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necrotic-nephilim · 8 months ago

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do you ship helena bertinelli with anyone? if yes, then which characters and why? what's your favorite helena ship? do you have any helena rarepairs? (i know you've talked about helena/steph and you're so right about it, it's a very interesting ship)

!!!! i have so many ships for my best girl ever yes oh my god thank you for asking.

my top pairing is probably Vic Sage/the Question. Vic is the basic answer, but man. i love them so much. no couple has matched each other's freak like that have. Justice League Unlimited is a great adaptation of Helena in general, but it also did a great adaptation of Helena and Vic's relationship. how he just dedicates himself to helping her with no expected return, but also wants to make sure she doesn't go too far in a hunt for vengeance that never ends for her. i think a lot of characters often want to change Helena or expect things out of her for their own needs, like the Batfam and the BoP. but Vic is one of the few people who just wants her to be better for her own good. when he tries to stop her from killing it's not because of his morals, it's because he doesn't want this crusade to consume her. and i just. man i think about them a lot. Helena rlly likes weird little men who give themselves wholly to her.

Zinda Blake/Lady Blackhawk is also a top ship for me. tbh i just like Zinda. but i do love how Helena and Zinda interact, being the more rough and tumble members of the BoP. they're both outsiders, in different ways. Helena is an outsider of the Batfam and Zinda is literally from a different time and an outsider to the current world. their friendship is so genuine and i think if Babs and Dinah can have. whatever homoerotic nonsense going on during BoP, then Zinda and Helena deserve some homoerotic nonsense too. as a treat.

if we're willing to count New-52 Helena, then i enjoy Helena/Dick/Tiger. i think Helena and Dick being a past relationship is really important in pre-Flashpoint for Helena's development, though i don't ship them as a serious couple beyond a fling. but in the New-52, i think this throuple be fun. Helena and Tiger respect each other as two very driven, no-nonsense agents and then well. they both clearly have some kind of thing for Dick. so it's fun finding the balance of how they could all work together romantically.

and ofc. it's a crime to mention Helena ships and not mention Renee Montoya/the Question. every time they interact it's really fucking gay. it's so gay that Kate Kane, Renee's own ex, assumed Helena and Renee were gay. i cannot be convinced against this ship. i genuinely think this ship should be canon. i mean. DC did tease us with this moment from an alternate universe and it's lived rent for me since. fucking criminal for us to only get one panel of what we could have if DC let Helena be a fruit in the main universe. being in love with Helena Bertinelli should be a right of passage for the Question mantle, i personally believe. if you asked me like. genuinely who i want to see Helena date in the current comics, Renee is my top pick. (i would say Vic but he's fucking dead and the New-52 butchered him so rip my mans-)

lois lane (2019) #10

besides those ships, just about every ship for Helena probably falls into the category of rarepair. like you said i've talked about my love for Helena/Steph before bc god. i think it should be a thing more people ship. once i finish the fic i'm writing about them i will convince others to like it.

i also think Helena/Cass could be fun. in a *lot* of ways Helena and Cass are narrative parallels to each other. Helena was a victim of her family being murdered at about the same age Cass was forced to be a murderer. Helena grows up to believe in lethal justice because of this, and Cass grows up to be staunchly against it. Cass' Batgirl suit was made *by* Helena. they both want to be protectors of the most vulnerable people. they balance each other out in a lot of ways and i think they should kiss about it.

also probably a rarepair, i think Helena/Lady Shiva is fun. their fight during Birds of Prey (2010) had... questionable moments for Helena's characterization, but i do love so much that Helena knocks Shiva off her feet and gains a deep respect from Shiva. like. Shiva gives her a nickname and shows her admiration. i would like to see fanfic where Shiva continues to be weirdly admirable of Helena and bothering her non-stop. they could be a fun fucked up toxic yuri moment. this is just. so gay to me.

birds of prey (2010) #6

my most rare Helena pair would probably be Helena Wayne, actually. but specifically Helena Wayne of JSA (2022). ever since, for some reason, it was made canon that the current Helena Wayne was named after Helena Bertinelli and took the name Huntress to honor her i *cannot* stop thinking about them meeting. because in-universe it makes *no* fucking sense for Bruce to name his kid after *Helena Bertinelli*, someone he's regularly at odds with and doesn't like. it's clearly an awkward explanation to try to make the whole two Huntress situation make sense. (it's almost as bad as Helena Wayne in the New-52 using Helena Bertinelli as an alias.) but because it's such an odd choice, i do think it could be fun for Helena Wayne, when she's back in time to see Bruce, to find Helena Bertinelli to get to know the woman she was named after and Helena Bertinelli just being. baffled by the idea of *Batman* naming his kid after her. it could be a fun fucked up moment.

my other super rarepair is Kara Zor-L/Power Girl. they had like. one meaningful interaction of JSA Classified and it's been PLAGUING me. something about when Power Girl doesn't remember her past and she's seeking a friend, she instinctively goes to find Huntress? but it's wrong bc this isn't *her* Huntress and neither of them understand why Power Girl would seek Helena out? god it's so good. i'm always a big fan of ships where one person in the ship is *so* obviously using the other person as a replacement for someone they lost and they both know it. it's such a doomed angsty thing where you could play with Helena actually really liking Kara, but knowing that she's just a replacement for Kara's Helena Wayne. good fucked up shit man.

and lastly: i really ship her with Dawn Granger/Dove. there's no canon basis for this, they didn't have a ton of interactions even when they were both on the BoP. but there's a very kind innocence to Dawn that contrasts Helena's violence really well. and i do love a ship with a corruption kink vibe to it. let Helena corrupt Dawn. i could write such fucked up porn about these two.

#necrotic answerings #helena bertinelli #idk the ship names for most of these ships so idk how to tag them #most of them are too rare to have ship names. tragic.#anyway i ship her with so many ppl #i do ship her with tim as well but i didn't mention him just bc i default to viewing them platonically.#also think babs is a valid ship for her. but in a hatefucking way.#i prefer their relationship when they can't stand each other it's more fun.#but yeah the realistic “i want to see this in canon” options are vic and renee #and then the rest are “i'm alone in this ship but i see potential” rarepairs #esp lady shiva. like i'm *really* tempted to write that fic.#i just need to read more comics with shiva.#actually the most fucked up option: cass/helena/shiva incestual threesome.#that has potential. but i don't think anyone shares my vision #also i've seen posts arguing for helena/jason #and while. longterm i disagree. i do think them sleeping together is on the table.#but largely ppl always bringing him up when talking about her sours me to that ship. so eh.#also i would ship helena/bruce in a fucked up way if that one batman: the brave & the bold episode didn't piss me off so bad #justice league unlimited is the *only* good adaptation of helena i'm so serious.#everything else eats ass with her. esp the arrowverse.#and the birds of prey movie.#but jlu does good by her and if you just watch that show you do have a solid grasp of her character #it adapts her story into a child-friendly medium in what i think is the best way it could've #anywhore thank you for this ask <3 #you actually sent this when something rlly shitty happened so it was a nice little distraction from life to think about my answer #OH WAIT YOU KNOW WHO I FORGOT.#kate spencer. manhunter. I ship her with helena too.#lethal female vigilantes unite.#BRO those two deserve a teamup mini or something. they'd click so well.#dc hire me to write a huntress/manhunter mini series i promise i won't make them gay (my fingers are crossed)

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reignoctis · 1 day ago

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the empress looks absolutely miserable and luna hates it. was this what her sister intended for the young mare? to be sentenced to such a life because of some supposed destiny? it wasn't fair and it was unacceptable. equestria needed harmony to function - she doesn't want to find out what happens if that harmony is broken again because one of the nation's leaders can't be happy. the princess of friendship with no friends might as well be a pegasus with no wings.

that has to change. maybe once they finally put celestia to rest properly, twilight could move on and find that spark again. luna downs a carafe of coffee, effectively pushing off sleep for a few more hours. the sun warms her back, seeping into her feathers, wrapping around her in so familiar a grasp her throat tightens.

"well that just won't do," she states bluntly. no room for arguing. luna might still struggle socially after all these years, moreso with loss, but surely she could figure out some way to get twilight that space to relax. "this weekend-" ears pin and feathers fluff at horrid sound. hm. perhaps they should postpone working on celestia's memorial so the poor purple mare could get some rest. before something was broken. luna has to force her jaw to unclench before she can continue. "this weekend, you will go to ponyville. you will leave all your duties to me. invite cadance should you wish."

sea green eyes fix on the younger as if they spoke of battle plans not days off. "but you will go see your friends. i can teach you how to disguise yourself if you don't want to be noticed. or there are spells to make others look over you as though you weren't even there." celestia and her had matching personas, of course. sunny and starry skies when they wanted to go out without crowns.

her voice softens. "they miss you. i don't need to look into their dreams to see that." ponies lives were so brief so short who knew how long twilight's friends had. "my sister did not send you there so you could end up not having any friends at all. we are social creatures regardless of rank. let ponies see you as you are. they should know you up close. the more you walk among them, the more they see you as just a mare. not a princess or an empress. a friend."

she suddenly smiles and shoves three more pancakes in her mouth, cheeks stuffed until she can chew enough to swallow. "do you remember when you taught me about fun? you took off the mask of nightmare so i could be seen. ponyville forgot who i was when i showed them i was just like them. i like games and playing pranks and eating popcorn."

a poor icon she is. a bad example. dark hoof props up her chin to keep those words safe in her mouth. "maybe don't think of it as a role? you are magic. you are friendship. if you don't overthink it too much, it might come naturally." luna blinks, head tilting in confusion. clearly she was missing information on pinkie pie. "how would you follow in her hoofsteps? i'm not sure her approach really...fits you. or at least i've never seen you flit about like she does, never knowing the meaning of 'stranger.'"

twilight brushes back her mane with a hoof, the top flattened against her coat, a seemingly permanent mark of where the crown often sat atop her head. not born with a crown... the empress found it was hard to believe she wasn't. her magic engulfs several of the items strewn across the long table, those which sat at her side. she thinks about that phrase as she does so, even if it would be easier to avoid returning to a depressing topic.

the engraving of her cutie mark within the tree of harmony before its destruction, was that not proof that this was a role she was meant to carry? that she was 'born' into?

" i don't really have the option to be casual. to do normal things friends do and let go of the formalities, " twilight vacillated. " play games, take care of pets as a group, watch movies and plays, or maybe even participate in them, or... sit around having a picnic, talking about who knows what. i suppose i yearn for the simple things. " the mare blinks. she clears her throat and pats her chest a few times. " i-i mean, even when i've been given the space to do those things, they haven't lasted very long. the few times cadance has visited ponyville have always ended in us solving some crisis, heh... my time organizing the library alone or in company has been interrupted more times than the books within it. you can only organize a shelf so many times before y— "

twilight winces harshly when her fork drags along the porcelain. she lifts the silverware what seems like a milisecond after it screechs. the scratching of metal on ceramic makes her coat stand on its ends. she quickly flushes. she lifts a pitcher atop the table, drinking from the glass she pours its contents into. after the cold washes away the discomfort and the food from her fork, her tongue travels the inside of her cheek as she ponders how to continue the conversation. her thoughts fight to come back together while the embarassment settles and dissipates.

" well, um, the title of the princess of friendship made it all seem so... professional, " twilight says, lifting up a wing in a sort of salute and putting on her best imitation of a certain family member for the last word. she then shrugs, eyes and wing drooping. " how are you supposed to be a 'friend' as well as a... well, a 'celebrity'? "

she shifts, pulling her tail out from beneath while her hooves make air quotes. her tail brushes across the floor, and then stills. it was much more comfortable this way. her fork wanders across the syrup trails in her plate with a triangle of pastry, and so too do her eyes and thoughts wander. they wander between acknowledging what she's doing, what the queen is doing across from her, how the room looks bathed in shadows of the inside and outside, how the food and the tablecloth is dyed in pink and purple and yellow and blue gleams from the stained glass... and what she said moments prior to her silence.

the empress sighs tiredly, for more reasons than just her lack of sleep. she finishes her drink before she speaks again. " i used to wonder what friendship could be. now, here i am the icon of it. " her magic pushes her more than half-empty plate ahead of her. her hooves cross over eachother on the table edge. her head rests atop them, and her hindlegs kick back and forth in opposite rhythms. " it seems like it would be easier to play my role if i really did follow in pinkie's hoofsteps... maybe i should work on creating some nicknames for the ponies i know..? " twilight felt like bringing out her notepad again, but she wasn't sure where to start if she followed that thought process.

#clippedwingsmuses #FELT

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aparticularbandit · 9 months ago

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Thinking about how Haruhi absolutely screwed over Asakura.

Because like.

Haruhi makes the club. The club goes looking for trouble and finds nothing and also the straws were not in her favor and she didn't get to go looking for trouble with Kyon.

Haruhi gets depressed because nothing has happened in the club in its one week of existence.

Five minutes later, Asakura: Hey. Kyon. Let's play stabby!

One day later, Haruhi: HEY KYON ASAKURA DISAPPEARED YOU AND ME GONNA TEAM UP AND LOOK FOR TROUBLE.

And like. Asakura is stated repeatedly to be the prettiest girl in their class other than maybe Haruhi, and Haruhi can't go after Mikuru because Mikuru's part of her gang.

What I'm saying is Asakura suddenly being stabby is entirely Haruhi's fault.

....

And, as a result, it is highly likely that Yasuke should be concerned.

#musings #dr haruhi crossover #i know what happens with yasuke actually #i've known what happens with him for A WHILE now #but also this is why the rest of melancholy hasn't happened #with haruhi making a new universe and transporting herself there with junko #there are TWO pressures that cause haruhi to do that #one of them is boredom because the brigade is not doing what she thinks it should #(haruhi you had this club for five minutes sorry that sometimes this takes longer give it five to ten business days)#the other is kyon obviously crushing on mikuru more than haruhi #which is really better put as haruhi being insecure about how kyon feels about jer #*her #it's not even wholly mikuru although it's most blatant there #she gets frustrated when he goes off alone with yuki too #and the asakura example abovw #*above #she doesn't have that problem with junko for two reasons:#one - junko doesn't care about anybody else that way (other than yasuke) and so there's rarely a visible threat #(this will come up just not until the endless eight rewrite)#(at least that's where it's planned to start showing up)#(but you can retroactively see it in the sigh rewrite - in point of fact mukuro showing up is a result of it)#two - haruhi hasn't made the connection between ghost girl and junko #(i would argue she DID on some level make the connection between kyon and the guy from three years ago)#(that's where the 'do i know you from somewhere maybe like the past' line comes from)#junko's not officially a love interest consciously in haruhi's head yet #and won't consciously be for a while #haruhi is still chasing down ghost girl #junko has to usurp ghost girl before that part of melancholy can happen #and what happens with yasuke probably won't happen until after that #because junko might have two hands but haruhi is pretty sure they should both be hers thank you very much

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prettiest-thing-in-the-morgue · 1 month ago

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PULL ME IN

summary: due to Bruce distancing himself from reading and seeing other women - batfam has to watch their mom willow away.

