speed of her fingers ever so slightly to be able to grind her hips down onto them, allowing them to hit even deeper inside of her which makes her head spin. She feels the pressure increase more and more until she pinches at her nipple right as her fingers curl up slightly inside her, hitting that spot that makes her see stars every time. Liv throws her head back and detonates like a bomb around her digits, Rhea’s face the only thing she could see behind her tightly closed eyelids.
“Rhea… oh my sweet girl, oh my god…” she wept to herself, only then realizing that a few tears had rolled down her face. She slowly pulls her fingers out of her cunt, whining at the sensitivity and emptiness she felt. Liv laps her fingers clean, moaning around them as she envisions they’re Rhea’s she’s sucking off rather than her own.
She lays back and takes some much needed deep breaths with her eyes closed, feeling her heart rate return to a normal speed. She opens her eyes to the sound of her phone going off, notifying her that she’s received a text message. Liv picks her phone up to check who it is only to almost drop it into the water when she does.
It’s an unsaved number she hasn’t texted in years, but the lack of caller ID doesn’t serve any purpose considering it’s the only phone number besides hers that she knows by heart. With shaking fingers, she taps on the notification, opening the messages app. The text contains a single screenshot of someone’s instagram notifications. She taps on it and reads “yaonlylivvonce and 82,385 others liked your photo”.
You’re fucking kidding.
The photo in question is the post of Rhea that Liv had just spent the last half hour jerking it to. She’s stuck, frozen in shock as the now lukewarm water stills around her. She’s snapped out of her trance with another text notification, this time it’s a short sentence.
“I guess you really were watching me”
Shit.
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lovingbini · 2 days ago
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beautiful coincidences
seok matthew x female!reader | meet cute | fluff, suggestive, slight making out a/n: i believe y'all know exactly what visual of matthew i'm talking about, right? right? *** you and matthew met at a clothing store when you reached for the same jacket. what happened was what one knows of interest at first sight. eyebrows raised, you waited for him to let go – well, he didn’t.
“alright, give me a reason why i should let you get it,” he said, a smile on his face.
“i can give you two, actually,” you dared. “first of all, i have something this weekend that demands this jacket. second, it will look better on me, respectfully.”
matthew gasped, but the smile never left his beautiful features. he took it as a green light to take a good look on your body, making your eyes slightly pop with such audacity.
“right, i admit you’re gorgeous and have a good styling. but it’s actually my birthday this saturday…” he pouted. “you wouldn’t ruin that by leaving with my favorite jacket, would you?”
you had to laugh.
“that’s funny, ‘cause the something i have this weekend is precisely my birthday party.”
“okay, no need to clown me!”
“i’m not! i’ve been planning this outfit for a while, but just got the money for it yesterday.”
matthew bites his lower lip, contemplating. you have a basket from the store with more clothes, which he acknowledges they match the jacket both of you are still holding.
“maybe we could celebrate together after our parties, what do you think? i could use an apology for making me so so sad.”
you smile once again, unable to resist the charms of the man in front of you.
“yeah, poor sad man, what’s your name again?”
“matthew, yours?”
“i’m y/n. now maybe you should give me your number and i’ll analyze your proposal ‘till saturday, is that alright?”
“perfect for me.” he grins.
***
the bar downtown had lounges on the third floor with a view of the city. you rented one of the spaces to spend the night with your loved ones with no worries. it worked so well that your friends were already planning the next events to be in that same room. the place had a glass wall that allowed you to watch the hallway to be aware of anything that was happening outside.
that’s when you saw him.
matthew was standing on the other side of the building – a cup in his hand, hair slicked back and a jacket that looked exactly like yours. he was talking to what seemed to be his funniest friend; his beautiful smile was out for the world to witness, for you to remember how you didn’t text him at all.
it wasn’t on purpose, really. you just got busy with the preparations and ended up leaving it for later – a later that didn’t come.
sensing he’s being watched, matthew looks around and finds you on the other end. tilting his head to the side, his smile changes. he cheers on you with his almost empty glass, you return the action and sign him to meet you in the hallway.
“well, look who wasn’t lying,” he teases while getting closer. “somehow, i don’t see you wearing that so very demanded jacket…”
you hold a smile.
“it was getting kinda hot in there, but i can put it back if you prefer.”
“oh, no, i wouldn’t tell you to do anything you don’t want to. but i can’t lie and say i don’t enjoy this view even more.” there he goes again, scanning you up and down.
“sorry i didn’t text you, things became pretty hectic the last couple days.”
“nah, it’s fine. guess we can seize the moment right now. keep that communication going with no rush this time.”
and you do. the hours pass while you talk about trivial stuff, making sure to be interested in every aspect of each others lives. matthew’s not only handsome and charismatic, he's also part of the production team from a company you know very well — you were invited to work with them for a promotion but the schedules didn't match after all. what did match, though, was the both of you.
the way you laughed in sync, the way you looked at each other with so much attention and curiosity, the way the slightest touches made you two waver. you wish you would've met sooner, but on the other hand, getting to know each other in a place full of people who cherished you and knew how to have fun— oh, that was perfect.
later, when matthew found a more private space to enjoy your presence, you found yourself pretty comfortable on his lap. his kisses were addicting, his hands pressed your curves in ways you could just imagine. first, he was very attentive of your reactions, second, you were the most obvious woman on earth. nevertheless, it was working, matthew’s smoking hot and eager to show his every move. through the few sane thoughts still roaming in your mind, you couldn’t stop the willingness of taking him back home with you.
“wait, i need to pee,” you say, suddenly.
“like in a kinky way, or something?”
“no, what the hell!”
you burst out laughing and hide your face in his neck. matthew pats you in the back, waiting for a real answer.
“i’m serious. i kind of grinded on you in a way that hurt a bit, so it reminded me i’m here kissing you for a long time now.”
“okay, so go relieve yourself and i’ll be right here, waiting to be grinded on for another long time.”
you kiss him again, biting his lower lip as a punishment, but of course he moaned.
“you’ll be a nightmare to handle, matthew.”
“glad to know we have plans together for the next couple days.”
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amid-fandoms · 3 months ago
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the hot honey bitches
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3416 · 1 year ago
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went thru the five stages of grief scrolling down you blog seeing all these mitch and auston posts today
every day lately i'm going through the same stages............. seeing ppl who would be okay with getting rid of one or both of them like these aren't THE leafs franchise players rn... breaking records together......... coming into this league together and having the most fun playing together specifically............. COME ON. these are THE guys and each others guys in every way :(
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sleepymarimo · 4 months ago
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toji x reader // sfw!
𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 doesn’t remember the last time he was gifted something.
“you got me what?” he asks again, kicking his sandals off at your front door for what seems like the millionth time.
you rise from your couch, the wood creaking slightly as you do so. “just some stuff for you to keep here so you stop using mine,” you reply, the shrug of your shoulders indicating how little of a deal it is.
in the kitchen, you rinse out the glass you’d been using. toji’s footsteps are barely audible over the sound of running water.
“there’s a few pairs of sweats in the hall closet,” you tell him, setting the glass down to dry. “and some other stuff in the bathroom. shampoo, body wash, toothbrush…”
the assassin lets out a small huff, crossing his arms as he leans against the doorway. “you tellin’ me i reek or something?” he accuses, more so to brush off the odd feeling building in his gut.
“maybe.” comes your playful quip, your head tilting as you rest your weight on the counter and look at him. “but seriously, you just come around so often,”- his nose wrinkles at that, as he knows he crashes here much more than he should- “that i figured i’d just get you your own things. it’s not like it cost me an arm and a leg.”
with a yawn you stroll toward your room, lightly poking his chest as you pass him. “plus, you use up all of my stuff, dummy.”
he grunts, his eyes following you until you’re out of sight. “i don’t need fancy clothes or any of that crap,” he murmurs to himself, taking a few steps toward the hall closet.
his large hands wrap around the handles, sliding the doors open until he sees a pile of clothes resting on one of the shelves. three black tees stacked atop three pairs of sweats, some boxers and socks in a little box, all for him.
he picks up a shirt without hesitation, the fabric smooth against his calloused fingers. his brows furrow in concentration, maybe unease. this is for him, it’s his, and maybe that’s why this shirt is the softest one he’s ever felt.
with a gruff exhale, he snatches a pair of sweats and a clean pair of boxers, his steps unhurried as he heads for the bathroom.
the fan hums above him as the lock clicks into place, his eyes immediately darting to the shelves to see the new toiletries. his stuff.
inside the shower, toji’s shoulders sag.
it’s as if the water is washing away his defenses, the rugged, nonchalant exterior he wears now melting away in the comfort of your shower.
toji pops open one of the new shampoo bottles, taking in the scent and pouring it onto his palm. he wonders if this smell reminds you of him, if you put some thought into each item.
while he rubs it into his hair, he thinks about if he should pay you back. it’s not like he asked you to get him all this stuff, but still.
even when you’d first started letting him crash on your couch, you hadn’t demanded much in return.
