#might make it more detailed later. eventually. maybe
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yeonban · 3 months ago
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I was thinking there aren't enough memes catered to third parties on this site (ex. two muses talking about a third) which imo make rp flow so much smoother sometimes bc it feels more realistic for interactions to not start & end at only the two people directly involved, but then I realized... blud, you have a meme sideblog. You can literally make your own dreams come true
#◜✧ . ❪ ooc. ❫#I remember back in the day (<-2016ish) we all used to yap about each other's dynamics in-chara; for example friends would tease one another#about their alleged crushes; strangers would ask one another if they've seen [x/y/z] whether it was a friend of theirs or sb they want dead#and I recalled this today bc I saw one of the. idk maybe 5 total?? memes of this sort again... I stood there as if struck by lightning#Obviously I think it's especially great to do this organically/unprompted but I feel like a lot of people are (understandably!) shy about#bringing up one muse of theirs in an interaction where that muse isn't the main focus. I get it!! But imo it feels sm more lifelike#to experience those tiny details 🥹 I know at some point it was considered cringe (??) to use one muse to ask a mutual abt their other muse#(ex. me using Tobias to ask sb's muse about Elijah; me using Ango to ask sb's muse about Nikolai etc; you get the gist!)#but frankly........... WHO gaf about what's cringe & what isn't in this day and age 😭 I think we should all bring back being cringe & free#especially since these can be great drivers for BOTH the side dynamics (the people talking could become better friends) AND the people#from the main/primary dynamic whom they're talking about (a third party could help drive this dynamic further/make them realize things etc)#Once I get my break (real soon!!!!!!) I might work on making more of these memes bc starting w smth prompted may make it easier#for people to jump onboard & then later down the line we can eventually start doing stuff like this out of the blue too 🫡#And speaking of creating memes... I don't usually tend to; but if any of you guys ever have suggestions for memes you'd like to see#but can't find anywhere/can't find enough of? Lmk and I'll write them up for you so you can rb them & live the life of your rp dreams 🫡
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kngrose · 6 months ago
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𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐑 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄 𝐃𝐀𝐘𝐒 𝐀𝐓 𝐀 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄 𝐒𝐎 𝐈'𝐌 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐃...
imagine a situationship with sevika
WARNINGS: mentions of cheating, drinking, bi! reader but wlw, eventual smut, modern au
from roselí. ᡣ𐭩 : i have way too many thoughts about this— this will have multiple parts. see part two here. ^^
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It wasn’t supposed to happen. You didn’t plan for it. But somewhere along the line, something changed. Your relationship had gotten too… comfortable. At first, the changes were subtle; He wasn’t saying anything outlandish, nothing to make you question your relationship.
But there were small instances, ones where he’d forget plans you made, or when he’d linger on his phone a little longer than usual in your company. You told yourself it was nothing; he might just be a little more stressed than usual– maybe there’s something personal he’s going through.
But as time passed, the pattern became clearer. Conversations that used to flow easily were now strained, almost forced, filled with half-hearted responses. He didn't pick up on the little things anymore; your new manicure or your haircut you had gotten to perfectly frame your face, in hopes that he would notice.
He wouldn’t be as passionate anymore, the fire he once held slowly dimming before your eyes. It was disheartening. The spark that once kept your relationship alive is fading, and you're left with a gnawing feeling of emptiness that you can’t quite explain.
And then there was her.
It wasn’t anything too large, the event. Just a kickback amongst some of your shared friends and some extras they’d invited. You’d tagged along with your boyfriend who’d long forgotten about you, chopping it up with a few of the guys on the couch. You felt a sour twinge in your gut as you sat beside him; this is the most enthusiasm he’s shown in weeks.
You’d noticed her in your solitude; shooting you glances across the room. Similar to you, she hadn’t said much of anything, just idly man-spread on the neighboring couch, red cup held loosely in her hand. You’ve never seen her before… you wonder whose friend she is.
You can't help but return the glances– look at her. Her broad shoulders, her thighs, her hands decorated with rings. The piercings that decorate her face. Those eyes, assessing you as she circles the rim of her cup with an index finger, a little smirk forming on her dark lips.
How could you help it– when she’s just radiating with unspoken confidence? It’s captivating, drawing you in like a deer in headlights. There’s a sharpness in her eyes that unsettles you, and yet, something about it excites you. She’s not like anyone you’ve ever seen.