For the twenty-five years, Bruce and Name have been married together - Alfred has never seen Name so withdrawn - so detached . He watches every morning how Name's frail body maneuvers around the kitchen making her own breakfast -

God knows how many times he's asked that stubborn woman to allow him to cook for him but she has always refused him with a quiet smile and a wave of hand. He watches her glide around the kitchen- a woman of once poise and grace reduced to her fumbling with simply holding a cereal box.

Alfred could never pin point where it had all went wrong in their marriage - they were both high-school sweethearts- their marriage was beautiful- he'd know because he had honored it himself. To see them so distant aches his heart.

Alfred knows Bruce has a mission - to save Gotham- a mission that seems ever lasting - a mission that had consumed him entirely to the point it took him over . It took away his relationship with his kids and his own wife .

Alfred would always shoot him disapproving looks when he sees Bruce being too flirty with Talia and Selina - he blesses Name's heart for loving Damian all the same like she has with all her other kids but Alfred notices since then she is virtual never in the same place with Bruce.

She no longer goes to galas anymore , no longer makes public appearances - maybe its because Bruce always had a different arm candy every other night. It's gotten so bad that even the kids started realizing this - Damian , upon realizing his birth had broken down in Name's arms one night - pleading with her to love him - that he's sorry for being born.

Alfred remembers Name cradling the young boy in her arms all night and assuring him he's the best thing Bruce ever made and that she would never blame him for Bruce's actions. Since then - the young boy has always stuck to Name - every morning, he'd affectionately hand her daily medicine and would always help her wrap a shawl over her shoulders.

Tim and Bruce began arguing - particularly because Bruce starting leaving the massive work of W.E for Tim to handle- it came to a head one night when Name and Bruce argued for two hours straight. He remembered how raw her voice was when she yelled at Bruce for overworked her poor son - that he's young and deserves to live and experience his teenage years.

Bruce had argued that Tim had wanted this - that this was what being Robin was about. Jason- god knows Jason and Bruce doesn't get along - ever since what happened to Joker but they argue even worse when it boils down to Name .

Jason was a child primarily raised by Name - she taught him to trust and showed him everything he knew - down to ironing his shirt to tying his shoelace - Name was the mother Jason never had and God could damn for all he cares but couldn't stand to watch Bruce treat her like she was an option because she wasn't - not to him or his brothers.

Jason always made it a point to call Bruce out for his own hypocrisy, himself and Damian always teamed up against him, especially when he was being too flirty with Selina or some random eye candy.

" I suggest you back off harlot , my mother might not kill you, but I will " - Damian when Bruce and Selina were flirting together on patrol.

" I don't give a fuck if ma begs me not to put a bullet in your head , the next damn time I see you talking about her like that I won't hesitate to skin you alive " - Jason when he caught some arm candy bragging to her friends how the 'Bruce Wayne' took her out on a date in front of Name.

God if anyone argues more with Bruce in this household was Dick - Dick was their first child and a child whom lost everything and yes Bruce may of made him robin but name made him dick grayson - bless that woman's heart for having to deal with his tantrums and outbursts when he was younger -

But that woman despite not birthing him was his mother - the woman who literally hugged him everynight to go to bed , the same woman who made his suit for prom by hand and also the same woman he goes to for advice and comfort - safe to say when he heard what Bruce was doing - they argued non stop-

" For god sake, Bruce, you're destroying us - you're destroying our family, and you don't even care." - Dick when Bruce had called you useless because you couldn't walk up a stairs anymore.

Someone from the outside might think they're dramatic, but ever since Bruce started distancing himself from Name and going out with God knows who , Name has fallen into a deep depression - a type of depression that ensnared them in their deep claws and deprive them of what little happiness and energy they have left.

Most days , Name sits on a swing outside and just exists- barely eats , barely talks anymore - how can they ? How can one fathom to be happy when their own spouse is out cheating on you with different people and to make matter worse the public condones it - even more so enables him.

Always publishing some new article of which new model or actress can become worthy of being Bruce's wife as if she doesn't exist. Alfred swallows as he watches her tonight - they're sat stiffly in a velvet love seat , a faint smile on her face, Damian is resting his head on their shoulder, showing them his latest art piece while quietly talking about his day.

Behind her, jason embraces her in a backhug , head resting on her head - his hands sometimes play with the loose strands. Tim quietly sits beside her , his hand holding her free hand - now and again he'd squeeze it . Dick is sat next to Damian on the love seats' arm rest as he prepares her nightly medicine.

Even if the public and her own husband loathes her, name still has the love of her kids and Alfred as always. Suddenly, the large oak doors of the living room are pushed open - the vibrant warmth interrupted as Bruce steps inside .

Damian quiets - everyone looking at Bruce except for Name - she has taken it to state at her hands. " It's time for patrol" Bruce says grufly . No one responds but reluctantly leaves Name side , Jason side hugs her one last time before leaving .

" Yeah, whatever you say, geaser," He says as he shoves Bruce out of his way to go to the cave . Damian glares at his father , " Hopefully, things are taken seriously on this patrol " he insinuated- knowing eyes glaring right at his father disapproving.

Bruce ignores them and stares at name, " Make dinner before we leave " he orders before promptly walking away. Name says nothing - too numbed out a long while to even react. Dick and Alfred himself curses him while Tim is glaring at the closing door harshly .

" Ma I'll order us something don't stress yourself " Tim assures her while ordering Uber eats for them on his phone . Name doesn't say anything but sends him a small smile. " I can't believe I raised that boy," Alfred murmurs as he shakes his head in disappointment .

Bruce may not realize it now but it's too late to fix anything - too late to pull his wife back in and live the happy life they once had - its too late to repair their broken family since the glue that's stuck them all together is fading away .

ty for reading, please like + comment + share !!!

pls do not hate a on queens talia & selina they won't do this , theyre too girlboss for bruce anyways

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h1biscusgal · 27 days ago

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The hypnagogic state : how to reach it.

The hypnagogic state is a state where we naturally go into before sleeping, a sweet spot moment before sleeping and still being awake, a state where it is so powerful to be able to shift, get in the void, or basically do anything.

Now it requires NOTHING, it only requires one small thing that might sound tricky.

Staying awake long enough for it to come by on it's own, and actually on average it takes 10-5 mins from each person to enter it aware.

The steps:

Lay flat on your back (not needed, but many results come from laying on the back)

Do. Not. Care, just go with what you usually do to fall asleep, but one thing? You're not falling asleep, you're watching your body fall asleep, that sweet spot where your body is about to fall asleep? That's hypnagogia

Actually don't move, it may give your mind signs you're still not sleeping, now just lay there and try not to sleep while focusing on the blackness behind your eyelids.

You will start seeing flashing images or swirly things or even just flashing lights and imagery, this is the hypnagogia and you managed to reach it in just 10 mins of pretending to be asleep (acc it takes me 4)

Bam, that's the sweet spot, now affirm slowly for the void, or just sense your surroundings for shifting or maybe you can try your shifting method here! This state cannot argue back, you'll be immediately shifting in no time, and slipping in the void is so easy from it.

So really the whole steps is just "lay down, don't move, watch your eyelids, color seen? Hypnagogia reached, method or void procedure done, bam."

I managed to find a post on Reddit on how to keep your body awake, you can try 2 or 3 of them to keep yourself entertained, FULL CREDITS TO THE ONE WHO POSTED IT ON REDDIT (calaie_iscoolio):

"1. Looking in the darkness behind your eyelids

Basically what it says, when you close your eyes, just focus on the darkness until hypnagogic imagery begins to happen i.e. colors, shapes, literally anything that will show. When images begin to show up, do not interact or acknowledge what you are seeing, you can look at it, but don't try to control it and just let the images flow until you feel that the state is induced enough to where it won't disappear because you are "too" awake/aware.

2. "Forearm Up" Method

Another technique that basically helps with people who tend to fall asleep to quickly, basically lay down on your back like usual, lift your hand up in the air where your elbow is resting on your mattress, keep it there and as it slowly falls down that's where you'll begin to fall asleep, it'll drop and basically awake you back up.

I had also seen a shifter mention that they prefer to lay on their stomach and lifting their foot up in the air and basically do the same thing. This technique basically just wakes you back up.

3. Thomas Edison Method

Very similar to the "Forearm Up" Method, basically what Edison had done was he had held a steel ball in his hand, and when he began to fall asleep, the ball will drop and alert Edison awake, another technique to help with people to struggle to stay awake.

4. Imagine Constant Motion

Basically imagining something whether that be an animal or an object constantly moving like a horse galloping, a dogs tail wagging side to side, etc. (Pretty simple, for people who find it much easier to visualize).

5. Tire your body through out the day

During the day, you could do any tasks that would just tire your body out that leads up to your attempt to induce the state, it'll make it much easier for you to get into the state and induce it since your body is already tired enough to relax.

6. Repeating "hypnagogia"

This will mean you have you just repeat the words "hypnagogia" to yourself till you get tired enough and then hypnagogic imagery will eventually appear.

7. Counting

Basically just like regular shifting methods, you could focus on counting up to how much you want to until you begin to get the hypnagogic hallucinations, to keep yourself from falling asleep you could give yourself simple math questions just so it's enough to focus to answer it.

8. Imagining Randomness

Imagine literally anything that isn't related at all, i.e. horse, roof, apple, pen, desk, etc. Visualize and filter through random objects or animals that have no correlation and that will induce the hypnagogic imagery, randomness is key.

9. Focus on breathing

Similar to any shifting method, basically focusing on your breaths is another technique to induce the state. Literally just anything to keep your awareness occupied rather than letting your mind just shut down to go to sleep.

10. Sounds

Listening to anything in your environment, whether that be things happening outside, if it's raining listen to the rain, or if you've got headphones on listen to the music and focus that, keep your focus on the music so you don't fall asleep.

11. "Playing" a song in your head

Not necessarily listening to the song, but imagining the song playing in your head, whether that be your favorite song, if you know how it sounds like, imagine it playing and once you've entered the state, it will naturally play and you'll end up actually hearing the song.

12. Heartbeat

Basically just focus on your heartbeat. Listen to the amount of beats.

These are all the various of techniques you could use, you don't have to stick to one and can basicaally try them out, see which one you feel like works for you and go from there. A tip is also you could pick like 4 or 5 out of these 12 and just filter through the techniques if you can't just stick to one since you get uninterested quickly. (I get bored easily, do I normally do 8, 9, 7 and 4 just so I don't lose interest.)"

Good luck y'all!

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vinnyvamppp · 2 months ago

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To Be Desired PT 2

⭐:ViltrumMark, OmniMark, Hooded Invincible, Masked Mark, HeadCap Invincible (Requested!), Mentions of Invincible. (PART 1 HERE)

Commenter: Can u write some viltrumark n Omni mark. Pleasee. (Special at the end!)

Synopsis: Variants of your childhood best friend spawn across the globe, and you find yourself in the crossfire of their previous lovers. What happens when you experience the parallel pleasure they can offer?

Warnings: Power Struggles, Dom/Sub Dynamics, Morally Grey, Nipple Play, Fingering, Pussy Eating, Overstimulation, Public Sex, Ejaculating Inside, Rough Sex, 69, Car Sex, Switch!Reader, Switch!Invincible Variants, Plot changes for convenience, Matching Freaks, Position Changes, Porn w a Plot, etc.

Invincible Variants x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 6,079

Previously on 'To Be Desired' ... Helping where you could, you began assisting in fighting off the weaklings who figured now was the best time to attack Earth. Micro tears riddled your uniform as you tore through them mercilessly, all through a look of pity. There were days you'd resent this “job” you'd granted yourself, the little recognition and appreciation you'd receive from the public. How selfish of them and you. You wanted an excuse to have this world fair alone, without a need to rebel when no one would notice. As luck would have it, a voice suddenly dawned behind you, his body floating midair and adorned with the appearance of your dearest friend.

ViltruMark

Gazing upon the malignant figure, his jaw ticked ever so slightly at the sight of you. A mangy mutt of a man was within his grasp, its maw bludgeoned with the imprint of his knuckles. The sound of a body hitting the ground beside you was like a heavy, wet slap, followed by a faint whoosh of air being forced from its lungs. It was a sickening thud, like a ripe melon dropped from a great height, and you froze with a sense of unease.

The impact was startling and violent, and for a moment, you forgot about the raging havoc being reaped around you. The suddenness of it all made your heart race—you were almost certain he could hear it—as every instinct shrieked within. Your body language became defensive, his gaze hardening in response.

"I've killed you once, and I'll kill you again," he proclaimed, yet it held little intent. His uniform was a staple of the Viltrumite Empire, its clad symbol emboldened in the sky’s smoke like a false beacon of hope. "Then get it over with. You won't be the first variant who dies tonight." The snarky remark was met with a confident scoff. His padded feet landed in front of you, his eyes absorbing your features as if to reminisce. "I won’t. That was my first mistake," he replied, his fingers finding themselves tangled in your hair.

It was sudden; you couldn't help but grimace at his words. A Viltrumite admitting their mistakes? Unbelievable. That was until his grip suddenly tightened, cocking your head to the side as he whispered in your ear. "I've come to right my wrongs and take you with me." The man's grip was a hold of domination, a vice-like clamp that strangled the last vestiges of hope. It was merciless, like that of a warlord who wielded power with an iron fist. Yet the soothing hand around your waist and the calloused fingertips that scratched against your costume told the story of a starved man.