“just don’t make a big mess and be decent, alright?” he remembers you saying.
and he was just fine with that. free room and board just for something so simple? he’d be a moron to decline.
it was only after around a week that he felt a familiar itch. he wouldn’t be in your debt, wouldn’t wait for the day when you’d inevitably ask for something.
so, he offered what he always did- himself. that’s what women usually wanted from him, anyway.
his idea didn’t exactly go as planned. if anything, it made him feel more conflicted, made him wonder why the hell you kept him around.
were you just lonely? did you enjoy his company?
“oh, no… i don’t do that,” you’d said, holding your hands up, flustered but adamant. “you don’t have to sell yourself to me or anything. who does that? like, what?”
the water patters on the tile floor, his body and mind feeling more clear and clean than they’ve been in a long time.
when the faucet squeaks shut, he steps out and snorts as he sees a new, fluffy black towel hanging beside yours behind the bathroom door. he grabs it, rubbing his scarred skin dry and running it through the damp strands of his hair.
the new clothes feel like heaven, truly.
in your room, engrossed by your phone, you barely hear the sound of the bathroom door opening. toji’s steps are almost silent, his arms crossing over his chest as he watches you beneath the covers.
he’s amused as you snicker at some post, the dim screen lighting up your face in the otherwise dark room.
“let me crash here, yeah?” he suggests, though it’s more of an order.
you’re startled, rightfully so, hiding your phone against your chest while you sit up straighter. “oh, you scared me! new clothes and you think you’re all that, huh? too good for the couch?”
yet, even as you chide him, you’re peeling back the covers for him, grabbing the extra pillows and moving them out of the way.
a satisfied grunt leaves him as he spreads out on the mattress, careless of the space he takes up. he tugs the blankets over his person, settling in like a big cat.
he curls into you. you don’t mind.
while you scroll along with one hand, the other supports his head and absentmindedly strokes the skin of his cheek.
his eyes watch you, his breaths becoming more steady and even. he’d never admit how much it means to him that you’d gotten him new clothes, new toiletries, practically a new home.
it’s more than he deserves, but he finds himself wanting to take as much as he can get.
he’s yours, even if he doesn’t know it. and, as the days go by, he wonders if you can be his, too.
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demaparbat-hp · 13 days ago
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Hiya!! 👋🏼😄 How's it going? Your fashion taste for Zuko in a Modern AU seems to be artsy, or maybe "formal" is the word. That shirt he wore when he gave Sokka romantic song advice looked Versace🧐. Anyway, I was wondering how you came up with it, he always struck me more as the type that didn´t care much about fashion, so I'm curious about other´s opinions and heacanons about it. And do you have any other fashion headcanons for the rest of the GAang? Also, their music tastes. How did you come up with them? Especially Katara's! 😍
Hello! As it happens, I have a lot of Thoughts and Feelings™ about this, so I'm leaving these over here, and the rest of my ramblings down below the cut!
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Let us begin with the Gaang, shall we?
SUKI always struck me as that Pretty Girl from the Gym. She is so incredibly fit it isn't even funny. She could kick anyone's ass, and we'd all thank her. She has this casual gym style that somehow always looks glorious on her, as it should! Comfy yet fashionable clothes for a nice workout or a day in town.
Her music tastes are basically any and all power songs from the eighties and nineties. (Eye of the Tiger, anyone?) She also enjoys metal via Toph, and bands like BSB, NSYNC, or Boyz II Men with Katara. My girl has a very eclectic Playlist and we all love her for it.
SOKKA is That Guy™. Loose T-shirts and shorts everywhere he goes, no matter the weather. He's stupidly into fashion but it doesn't show! At all! And everyone teases him about it. His closet is about 90% Cactus Juice merchandise, hence the "it's the quenchiest!" shirt.
His fashion and music tastes are pretty much the same. He loves poetry but isn't really into lyrics. He'll misinterpret just about anything you place in front of him. His Playlist is mostly vibes and tiktok songs he kind of enjoys. He isn't really into music...at least not as much as his sister.
AANG owns exactly one hoodie, one pair of shorts, and one beanie (THE beanie). Oh, and the crocs—don't forget the crocs. Somehow, he's always wearing the exact same outfit. Every. Single. Day. Ancient Gaang lore suggests that the day Aang goes out without his beanie, it's the end of the world.
His Playlist is the poppiest, most bizarre thing ever. Every single song is Happy by Pharrell Williams levels of happy. Yet sometimes, among the bouncy dance-to songs, you'll find the strangest of things... (He does know what Good Day by Twenty One Pilots is about. That's the reason he likes it so much, actually. And it's so weird.)
KATARA is all about sundresses and loose pants. The epitome of comfortable loveliness. Light fabrics in blue shades, careful embroidery, delicate shoes, and little to no accessories—hers is a simple, yet quite adorable, style. She just needs to add more colors to her usual palette...
She is, first and foremost, a Florence + The Machine girl. It's the Dark Goddess of the Sea vibes, to be honest. Florence Welch is her idol and yes, she will fight you about lyrics interpretation, and win. It may not seem like it, but her music tastes are also very varied.
She draws a little from each member of the Gaang, so you'll hear her humming along to Gorillaz (where did you even find out about them, Aang?), The Weeknd (I...don't think this song means what you think it means, Sokka...), and Hozier (Zuko why did you dedicate Talk to me, Zuko WHAT DID YOU MEAN BY THAT).
TOPH...ah, lovely girl. I'll summarise everything about Toph’s fashion sense in two words: comfort and rebellion. Stuffy dresses forced on her by billionaire parents? No thank you! Give her tank tops with loose shirts and short pants. Bandaids shared with Aang, bracelets from Katara, and even piercings she got in tandem with Sokka. Shoes? What even is that?
Something I love about this fandom is our collective agreement that Toph is into the dirtiest, heaviest, most ear-splitting and soul-crushing death metal of all times. Her Playlist is full of the most obscure names to ever exist, and she can and will blast through your walls with the sheer volume of her speaker.
Zuko. ZUKO.
Even in a modern AU my boy must suffer. That being said, I envision Tales from the Couch as—well, exactly what it is: an ATLA modern AU. While there is not a war to fight, and a lot of plot lines are discarded or expanded upon, much about the core story remains the same.
This is my way of saying that Zuko still goes trough his redemption arc, and it reflects on his fashion choices.
The way you described it works perfectly because of one single reason: in this AU, Zuko is an artist. He had to suppress his love for writing and drawing because of his background and the expectations Ozai had for him (taking over the family company), and a very large part of his redemption arc directly affects his relationship with art.
In the Couch equivalent of S1, Zuko has fallen out of Ozai's graces, and is desperate to protect his place in the company and the Kasai household. He's pretending to be someone he isn't and trying to live up to his Father's image of a perfect heir while still being somewhat cut-off financially, and it shows.
He's all about imposing long coats and a semi-formal style, imitating what he knows Azula and Father would respect. He's striking and sharp and dark. But no matter how he dresses or carries himself (that air of cold superiority and arrogance)—it won't help him when he needs it the most.
In S2, Zuko has hit his lowest point. He's officially disinherited and tossed away by his father, and would be out in the streets if it wasn't for Uncle Iroh. He goes from sharp, high-tailored outfits to old second-hand clothes that hang loosely on his frame. He starts smoking and cuts his hair off, forgoing the undercut for the first time in years.
But then...Father accepts him back. When Zuko returns home, it's with respect to his name and a very high position in his father's company. He's finally the perfect Kasai heir, dressed in overly expensive suits and finery, even at home... But Father forbids him from wearing Lu Ten's earring, and Zuko can no longer recognize himself without the familiar glint of gold dancing on his peripheral vision.
When Zuko leaves the Kasai name behind him and goes back to living with Uncle Iroh...he's finally at peace with who he is, and what he wants in this life. The sharp edges aren't gone (they'll always be a part of him, after all), but now they're dulled by looser clothes and softer hairstyles.
He's an artist, and for once in his life, he is determined to pursue his own ambitions. Zuko's outfits may not be designer-made anymore, but he takes what he has and makes himself look like he wants to look, like the person he wants to be.
He doesn't read fashion magazines or keeps up to the latest trends like Azula does. He's just...Zuko. And his newfound confidence makes everything he wears look like it belongs on him.
As for music...well, Ursa raised a literature boy.
He loves lyric-heavy music and natural voices, be they soothing or powerful. Dissecting song meanings and possible interpretations with Katara is one of his favorite parts of the day. They're both very passionate and strong-minded individuals, so it stands to reason that their debates can get quite...heated.
Zuko's Playlist is both incredibly eclectic and somehow very...him. There's a common thread that binds together every song and artist he likes, and he's hilariously unaware of this. To take a look into his Playlist is a higher honor reserved only for those closest to him.
In the wide spectrum of things, it is no wonder that Zuko is, first and foremost, a Hozier man. But though Andrew is his God in all aspects of this life, there's someone else that has had a huge impact on him...
Two someones, actually.