It wasn’t a debate, nor did you intend to argue, as your annoyance with your reality simmered. "Right your wrongs…?" you questioned, a wicked grin slowly spreading across his face as you two suddenly took flight. Tears bubbled at your waterline from the speed, your fingers clinging to him as you could’ve sworn he nearly melted. You always did talk too much, so he figured he'd show you. The underground vibrations beat against your eardrums as he cradled you. Your gaze was fixed upon a newly formed crater within the valley, only destroyed rubble offering privacy. "We’ll do it here. You’ll be my new beloved and will give me children."

His fingers traced down your abdomen as they tore through the fabric, gooseflesh rising from the exposure. It was a depressing past, really—having to murder you in cold blood so soon due to his agenda—but not this time. You would stay ignorant of his past, and he would provide it, given your indulgence.

His hands grasped the spandex material of your suit, prying it open as his lips began their pleasurable assault on your neck. The wet warmth of his tongue tickled your skin as he harshly nipped the welcoming flesh. Your faint pulse beneath it enticed him to experience what he had yet to. So alive and welcoming.

Head resting against the soft soil, his hardened cock imprinted beneath the loincloth. His body did little to hide his excitement, though his expression remained cold. Once the clothing was peeled from your body, his lips continued their journey south, pausing to lavish attention on your breasts. He took one nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue erratically around the hardened peak while his hand kneaded and caressed the other.

You moaned at the sensations, your hands instinctively tangling in his hair as his hips ground against your clothed cunt. He didn’t stop. He worshiped your breasts until you were writhing beneath him, the skin tender and reddened from his teeth. As he traveled lower, you could feel his warm breath on your most intimate area, his pre-cum now staining the cloth of both his and your costume. Just before his lips could reach your sex, he pulled away in satisfaction. All mild waves of pleasure were ripped from you, and a feeling of annoyance bubbled within.

Pressing back against him, your eyes pleaded seductively, a hand resting against his chest. "It’s not fun when it's just me; let me please you," you muttered, watching as the faintest smirk graced his lips. He sat on his knees as you shuffled yourself forward, hands eagerly tugging at his clothing. His costume splintered as it fell from his form, your mouth practically watering at the sight of his swollen cock eagerly awaiting your touch. You leaned in, inhaling deeply and savoring his musky scent. You ran your tongue along the underside of his veins, from the base to the tip, feeling it twitch against your lips. He shivered.

You circled the head with your tongue, dipping into the slit to taste his essence before taking him into your mouth. Instantly, he sucked in a deep breath through gritted teeth. The man was more sensitive than expected. As your throat relaxed and another inch slid inside, the soft lining of your esophagus welcomed him so fruitfully that his eyelids began to twitch. His pride had failed to forewarn him, and his temperament began to crumble.

As his hips bucked forward, you gagged, only to see a placid grin etched onto his face as his nose crinkled with restraint. He groaned loudly with every bob of your throat, his dick twitching with each contact. Suddenly, his hand gripped your hair, pulling you back. "Enough," he muttered, his voice carrying enough command to make you pause.

Before you could process it, you were flipped onto your hands and knees, panties being lowered as his eyes devoured the sight of your pussy. "You’re soaked… I would’ve fucked you sooner if I knew you’d be so willing." The mumble seemed more to himself than to you. His tip glided down the skin of your folds, the squelching sound causing his grip to tighten as he pushed your head into the ground. Just as he pressed himself inside, the quietest whimper slipped.

Your eyes met his with a smug expression; he returned it as a warning before your velvety walls swallowed him whole. He sighed, like a man being gifted after a long day of work. He didn’t give you time to adjust, immediately pulling out and setting a brutal pace, pounding into you with a force that rocked your entire body. Each thrust pushed you forward, your hands scrabbling for purchase in the burrow of grass. His balls slapped against your clit with every stroke, sending sparks of pleasure through you.

One of his hands left your hip, wrapping around your hair and pulling your head back, forcing you to arch your spine. He fucked almost with a hatred. With every stroke, your body bounced forward, and you could swear you heard your vertebrae popping. Does he not know what gentle is?! No! He’s a Viltrumite, born and raised!

Unbeknownst to you, the dual stimulation of his balls slapping against your skin and the soft twitching of your pussy had him hunched over. He began to chase his own release, loud growls echoing in your ears as you could barely formulate sound. His free hand rested against your ass, enjoying its recoil as a pathetic whine scratched his throat. He was hellbent on burying himself within you, each thrust deepening with the swivel of his hips. His muscles tightened as his jaw clenched, heavy pants echoing between groans. It was beginning to sound needy, a rough greed that consumed him.

Your moans were muffled, his hearing sharp enough to catch every one, his tactics shifting subtly to bring you the utmost pleasure. God, why did he kill you? He could barely remember as his brain began to fizzle out from the pleasure. “Mphm… Mark… can’t breathe,” you muttered, his eyes finally snapping into focus. In a last-ditch effort, he tugged you back, ripping a hiss from you as your spine curved. Your back rested against his chest, and although the sex was rough, this was a moment of gentleness. “Aah—ugh, mm, fuck, I’m going to fill you,” he whispered, sheathing himself one final time as he came.

You two remained still as his stamina recovered; he pressed a chaste kiss against your lips, both of your suits ruined. No matter, he couldn't care less about flying into space naked. It was short-lived as he abruptly readied himself from a voice buzzing within his ear; you remained seated in absolute awe. “How long can you hold your breath?” he asked, a plan to return home brewing.

OmniMark

His gaze remained fixed on you, expression unimpressed as he observed. You had just defeated another swarm of enemies, their blood coating the streets. As you stumbled toward him, your breath came out in labored gasps, and your vision blurred, making it hard to focus on his figure. Mark—or rather, this mysterious figure in similar fashion—seemed to be studying you intently, his eyes piercing through your facade.

The sound of his cape billowing finally caught your attention. Roving over his figure, you observed his costume. A dried patch of blood littered his hand, pink lint from the fabric clinging to it. It resembled Omni-Man's and only struck you with confusion as your mind rang from your probable concussion. "Hey, are these giving you any trouble?" he asked, his body idly bobbing midair as he awaited an answer.

"Who are you, really? If you're Mark, why are you dressed like... well, like him?" You gestured to his costume, a near-perfect replica of Omni-Man's, complete with the red and white color scheme, only missing the distinctive 'O' emblem. He sighed, almost regretfully, as a realization seemed to dawn upon you. Omni-Man in his world was dead; just why did I have to run into this one?! He glided toward you with a strangely disturbing grace.

"I've come to defend you. There are many of us gathering over Chicago." Your question was swatted away like a fly as he continued. His response made you drop your guard, albeit naively, since there was no reason to trust him. He landed in front of you, dark goggles showing your reflection as he contemplated. "Why? What happened to me in your dimension?" you inquired.

He replied with the slightest look of pity and weariness. "She… was like a pet. Served her purpose and got in the way after I killed my father." His words made your heart drop. "I've been looking for you… for a new pet. So, understand me this time, and we can conquer together." The tone of his words was low, almost careful, like it somehow softened the demeaning blow. Every word was woven in silk, but underneath lay a quiet demand. His fingers gently wrapped around yours, his gloved thumbs ghosting over your knuckles.

Truthfully, he hated his dimension's version of you. Such a nuisance, but you were already proving to be more favorable. A glimpse into what you could've been.

"But you have more to offer than she did. She had no powers, no abilities… but she was cute while it lasted." A sense of sadness lingered in his voice as his eyes focused behind you, on the destruction your battle had caused.

"Fine, I'll let you protect me," you said, releasing his fingers.

"It’d be best if we stayed together at all times," he replied.

"I don’t think I could stomach being around you." It was a petty jab, spit with unintentional venom.

"I could change that," he quipped with the cockiness of his father, his palm outstretched to you.

Just how did you allow yourself to be swept away like this? Yes, the Mark you knew was the son of Omni-Man with morals; this one went against every principle you had when becoming a hero. Like father, like son. His words were sensitive, meticulously put together to string you along—not that you cared now, not with his fingers buried deep inside your cunt.

Somewhere along the way, he had flown you to Paris like some fancy vacation. The leveled city burned brightly, the embers painting your skin in a dewy orange that made you look so divine. The Eiffel Tower stood tall, almost as a harbinger of justice, and here you were, on the structure, being fingered by him. You let out a sharp cry as he started to stroke, his digits gliding through your wetness with ease. The very sight of your cunt had him in a hedonistic trance, his thumb slotting over your clit. He teased and circled, applying just the right amount of pressure to have your hips bucking beneath him. His pace quickened ever so slightly, reveling in the ridges of your pussy that he anticipated to hug him so snugly.

"You like that, don't you? You like it when I touch you like this?" he purred, watching as your face scrunched in pleasure. It wasn't like he needed a response; seeing your reaction was enough. Your abs began to tighten as your orgasm built, and just as your body lurched forward, his hands pulled away, leaving you clenching around air.

"You said that would be it," you whispered, watching as he smiled faintly, almost pleading. "I know, but it would be better this way… I can't monitor with just my fingers." He excused himself, and your eyes rolled sarcastically. "Last thing." It was a harsh spat that crawled from your throat and into his ear. "Last thing," he agreed—when you both knew he was the type to say that while fucking you senseless for the tenth time.

Against the cold metal, he spread your legs wide, his free hand freeing his weeping cock from its confinement. It's been punished enough for now. Clothes were shed quickly, eagerly, until you were both naked and pressed together, skin against skin. He hovered over you, his eyes roaming your exposed body hungrily. Circling his tip around your entrance, he finally pushed in, jaw clenching with a shaky exhale.

His hips began to build into a relentless pace, your bouncing legs wrapping firmly around him to pull him in deeper. He was becoming lost within you—quite literally—as your pussy swallowed him balls deep. No wonder his father remained active with Debbie; this was fucking godsent to him. Perhaps his words from earlier were no longer manipulation but the truth. He would vow to know you on a personal level later.

Moans of pleasure from you both echoed. He was shameless about his noise, enjoying the sound of skin slapping in the air. You could have sworn his particularly deep thrusts sent the tower shaking. Sweat formed on his brow as he concentrated, ab muscles flexing as he withheld his orgasm. Mark loved it here. He would do anything not to pull out. His body began to tremble with restraint, nearly convulsing with the overarching effort. Your bodies shifted with each powerful thrust. Lost in your own pleasure, you barely noticed your head now dangling from the structure.

His attempt at being romantic after destroying a city was dreadful. "Mark…!! Ah! I'm gonna fall, fuck—!" you wearily shouted, and he grimaced slightly, his fingers shoving themselves into your mouth to simulate sucking his cock as he watched you gag on them. "You know better… swearing doesn’t make you cool." He stated it so casually, as if he weren’t balls-deep inside you.

Flying you both into the air, his hands gripped your ass, fucking himself into you. His thrusts grew erratic, his whimpers barely contained. It was obvious—his toes curled in his shoes, his feet flexed, his eyes rolled back into his skull, the veins in his neck prominent. Clasping his chin, you focused his attention on you as your insides nearly squeezed him dry. It was your minute revenge. "T-Take what you… what you want." His lips were caught between his teeth. "I wo… won't stop you."

The words were weak, both of you heaving, breath fanning against each other's faces. Wrapping your legs tighter around him, and with bated breaths, he buried himself inside you, his cock pulsing as he came with a shout. Your fingers dug into his shoulders as he hissed, unable to stop himself. After realizing what he had done, he ironically cursed under his breath.

"S… shit, I should’ve come in your mouth; it would’ve been better," he muttered, disappointed in himself. Wrapping your bare body within his cape, he gingerly kissed you with praise. His lips parted, as if to utter something sentimental, his gaze hardening. Suddenly, he observed heroes gathering within France to save the people. A grimace enveloped his face. He had enough decency to place you securely at your apartment before taking off. HeadCap Mark

“Oh…? And who do we have here?” he asked rhetorically, one hand resting at his side. His overzealous grin gleamed beneath the obscurity of his features. Not to mention… was he bald? His appearance was a far cry from his better counterpart. You kept raking over every detail, unsure what unsettled you more.

“I… I don’t want to fight you. You look like my friend… I couldn’t,” you replied timidly, tension stunning your body. He landed without a sound, the silence eerie—like a grinning cat toying with its prey.

There was dried blood riddled through his costume, his demeanor confident as he strutted toward you with his head held high. You were awfully perturbed, not noticing him already in front of you. “Well, this is gonna be fun,” he chirped as he gazed expectantly at you, his amusement only growing. “You know how hard it was to find you? Your friend's bug brother straightened me out on my way here.” A series of sharp, satisfying cracks from his spine echoed through your ears, each pop releasing tension like bubble wrap as they twisted. His octave dropped a notch as he leaned in.

“Now it's time to straighten you out.” The words were of insincere politeness, their meaning striking you upside the head. His fingers curled around your neck as he guided you backward. The cold metal of a now disheveled and crumpled car met your back. “Ah ah ah, don’t even think about it,” he whispered, your ear tingling from its warmth, your fingers relaxed at your side.

The smile on his face was almost sweet as you complied, only begrudgingly allowing his touch. “Then move before I change my mind.” You snorted in response. It was scandalous; you’d never admit that the hand around your neck nearly made you weak. Just how could you reject a man so desperate to have you? He wasn’t going to deny you either; in fact, he felt almost obligated to show you he deserved this.

He shoved you roughly against the hood of the car, his fingers tracing the length of your curves. The loud creak of the vehicle settling, the sputtering electricity of nearby landline wires, and the open air of dust filling your lungs made you feel truly exposed. Even without the removal of clothing. His tongue flicked over his lips, a brief, deliberate motion—like a cat after cream. The elastic fabric of his costume fell down his muscled legs, his hands eager as they jutted forward. It was rushed—he stripped the latex from your body with the urgency of a man digging for gold.

Only then, when he saw the pretty lace covering such delicate areas, did an audible groan of delight scratch his throat. “Pretty,” he teased, his hands reaching into his boxers as they clung to his thighs. His dick was flushed a pale pink, longer than it was girthy, as bulging veins pathed their way to his tip. “Pretty,” you mimicked, legs spreading as he closed in like a moth to a flame. He left your bra and panties on, enjoying the sight too much to tear them off. Instead, he pulled the fabric aside to watch your tits bounce, your pussy lips already weeping.

His tip parted you like a river, his head hanging back as he bottomed out. Your walls fluttered to accommodate his length; if he wanted to, he could kiss your cervix. Your legs crossed over his shoulder, and his hips reared back before driving into you. Each thrust pushed you further up the car's hood, your breasts bouncing with the force of his movements.