Zuko refuses to tell anyone how he got into Twenty One Pilots, but it's kind of a moot point when the beginning of his obsession is nothing compared to everything that came after. They have just about the right amount of everything that makes Zuko...well, Zuko. The poetic lyrics, the soothing or raging music, the heavy, intensely resonant themes...
Up there, in the second artwork, I placed an album cover behind each period of Zuko's life. The election of these records is intentional, as I feel like their general themes work incredibly well with Zuko's arc and growth.
Blurryface in S1. For the demons within us. For giving a name to our fears and shame.
Trench in S2. For escaping the confined walls of a depression city, and fighting to understand the depths of the map of your mind.
Scaled and Icy in the first half of S3. For returning to places you had left behind. For convincing yourself and everyone around you that you're fine, that you're perfect, even though everything is crumbling inside...
Clancy in S3. For recognizing that you can backslide, that you can have fears and shame and pain—but you're shaping yourself with each step you take. For knowing that seeking help from others is okay. Nobody learns to walk on their own.
(And, in the end, you'll always be better than the person you were yesterday. If only because you're still here. You're still alive. You're still yourself.)
.
Overall, I rambled a bit too much, don't you think?
If you made it all the way down here—thank you so much for reaching out and being interested in this crazy AU! I hope you enjoy these ideas and tell me some of your own ❤️
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thatoneluckybee · 10 months ago
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i’m over 5'5 / i wear glasses or contacts / i have blonde hair / i often wear sweatshirts / i prefer loose clothing over tight clothes / i have one or two piercings / i have at least one tattoo / i have blue eyes / i have dyed or highlighted my hair / i have or have had braces / i have freckles / i paint my nails / i typically wear makeup / i don’t often smile / resting bitch face / i play sports / i play an instrument / i know more than one language / i can cook or bake / i like writing / i like to read / i can multitask / i’ve never dated anyone / i have a best friend i’ve known for over five years / i am an only child
anyone can join!!
tag game 🤭
rules: color the sentence that's true about you
i’m over 5'5 / i wear glasses or contacts / i have blonde hair / i often wear sweatshirts / i prefer loose clothing over tight clothes / i have one or two piercings / i have at least one tattoo / i have blue eyes / i have dyed or highlighted my hair / i have or have had braces / i have freckles / i paint my nails / i typically wear makeup / i don’t often smile / resting bitch face / i play sports / i play an instrument / i know more than one language / i can cook or bake / i like writing / i like to read / i can multitask / i’ve never dated anyone / i have a best friend i’ve known for over five years / i am an only child
this is a whole lot of yellow lmfao
no pressure tags: @marthawrites @schniiipsel @aemonddtargaryen @aemondsbabe @adragonprinceswhore @arcielee @black-dread @lovelykhaleesiii @aemondsbabygirl @valeskafics @connorsui
#elaboration:#i am 5’6#miles you should. you should give me an inch off your height and we can match.#i cant freakin see (i dont wear my glasses NEARLY as often as i should. i prefer contacts but i dont have any right now sob)#in THEORY but i hate how to feels when clothes brush against each other so tight clothes it is (just. like skinny or straight jeans and#tighter t-shirts but that sensory problem DOES make it hardest to dress modest which i prefer)#do earrings count? i just have earrings. i’d love to get more on my ears but i would not be able to care for them well lol#i dont think stabbing myself with a pen years ago counts on this#brown eyes :3#braces—I actually think braces are really cute but they annoying#eh my jaw’s screwed tf up so ill deal with it#havent died it!#so. many. freckle#not usually#again not usually#i cant exactly force myself to smile or stop smiling i suck at faces but i do when i have a reason lol#YES IM SO SORRY#no#no.#not yet—its almost required for any jobs i may have so im gonna have to get better eventually at this lol#NO i BLOW THINGS UP#I LOVE WRITING STUFF but no motivation#AGAIN NO MOTIVATION… webtoons save me (i need stories to live and its easier to carry my phone than a book everywhere and i can save my#place. e-books are easier with this but its so hard for me to read them)#it depends#nope dont plan on changing that anytime soon#YES. i love mah friends and there’s two i can think of that im NOT related to that ive known for almost 8 years now?#i have brother#tag game
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5sospenguinqueen · 22 days ago
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Going To The Chapel - Arthur Leclerc x Reader
Summary: A glimpse into life with Arthur Leclerc since your engagement. 
Warnings: Fluff. Marriage. Pregnancy. Suggestive comments
Requested: Yes by @1800-love-me . requested newlyweds/new dad arthur
F1 Masterlist
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yn_ln just posted
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yn_ln i had the most amazing weekend with my girls. thank you for planning such a relaxing time away. only one week left until i marry the love of my life  tagged: alexandrasaintmleux, bestfriend, charlotte2304
1,617 comments 
charles_leclerc i’m still disappointed that i wasn’t invited :( 
→ alexandrasaintmleux you had a bachelor party to go to, mon coeur 
→ charles_leclerc yeah but they didn’t have matching robes
→ arthur_leclerc i offered to wear matching underwear with you? 
bestfriend thank you for not saying “only one week until you marry your best friend” because i would’ve had to kill myself, and then you 
→ yn_ln oh
arthur_leclerc my beautiful girl. i cannot wait to marry you 
→ yn_ln counting down the days until i can call myself your wife 
→ user1 ugh, i need a love like these two 
alexandrasaintmleux you’re going to make the most beautiful bride 
→ yn_ln once i work off the hangover you inflicted on me
→ alexandrasaintmleux you didn’t have to keep drinking the prosecco
→ yn_ln you didn’t have to keep topping my glass up! 
→ bestfriend she was getting you drunk enough that you would agree to run away with her and not marry arthur
→ arthur_leclerc hey! 
charles_leclerc just posted
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charles_leclerc a day full of tears and joy. i’m so proud of you, little brother. and beautiful yn, you have been part of this family since arthur first brought you home to us but now we can officially call you leclerc 🤍
5,516 comments
user2 love how he posted an individual pic of yn but not his brother 
→ yn_ln i’m the family favourite out of the two of us 
→ arthur_leclerc i would disagree but you are my favourite 
user3 i love how close charles would’ve had to get for that veil pic
→ alexandrasaintmleux we did have to keep dragging him away from them  
→ charles_leclerc i’m just so happy! 
francisca.cgomes the most beautiful bride 
user4 i love that photo of the two of them sat at the table together 
→ charles_leclerc thank you. i had to sneak back to get it but it was just the two of them in their own little world 
→ yn_ln i was telling him how desperate i was to get out of my dress
→ user5 and he was telling you how desperate he was to get you out of your dress?
→ arthur_leclerc yes
lorenzotl i love you both so much. welcome to the family, yn 🩷
user6 oh okay. this has reminded me of how alone i am 
user7 the cutest couple! 
yn_leclerc just posted
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yn_leclerc sand, sea and a new surname 🏖️
2,347 comments
user8 she changed her name! 
charles_leclerc did you do anything other than kiss? geez 
→ pierregasly it’s their honeymoon. i bet they did a lot more than kiss 
→ charles_leclerc ew
user9 look, we all know you spent the honeymoon shagging each other but you didn’t need to post proof
→ user10 and to think these are the photos they thought were acceptable to share liked by yn_leclerc 
arthur_leclerc my favourite place will always be beside you 
→ yn_leclerc i may not let you leave
→ oscarpiastri married arthur is a cheesy arthur 
alexandrasaintmleux i’m loving these photos! 
→ yn_leclerc maybe you should be next 
→ charles_leclerc don’t give her ideas! 
user11 oh a leclerc thirst trap was not what i was expecting 
user12 is this pr approved? 
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arthur_leclerc just posted
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arthur_leclerc coming soon. baby leclerc
3,549 comments
alexandrasaintmleux i’m so excited for baby leclerc to arrive. is it bad that i’ve already bought loads of clothes?
→ charlotte2304 competing for favourite aunty already, i see
→ yn_leclerc favourite aunty will be whichever one of you gets me a drink first when baby is here
user1 the charles leclerc project is happening 
→ scuderiaferrari we are already having a mini f1 car made 
user2 you’ve only been married 6 months
→ user2 oh
→ user3 honeymoon baby 
charles_leclerc i’m so glad you finally told people. the amount of baby ferrari gear i’ve had made that i have wanted to post 
charles_leclerc i am going to make the best uncle
→ lorenzotl *second best uncle
yn_leclerc i didn’t realise having a baby was going to create a leclerc civil war 
landonorris that is more of your wife than i wanted to see 
→ arthur_leclerc just say congrats, mate
oscarpiastri i guess this means our affair is over
user4 somebody enjoyed their honeymoon a little too much 
arthur_leclerc just posted
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arthur_leclerc our baby girl was born late last night. she is happy and healthy, and yn is doing well
4,478 comments 
yn_leclerc i love you, mon amour. i couldn't have done this without you
→ arthur_leclerc thank you for blessing me with the most amazing family
charles_leclerc can confirm, she also smells so good
alexandrasaintmleux she’s wearing the little booties i bought! please give baby and yn a huge hug from me
→ user5 you don’t get to meet baby?
→ alexandrasaintmleux i’m not currently in monaco but visiting them will be the first thing i do when i’m back
user6 girl dad arthur incoming! 
charlotte2304 missing those baby cuddles already 
→ yn_leclerc we’re home tomorrow so please come over 
→ yn_leclerc you can cuddle baby whilst i have a wash 😂
user7 a baby girl! 
francisca.cgomes you put my giraffe in the bed with her 🥹
→ pierregasly don’t let her meet baby leclerc, please. i’ve only just gotten her a puppy 
→ yn_leclerc oh but how cute would a baby gasly be! 
→ pierregasly no!
→ arthur_leclerc nobody warns you that your wife will be broody again the second she’s had a baby
→ yn_leclerc excuse me, i think you mean no one warns you that your husband will be begging you for a second baby
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yn_leclerc just posted
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yn_leclerc in honour of mon bébé turning 1 yesterday, please enjoy some snippets of this past year. it has been both exhausting and incredible, and i couldn't have done it without my amazing family
2,091 comments
charles_leclerc i can’t believe my niece is one already. she’s growing too fast 
→ arthur_leclerc which is why we should have a second one
→ charles_leclerc yes! that is a great idea
→ yn_ln this is why i don’t leave the two of you alone with her anymore
user8 that pic of arthur and baby leclerc sleeping?! never wanted kids before but now
→ user9 like he was cute before but now he’s a dilf?
→ yn_leclerc i can’t believe i just had to read that 
→ arthur_leclerc you called me a dilf last night?
alexandrasaintmleux being aunty alex this past year has been the best part of my adult life 
→ yn_ln you can take her for the week if you like. she’s teething so…
→ user10 haha this is so real if you’re a mum 
pierregasly who let charles wear that goofy hat 
user11 omg charles and baby leclerc though 
arthur_leclerc why have you never shown me that photo of us sleeping! she’s literally smiling in her sleep from my cuddles! mon coeur! how could you keep this from me
arthur_leclerc what other photos have you been keeping from me
arthur_leclerc i’m not helping you make a second one until you show me all the photos 
→ yn_leclerc does that mean i get a break from you?
→ arthur_leclerc now people are going to think i mount you all the time
→ charles_leclerc ew why did you word it that way liked by yn_leclerc 
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requests are open
tag list
@peachiicherries @rosecentury @c-losur3 @heavy-vettel @evie-119 @raizelchrysanderoctavius @lilorose25
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yuyusbabygirl · 3 months ago
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Darling Mine
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pairing: yunho x fem!reader
word count: 2.35k
content warnings: SMUT, 18+ MINORS DNI, dom/sub dynamics, dom!Yunho, sub!reader, reader is tied up, oral (fem receiving), choking, safe sex, slight possessiveness, aftercare
summary: You spend the night at your boyfriend's place for the first time and he really likes it when you wear his clothes
You wake up alone in Yunho’s bed. He must’ve already gotten up. As you lay there, you think back to last night. It was the first night you spent at your boyfriend’s apartment after dating for a month. You both decided to take things slow.
“I want to do this right. I plan to spend the rest of my life with you so we have all the time in the world,” he said to you when you asked why he had never tried to initiate anything sexual.
Truth be told, it had scared you. You had never been with a guy so honest about his intentions, so all in. You thought he simply might not want you in that way. He sure proved you wrong last night. He had taken you out on a date because you had both not seen each other for a week due to work. Yunho had taken you on a picnic in the park where he had first met you. You had both talked for hours, catching up on each other’s lives, feeding each other bits of food. A sudden rain shower had forced you two to run to his apartment, giggling the whole way. You were both drenched when you arrived. You had stood in his hallway, breathing heavily as you looked at each other. Yunho had walked to you, taking you into his arms and slowly started kissing you. You undressed each other carefully and he carried you to his bed.
As you lay there now, still naked, you couldn’t help but touch your lips. You remember how softly he kissed you, like you were the most precious thing he had ever touched. A soft giggle escapes you. He was soft and gentle the whole night, constantly praising you, bringing you over the edge multiple times before he even thought of his own pleasure. It was unusual for you. Not that guys before him had been horrible in bed, you just never had sex with a guy that cared so much about your pleasure than his own. You had fallen asleep in his arms for the first time and as you lay there now you decide you never want to sleep anywhere else again.
Deciding you can’t lay in bed forever, you sit up. You look around Yunho’s room but remember how you stripped off in the hallway. You see his favorite flannel hanging over his gaming chair and put it on. It is already oversized on Yunho so you completely drown in it. But it is soft and it smells like him.
You make your way to the kitchen where you see Yunho struggling with the frying pan. Oh no, he’s trying to cook. Bad idea. He had tried to cook for you for your second date and burned the rice. You have no idea how someone can burn rice but you decided that Yunho should never cook again.
“Hey, you really think you should be cooking? We both know what happened last ti-“ you did not get to finish your sentence because as soon as you spoke Yunho looked up and saw you. Tousled hair from last night, his hickeys still on your neck. And you in his clothes. Before you could reprimand him more for attempting to cook he was on you. He grabbed your face and kissed you, pushing you back against the wall.
The kiss was messy and desperate. A stark contrast to last night. Last night he wanted to be soft and gentle because it was your first night together. He had no mind for soft and gentle now after seeing you in his clothes. You looked so fucking tiny. So fucking soft. And so fucking his.
One of his hands moves from your face to your hair, roughly tugging it back so he could deepen the kiss, while the other moves to your bare thigh. He slides his hand upwards and let out a possessive growl when he realizes you were naked underneath. He had always known that he was possessive over you. The first time he gave you his jacket when you were cold he nearly threw his promise of taking things slow out the window. But nothing could have prepared him for the sight of you in his favorite flannel, walking out of his bedroom after he made love to you the whole night.
He picks you up, wrapping your legs around his waist and carries you back to his bed. His lips never leave yours, messily licking into your mouth, swallowing your mewls that went straight to his cock.
As he throws you down his bed you gasp and look up at him. You had suspected that there was more to your lovely boyfriend than this sweet and gentle façade. As you lay there breathlessly he looks down at you, his expression dark with a possessive glint that you had seen in his eyes once or twice before. But he had always covered it up very quickly. It seems he was finally done holding back.
You go to undo the buttons of the flannel before he stops you.
“Don’t you fucking dare,” he grunts out. His low tone and the dominance in his eyes make your stomach flip.
Fuck, how was he supposed to hold back when you looked at him like that? Wide eyes, lips parted. So submissive and all for him. He slowly crawled on top of you, keeping eye contact.
“You will keep my shirt on while I fuck you. You will not hold back any noises and you will do as I say. Understood?” he demands.
You nod.
“Use your words,” he snarls as he grips your jaw.
“Yes, Yunho,” you whimper.
“Good girl,” he drawls as he pats your face.
This new side of him made you incredibly wet. You had always enjoyed being told what to do in bed but Yunho was so effortlessly dominant that it took all your strength not to fall too hard into subspace. Another time. When you both talked about your limits more.
“Give me your wrists,” he holds out his hand as he waited for you to comply. You offer him your wrists and he pushed them above your head before you felt rope around them. He ties them quickly to his headboard and looks down at you, satisfied.
He leans in and kisses you again, rougher than before. His mouth moves to your ear where he whisperes “If you want me to stop, say goldfish.”
You hum in agreement and he begins licking and biting at your neck, determined to give you new marks. His hand grips your hair again and pulls your head back so abruptly that you cry out.
“Yes, let me hear you. Fuck, let the whole neighborhood hear how good I am making you feel, that you’re mine,” he chuckles in your ear.
He sits back on his heels and roughly grips your thighs before spreading them. The sight of your wet cunt elicits a growl from him. He couldn’t wait to fuck you again. He leans down to your cunt and licks a long stripe through your folds. The moan you let out nearly sends him over the edge. You throw your head back, tugging at the restraints.
“Look at me,” he barks at you.
You look down into his eyes. His expression is full of lust as he licks you again, not letting you look away. You try to close your legs around his head but his grip on your thighs is too strong.
You whine as he continues to lick at your pussy before he suddenly sucks on your clit. Your back flies off the bed as you let out a high pitched moan of his name. You can feel him grunt into your pussy, pleased by your reaction. Yunho grips your thighs tighter as he hikes them up further and pushes them towards your chest. The position leaves your cunt pressed up to his face as he continues to devour you. You can feel your climax approaching fast and hard but before you can reach it he pulls away.
“Noo, please,” you whine and feel tears gathering in the corners of your eyes as he steals your orgasm.
He chuckles darkly at your pathetic whines. He waits until you stop twitching before continuing his assault on your pussy. He licks between your folds with vigor and looks straight at you when his teeth close slightly around your clit. The tears you let out make his cock twitch. He had never seen a prettier sight. He runs his tongue over your clit but pulls away as he feels the telltale twitches of your approaching orgasm.
“Please, please let me cum,” you cry as he steals yet another orgasm from you.
“I decide when you cum. Now take what I give you,” he grins at you sadistically before attaching his mouth back to your cunt.