Your hands reached to clasp at anything behind you, only to find a shattered windshield to dig your fingertips into. He couldn’t help but chuckle to himself as he watched you bounce on his cock; it was something deserving of a painting. His head turned, tongue slithering across the soles of your feet in a gesture of worship. As much as he didn't care about this world, in this moment, he was determined to make you feel like a goddess. His pace quickened, each stroke pushing you closer to the edge of ecstasy.

The movements were entirely guided by lust; broken chuckles bubbled from his throat as moan after moan was ripped from him. Your eyes nearly lost focus, and every stroke caused a slight bulge to imprint in your lower abdomen. Your moans encouraged him—urged him to go deeper, to claim you completely. “So… so much is d-different about this world, but this… t-this was made for me.” His lips grimaced as his hips purged through the trembles riddling his body. The car creaked as it rocked violently, his fluid motion throwing you against him in time with his thrusts.

The street fills with the unfiltered sounds of your moans and the slap of skin against skin. You could feel your throat becoming raw; he was practically silenced, communicating with the tightening of your cunt and its impending orgasm.

Propping yourself onto your hands, you leaned back slightly, one leg gingerly switching to his other shoulder, giving him a full view of how you drank him in. His thumb rolled tight circles around your clit, watching as your hole puckered so vigorously around him.

A ring of your juices—mixed with what he couldn’t tell was pre-cum or cum—sputtered against his pelvis. The sight was enough to tip him over the edge. “Come… all over my cock—mmm—like the good l-little ssslut you are!” he groaned, eyes darting between your folds and your eyes as he inhaled your intoxicating scent.

As he thrust into you with increasing fervor, you felt your body begin to tense, your walls clenching around him as your orgasm approached. He seemed to sense it, his movements becoming more erratic as he chased his own release.

You cried out, fingernails scraping against the car's metal; his jaw clenched wearily as his knees grew weak. A grin etched across his face once more, eyebrows knitting upward as he sighed shakily. With frantic pacing, he waited until his eyes nearly crossed before pulling out and ejaculating on your stomach.

You were winded, arms giving out as you rested against the car; he stared at you, unnaturally tired himself. But as he watched your juices bubble around your entrance, a new energy suddenly surged to his cock. “W-What do you think you’re doing?” he asked, stroking himself with a strangled whimper. “Mmm, I plan on using every inch of this car while I’m here.” Hooded Invincible

The momentary silence was deafening; the veiled mask drifted ever so slightly to show the grin lurking beneath. His costume had blood leaking down the front; the amount would suggest he’d been bested, yet he stood defiant and cocky before you. Just how powerful was he to remain standing? As you readied yourself for another battle, a sigh leaving your lips, his hands suddenly bound together over his head before slamming his full weight onto the concrete road. The rubble cracked beneath your feet, and a strong gust of wind slid you back. It wasn’t nearly as strong as anticipated. He was holding back.

“You won't be enough. You’re not even a fraction of my power!” He enunciated every other word, making the insult feel a little more scathing. “No wonder you get jumped so often, you fucking asshole,” you chided with annoyance. The dull ache in his head was the last thing he registered; the blow landed with a sickening thud, its crack making him stumble back slightly. “Oh, fuck off.” His return strike was swift, a flash of movement followed by a grunt of pain.

You nearly crumpled, the floor rushing to meet you before you regained stability. He was quick to compliment, almost too eager. “Okay… I’ll admit, you’re stronger than I thought.” The feeling of his hands cupping around your wrist, dried blood flaking from his palm. “That’s not why I’m here though,” he finished, his yellow-tinted goggles reflecting off the sunlight, a faint glimpse of his eyes meeting yours.

Just why did they have to have the warmth of your friend's? This was making it difficult to hate him. “Not interested,” you deadpanned, arms tugging within his grasp. He sucked his teeth with an exasperated sigh. “I don’t remember you being this fucking mouthy.” His head cocked slightly to view your expression change like his personal performance. “Wrong dimension; I’m not her.” Your words made him pause as that grin made its Broadway appearance. “Nah, you’re better; I love it when my girls are a bitch.” He taunted, your eyes searching for an escape route as you mentally dismissed him. “C’mon, give me a chance.” The words dripped from his lips, less of a plea and more of a certainty.

You couldn’t deny he had certainly piqued your interest in more ways than one. Suddenly, a pair of calloused fingertips ran a strip down the center of your costume, the fabric outlining a faint camel toe. His fingers pressed against the indent of your pussy lips, a desired dampness nearly causing him to groan. “Oh, you’re fucked,” he said with mocking restraint. In almost an instant, you were dragged into an alleyway and, with the weight of a feather, flipped upside down. “Put me down! What are you doing?!” you grit out, but the words lacked conviction, lost in the echo of his ragged breath.

He ignored your plea, fingers now deftly parting your swollen lips, teasing the clit that throbbed insistently through your costume. Your question was more of a criticism of his crassness. “Relax, you’ll like this.” He brushed off every critique, his focus narrowing to the only thing that mattered—his next dessert.

A firm finger dug into the fabric above your cunt before the screeching sound of fabric tearing. It was better than he imagined; his tongue already sought a taste as he admired the view. “That's it. I know you want this.” His tongue flicked out, tracing a wet path from your clit to your swollen opening. A jolt of electricity shot through you, silencing you momentarily as your hands dug into his hip. He chuckled again, pleased with your reaction. “See? Already loving it.” His response made your pleasure-filled veins run cold.

Returning the favor through shaky moans of your own, your fingers tore through the fabric of his clothing, leaving little time for him to react as your teeth sorted through the pocket of his boxers before his cock sprang out. Its tip was greeted with fervent kisses as a guttural growl rumbled from behind his veil. His tongue, hot and demanding, flicked out, tracing the sensitive flesh. A gasp escaped your lips, a mix of grit and nascent pleasure. He lapped at you with deliberate strokes, teasing and testing your limits. The fluttering of his tongue grew desperate to draw more sounds from you as you writhed.

That was until his toes curled upon a pair of nails dragging down the length of his swollen, veiny cock. He grumbled a string of curses, his tongue pursuing to ravage you in the wake of this being a competition. With practiced ease, your lips parted, bubbles of spit gathering around his tip as you toyed with him. “Fuuuuck me,” he sighed.

You took him in, the softness of your mouth enveloping him as you began to move, your head bobbing rhythmically. The swirl of your tongue was like pleasant lashings against his cock. Your throat relaxed as your nose met the tightening sack of his balls; he was losing his ability to resist. Every so often, you would flatten your tongue, ruining what might’ve been the build-up of his orgasm.

Your combined groans echoed mindlessly in the alleyway. With a clenched jaw, he flipped you right-side up, your hands dragging across the pavement momentarily. The sight of him frazzled you, his hair disheveled from the clenching of your thighs, and the front of his veiled mask drenched in your taste.

“How do you even have the energy to still hold me?” you asked, bewildered as he chuckled. “You underestimate my power.” His response made your eyes roll, and you both were winded nonetheless. He shifted again, his hands now gripping your thighs, spreading them wider. He positioned himself between your legs, his hard cock pressing against your clit, a tantalizing promise of what was to come. As he penetrated the twitching valley of your warmth, you both responded to one another with a moan—a sound of pure, unadulterated need.

Holy fuck, was he glad you couldn’t see his face. He was holding on by a thread, eyebrows furrowed with a quivering lip. “You probably… would’ve made me cum a-already if you didn’t keep playing,” he rasped, somewhat annoyed. “Shut the fuck up and keep going.” He couldn’t argue; his grip tightened against your upper thigh. With every drawback, you tightened around him, threatening to suck him in. Through labored breaths, his jaw went slack as his body nearly locked up on him. “Haa… ha… haa! You r-ready?” he drawled, dick pumping into you with his last shrivels of energy before his dick milked him dry inside you.

You both remained in somewhat of a daze. That’s when the familiar clang of Cecil's reAnimen echoed in the distance. Setting you down with a strange gentleness, he promised his return… leaving you with a hole in your pants. “Fuck.”

Masked Invincible

“Finally…” he whispered; you could’ve sworn his eyebrows creased beneath his mask—the full obscurity of his features made him difficult to identify. “Mark…?” you questioned, his shoulders drooping slightly as a relieved sigh left him. His costume was barely recognizable if it weren't for the signature black and blue; his frosted lenses left little to be discovered.

The instinct for danger—and to fight—was suddenly drained from you as he spoke. “We didn’t all make the same deal.” He approached, desperation weighing down his shoulders. “It doesn’t matter, Mark. You all murdered thousands… I don’t know you. I don’t care to hear you plead your case.”

Your response stunted his movements as the sound of padded feet quickened their pace.

“I—I know, but it was for a good reason, I swear,” he continued with a slight stutter, his hands gesturing to his chest. This somehow felt manipulative. “I liked it here… I came back to bring you and my mom back with me. We can start over.” His hands clung to your shoulders as he spoke, fingernails digging into the flesh. “And why would I do that?” you inquired, your gaze hardening as you anticipated a response. “Because… because I need you.” The delivery was purely pathetic, a voice cracked, edging his words as he nearly pleaded.

Considering the whole ordeal, it didn’t sound like an awful offer. However, it would be unsafe to assume the woman you once loved in the past was the same in every dimension. His submission might’ve unlocked a new kink you were unaware of, the sentiment tugging at your heartstrings. He was similar to the Mark you knew—emotional—but this one felt far more dangerous, a dog off its leash. You began to lie through your teeth. If it meant having a variant as an ally rather than an enemy, then so be it.

“Okay. I’ll come with you if—” Your words were abruptly sawed off as his hands hastily lifted half his mask and his lips found yours with fever. He brushed his lips against yours, featherlight, as if testing the moment—savoring it. He sighed into the kiss, his hands cradling your face, drawing you closer, deepening the space between breath and bliss. His fingertips dug into your skull as he was encased in your warmth.

Just how could he have ever let this go? Not this time. No, he would do better. He’d imagined this countless times.

Hands quickly shifting to your hips, he decided your apartment was best. Being on his best behavior would convince you more, right? Landing on the balcony, he slid open the door as you shuffled backward into the kitchen. You both pulled away, erratic breaths dampening one another's faces. Interestingly, as his costume loosened and pooled around his ankles, the mask remained. He seemed truly hellbent on keeping it on—not that you paid any mind.

Slowly tugging each article of clothing from your body, he watched as if hypnotized. It was nearly comical watching him progressively become aroused as seconds ticked by. His mind and body were one. His ragged gasps produced a small cloud of condensation through his mask. His dick a red, irritated mess with smeared pre-cum. Messy. Desperate. Guiding him into a chair, he manspread to allow you plenty of room once you straddled him, feet hooking against his inner thigh.

His tip pierced through you, giving you little time to adjust as gravity pulled you downwards. Your puffy lips cushioned him between hungry blows, combined arousal leaving a stringy mess in his lap.

Gripping your hips, his jaw clenched as he assisted you in riding him, the pace solely reliant on his stamina. "Wait, wait, slow down," you gasp, trying to regain control. But he's too far gone, his lust clouding his judgment. He grips your hips tighter, slamming you down on his cock with bruising force.

The pleasure is intense—bordering on pain—but you can't deny how much you're enjoying it. He leans forward, his masked face inches from yours. "I—I can't slow down," he pants, his breath hot against your skin. "I've wa… wanted this for so long. Needed this."

You can feel him throbbing inside you, his desire for you evident. But you need to take back control, to show him who's in charge here. You grip his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin as your ass meets the meat of his thighs from your efforts to ride him.

He groans, his head falling back as you take what you want from him. "F-fuck, yeesss," he hisses, his hands moving to your ass, squeezing and spreading it. "Take it all; take everything I have to give."

It was his most coherent sentence—just barely—as his voice cracked with a whimper.

Your moans began to mingle until it was a harmony unable to be differentiated. The sound bouncing off the walls sounded ten times louder than it was. His nose scrunched from beneath his mask, jaw flexing with an effort to remain sane.

"I am. And I'm going to use you until I'm satisfied." He shudders beneath you, his cock twitching inside you at your words. You can tell he likes this—likes being used and controlled by you. After all he’s done, he’d gladly let you go for today.

Your hips slammed against his with every downward thrust. The sounds of skin meeting rang in your ears, a whine of pleasure filling your lungs as unrestrained sounds began to filter. His pubic hair caused delicious friction against your clit as he began to grow sloppy.

He reaches up, his hands cupping the back of your shoulders to hold you in place as he rams into you. The added stimulation sends you closer to the edge, your body tensing as your orgasm approaches.

"C-...Cum for me," he growls, his eyes watching you intently with the goal of watching your face contort in lust. "Fuck… fuck… fuck, yes! G-Give it to me! Please…!"

His voice nearly gave out as he came with a shout, finally being able to make you his.

You soon followed after, collapsing on his chest as remnants of a moan leave your lips. It takes a while for you two to finally gather your bearings. He pulls his mask down, a smile etched into the fabric, before that damned voice calls out within his ear. “I’m sorry… I—I have to go. I'll come back for you,” he stutters, reluctantly leaving and flying into the murky horizon.

This was actually fun to type up. (If interested in Mark's subplot (same scenario), it's linked: here.)

MasterList ོ༘₊⁺☀︎₊⁺⋆.˚

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pomegranatesarchive · 2 months ago

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what happens in vegas, does not stay in vegas | ch. 01

pairing: oscar piastri x leclerc!reader

summary: down in the dumps after a big loss, your brother charles decides to stay in instead of going out to party, believing his fellow drivers would keep you from doing anything dumb while out on partying on the vegas strip. that was his first mistake. the next morning his wakes up to the news that you’ve went and gotten yourself married, but who could possible be stupid enough to take advantage of charles leclerc’s baby sister?

warnings: talks about men being creeps. drinking. lando and oscar being proper gentlemen, reader's age is not specified but its mentioned she's in her twenties! reader has everyone wrapped around her finger, oscars antisocial.

word count: 5.1k (my best so far)

authors note: okay soooooo, yes i did already post the first chapter of this series, but i hated it, sorry! so i rewrote it and this was the result, i promise this version is so much better, feedback is also appreciated :) enjoy! i also wrote half this while recovering from wisdom teeth removal, so if there’s any misspelling let’s just blame it on that. reblogs, comments, or feedback of any kind is always greatly appreciated!

series masterlist / playlist

next chapter ->

Charles Leclerc was a lame, little, whiny baby, loser. And you would’ve said it to his face…if he wasn’t giving you his card so you can buy drinks and souvenirs all night.