You can’t hold back the mewls and tears as Yunho robs you of yet another orgasm. By the fourth denied orgasm you’re a complete mess. Tears are streaming down your face, drool is dripping from the corner of your mouth and you’re pretty sure the sheets underneath you are soaked.
“Beg,” he commands.
“Please, Yunho. Please, I need to cum. I can’t take it anymore, please. Please, I need you. Please, please,” you beg him, words slurring together.
“Fuck, you’re so good for me. Don’t worry, I’ll let you cum,” he strokes your face and you could weep in relief, “but you’ll do it on my cock”.
Yunho moves back up your body, running his hand over your stomach and boobs, still hidden by his flannel and another surge of possessiveness flows through him. He shrugs off his shirt and boxers and you pull at your restraints, wanting to touch him.
He leans over you to get a condom from his nightstand and rolls it onto his length. He had to stretch you out last night to ensure you can take him but with four orgasms denied from you, you are more than ready to take him now.
He puts your legs over his shoulders as he lines himself up with your cunt. You whine as he rubs his tip over your clit and he chuckles, “What is it, princess?”.
“Please, Yunho. Fuck me,” you moan out.
“Whatever my girl wants, she gets,” he mutters before thrusting into you. He growls and grunts as he feels your tight cunt gripping him and before you can warn him you cum on his cock.
His mouth opens in awe and he watches you twitch around him.
“Shit, baby. One thrust and you cum already? Are you that desperate?” he coos at you in fake sympathy, knowing fully well how needy you were. He doesn’t give you time to come down from your high and immediately sets a rough pace. His hand goes to your throat, not squeezing just yet. His thrusts are deep and hard and you try hard not to scream. His hand on your throat makes everything feel more intense and you want him to choke you but can’t form any coherent sentence. You tighten your legs around his waist, already feeling another orgasm coming. The only word you can form is his name which only fuels his need to make you cum again.
“Give me another, pretty girl. I know you can cum again for me. You were so desperate to cum just now so fucking do it,” his low growls make it impossible not to comply and you hold on to the ropes tied around your wrists as you cum again.
“That’s it. Just like that. Fuck, you’re so good for me, my princess. All for me. Say it,” he squeezes your throat as he continues his hard and unforgiving pace.
“F-fuck, y-yours, Yunho. All y-yours,” you stutter out, not able to speak correctly with his hard strokes and his hand around your throat.
Your moans and tears nearly make him cum but he’s determined to make you cum one more time. He brings a hand to your cunt and begins rubbing your clit hard and fast. You squeal so loudly that he’s sure the neighbors can hear you but that only fuels his need to make you scream.
“Cum again. Cum for me, my pretty girl,” he bites out, holding back from cumming just yet.
His ministrations on your clit, his hard thrusts, his voice and the sight of him all sweaty above you lead to you cumming harder than you did before. You whimper out his name, not even able to scream anymore. As he feels you cum again, he quickly pulls out and pulls the condom off. He strokes himself and shoots onto your pussy and lower stomach, some of it getting onto his flannel. The sight of you in his flannel and now covered in his cum nearly make him hard again. He collapses on top of you, both of you breathing hard. Yunho nuzzles his nose into your neck, softly kissing you before reaching up and untying your wrists. He takes you into his arms and holds you close.
“Are you okay, baby?” he asks, softly rubbing your wrists. You nod, tired but happy. “You need to tell me if I was too rough with you,” he looks at your face, searching for any sign of subdrop. You smile at him and put your hand on his cheek.
“You were perfect, Yunho,” you reassure him. He relaxes and peppers kisses all over your face, making you giggle. He presses one last kiss to your nose before getting up and bringing a cloth so he can clean you up. You sigh softly as he wipes up both of your cum from between your legs.
“I did not know wearing your clothes would have this effect on you,” you say as you watch him dutifully clean you. He chuckles a bit as he finishes up and tosses the cloth to the side.
“What can I say, I’m crazy about you,” he says before he kisses you lovingly.
hope you like it, thoughts are always welcome
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joemama-2 · 4 months ago
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aged up megumi
“you’re drunk.”
megumi’s head lifts up at the sudden sound of your voice. it’s funny how quick the action is too, like your voice immediately pulls his chin up as it speaks. even in a crowded room full of people who he doesn’t know and doesn’t want to know, he’ll find your voice. he always finds you. but right now, he’s not in a crowded room.
the night sky is pretty and the breeze causes you to shiver slightly. he should be shivering too considering he’s not even wearing a jacket, but maybe his senses are too wacky to even care. or maybe he’s just too focused on your presence. he’s sitting on some steps to whatever house, a stranger’s that he decided to rest on after his so called ‘friends’ left him there.
yuuji and nobara didn’t actually leave him. they just took his drunk ass out the car, while simultaneously texting you his location. and like the good friend(?) you are, you went. no questions asked. what you didn’t expect was to see megumi shitfaced. that was not on your bingo card.
back to the present, the small flush of his cheeks and hazy eyes make you want to physically coo at the sight. instead, you tilt your hair and raise a suspecting eyebrow at his prolonged silence. you hold back a scoff, usually it’s him being the serious one.
megumi lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. “you’re here.”
you sigh. biting your lip for a second as you assess the situation. “i thought you were with yuuji and nobara.”
“i was.”
“then where are they?”
he simply shrugs. “they left. left me here.” he sees your confused expression, muttering—more like mumbling—a continued response. “told me to sit and wait. didn’t know i was waiting for you.”
ah. you’ll remember to scold those two later on. “i didn’t know i was coming to you either.”
there’s a small huff that escapes his pretty lips. “guess we’re both surprised.”
there’s a silence that follows. you want to sigh heavily, why he was drunk in the first place almost concerned you. megumi was always sober, always the DD, what was different about tonight that he decided to change that? never mind, you’re more focused on getting him back to the dorms.
your eyes travel back to him after looking up at the sky during your mental battle, but he’s still looking at you. he hasn’t stopped looking since you came, actually. his staring has always sorta freaked you out, made you feel naked even with clothes on. “thought you were on a date.”
you grimace at the reminder, but quickly push it away. you were on a date, but that’s the last thing you want to think about right now. “i was.” you settle with a vague answer. of course, he’ll pry.
“then why aren’t you there?”
“i left.”
“why?”
“for you, apparently.”
megumi’s heart really shouldn’t be doing somersaults right now. but he can’t help it. he knows it’s wrong, you’re just friends and friends don’t feel this way about each other. he hasn’t told you anything and he probably never will. hell, you probably don’t even feel the same way. and megumi is not going to handle your rejection well, which is why is he’ll forever admire from a distance.
but with each day, that distance seems to be growing smaller and smaller.
“how much did you drink?” your question interrupts him.
he debates on telling you the truth or a lie. but just as much as megumi stares, you observe. so, megumi can never,—no—will never lie to you. “few shots.”
“how many?” you prod, taking a small step closer.
“forgot.”
of course. if he forgot how much he drank, it must’ve been a lot. and megumi drinking is one thing, but him drinking a lot is another. now you’re even more concerned. with a small huff of air, you finally stand in front of him.
his head angled upwards to look at you while yours is down. his fingers twitch to reach out for you, but he somehow is holding back. well, he was holding back. for barely two seconds.
he can blame it on the alcohol later, his actions can have consequences for a future, sober him. right now he’s too focused on the way your fingers feel laced with his own, your smaller hand in his. you’re a little shocked by his boldness, but you don’t pull away.
maybe you should, because now megumi is getting ideas. ideas that you want him just as much as he wants you—
“are you okay?” your soft voice is laced with worry, eyebrows knitted together. your fingers just slightly tighten around his.
and he gulps down the lump in his throat. why he has one in the first place is a mystery to him. for a second, he feels like he can’t speak. when his voice finds him, it sounds different. “yeah.”
by the slurring of his words, you conclude it’s time to take him home. “cmon, let’s get you back.” your face scrunches up as you attempt to lift him up from the stairs. even in dry knees, megumi is helping you out, using as much strength he currently has to bring his body to a standing.
once he’s on his own two feet, you place one of his arms around your shoulders and walk to your car. it’s a small, but silent walk. there’s a bit of a challenge, having to balance him but also open the passenger side door.
“watch your head.” you murmur and he hums back as you place him down into the passenger seat, reaching over to buckle his belt.
your scent invades his nostrils and he suddenly feels the urge to cry. god, he’s never drinking again. once he’s buckled up, you pull back to get a better look at him.
you don’t like seeing him in such a state. a disheveled one. he looks small, vulnerable. the sight alone pulls at your heartstrings. “megumi?”
“hm?” his eyes are half-lidded, but he still finds it in him to meet your own. “i won’t throw up.”
there’s a breathy chuckle from you while you wipe some hair out of his eyes. “i know.”
he leans into your touch. your hand lingers longer than it should, savoring his skin against yours while he wishes this could last forever.
it doesn’t, of course. because you’re soon pulling away, closing the door, and getting into the car yourself.
the drive is once again quiet. you spare him a few glances along the way to make sure he’s still conscious. in the new few minutes, you’re at the school and parked.
you feel like you lost a few calories just from hauling him out the car and back to his dorm. over time, he’s leaned more of his weight on you, but you can’t chastise him for that.
his door is already unlocked as you twist the knob and it’s a great relief when you finally situate him in his bed. you sigh heavily and wipe a bead of sweat from your forehead. “i’ll get some water and a trash can, okay?”
“said ‘m not throwin’ up.”
“you don’t know that.”
you grab one of the bottled waters from his mini fridge you gifted him for christmas and the trash from his bathroom, placing it by the bed. “drink.” he groans as you lift his head up and gently coax the water into his mouth. once done, he’s laying back down.
sitting on the edge of his bed, watching him, you finally ask the burning question. “what happened tonight?”
he’s hesitating, you can tell. but of course, megumi can’t lie to you. so he looks at you again, deciding that maybe it’s okay if he comes clean. if this ruins your friendship, he’ll always be grateful for what you showed him. “you.”
your brows furrow. “what?”
he sighs. “you. where you were tonight.”
oh, it’s starting to click. “you mean my da—“
“don’t even say the word.” his hand soothes the pinch of his eyebrows. “it’ll make me sick.”
now, you want to laugh. really laugh. but you’ll hold back for now. “i thought you weren’t gonna be sick?”
“i am if i have to think about you and another guy.”
“he was a nobody.” your lips purse, confused as to why you’re even reassuring him in the first place.
“keep it that way.” his hand pulls away to give you a firm look. well, as firm as a drunk person could give.
strange butterflies flutter in your stomach and now you might be sick. “..why?”
there’s another pause before he says with finality. “cause…you have me.”
you have him. in what way? you want to ask, but he’s drunk and this is…more than likely a conversation you should be having when both parties are sober. so, you opt for a soft sigh. “i have you?”
“and i have you.” megumi murmurs back, his beautiful lashes beginning to flutter as the signs of exhaustion take over.
you smile, and so does he. although, it’s not as obvious as yours, you’re observant. so that smile means everything to you. he means everything to you. which is why…..
“go to sleep.” you whisper, bringing the covers up to his chin. “we’ll talk in the morning.”
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intodarknes · 1 year ago
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Adding some great Romana II outfits from the EU:
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Not her best choice, but it's the highest fahion on Gallifrey.
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Same with this one.
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No idea what's going on here, but I love it!
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Also adding this picture of her Shada outfit. Just because I think that it looks like this is where she belongs!
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Her wearing four outfit and then wearing her own version of it was just <3
Romana is the Companion with the Best Fashion Sense!
Okay, but which one?
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TOURNAMENT MASTERPOST
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alisonsfics · 2 months ago
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wrong name
pairing: tyler owens x best friend!reader
summary: you were doing a great job suppressing your feelings for your best friend until you hooked up with a guy and called out tyler’s name in bed. but it’s fine, tyler would never find out, right? right?
word count: 3.4k
warnings: smut, unprotected sex, car sex, fingering, praise kink, dirty talk, minors DNI (18+ only)
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It had been one week since the most mortifying moment of your life.
You’d gone on a first date with a guy named Finn because that’s what you do when you’re trying to get over your crush on your best friend. You hope that maybe you’ll meet a guy that you’ll fall harder for and stop crushing on the guy who would never see you like that.
So, you went back to his place after dinner, and the sex was mediocre at best.
At first, Tyler only popped into your head for second. You imagined how much better it would feel if it was his hands running over your body. Then, you had more intrusive thoughts. Like the thought of Tyler bending you over and fucking you.
It’s only because you were desperate. There was nothing worse than trying to pretend you were having a good time when you were just bored out of your mind.
So, you suggested to Finn that he should blindfold you.
From there, your imagination really soared, and you allowed yourself to believe you were with Tyler.
It was a fun little secret, just for you.
Until you both came, and you called out Tyler’s name and not his.
You were praying you’d spontaneously combust because you couldn’t face him after that. You quickly scrambled back into your clothes and went home.
You were doing okay at pretending it never happened. When you were lying in bed at night, the memory liked to sneak up on you and mortify you all over again.
So, you were boycotting dates for the moment because you couldn’t risk doing it again.
You had a boring night of wine and a movie planned for yourself when Tyler called you. “Hey, Tyler? What’s up?” You asked him, cheerily.
“You got any plans tonight? I was thinking about going out to a bar.” He suggested.
Even over the phone, his voice ran right through you. Goosebumps ran down your arms as you tried to hide your excitement. “That sounds great. Pick me up at 8?” You suggested.
“Sounds perfect, see you soon.” He replied.
You hung up the phone and flopped backwards onto your bed. The heat rushed to your cheeks. You had to fight the urge to giggle and kick your feet.
You’d been friends with Tyler for years, which didn’t mean you stopped getting butterflies around him. You just got better at hiding it.
You both had been through a lot together, and you didn’t want to jeopardize it by letting he find out you were harboring feelings for him.
So, you picked out a cute black dress to wear. One that Tyler’s eyes would linger over, but he’d never admit it. Just like every time the two of you went out to a bar.
You’d just finished getting ready whenTyler’s red truck pulled up outside your apartment. You quickly ran down the stairs to greet him.
“There she is,” he said, his eyes running down your body as he got out of the truck. That look of awe was enough to make you feel dizzy.
You could feel the butterflies start to swarm as he walked closer to you. “You look gorgeous as always.” He said, taking your hand and spinning you in a circle.
You thanked him as he pulled you in for a quick hug.
“Your chariot awaits.” He joked, opening the passenger door for you.
The drive there went by in a flash. You and Tyler knew each other like the back of your hands, so you could easily spend hours talking about nothing and everything.
“So, any particular reason you wanted to go out tonight?” You asked, looking over at Tyler as you both took a seat at the bar. You knew Tyler’s favorite solution for problems at work was going out drinking with you. No one could calm Tyler down the way you could.
“Can’t it just be because I wanted to hang out with my best friend?” He asked, cocking his head to the side. You rolled your eyes at him, swatting his arm. “While I am a delight, I know that’s not it.” You encouraged him, letting your hand linger on his forearm.
His eyes darted down. The way your small hand was gripping onto his muscular arm was enough to distract him. You quickly pulled your hand away, feeling slightly embarrassed after seeing his reaction.
“Just tornado stuff. We had this big opportunity to get a bunch of data, but some of the equipment malfunctioned. We lost almost everything.” He explained. He was eager to move the conversation past how he had almost malfunctioned because you grabbed his arm.
You gave him a small sympathetic smile. “I’m sorry, Tyler. That’s frustrating. You’ll figure it out. I mean, you’re the tornado wrangler after all.” You said, cheesily trying to cheer him up. Tyler chuckled and looked down at his hands.
Ever since Tyler had been branded the “Tornado Wrangler,” you loved to tease him about it.
“Oh, c’mon, you know I hate when you call me that.” He groaned, smiling at you. You cheekily shrugged your shoulders.
“I gotta go to the bathroom real quick. Can you watch my drink?” You asked him. Tyler quickly nodded, sliding your drink over in front of him. You rushed towards the bathroom, where you assumed there’d be a line.
“Two shots of tequila please,” Tyler heard a man come up to the bar and order beside him.
He didn’t pay a lot of attention to it, until he saw the man down both shots back to back, out of the corner of his eye. “Rough day?” Tyler joked, looking over at the man.
“Rough week,” the man corrected him, with a grim expression. Tyler looked at the man’s face, not being able to shake the feeling that he knew him from somewhere.
“Wait, do we know each other? You look familiar.” Tyler said, furrowing his eyebrows as he thought. The man gave him an awkward smile and shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t think so, man.” He said, knowing he’d never seen Tyler before.
That’s when he saw Tyler’s eyes light up in recognition. “Oh, wait. You’re Finn, right?” He asked him.
Finn’s expression only became more anxious and worried. “Yeah, umm. I am, but how do you know my name? I don’t think we’ve ever met.” He asked.
Tyler quickly shook his head, trying to assure the man who was growing more nervous. “No, we haven’t met. You went on a date with my friend Y/N last weekend. She showed me your picture before you guys had your date.” Tyler said.
Finn nodded in recognition. All the memories of that night came rushing back to him. “Oh, yeah. That explains it.” Finn said, sheepishly. It was clear to Finn that this man he was speaking to didn’t know anything about how that date went.
“Sorry, don’t want to be rude. I’m Tyler, by the way.” Tyler said, quickly shaking Finn’s hand. Finn stared blankly back at him. “Tyler?” He asked, feeling his blood run cold. Tyler nodded, giving Finn a friendly smile.
Meanwhile, you were on your way back to the bar.
“Hey, Tyler. I’m back.” You said, reaching to grab your drink back from Tyler. Your gaze drifted past Tyler to the man that was standing beside him.
“Hey, Y/N. Good to see you.” Finn said, with a fake smile. You felt yourself freeze. You wanted to run away, but you couldn’t convince your feet to move.