It was the Sunday of the big race in Vegas Nevada, coincidentally the first time you'd been in the States, and like any irresponsible twenty-some-year-old would be, you were more excited about the after-party then the actual race.

"Are you sure you don't want to join?" you shouted towards the hotel bedroom, you had your small setup in the bathroom, you pulled down your dress slightly and adjusted your hair before slowly stepping out of the hotel bathroom.

Charles perked up from his phone, shooting you a small smile, he had placed four in the race, something you found impressive (granted you found anything your big brothers did impressive) while he did not, hence him being a debbie downer and refusing to join you, and his fellow drivers on a night out at the Vegas strip.

"I'm sure, Piccina" Charles sat up, pushing his card towards you on the white bed sheets, "Just be careful?"

You nodded eagerly placing this card carefully into your wallet while smiling at the nickname, Piccina, meaning tiny, it had been your nickname ever since you were little, and him using it gave you the comfort of knowing he wasn't secretly mad at you for ditching him while he was down in the dumps.

"Who's going again?" Charles chimed from behind you as you adjusted yourself in the mirror.

You hummed, thinking, "I know Lando for sure."

Charles snorted, muttering, "That wasn't a question."

"I think Oscar, Carlos..." you paused, hoping you didn't hit a nerve, but he simply nodded, "Max might show up...Franco's a yes, Lance, Fernando, and maybe Pierre?" you turned to him with a smile.

Charles shook his head slightly, "Pierre's staying back with me."

You shot him a funny look, "Date night?"

Charles's laughter rang out in the room, he pulled a pillow from behind him and shot it at you, "You're not funny!"

You stood up, throwing the pillow back at him, "You sure are laughing!"

Two stood around for a few more minutes, with Charles refusing to let you leave out alone, insisting you waited for Lando to pick you up. You groaned, "He's taking forever!"

"I don't care!" he matched your tone, "Its dangerous, you could get mobbed or something."

"And having Lando is going to help that, how?" you rose a brow, and his awkward silence made you smirk in triumph.

He huffed, rolling his eyes, "He won't help with the fans, but he’ll help if some creep tries touching you."

You couldn't argue with that.

Just as you were going to try and argue your way out of the door, again, a small knock rang throughout the room.

You beamed, skipping over to the door, as you opened the door, Lando snapped his head up, a whistle leaving his lips, "Looking good, Leclerc!" he cheered as stepped into the room slightly. You smiled as you gave him a slight spin.

"Thanks Lando," Charles joked, you slapped his arm slightly, rolling your eyes, "You know he was talking about me."

Charles rolled his eyes as he and Lando 'bro-hugged' while you went around the room making sure you had everything you needed.

'"Okay, I'm ready!" you cheered, walking over to the two men. Charles nodded, looking you over once more, Lando made his way out the door.

"You got everything?" Charles checked, you nodded brightly, leaning over to give him a hug, "Phone? Charger? Bandaids? Condom?—“

"Charles!" you shrieked, feeling your body heat up as you heard Lando's faint giggle.

Charles held his hands up in defense, "I don't like talking about it either, but I rather you be safe."

You groaned, taking small steps towards the door, "Yes, Charles I have everything."

Charles smiled, holding the door open for you and you stepped out and stood by Lando, "Good. And remember if you need anything, call me."

"Sir yes, sir!" you saluted jokingly.

Charles turned to Lando, "Keep her safe, alright?"

"Sir yes, sir!" Lando mocked you, Charles rolled his eyes as you and Lando burst into laughter.

"Very funny.." was the last thing he muttered before shutting the door in your face.

☾

You and Lando walked side by side in the busy streets of Las Vegas, your eyes shone brightly as you took in the new scenery. When you were younger you didn't necessarily get to travel much because all the extra money went to karting and competitions.

You never complained, even when you had to give up your own dream of being a Formula One driver so Charles could have his chance. He was a great talent, everyone in the family recognized that, and you eventually got over your silly dream.

Since that day when you were ripped apart from your passion, Charles promised he would grant every wish you ever wanted. ‘We’ll go the States and eat everything!—And I’ll buy you everything because I’ll have money from Ferrari!’ he said as he wiped your tears from your puffy cheeks. You knew he only said that because he felt it was his fault you didn’t get to live out your dream. And although you would never admit it to anyone, because it made you feel like a horrible sister, sometimes you did resent the decision made by your family— you had talent too. Why was Charles the only one who got the chance to be great?

"Never been to Vegas?" Lando's voice cut through the silence, he was carrying bags and bags of all types of items, clothes, souvenirs, jewelry, you name it. You had really gone crazy. Since you had about an hour to waste until you were all supposed to meet up, you decided to get all your shopping done early.

You had wanted to hold the bags, but Lando instead he do it, saying it was the 'gentlemen' thing to do.

"No." you breathed out with a smile, "I don't get all the hate this place gets, it's beautiful."

Lando snorted, "I've never heard that said about Vegas before."

"People aren't as deep and sentimental as me Lando, you should know that by now," you wiped a fake tear from your eye and Lando burst into laughter.

You smiled, eyeing the bags in his hands once again, "Are you sure we shouldn't take this stuff back to the hotel?"

Lando nodded, pulling the bags closer to him, "We have a private area in the club, we can put them there."

You 'oohed', "Private area huh?"

"Only the best for Ms. Leclerc," he smirked.

"Oh please," you laughed, "You just don't want anyone to record you getting wasted."

"Okay, maybe that too."

You shook your head as you and Lando crossed the street, you caught a glimpse at the club down the strip, "So who's officially going?"

"I know Oscars going."

"Because you bribed him?"

"Yes."

You and Lando both giggled, swerving in between people, "Carlos is going..." Lando eyes you carefully.

You held your hand up, "What happens with Charles and Carlos on track is none of my business...plus they're like a bipolar couple, they'll be back to charlos in no time."

Lando thought for a second before nodding, "That's why carlando is better."

You shook your head with a smile and Lando continued, "George is going, so is Alonso, Max, Franco, Yuki, and Lance."

"No Alex?" you questioned.

Lando shook his head, "He said he's taking Lily on a 'supes romantic vegas date."

You awed, before frowning, "I need a boyfriend."

Lando smirked, turning to you, "You know I have the perfect guy—“

"Lando!" you heard a familiar accent shout near you. Both you and Lando snapped your head up to see Carlos waving widely at you two, while the others pretended not to know him.

"Carlos!" Lando shouted, lifting his arms up, the multitude of bags almost smacking you in the face.

You would think they hadn't seen each other in years with the way they embraced each other, you could only watch in amusement before you felt a slight tap on your shoulder.

Turning around you came face to face with Oscar Piastri, he just got cuter each day, "Hi." he mumbled as he pulled you into a soft hug. "I didn't see you today, and I didn’t want you thinking I was being rude or avoiding you.”

"You? Rude? Never," you mumbled with a smile and he patted your back softly, "I didn't think you would make it.." you pulled back and he shot you a questioning look, "I don't mean to offend but this doesn't seem like your type of place."

Oscar smiled, and you two started to make your way into the booming club, with Oscar's hand resting on your back, you made sure to greet everyone with a smile.

"It's not!" he yelled so you could hear him, while also making sure he wasn't too close to your ear. "Lando bribed me!"

You nodded, laughing, "Yeah he told me! How much did he give you?"

Oscar's face burned red—not that you could see it—"It wasn't really a..money bribe!"

You turned to him confused, but before you could ask him to clarify, you were both halted when Lando seemingly appeared out of nowhere, making you both pause.

Lando already seemed off his rocker, eyes moving side to side widely, "I'm going to get drinks!" he yelled, shoving all of your bags into Oscar's arms, who took them in surprise, "Our area is over there—" both you and Oscar turned to where he was pointing simultaneously, "Have fun okay?" he shot you two a big thumbs up before getting lost in the crowd.

You and Oscar both stood still for a moment before you slowly turned to each other, "How is he already drunk?" you asked, trying to take the bags from Oscar's hands, but he simply swerved around you, nodding up to where Lando pointed previously.

"I can take those, you know?" You yelled over to Oscar as you started climbing the stairs up to the top portion of the club, you could hear the big change in volume as you got higher.

Oscar gave you a funny look, "What type of man would I be if I let you carry these heavy bags?"

You didn't have an answer. It was a big culture shock when you realized men weren't exactly like your brothers, your brothers always treated you like gold. But once you went out to the real world, you were quick to realize that was not the norm.

Oscar took a slight peak into the bag, "What exactly did you buy?"

"Lots of things with my name on it," you laughed, taking a seat on the sofa next to the big group of drivers, who all acknowledged your existence with a smile. You watched as Oscar followed in your steps, taking a seat next to you, his knee touching yours.

"Examples?"

"You name it... license plate, shirts, bracelets, necklace."

"A true Vegas staple." Oscar nodded in approval, turning his whole body toward you.

You beamed, turning toward him as well, eager to keep to conversation going, "So...how do you feel about the race?"

Oscar laughed slightly, taking a peek behind you, "Probably a lot better than your brother."

You nodded with a pursed smile, "Probably,"

"Is that why's he's not here?"

You shrugged slightly, "Maybe. He said he just wasn't feeling it, but who knows?"

"Do you think they'll stay mad at each other for long?" Oscar's voice was now a quiet whisper, clearly trying to avoid attention.

You shook your head, "We have a flight back home tomorrow night, they'll be fine by then." you know that because you had told Charles that if they didn't fix their problem before said flight, you wouldn't be going home with them, you could not deal with that awkwardness. And Charles would do anything for you, so of course he and Carlos were going to make up.

Oscar perked up, smiling at you, "I'm going home on that flight too."

Your face lit up, "You live in Monaco now right?"

Oscar nodded bashfully, he had made the move early that year, during the ‘Leclerc-Piastri adopted son’ situation. He was very quiet about it, so he didn’t expect you to know about it—or frankly, care. “Y-yeah, I thought it would be better with all the traveling.”

“And the tax-evading.”

Oscar let out a loud laugh, no doubt catching the attention of others scattered around the room, you watched him cackle with a smile. “How are you liking it?” you asked.

Oscar sobered down slightly, a grin still present, “It’s not home…but it’s….Monaco.”

You threw your head back with a smile, “It’s better when you get past all the cars and celebrities.”

Oscar nodded, “One of my first days I went hiking," you remember seeing the picture he posted, all sweaty, your eyes widened at the memory, and you shifted flustered "It was nice."

"I can show you some better places if you'd like?

"Really?" Oscar's eyes were wide, full of excitement.

You nodded proudly, "Of course, I've given everyone here a tour of the city, I'm a great guide if I do say so myself."

The lights in Oscar's eyes diminished slightly, for a second, there, he thought he was special, he coughed awkwardly, "Oh yeah?"

You eyed the group behind you, "Since everyone here apparently loves tax evading, I've taken it upon myself to teach them about my home."

Oscar giggled slightly and you contained, raising your brow, "I'm surprised I haven't seen you around, I see George at least three times a week."

Oscar flushed, and this time he was sure you could tell, "Oh I..." he sucked his teeth, "I.. don't really leave my house."

You started at him with squinted eyes for a moment, "...Because of the fans?"

"No...no."

"Because you don't have a car?" you asked, recalling the photo of him riding a bike around the city months ago, you would've thought he would've bought a car since then, or at least borrowed one.

"I have a car."

You laughed in confusion, "Okay then why?"

Oscar shrugged, playing with the ends of his sweater, "I just don't really like to go out."

"Like ever?"

"I go to... grocery stores."

"Oh, Oscar..." you sighed, and the man jumped to defend himself.

"I play sim a lot!...and that's like talking to people?..."

You winced, "Is it though?"

Oscar sighed, looking down at his lap, "...No..."

You pursed your lips, patting his knew softly, "Its okay Oscar...I'll make sure you go out more."

Before he could respond, Lando's loud cheers emerged from the staircase, and Oscar felt your attention slip away from him.

"I'm back, and I bring drinks!" Lando shouted as he hurried over to the group, a tray filled with drinks in his hands. The others cheered. The drink was purple, and it seemed to be fizzling as everyone took one.

"What is this?" Lance blinked up at Lando, who shrugged, Fernando took a small sniff before pulling back in shock; the others looked at him in worry, as he coughed, waving everyone off.

"I have no idea!" Lando yelled, and the other slowly started to put the drink down, "The bartender just told me it would make us forget who won the race tonight!"

Just like that, everyone had picked their glasses back up and quickly swallowed down the drink. Georges's face went black as he rolled his eyes, taking a small sip of his drink, "Assholes.." he whispered.

☾

"You have really pretty eyes..." Oscar slurred as he watched you lay down on the couch, he sat on the floor, legs crossed over each other as he stared into your face.

You hummed, "People say me and Charles have the same eyes..."

Oscar blinked, "Charles has pretty eyes..."

There was no one left awake in the 'private' area, the men were either down on the dance floor, or asleep on the ground, such as Lance, Franco, and Yuki.

The drink had no effect at first, so everyone felt confident drinking another....and another...and another, and before anyone knew it, everyone was far gone, way far gone.

You giggled, bringing a drunken smile onto Oscar's face. You continued to giggle before your face turned serious.

You turned to Oscar with a glare, Oscar visibly jumped, "Do you have a girlfriend, Oscar?"

Gaping in shock, Oscar shook his head like crazy.

Your glare hardened, "I'm gonna need you to say it."

"I don't have a girlfriend." Oscar replied instantly.

You stared for a couple more moments before a bright grin took over your face, "Thank god!" you giggled before turning serious once more, "It seems like everyone is dating someone, and it makes me feel lonely." You quickly (with a small struggle) sat up from the couch, grabbing Oscar's hand.

“At least you don't have a girlfriend.”

Oscar, the most out of it he's ever been, swayed side to side, “I want to be your girlfriend.” he mumbled, pressing a soft, delicate kiss to your hand.

You giggled, throwing your head back, “Not girlfriend! Boyfriend silly…and I don't think whiny baby Charles would like that…”

Oscar sat up straight, “I don't care what Charles thinks,” he did, he really, really, did. “He shouldn't control your life.” In any other situation, Oscar would never say anything like this, in fact, one of the primary reasons he never man up and asked you out (other than the fact that he was sure you did not like him that way) was because he wasn't sure Charles would approve. And if he didn’t have Charles’ approval, then what was the point in even trying?

“He just thinks he knows best,” you mumbled through a frown. “He doesn't control me…does he?”

Oscar slipped his hands away from you, moving his arms widely “No! No…I’m dumb, Charles would never control you..”

But it seemed like you weren’t listening anymore, your eyes dazed, “If Charles does control me, then I should do something to get him back..” you turned to Oscar with a glare, he knew you well, you were thinking of ways to get back at Charles..for something he didn’t even do. “For being evil…”

Oscar laughed, shaking his head, “Charles isn't evil!” You joined him in the laughter. Before your face went blank, “What were we talking about?”

Oscar decided not to indulge in your evil sibling rivalry plans, “You were telling me how you wanted a boyfriend.”

You gaped, pointing at Oscar, “You're right! You know Oscar…you would be the perfect boyfriend!”

Oscar's cheeks went pink, “I would?” he mumbled bashfully.

You nodded proudly, “Mhm..you are very respectful..you've never stared at my ass, unlike some of the drivers..” Oscar’s mouth opened in shock with a million questions running through his mind, but you didn’t give him time to react, “And you're funny, not like joke funny,” Oscar tried to not let an offended expression take over his face, “But like expression funny. And I’m sure you’d give the best kisses…and! You look like you’d never forget an anniversary.”

Not to toot his own horn, but you're right, Oscar had a great memory, and if it was your anniversary, he would never forget it.

You’re face lights, “I have the best idea!” you squealed, standing up and pulling Oscar up with you, you both stumbled. You pulled on his jacket, bringing you face to face, “We should get married!”

The grin on Oscar’s face was electric, “Yes!” he shouted, accidentally waking up Yuki, who shot up from the cuddle pile on the ground with wide eyes, you two were too focused on your own bubble to notice him.

You gasped, gripping onto Oscar tighter, “Really? You’ll marry me?”

Oscar gripped onto your shoulders, shaking you back and forth tightly, “Of course I would! I’m not stupid!”

“Oh I have to tell Charles! He can’t miss my wedding!”

Oscar nodded, watching with a beaming smile as you pulled out your phone, opening it up before you slowly put it down with a frown.

“I can’t tell Charles.” your eyes unintentionally watered, “He won’t let me.” You slowly sat down on the small couch.

Oscar slowly sat next to you, trying to hide his dimmed energy, “Don’t worry about..” he mumbled, “I can wait.” I’ve already waited six years, he thought, what’s a couple more?

“But you shouldn’t have to wait!’ You groaned, quickly standing up, “We’re getting married tonight!” You stomped your foot, “I’ll just take lots of pictures so Charlie doesn’t miss it!”

Oscar’s light returned, he accepted the hand you held out for him, “Let’s go get married, Oscar!’ you cheered, leading him down the club stairs.

Yucki watched you two leave, his face full of confusion, he groaned, laying back onto the ground while rubbing his eyes, “Married? Charles is going to kill him.”

☾

“I still can’t believe you let the little princess go out without you,” Pierre mumbled through his bites of popcorn.

Charles rolled his eyes, grabbing another handful of the cornels, “She doesn’t have to be with me all the time, she’s growing up and wants to go out alone.”

“Okay…but with Lando?”

“Lando wouldn’t dare touch her. He knows I would throw him into the barriers.”

Pierre and Charles were lying in bed, a popcorn bucket lay in the middle of them, while a french romance movie played in the background.

Pierre nodded after a pause “You know who I’m worried about?”

Charles leaned over to look at the man, “Who?”

“That Australian creep.”

Charles furrowed his brow,”...Daniel?’

Pierre shot him a look, “No, not Daniel. Oscar.”

Charles shot up with a choked laugh, “O-oscar?” he threw his head back with a loud laugh, “O-oscar?”

Pierre watched him with an unamused face, waiting for him to sober, which took longer than you would think.

“Oscar?” Charles shook his head with a smile as he laid back down, “No..Oscar…” he giggled, “No.”

Pierre scoffed, “You underestimate him..I’ve seen it,” Pierre’s eyes unfocused, “He is always staring.”

Charles shrugged, throwing up a kurnell before catching it in his mouth, “Piccina is pretty…people always stare.”

Pierra shook his head sharply, “No…Oscar stares like he is trying to read her mind or something.. I’m telling you Charles, he is creepy.”

Charles waved him off, “Trust me. Oscar is the last person who would do something to piccina.”

☾

“I still think this is a bad idea..” Lando slurred as he took off his shirt lazily.

Max nodded in agreement, pulling up his suit pants, “Mhmm..” his head rolled back as he giggled, “Charles is going to blow up,” he made a boom sound.

“At least Oscar finally grew his balls and asked her out...” Lando giggled, looking over to where you and Oscar stood near the chapel. Oscar was adjusting your veil while you played with his tie.

“Does it count if they're both drunk?” Max asked.

Lando thought for a moment, “Maybe..”

After dragging Oscar down to the dance floor, you two found Max and Lando, who you both let know of your plans to get married. You only needed one of them (to be a witness) so you could legally get married. But they both insisted on joining you.

You and Oscar were going all out (as out as you could be with a notice of maybe forty minutes) and that included a dress, veil, and suits for Oscar and the groomsmen (Max and Lando)

“You look gorgeous..” Oscar sighed, gazing down into your eyes.

“You look good too,” You giggled, tightening and untightening his tie. Maybe it was the nerves of doing something so taboo, but you needed something to fidget with.

“Are you sure about this?” Oscar asked, looking behind as the Elvis priest started to set up his whole thing.

“Yeah..” you sighed. In another situation you would’ve never even brought up the conversation of you being lonely, much less getting married in a Vegas chapel, but you were completely out of it, and to be fair, so was Oscar, Max, and Lando.

Speaking of which, the two groomsmen made their way over to you, and patted Oscar on the shoulder, “It’s time.” Lando sang slightly, pushing Oscar to stand on the side of the Elvis priest. Lando followed after him.

Max grinned down at you, giving you, “You ready?” he giggled.

You beamed, wrapping your arm around him as ‘here comes the bride’ started playing softly.”Sure am!”

☾

There was something so scary about waking up in a room you didn't recognize.

The light was blinding, and it just made your hangover headache ten times worse. You groaned, squinting as you slowly sat up from the unrecognizable bed.

Panicked, you looked around the room–it was trashed, with bottles of wine, and bed sheets scattered everywhere. In terror you looked down at yourself, letting out a sigh of relief at the sight of your clothes still on your body. It was not your clothes, fitting at least five times too big, but still, you took that as a good sign.

Slowly you inched off the bed, and there you noticed there was someone else in the bed, face down, with his arms sprawled out. It was a man. You panicked for a moment, he couldn't be dead, could he?

Carefully, you walked around the bed and squatted to take a look at who it was, the sight made your stomach churn, "Oscar?" you whispered to yourself.

What were you doing in Oscar Piastri's room of all places?

Omg, had he kidnapped you? You laughed to yourself. No, it was more likely that you kidnapped him.

Shaking your head, you decided to leave, the horror it would be if anyone caught you leaving Oscar’s room, the media would go crazy, you’d have to figure this all out later. You stared at him for a small second before making your way to the room, accidentally crushing a piece of paper that lay on the ground.

You winced, turning to make sure the sound did not wake Oscar up, it didn't. With a sigh of relief, you tiptoed out of the room, missing the wedding dress that was neatly hung on the door.

As you stumbled through the hotel hallway, you felt all kinds of dirty. Yes, you still had clothes on, but that did not necessarily mean you two didn't do anything. Yikes. You just prayed that Charles hadn't heard anything about this.

It was in this moment that you thanked Carlos Sainz, their small fight was the reason Charles didn’t go out. It was more than likely he didnt see anything.

Taking your hotel room key out of your bra (safe keeping), you turned the corner of the hotel, gasping in horror at who you saw pacing up and down your room door. Your brother, Charles.

His head snapped up at the sound of the gasp, his eyes red and swollen. He did not waste any time running over to you, his pupils were wild as he scanned you up and down multiple times, he was rambling in French, making your head spin by the sheer volume of his voice.

You shushed him, squinting, "Charles.. calm down please."

He pulled you in a tight hug, "Calm down? How can I calm down! You disappeared and didn’t answer your phone, and I have to find out through Instagram that you got married!" Pause.

You pulled back from the hug, feeling the room spin, "What?" you whispered, although he didnt seem to hear you.

"And listen mon cœur, if you love him then it's okay. We're not mad—just, why didn't you tell us?" He looked down at you with a frown.

You shook your head violently, holding up a finger,

"No no, Charles, what are you talking about?" His sadness quickly turned to confusion, "You got married?"

Your eyes went comically wide, "What!?" you yelled, not caring about your volume.

Charles took a step back, "You disappeared all night and Max posted to social media pictures of your wedding being married. You.. don't remember?"

"No Charles I don't fucking remember!" you shouted in horror, patting yourself down for your phone, just your luck, it wasn't on you.

"Oh my god.." you groaned, shutting your eyes."What's wrong? You don't remember getting married to your secret boyfriend?"

You looked up at your brother blankly, "Charles, I don't have a secret boyfriend."

Charles tilted his head, slowly speaking, "...Then who did you marry?"

You chose not to answer, letting him piece the puzzle together himself.

"You got married to a stranger? What is wrong with you?”

"I was drunk!" you threw your arms up in defense.

"Oh, you were drunk!" Charles asked ironically, "I get drunk all the time and I don't get married to random strangers!"

"You act like I wanted this to happen!" You two bickered, not noticing the awkward Australian slowly making his way towards you two.

"Well, you don't seem as freaked out as you should be!" Charles shouted.

"I'm still processing this!" you whined, stomping your feet, just then you two heard a cough. You swiveled around only to come face to face with Oscar, his pale cheeks lit with fire, "Oscar," you smiled, nudging Charles.

Charles looked up at Oscar in confusion, giving him an unsure smile.

"Sorry to interrupt," Oscar rubbed the back of his neck, before presenting two items, your phone, and a piece of slightly crumbled paper,

You gasped, taking the phone with a smile, but before you could thank him, Charles spoke up,

"Why do you have her phone?" his voice was low, and no amusement was present.

You looked at Oscar with wide eyes, shaking your head slightly, Charles could not find out that you two had spent the night together, no way he would take that well.

With all the ruckus, you yourself hadn’t managed to piece the biggest puzzle together. Maybe if you were in a better headspace and realized that it was Oscar who you had drunkenly married, you would have stopped Oscar from even being near Charles.

Oscar swallowed thickly, blinking, before he could even mutter a word, the paper in his hands was ripped away. The panic was clear on his face, as he tried to reach for it, but to no avail.

You watched in confusion as Oscar clearly started to panic, you glanced back at your brother who was staring down at the piece of paper with never seen before anger.

"What is it?" you mumbled, looking down at his hands, it was a certificate, you slowly read it, dreadfulness morphing quickly.

This document certifies OSCAR JACK PIASTRI & Y/N LECLERC, were united in marriage in the LITTLE LAS VEGAS WEDDING CHAPEL.

Oh shit.

Charles glanced between you and Oscar, whose mouth was pressed tightly.

"You took advantage of my sister?" Charles whispered, and Oscar's eyes widened along with yours.

"No, Charles–" you tried, but Charles had already crumpled the marriage certificate and thrown it to the side.

"You took advantage of my sister?!" Charles yelled, and the next thing you knew, Charles was on top of Oscar, his fist landing on his beautiful face.

taglist: @stopeatread @freyathehuntress @morganalatina21 @sltwins @nichmeddar @landossainz @f1daydreamer @no-144444 @delululeclerc @weekendlusting @rifran @lunamelona @awritingtree @shimmermotorsport @sp1rl @teamnovalak @piastri-fvx @bowielovesyou @mastermindbaby @widow-cevans @anotherapollokid @nxlx96 @koibleufish @bokutos-babyowl @charlesgirl16 @mayusaatma @isotopemylove @sadiemack9 @nataliambc @bravo-delta-eccho @theseerbetweenus @woozarts @theblueblub @armystay89 @suns3treading @thisbitxhs-blog

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no-squ4sh-4-b4by · 3 months ago

Text

Kanye West and Bianca Censori's appearance on the red carpet was something out of a nightmare. If you haven't seen the clip, go look it up.

It starts with them posing, then they face each other and start to talk. Their conversation is not audible, but you can see Bianca shaking her head no and readjusting her large fur coat to cover herself. After three or four words are exchanged, she turns away from the camera and starts taking off her coat slowly. Revealing her naked shoulders, then her back, then her buttocks. She turns around to finally show off the dress she's wearing, a tight, see-through piece of nylon (designed by Kanye himself, according to a post he made on his Instagram) that leaves her breasts, genitals and ass exposed. She's essentially naked. During this whole scene, Kanye is just facing the cameras with sunglasses on, neutral expression on his face.

Now, I'm not shocked by nudity. Censori is definitely not the first celebrity to walk the red carpet wearing a very revealing outfit (and she won't be the last). What disgusts me is the scene they built around the outfit.

First, the little conversation they have. You can clearly see Bianca shaking her head no and tightening her coat around her before being made to undress. There's two possibilities here:

A) Either this wasn't rehearsed, so we essentially witnessed Bianca being pressured into undressing herself in front of dozens of cameras or;

B) It was rehearsed (the most likely option, in my opinion). But then why? Why act out this discomfort before the reveal?

Some could argue they were talking about something totally unrelated, but I very much doubt it. It's their big moment on the red carpet, in front of cameras, it's not the time to talk about the groceries.

What I think is happening is that they (but most likely Kanye) voluntarily chose to paint a scene of a woman being forced to undress herself in front of thousands for the amusement of her husband. It's essentially a brag, a show of force for Kanye. He's saying: "Look at my wife and what she'll do for me. Look what I can make her do. "

The last thing I haven't mentioned, and the scariest, is Censori's facial expression through it all. Neutral expression, no smile. Her eyebrows are trimmed downwards in a way where she looks slightly worried. And her stare is totally vacant. I've seen people say she looks drugged, dissociated, downright "stupid."

I think this is the main difference between Bianca's look and others who have worn skimpy outfits in front of the cameras. Whether it be Lady Gaga, Kendall Jenner, or Madonna, they all share something: confidence. A sultry look, a cheeky smirk, hell, at least a smile! Something to show that they feel desirable, that they're in control. That they choose to show us their bodies.