“Oh—uh, Finn. Yeah, good to see you.” You nervously lied. Your eyes darted between Tyler and Finn. You were praying Finn hadn’t found out Tyler’s name. You were also praying he hadn’t told Tyler what happened.
“I guess you haven’t told your friend, Tyler, here that our date was kind of a bust.” He said, coldly.
You wrapped your hand around Tyler’s bicep, trying to tug him towards you. You wanted Tyler to get the hint that you really wanted to leave.
Tyler turned to face you. He saw the pure panic in your eyes. “You okay?” He asked you, quietly.
You tried to form the word “no,” but no sound would come out of your mouth. All you could imagine was Finn telling Tyler what happened. You could practically see the way that Tyler’s face would change.
“I think the guy deserves to know.” Finn said, noticing the way you were tensed up. You weren’t hard to read in this moment, but Finn had been humiliated when you said the wrong name. So, he wanted revenge.
“That’s none of his business.” You said firmly. You refused to look Tyler in the eye. You were worried that if you did, he’d somehow see into your soul and know what happened.
“Let’s go.” Tyler said, standing up and wrapping his hand tightly in yours. Tyler knew how uncomfortable Finn was making you and wanted to get you out of there as quick as possible.
Tyler turned to leave, pulling you with him when Finn yelled after you both.
“We hooked up, but she called out your name, not mine.” Finn said.
You felt the hair on the back of your neck stand up. Your stomach sank. You felt like the floor was going to open it up and pull you under.
You tugged your hand away and ran out of the bar and into the parking lot. Tyler was trying to process what he’d just heard.
He turned around to face Finn, who had a grin on his face. “The lady told you to shut up.” Tyler practically growled, shoving Finn against the bar.
Tyler turned on his heel to follow you towards the car.
When he got outside, he saw you standing by the passenger side of the truck. Your arms were crossed, and your eyes were focused on the ground.
“Sweetheart—” Tyler started to say before you cut him off.
“I want to go home.” You snapped. Your tone came out harsher than you meant to.
Tyler slowly nodded. He didn’t want to push you to talk about something you didn’t want to talk about. You both got into the car in complete silence.
Tyler hesitated before putting the keys in the ignition. He glanced over at you. He could see your eyes starting to water as you still refused to look at him.
He cautiously reached over to let his fingers interlace with yours. “Will you please look at me, sweetheart. I’m not going anywhere. You’re not scaring me away. I promise.” He said, softly.
You hesitantly looked over at him. He gave you a soft smile, trying to calm you down. “Finn was a douchebag for telling me, but I’m not going anywhere.” He assured you. You softly squeezed his hand.
He used his other hand to brush a piece of hair behind your ear. “So…you were calling out my name, huh?” Tyler asked you, with a cocky smirk.
Your eyes went wide. You tugged your hand away from his and covered your face with your hands. “Tyler,” you complained, dragging out his name.
He chuckled to himself. “I wasn’t trying to tease you.” He said, holding his hands up in surrender.
You peeked at him through your fingers. “That’s exactly what you’re doing, Owens.” You said, groaning to yourself.
He shook his head. Then, you felt him grab both your hands. His rough calloused skin scratching against your soft hands. He moved your hands away, looking you in the eye.
“I was just offering to make your little fantasies a reality.” He said in a low voice.
You leaped across the car, grabbing the collar of his shirt and kissing him. His hand flew to the back of your neck as he kissed you back.
You could taste the liquor on his lips. The kiss was sloppy and hungry. You’d both wanted this for too long to be patient. His fingers weaved through your hair, holding on tightly.
His other hand grabbed your waist. His fingers caressed the silky material of your dress. His mind could only think about how much softer your skin would be under his touch.
You seemingly read his mind. “Go ahead,” you mumbled against his lips. You could feel his lips curve up into a smirk. He slipped his fingers under your short dress, caressing your upper thigh.
He noticed the goosebumps that were covering your legs. It only encouraged him more. His hand slowly moved higher up your thigh.
You whimpered against the kiss. You felt the familiar aching between your legs. You needed his touch like you needed air. “So needy for me, baby,” he said, cockily.
The pet name sent a shiver rolling down your back. You bucked your hips up against nothing. “Please,” you begged him.
He rubbed his thumb across your clothed heat. A small wet patch had formed in your panties. Another whine came out of you.
He quickly pushed your panties to the side and plunged a finger into your folds. You gasped, pulling out of the kiss. Your eyelids softly fluttered closed.
“Oh, fuck,” you mumbled softly. Tyler peppered kisses to your shoulder as you leaned your head back. Your senses were overwhelmed. There wasn’t a single coherent thought in your head. He curled his finger inside of you, making you buck your hips against his hand.
“You want another, sweetheart? Can you handle that?” Tyler asked you. You furiously nodded your head. He could feel his jeans becoming strained as he watched you writhe under his touch.
He added another finger, stretching you out. Your mouth hung open as you adjusted. Your wetness only allowed Tyler to move his fingers quicker. He quickly moved them in and out, watching as your breath quickened.
Your stomach started to tighten. You reached for anything to sink your nails into. Your hand landed on Tyler’s bicep.
He pressed his thumb into your clit. “Tyler,” his name fell effortlessly from his lips. He quickened his pace. Every breath and moan from you made him go faster.
“Cum for me, baby,” he praised you.
He started rubbing circles around your clit. You whined, helplessly grinding your hips down against his hand. You swore you were seeing stars. “Oh fuck, Tyler, I’m gonna—” you swore, biting down your lip.
“Go ahead. Cum on my fingers.” He instructed. Your orgasm hit you. You clenched around his fingers, riding the high. “Tyler, so good,” you mumbled. Your legs were shaking, and you threw your head back against the headrest. He continued pumping his fingers into you.
“That’s it. There you go.” He softly praised you. Tyler’s fingers slowed down, helping you down from your peak. He brushed your hair out of your face and kissed your lips softly.
He wiped his soaked fingers on his jeans. You softly nipped at his bottom lip. His smirk grew again. “What do you think you’re doing, sweetheart?” He asked you.
Instead of answering him, you climbed across the console into his lap. Tyler pulled out of the kiss to watch you, in shock. His eyes were wide at the sight in front of him.
You were straddling his lap. Your skirt was hiked up to your hips while your cum was running down your thigh. Your makeup was smudged. Your lips were swollen. And you looked tired out from your orgasm.
“Hold on, just a second, baby,” he said, quickly sliding his seat all the way back and leaning the chair as far back as it would go.
As soon as you both had more room, you were back all over each other. Tyler’s hands were possessively holding on your hips. You unbuttoned Tyler’s shirt as you kissed him. Feeling the last button come undone, you raked your nails over his bare chest. Tyler groaned into the kiss. Your touch was magic on him.
“Need you,” he mumbled against your lips. You tugged his shirt off his shoulders and threw it in the back seat.
Tyler leaned back as you reached for the hem of your dress. He watched with a cocky smile as you pulled the dress over your head. He’d just been fingers deep in you, but the sight of you in your bra and panties was enough to make him crazy.
“So fuckin’ beautiful, darling,” he practically moaned. He grabbed the back of your neck and pulled you down to kiss him again. Your hands struggled to undo his belt while he unclasped your bra.
Having Tyler’s hands on you had your skin burning. You felt like your skin was on fire, in the best way. You could sense his desperation. His hands explored your body, not wanting to leave any part untouched.
His hands covered you, helping you undo his belt and unzip his jeans. He quickly tugged his jeans down to his knees.
You pulled out of the kiss to take a breath. Tyler buried his face in between your breasts, leaving sloppy kisses and a trail of saliva. He leaned forward, taking one of your nipples into his mouth.
Your eyes rolled back, grasping onto Tyler’s arms. “Need you, Tyler,” you mumbled.
“All you had to do was ask, baby.” He said, tugging down his boxers. His cock spring out, slapping against his stomach. He watched as you practically drooled over him. He brought you back into the moment as he pulled off your panties.
“You want to do this right here? Or you wanna move into the backseat?” He asked you, smirking at your eager expression.
“Right here,” you said. The words came out rushed as you captured his lips in a kiss. He smirked against your lips. “Hang on, sweetheart. If you’re gonna ride me, you’re gonna need this.” He said, grabbing his cowboy hat from the backseat and plopping it on your head. A bashful smile appeared on your face.
You shifted your weight, holding onto Tyler’s shoulders. “Go ahead, cowgirl.” He encouraged you with a wicked smile.
You slowly sunk yourself down onto his length. A low groan escaped Tyler’s lips at the feeling of you wrapped around him. “Fuck, darling,” he moaned, grabbing at your hips. He helped lift you up and let you plunge back down on his cock.
“Oh, Ty— so good,” you mumbled, rolling your hips back into his.
Tyler took a mental picture of you riding him while wearing his hat. He wanted to remember it forever.
With his assistance, you sped up the pace. You were ramming your hips down against his. With each thrust, you could feel Tyler reaching deeper inside you.
“This what you were thinking about with that other guy? Thinking about wrapping your sweet pussy around my cock. You fit perfect. It’s like you were made for me.” Tyler praised you. His comments went straight to your core. Your legs started to shake.