Whereas Bianca looks dead inside as she's posing.

After standing in front of the cameras for a little while, Kanye takes her hand and leads her away.

The whole sequence (no matter how much Bianca has consented to it) feels like a humiliation ritual. Kayne, standing there fully dressed, pressing his wife to expose her body to the entire world before parading her around. A gross display of chauvinist male domination on the body of a woman. Like, I don't know how else to say it, but it looks like he's walking around with his sex doll, still partially in her plastic wrapping.

Why are we seeing this? What is the point? I can't help but relate this to Elon's n*zi salute. It feels like we're witnessing more and more rich and powerful men pushing the boundaries of what is socially acceptable, trying to see how far they can go. How much of their toxic, repressive views they can share before we come for them.

My heart goes out to Bianca, I hope she's safe and happy in her marriage.

#this was a long one #spag talking #also a lot of people have mentioned how much Bianca looks like Kim Kardashian which is true #as if kanye is trying to send some twisted message to his ex wife #“i found another version of you who submits to me and will do everything i want”#gross all around #bianca censori #kanye west #grammys #grammys 2025 #fuck the patriarchy #think piece #feminism #analysis #social commentary

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thebestsetter · 4 months ago

Text

"(Name)."

"Yes, Rinnie?" You asked. Rin almost never interrupted you while you were doing your skincare, so you figured this was an important matter "Did something happen?"

"'Did something happen?'" He mocked your voice, frowning at you "Don't try to act like you did nothing wrong"

"Wow wow wow. Don't give me that attitude, young boy!" You said, frowning back and playfully pulling his nose, which made him let out a startled 'Yelp!' and push your hand away "But seriously, what did I do? I have no idea"

"Oh but you most definitely do" he grabbed your phone from the counter and began looking through it, frowning all the while and cursing the slow wifi.

You weren't really nervous about it because you both trusted each other, and you knew you hadn't done anything wrong.

So why? Why was Rin Itoshi frowning at your phone at almost 12 am. on a random wednesday?

You needed a sign, anything to help you understand him. Maybe you forgot something important. Maybe you didn't do the dishes yesterday, and it was your turn to do them. Maybe he discovered your secret fanpage. You had no idea.

'Oh, my Sheila!'

On second thought, you most definitely did.

"'When I'm arguing with my boyfriend but then remember who I'm arguing with'? Really, (Name)?" He frowned, turning the phone to you and shoving it into your face "And where did you get this photo of me anyways? It's so old"

When you grabbed your phone, you saw your favorite photo of all time. It was 5 year old Rin Itoshi, give or take a few months, with his mouth wide open like he was eating a rainbow, looking all silly and squishable.

"Can you blame me, Rin? Look at him!" You said, showing him the picture "He was so cute!! You were so cute. And so round, too!!" You suddenly pinched his cheek like a grandma "I love this picture of young you."

"Only the picture?" He crossed his arms

"No" you giggled, hugging him "I love you, too, Rinnie"

He hugged you back, his head in the crook of your neck. It was moments like these that you enjoyed the most: just the two of you, without anyone else to interfere

"Maybe" he started, voice muffled from your hair "I'll let you keep that video up. But only if you promise me Isagi and Bachira won't find it"

Oh oh.

"Uhm... Rinnie" you said, slowly getting away from the hug. You knew what was going to happen "They... already saw it"

"What."

"Yeah, Isagi even put it was his profile pic or something"

Rin quickly snatched your phone, opening the comment section with 12k+ comments.

There, in all of their glory, were Isagi and Bachira's comments, each with 10k+ likes

Yoichii._: Ty for the photo, (Name). Putting it as my pfp 🙏

Meg.chira: JUST MADE A STICKER OUT OF IT, DM ME IF YALL WANT IT

"Delete that shit right now" Rin said, storming off and muttering something among the lines of "I'll kill them both" and "I hate them" while you laughed your ass off

Well, in the end, you did delete the video. What matters, after all, is that you had the most amazing picture ever, and you wouldn't trade it for the world

Bachira has it, too. As well as the whole Blue Lock members. But they don't have the other hundreds pictures of mini Rin that Sae secretly sent you. So, you're still winning.

Pls tell me yall saw this trend already.

Masterlist

#blue lock #bllk #bllk manga #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #bllk x you #blue lock x you #rin x you #itoshi rin x reader #rin itoshi x reader #itoshi rin #rin itoshi #rin x reader #itoshi brothers #blue lock isagi #blue lock bachira

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himasgod · 2 months ago

Note

Can I request Sebek with an S/O who is very soft spoken? Like, she has trouble being heard and even her "loud" voice would be considered quiet by most people?

Sebek x Reader

Where your voice is too soft

How would Sebek act if his partner's voice was very soft, and it was very difficult to be heard?

Sorry for making this so extense, everyone with two eyes can see that Sebek is my fav and I wanted to give him the one shot he deserved, I love him very much, enjoy it <3

Ever since he'd met you, Sebek had had difficulty listening to you.

Not because he didn't want to, but because your voice was so low that the surrounding noise often drowned out your words. At first, this frustrated him. How could anyone communicate if they spoke so slowly and quietly! It wasn't that he doubted your abilities, but in his opinion, words should be spoken firmly to demonstrate presence.

However, over time, his view began to change. He discovered that your soft voice held a special charm.

Every word you spoke, even if soft, was full of meaning. You didn't say much, but when you did, your words were sincere and profound. He learned to read you in other ways: in the way you tilted your head when you were thoughtful, in the way your eyes sparkled when you were excited, or in the way your lips trembled when you wanted to say something but were afraid to interrupt.

Sebek, who used to interrupt and raise his voice without realizing it, began to pause. He began to wait, to listen to you attentively. When you were together, he lowered his voice a little, though he didn't realize it. He leaned slightly toward you to catch every word you said, and if someone interrupted, his withering glare was enough to silence them and let you speak.

For example, one day, the classroom buzzed with the sound of conversations, laughter, and the occasional argument about the week's homework.

In the midst of it all, you tried to ask the person sitting next to you a question, but as always, your voice was lost in the noise.

"Could you repeat that?" Deuce said, frowning as he tried to hear you.

You took a breath and tried to raise your voice, but before you could…

"MY BELOVED WAS SPEAKING! SHOW SOME RESPECT!"

The boom of Sebek's voice reverberated off the walls like thunder, causing everyone to instantly fall silent. Even Crewel paused for a moment to see what was happening.

Your cheeks burned as you felt the entire class's attention on you.

"Sebek…" you whispered, wishing the ground would swallow you up.

"Speak up! Now everyone will listen to you properly!" he exclaimed proudly, crossing his arms.

Some students rolled their eyes and returned to their conversations, but others still looked at you curiously, as if waiting for you to say something worthy of such a huge interruption.

"It wasn't that important…" you muttered, lowering your gaze.

Sebek snorted.

"Everything you say is important! If others don't listen to you, then they're the ones at fault!"

You didn't know how to respond to that, but the class continued without further interruptions. Still, for the rest of the day, whenever you tried to speak and someone wasn't listening, Sebek would jump in without hesitation.

In the cafeteria. In the hallway. Even in the library (where he was almost thrown out for his scandal).

Finally, as you walked back to Ramshackle together, you decided to speak.

"Sebek…" you whispered, gently tugging at his sleeve.

He stopped in his tracks and looked at you with full attention, as if whatever you were about to say was a direct order from Lord Malleus himself.

"You don't have to shout every time I want to say something…" you said, feeling a little embarrassed.

"Of course I do!" he retorted, determination shining in his eyes. "If the others won't listen to you, then it's my duty to make sure they do!"

You sighed.

"But… I don't like everyone looking at me when you do it."

Sebek opened his mouth to argue, but closed it immediately.

He looked at you with a frown, as if processing your words. For a moment, you couldn't tell if he was outraged or confused.

"So…" he began, less confidently than usual. "Would you rather I did nothing?"

You shook your head.

"It's not that. Just… you listening to me is enough."

The silence stretched between you.

Sebek looked at you seriously, his green eyes shining with something different than their usual overflowing passion. Then, as if understanding something important, he nodded solemnly.

"If that's what you wish… then I will do it."

And he did.

From that day on, whenever you were in a group and your voice was lost among the others, Sebek didn't interrupt with a deafening shout.

Instead, he leaned his head toward you, making sure his ears caught every word.

When he noticed you wanted to speak, he gave you the space to do so, waiting patiently for you to express yourself at your own pace.

Even in moments of silence, if he noticed you wanted to say something but didn't dare, he'd simply whisper, "I'm listening."

And with that, you knew you didn't need to shout. That for him, your voice was enough.

One day, as you walked through the school hallways together, you stopped to say something, but at that moment, a group of students walked by, talking loudly, completely drowning out your words. Despite this, Sebek knew you'd tried to speak.

"Wait a minute!" he exclaimed. He turned to you with his characteristic energy. "You said something, I know! Say it again!"

You smiled a little, a faint blush rising to your cheeks.

"Today… today the weather is beautiful."

Sebek blinked, processing the simplicity of the sentence. Then, with his serious but bright-eyed expression, he nodded firmly.

"That's right! The weather is nice, but you have to be prepared for any sudden changes!"

The way Sebek took your every word seriously, no matter how simple, made you feel seen. Heard.

And that made you the happiest girlfriend in the world.

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted x reader #sebek #sebek zigvolt #sebek x reader #sebek x oc #sebek x yuu #sebek zigvolt x reader #sebek ily #sebek twst #sebek twisted wonderland #twisted one shots #twst x reader

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kxsagi · 14 days ago

Note

Hihihi! I just stumbled upon your blog after taking a break from Tumblr, and I adore your writing!💕

I saw that your requests are open, so I thought I'd send one! I've never done this before, lmao, so sorry if I mess something up!

I was wondering if you could write something about arguing with the BL boys and then suddenly flashing them in the middle of it, asking them if they're still mad now?

I saw that you were fine with suggestive stuff in your rules, but feel free to ignore this if it's too much! I won't ask for specific characters other than maybe Chigiri? Thank you in advance for reading this! I hope you have an amazing day!💕

“𝐧𝐨, 𝐢 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 ��𝐞𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐰, 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐰”

a/n: thank you girlie, you're so sweet, have an amazing day as well! 😚

title is a meddle about reference chase atlantic girls ily

suggestive content inside!

ft. itoshi rin, isagi yoichi, nagi seishiro, chigiri hyoma, mikage reo, kaiser michael, karasu tabito, ness alexis, niko ikki, shidou ryusei, itoshi sae

itoshi rin

you’re squaring up with him in the kitchen, halfway into a dramatic rant about how he never wipes down the counter after making his protein shakes.

"do you know what cleaning is, rin? do you even see crumbs or is your brain like–"

you cut yourself off, suddenly gripping the hem of your shirt and yanking it up with the speed of a magician doing a card trick.

just. flash. like it’s the most casual part of your sentence.

rin freezes. his jaw clenches, his whole body goes taut like he just got sniped from a rooftop.

he doesn’t speak. doesn’t blink.

his eye twitches like his brain is trying to keep functioning but a giant red ERROR screen just popped up in his mind.

“… did you just… what is wrong with you,” he hisses, voice low and stunned.

“you still mad?”

he looks at you like you summoned the devil. “… you are so annoying. get over here.”

he says it like a threat, but he's already reaching for you with dangerous intent.

argument forgotten. you’ve created a new problem.

isagi yoichi

you two are in the living room, arms crossed, facing off like two lawyers in a petty court show.

"you NEVER close the cereal box. it gets stale, yoichi. stale. it’s like chewing cardboard."

he’s rolling his eyes, "it’s not that deep–"

you sigh like you’re done. then, without warning, you lift your shirt and flash him like you’re unveiling a secret treasure.

it takes him exactly 1.5 seconds to process what just happened.

he literally chokes on his own spit.

“WAIT?! wait, wait, wait–”

his voice jumps three octaves. his hands flail like he’s trying to rewind reality.

“did you just–?! are you crazy?! i was–i mean, we were fighting!”

you just smile innocently. “you still mad, though?”

he’s red from the neck up, mouth opening and closing like a fish.

“i-i need a timeout. a breather. some water. i–”

spends the next 10 minutes pacing in the kitchen muttering, “i’m dating a menace” with a lovesick grin, replaying the image in his head like a perv.

nagi seishiro

he’s lying on the couch, playing games, while you rant about how he left his laundry in the washer again.

“it’s gonna get moldy, sei! do you even care?! i’m not your maid!”

he groans. “too loud. i can’t hear my game.”

and that’s it. you snap.

you walk over and lift your hoodie in one swift move, flashing him right as he scores a kill.

he literally drops the controller.

“woah.” eyes locked. mouth slightly open.

he just blinks and says, “that’s not fair. now i forgot what i was mad about.”

“you weren’t mad.”

“exactly. we’re even now.”

immediately lies down with his head in your lap, face smushed against your thighs like he’s done anything productive all day.

mutters into your skin, “flash me again? i need it for my health.”

chigiri hyoma

you’re in his room, arms crossed, glaring at him for bailing on a hangout to go to the gym again.

“you didn’t even text. i sat there alone for 40 minutes–”

he tries to cut in. “pretty, i told you i had–”

you ignore him. you step closer, grab the edge of your shirt with both hands, and–

flash.

his jaw drops. his soul leaves his body.

“what the hell?!”

his face explodes in red, like he got hit by a tomato.

“what was that? was that a power move?!”

“you still mad at me?”

he swallows. hard. “… i was gonna defend myself but now i wanna marry you so i win either way.”

immediately flops onto the bed and yells into a pillow.

refuses to look you in the eye for 10 minutes.

whispers later, “i love you, but i’m never winning another argument again, am i?”

mikage reo

he’s mid-speech about how you should “just let him spoil you,” and you’re mid-speech about how “you don’t need a $500 pair of slippers.”

the room is tense. luxurious. slightly dramatic.

you interrupt yourself mid-sentence by slipping off your oversized sweater with flair, flashing him like you’re presenting a damn exhibit.

reo’s reaction is instant.

his mouth slowly curves into the cockiest, hungriest smile you’ve ever seen.

his voice drops two octaves.

“oh? that’s how we’re playing now?”

“you still mad?”