His name fell from your lips. He bucked his hips up to meet yours halfway. “Need to…f-f-faster,” you stuttered, feeling your muscles begin to tighten.
“Don’t worry, I’ll help ya,” he assured you, grabbing a tight hold on your hips. He slammed you down on his cock.
You could feel him brush up against your g-spot. You clenched your eyes shut, a whimper escaping your lips. “That the spot, sweetheart? Don’t worry. I’ll give it the attention it needs.” He said, flipping your body over so he was on top.
“You did so good, honey. But just let me do the work. You focus on cumming for me.” He instructed you.
He braced his leg against the console and started pounding into you. Your legs began to shake. You wrapped your hands around the headrest, your knuckles turning white.
“I’m almost—” you said, breathlessly. The noises bouncing off the truck walls were almost pornographic. You could hear every thrust. From Tyler’s low groans every time you squeezed around his cock to the sound his cock made as it slipped through your wetness.
His hand flew down to your clit, rubbing small tight circles. “Can’t last much longer, darling,” Tyler moaned. You could tell from his erratic thrusts that he was telling the truth. You vision was starting to go white as the muscles in your abdomen contracted.
“Oh, shit. I’m gonna— oh, fuck, Tyler.” You called out as you came around him. Your walls clenched down around his cock, pushing him over the edge. “Oh, fuck,” he groaned, bucking his hips into yours and he came inside you.
He collapsed against you, slowing his pace and bringing you both down from your highs. His sweaty body pressed against yours.
“So, how’s that compare to what you were imagining?” Tyler asked you, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips.
You gasped for breath. “S-so much better,” you mumbled, breathlessly.
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Let me know if you want to be added to my taglist for all my imagines or for a specific character/fandom!!
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rooksamoris · 5 months ago
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💞 — 𝐋𝐔𝐍𝐂𝐇 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊𝐒.
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💞 — in which professor divus crewel is down bad for his spouse.
💞 — divus crewel x reader
💞 — warnings: none really, just fluff and ace and deuce being ace and deuce.
💞 — around 700 words!! not very long, but yk it came to me when i should have been writing my essay (due tomorrow) since that card came out. ive been hella offline, my cousin had a malwi (yemeni bridal party) yesterday, and the wedding is tomorrow, and my other cousin is in the process of having engagement parties all throughout july--hope you enjoy!
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“No way you get bitches,” 
“What was that, Trappola?” Crewel shot a glare at his student who was staring at the picture on his desk.
The picture was of him and his spouse, looking very happy. He looked relaxed in the picture, his arm draped around you while you held his face in your hands and kissed his cheek. The best part was that you were dressed in one of his designs, looking ever so elegant in the fur shawl over your shoulders.
Ace stiffened up and was sent a concerned glance from Deuce, “Uhm, nothing… sir,” he quickly corrected himself.
He could not help it—all the time he spent in Professor Crewel’s class was filled with a certain strictness that he did not think anyone would find appealing. The redhead glanced at the picture again, before back at his professor.
Deuce was sweating, praying to whatever was in the sky that he would not get caught up in whatever trouble Ace would be in. He almost wanted to shake some sense in his dormmate.
Crewel drew the silence out, just for the sake of intimidating his students a little longer before his brows softened. He would not do anything further wreck his mood, not when the love of his life would come over and share lunch with him. He sighed, raising a red gloved hand to pinch the bridge of his nose, “I’ll let it slide this once, pup.”
The cyan-eyed student visibly slumped in relief.
He handed each of them their corrected worksheets. They both had detailed notes written in the margins on what they could do to improve. He pointed out how Ace could use his skills in Magic Analysis and apply them to Alchemy, and gave Deuce examples that could make more sense to him. He was a strict professor, but that did not mean he was a bad professor. He knew his rowdier dogs could improve—he expected them to. He laid out the resources, they just had to use them.
“Thank you, professor!” exclaimed Deuce, bowing his head in respect as he held the page to his chest. Deep down, he appreciated his professor's willingness to correct his work so thoroughly.
Ace nodded, as if sharing the thanks with Deuce, before following his classmate out.
Things stayed quiet before you burst through the doors, carrying lunch bags with you, wearing that smile he loved so much. Your clothes were a bit of a mess, but when were they not? You were always running about and doing something.
Crewel stood from his seat, a softer grin on his face as he stepped forward, his arms reaching out to adjust your outfit. Gentle hands tugged at the collar and fixed your mixed-up buttons, “Now, I wonder what circus you just returned from,”
You laughed and leaned into his touch, “Just the kitchen, nothing too crazy, Divus. I made raisin butter and homemade bread,” you told him, excitedly.
His thumb brushed over some flour left on your cheek, “I can see that much,” he muttered before he moved to your side and slid his hand down to the small of your back, “Come sit,” he said, guiding you to the seat across from his desk.
“You saved me from another lunch spent playing chess with Mozus,”
“Oh, come on. You act like spending time with him is a chore,” you replied, reaching into the bags to set the food on the desk for you guys to share.
He carefully moved his things out of the way, before taking his seat as elegantly as ever, “It’s only a chore when he spends thirty minutes deciding on his next move.”
You rolled your eyes playfully, “One day you’ll be just as old and spending thirty minutes buttoning up your vest. When that happens, I’ll remind you of this conversation.”
He let out a little laugh at that. Your joke just affirmed what he always knew, you would be with him forever, even when white became the natural color of his hair, even once his students were visiting him as adults with their own lives, and thanking him for his harshness. He let out a breath of contentment, before carefully cutting the bread you made for him, “How was work, my love?”
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chateaaa · 5 months ago
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☆ What dating the blue lock characters feels like (pt 2)
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Dating Sae Itoshi includes matching earrings, having your initial dangling in his dominant leg (so every time he scores he dedicates the goals to you), having you in the back of his phone, being mean to everyone but you, buying you everything you want, giving you his password to all his socials, buying you flowers every week, slow dancing in the rain, watching hello kitty with you, kissing you on the back of your hand <3
Dating Shidou Ryusui includes bear hugs!!, slapping your ass every time he gets a chance, biting you randomly, love hate relationship, "shut up" x "make me", would try to be romantic (it does not work), would always expect you watching his games, looking at you in the crowd if he scores a goal, making boys near you cry because he dosnt want them to steal you away from him
Dating Otoya Eita includes kissing you on the neck, painting each other's nails in the color of black, wearing a pink scrunchie you gave him as a joke he now won't remove it from his arm, giving you his hoodie, acts of service, only wearing this specific perfume when you guys meet, pocky game (he would purposely lose)
Dating Tabito Karasu includes flirting with you in front of your friends, matching lego heart keychain, giving you cute random things and saying "my chick number 7 gave this to me, i don't need it so you can have it" that's a lie, he spended 3 days deciding what to give you, carrying you like a sack around, matching sneakers
Dating Alexis Ness includes worshipping you like a goddess, loving every single part of you, carrying an extra ponytail for you, buying you snacks, being very possessive, always wanting to wear matching clothes, words of affirmation and physical touch!!, telling his teamates about how good and kind you are, literally making you experience any kind of dates ex: beach dates, museum dates, stargazing dates, always wanting to touch any part of your body; arms, cheeks, hands
Dating Hiori Yo includes arcade dates!!, winning you stuff toys in claw machines, gaming dates, photobooth dates, physical touch and quality time!!, cuddling while raining, playing games even if your horrible, the beds in minecraft being side by side, carrying you in literally any game, sending you spotify lyrics that he thinks relates to your relationship with him, watching netflix together during summer vacation
Dating Noel Noa includes waking up during weekends with him serving you breakfast in bed, carrying you around like a teddy, all love language, gifting you extravagant gifts everyday, leaving you colorful sticky notes in the counter everyday with daily reminders such as "don't forget to drink water" or "i'm going home late, you should sleep early today"
Dating Ikki Nikko includes only letting you touch his hair, cafe dates, letting you have his drink if you like it more, gifting you a giant teddy on your birthday, would always update you through chat, sending you spotify playlists, handwritten letters, sending memes to eachother, dreaming about being married and adopting 5 cats
Dating Yukimiya Kenyu includes neck kisses!, ranting about all his problems to you at 3 am while cuddling, taking pictures of you every time you go out, his wallpaper being you (he changes his wallpaper every week), just because flowers, photographer x model, always having your favorite food in his bag
Dating Charles Chevalier includes painting each other's nails with the eye color of each other, him only listening to you, sunshine x grumpy, always asking for headpats, booping your nose, watching disney every night before going to bed, expecting you to feed him every time you go out
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idk guys kasasu and otoya feels ooc, I THINK IT'S VERY HARD TO WRITE ABOUT THEM SINCE I FEEL LIKE THEY'RE RED FLAGS AND I REALLY DON'T KNOW ABOUT THEIR PERSONALITY THAT MUCH..... (sorry karasu and otoya fans 😔😔) but anw hope you all still like it ☝🏻🤓
btw PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE SUGGEST ANYTHING TO WRITE IM HAVING WRITERS BLOCK LOL
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