“i wasn’t mad, but now i’m incredibly distracted.”

walks toward you like a man possessed.

says dumb flirty things like, “wanna be my sugarbaby and my therapist?”

spoiler: you never finish the argument.

he wires money to your account and takes off his own shirt just to match.

kaiser michael

he’s all smug and loud, spinning around in a designer chair like he owns the universe.

you’re arguing about his ego.

“you can’t call yourself ‘a gift from god’ in front of my parents.”

he smirks. “they agreed with me.”

you stare him down. then without breaking eye contact, you pull your shirt up and flash him with zero hesitation.

he blinks once. twice. then he smirks wider.

“… oh, liebe. that was dangerous.”

leans back in his chair, tongue poking the inside of his cheek like he’s trying not to get feral too fast.

“are you still mad?”

“no. but you’ve signed yourself up for so much trouble.”

five seconds later: you’re on his lap.

he calls you a “cheater” while whispering unholy things in german.

you never win the argument, but now neither does he.

karasu tabito

he’s being an idiot. again.

said something sarcastic. you called him out. now it’s five minutes of dumb back-and-forth in the hallway.

you sigh. “you know what?”

you reach down, pull up your shirt, and flash him like you’re changing the subject on a powerpoint slide.

he gasps. no, squeaks.

stumbles backward into the wall like you just slapped him with a holy vision.

“MA’AM?!”

staring at you like you just performed a magic trick.

“you still mad?”

he shakes his head, stunned. “not mad. but i might need a moment to process this. maybe therapy.”

starts cracking jokes to cope. “was that a jumpscare or a proposal? because either way, i’m in love.”

never stops talking about it.

refers to it later as “the day he saw god.”

ness alexis

you were in the middle of a heated argument (probably about kaiser).

“why do you let him treat you like that? he’s not your boyfriend, alexis–”

“he’s not treating me badly! you just don’t understand him!”

and he’s got his hand on his chest, eyes glossy, one foot already stomping into a diva spiral.

you inhale slowly. then–

flash. shirt up. deadpan face.

he stops. dead silent. his hands freeze mid-gesture, trembling ever so slightly. eyes wide, lips parted like he just got slapped with a romance novel.

“... you’re weaponizing your chest.”

“you still mad?”

he blinks. gasps.

covers his face with both hands, voice cracking, “y-you can’t just DO THAT! i’m vulnerable!”

starts crying-laughing like a victorian wife who saw her husband naked for the first time.

he’s pacing. dramatically.

"i feel faint. lightheaded. i need to sit. or lie down. preferably on top of you. for stability."

somehow the fight ends with him in your lap.

whispers, "don’t tell kaiser. he’ll start using it against me."

niko ikki

you’re arguing about him spending 6 straight hours on his game, ignoring your texts.

“do you even remember you have a girlfriend, or is league your real soulmate?!”

he frowns, flustered. “i was in ranked! you always say you want me to do what i love–”

flash.

you just hit him with a quick shirt lift and stare him down.

his pupils dilate like he just activated his sharingan. his blue lens glasses slip down his nose. his mouth opens. closes.

he’s buffering like a video on 2G data.

“what the hell was that for?!”

“you still mad at me?”

he’s trying so hard not to look again.

“… i’m not mad, but i’m deeply concerned for my sanity right now.”

you smirk, turning away like the boss you are.

behind you, he silently clenches his fist and mutters, “i love her so much it’s ruining my life.”

texts you later from the next room: “you made me knock over my water.”

shidou ryusei

you’re in the middle of a heated argument, likely because shidou can’t take a hint.

“i’ve told you a thousand times to stop leaving your clothes everywhere!”

“i literally live here. where else am i supposed to put them?”

“on your damn body, for starters!”

he’s grinning like the chaotic gremlin he is, clearly trying to get under your skin.

you stare at him for a moment, silently deciding: this ends now.

flash.

you yank your shirt up, but keep your eyes locked on him. no warning. no hesitation.

his face goes from smirk to confusion to full-on shock in a matter of seconds.

his eyes widen, and he just... stops. his body visibly jerks back like he’s been hit by a truck.

“… what the hell?”

he snaps his head to the side like he’s trying to reset his brain, then dramatically blinks about 50 times.

“you still mad?”

his usual cocky, devil-may-care expression falls into full flustered chaos.

“… no. not anymore. but you just became my new favorite person. you wanna keep doing that, or should we keep fighting?”

he drops the argument completely and starts lowkey following you around for the rest of the day.

mutters to himself like a love-struck fool: “this is it. she’s my queen.”

proceeds to try to make you more mad for the rest of the week just to get another flash. it’s working.

itoshi sae

oh, it’s on now. sae is being sae. classic emotionally distant asshole.

you’ve been trying to get him to talk about his feelings, but he keeps brushing you off.

“stop acting like you’re some kind of unreachable god,” you snap.

“i’m not the problem here, you are,” he counters with that trademark smugness.

and just when you think you’re about to lose your mind, you don’t even flinch, you just flash him.

your shirt lifts slowly, not in a teasing way, just purely to make a point.

his whole world crashes for a split second. sae freezes mid-sentence. he blinks. his eyes widen slightly.

you watch the exact moment his composure starts cracking, the cool facade slipping just enough to reveal–

“did you just–?”

“you still mad?”

his breath catches in his throat, voice suddenly a little hoarse. “… i’m not mad, but i might be a little… distracted now.”

he clears his throat, trying to act like he’s in control, but it’s a losing battle.

“gosh, you’re insufferable,” he mutters, but there’s this shift in his tone, the way his hand instinctively reaches out toward you like he's trying to anchor himself.

you can tell he's so turned on, but he's also mad about it.

he stares at you like you’ve just opened the gates of heaven, and he's not sure if he wants to kiss you or run from you.

you’ve won. and he knows it.

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runnning-outof-time · 2 months ago

Text

A Little Thank You | Tommy Shelby x Reader

Request: yes by @darlingsfandom - sent as a blurb request

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x fem!Reader

Summary: In which (Y/N) (Y/L/N) repays her employer in a way he wasn’t expecting.

Warnings: language, an almost bar fight (series typical violence)

Word Count: 1856

A/N: I wasn’t expecting this to turn into a full on story, but it did - thanks so much for giving me the inspiration to write this, Em! I’m sorry it took so long for me to share it. The prompts sent in are bolded in the story. Enjoy! :)

COMMENTS & REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED — I’d love to know what you think of the story!

Comment/Message me if you’d like to be tagged!

"I put me order in first!" one drunken man yelled at the man standing next to him.

"Mate this isn't even what you ordered!" the other man replied. Both men's hands reached for the pint glass at the same time.

"How the fuck do you know what I ordered?!" the first man questioned, his now brows deeply furrowed.

"Because I was here when I heard ya say it!" the second man responded.

(Y/N) stopped the order she was working on when she heard the squabble start. "What's happening here?" she asked the men, hoping to get some insight on why they were screaming at each other.

"That's bullshit!" The first man was not backing down. The screaming matched continued without acknowledgement of (Y/N)'s question.

"I'll tell you what bullshit is...bullshit is when someone claims a drink is theirs without checking what it is!"

"I'll show you bullshit..." the first man growled through gritted teeth before lifting the glass and slamming it down on the bar top, making the glass shatter and liquid spread across the wooden surface. He then lifted the handle, that was so conveniently still in his hands, in a threatening motion at the second man.

Nothing good was going to come out of this.

"Enough!" (Y/N) exclaimed, trying to get their attention by slamming her hand down on the counter.

A sharp pain surged through her hand the second it hit the surface, but she was too caught up in breaking up the bar fight to check and see what the cause of it was. "You both need to stop acting the way you are or you'll be thrown out."

"You need to start pouring the right fucking drinks in the right fucking order!" the first man yelled right back at the barmaid. He quickly turned to face her, the sharp handle of the glass now being waved in her direction.

"You might want to think about what you're doing right now," (Y/N) said to him, speaking in a low, leveled voice to try and get him to see sense in that moment.

She had no idea how this was going to go down.

"Oi! What the fuck is going out here?!" a booming voice came from the right-hand side of the altercation. (Y/N) turned her head to see a glaring Tommy Shelby looking through the small window that separated the private snug from the rest of the establishment.

"It's getting handled, Mr. Shelby," (Y/N) said in a quiet, but assured, tone. She hoped he could see that she could handle these sorts of situations by herself without having him stop he was doing to step in.

Tommy looked at (Y/N) for a moment, processing what she said before surveying the situation. In a matter of seconds he was out of the snug and approaching the bar. Anger was starkly apparent in his features. "I want both of you out of this fucking pub right now. Continue this if you want, but it won't be in front of me." He spoke in an almost growl-like tone. (Y/N) had never seen his this angry before.

The men didn't try and argue with him. They responded to his demand with a quick 'yes, Mr. Shelby' before they hung their heads and exited the establishment.

Tommy turned his attention to (Y/N) once they were out of sight.

"Mr. Shelby I was going to..."

"Let me have a look at your hand, (Y/N)," Tommy cut her off, his eyes zeroed in on the hand of hers that was still resting on the bar.

"It's fine, it just...oh, shit," she stopped what she was saying when she actually saw her hand. The sharp pain that she felt was caused by what looked to be a shard from the broken glass becoming stuck in the side of her hand. "Fuck," she breathed out a sigh, looking around for a rag to try and stop the bleeding.

"Let me look at it, love," Tommy cut in on her search, hoping to stop it before she could cover the injury up.

"I'll go to the washroom and sort it out," she insisted, continuing to look for a rag, "and then I'll make sure to clean the counter."

"It looks like there's a piece stuck in it," he pointed out, disregarding the action plan she'd just laid out.

"Let me see it."

"It's fine, Mr. Shelby," she insisted.

"Let me help you, (Y/N).” He wasn't taking no for an answer.

"Ok," she answered with a breath, finally relenting and holding her hand out for him to inspect.

He looked at it for a moment before taking it into his hold and stepping ever so slightly closer to her.

The breath go caught in (Y/N)'s throat at their close proximity. One challenge of working for the Shelbys that proved hardest to her after all of this time was keeping herself composed around Tommy. There was just something about him that she couldn't quite shake from her mind. She had a crush on her employer.

As he took hold of her hand, he brought her forearm to rest between his torso on his own forearm, hoping that it would stabilize her injured hand more for him to have a better look at it. It did the trick...but it also got (Y/N)'s heart racing.

"Hold still, love. This might sting a little," he said to her as he readied himself to pull the shard out of the side of her hand. (Y/N) gritted her teeth and sucked in a breath in preparation, then let that same breath out as a hiss as Tommy pulled the glass from her hand.

"There…it's out," he announced, gently letting go of her hand so that he could throw the glass in the bin under the counter.

"Thank you," she smiled at him, appreciation clear in her expression.

"You're welcome," he answered, nodding once as his lips slightly curved upwards. "If anything like that happens again please come and find me. I'll handle it."

"I will," (Y/N) nodded, not even trying to fight him on it. She had no problem sticking up for herself, but she also wasn't going to argue with him wanting to handle any future altercations.

Tommy nodded again after hearing her response. He then watched her as she grabbed one of the clean rags to hold on the cut she'd gotten. "There's some bandages in me office...go and get one to stop the bleeding."

"I will. Thank you, Mr. Shelby," she smiled at him in appreciation before turning and walking to the part of the pub his office was located in.

(Y/N)'s smile was spread from ear to ear as she entered the Garrison on her next shift day. She did a quick search around the pub's main room before concluding that the person she was looking for was - hopefully - in the private snug.

She found him upon opening the door. He was sitting in his usual spot: the head of the table with his back to the bar. A quick glance around the room made her realize that his brothers, John and Arthur, were also present.

"Good morning, (Y/N). What can we do for ya?" Arthur was the one to greet her first.

"Good morning," she returned the greeting, smiling at the two men sitting in the booth before looking back at Tommy, "I, uh...I wanted to give these to you, Mr. Shelby," she said as she held her hand out in the space between her and her employer.

Tommy took a moment to look down at what she was offering him. There was no glaring emotion present on his face as his eyes returned to hers, and (Y/N)'d be lying if she said that seeing this didn't make her clam up a little bit. She was also able to feel Arthur and John's eyes watching the interaction, their gaze’s weight adding an extra intensity to the situation.

"You got me flowers?" Tommy finally asked her, his eyes falling down to the small bouquet that was grasped in her still outstretched hand once more.

"I...yeah, I picked them on my walk to work today. I wanted to offer a little thank you for your help the other day," she explained the reason behind her sudden gift offering.

"You didn't need to thank me, (Y/N). It was..."

"I wanted to thank you, Tommy-" (Y/N) rushed to insist, her words coming out before she could realize she was calling her employer by his first name, "I, er...I meant Mr. Shelby, I'm sorry..." she stammered out, trailing off as she felt herself heat up at the mishap.

Tommy kept his eyes trained on her, which only made her want to sink into herself more, a somewhat of an amused expression forming on his face. If anything, he found her actions at this moment endearing.

He let a few more beats pass before he spoke again (Y/N) was getting closer and closer to dropping the flowers and running out with each one. John and Arthur were watching on intently, like one would with a close sports match.

"I appreciate the gesture, (Y/N)," Tommy finally spoke, taking the flowers from her - still - outstretched hand. He took another moment to look at them...no one had repaid him for doing a deed in a thoughtful way such as this before. A part of him truthfully preferred the sentiment to any lumpsome of money he could have received.

(Y/N)'s nerves were becoming increasingly frazzled with each moment that passed. Is he going to comment on my mishap? Was he upset by it? Is he going to reprimand me for it? Maybe I should get out of here. Her trail of thoughts finally pushed her to act, and she finally broke eye contact with Tommy to look at the two other Shelby men in the room, hoping to let them know that she was addressing everyone now. "I'll be going to my position at the counter now," she informed them, turning on her heel to walk the short distance back to the door.

"(Y/N)," Tommy's voice stopped her before she could open said door. She sucked in a breath as she turned back to face him. "Call me Tommy from now on, eh?"

The way he said it made it sound like a question, but anyone would have been able to tell that he was not asking her if she could do so. A weird feeling coursed through her body as she heard his statement. She couldn't explain it, or put a name to the feeling, but it put a smile on her face.

"I will," she gave him an answer even though he wasn't expecting one, nodding her head slightly before she continued with the motion of opening the door and exiting the snug.

MASTERLIST

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