You realized later that she was just waiting. Waiting for your boyfriend to excuse himself so she could move in. It’ll make you wonder later, how much of this she premeditated. It doesn’t take her long to approach you when he leaves, sliding into the spot next to you curtly, smirking as she meets your eyes. She’s beautiful up close.
She’s looking at you with that calculating gaze, making it clear she’s intrigued. She scans your face up and down, “Like your hair… suits you.”
Her voice was deep, commanding, like she had the power to bend the world to her will. You feel your cheeks warm under her gaze, touching your hair softly. “Thank you.” You manage to retort, embarrassingly glancing away. When you shot your eyes back to hers your breath got caught in your chest, her gaze is unwavering. A chuckle rumbles from her throat, “You’re cute.”
But it's not just the look—it’s the way she speaks to you. It’s amazing how easily she manages to fluster you, it’s effortless. Sevika, you learn that her name is, charms you with her dry humor and college stories, entertaining you the entirety of the night.
She tells you about all of the petty fights she’s been in, and all of her run ins with the police. Some of which are so descriptive you have to wonder if she’s being generous with the details. All the while she’s charming you up, placing a hand on your knee, then to your thigh, drawing small circles. You take note of the way she seems to fixate on your hair, constantly moving it from your face or twisting the strands between her fingers.
The flirtation feels different—darker. Her voice rumbles with a kind of quiet power, and when her hand brushes against yours, it lingers just a little too long. You want to pull away, but instead, you stay. The tension builds, and despite your better judgment, a part of you is drawn to it. To her.
You wish you could go back in time and slap yourself. You knew better than to get yourself alone with this girl, this freakishly charismatic, freakishly, randomly attractive girl. But you let her lead you away to a secluded hallway of the house, her excuse being the music was too loud.
And she continued conversing with you, leaning against the wall and swallowing down the rest of the cup. She huffed out something between a scoff and a laugh, “You a nanny or somethin’?” You shot her a confused look in response. She looked down, nodding her head towards the red cup in your hand. “You’re babysitting.” 
“Oh, this…” You mutter, swirling the drink around plainly. “Not much of a drinker.” You notice the roll of her eyes as she pushes herself off the wall and your breath hitches as she closes in on you. She pulls the cup from your hand, raising a large hand to your chin to tilt your head back. You barely manage to sputter, “What are you doing–!” before she orders you to, “Open,” nudging your chin softly.
You lock eyes with her for the umpteenth time, her eyes filled with something different this time around. You hesitantly part your lips, allowing her to pour the rest of the content into your mouth. There’s a soft groan leaving her mouth as she watches some of it spill from the corner of your lips down your chin.
The way her eyes lingered on your lips made your heart race. You were suddenly aware of how close you were, how her scent filled your senses, how her gaze felt like a slow burn.
You don’t say anything, but you can feel the heat between you both, the pull that’s been growing stronger with each passing second. Before you know it, she’s kissing you—rough and urgent, her hands gripping your hips with a hunger that matches the storm brewing inside you. Her kiss is overwhelming, like a fire that consumes you whole. You melt into it, into her, not thinking about the consequences, not thinking about him.
The moment ends just as quickly as it began, but the aftershocks are impossible to ignore. You stand there, breathless, disoriented, and yet, there’s a part of you that doesn’t regret it. It feels raw, real, and alive in a way you haven’t felt in a long time.
You pull away from Sevika, your chest tight with confusion and shame. But Sevika just watches you, unfazed. There’s no sympathy in her gaze, in fact, all you could register was a sly smirk on her lips. Sevika moves to stand close to you, her presence overwhelming, wrapping a hand around your throat, "What's holding you back?" she mumbles against your lips.
And in that moment, you realize that nothing is holding you back. You’ve already made your choice without even knowing it.
There’s no turning back now.  
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taglist: @opropheticsoul
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wonderjanga · 6 months ago
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History
Marvel talking about the past lives as if he’s lived them in almost every era besides the five thousand year gap from Adam. That’s it.
Marvel and Aquaman: *got separated from the other JL members and ended up in an underwater cave filled with ruins*
Aquaman: *looking around the cave* “Amazing. I never knew this was here.”
Marvel: “This place is familiar.”
Aquaman: “Familiar? This place looks like it’s been here for at least a thousand years.”
Marvel: “Over seven thousand actually.”
Aquaman: “How do you know?”
Marvel: “I used to live here!”
Aquaman: “Huh?”
Marvel: *proceeds to launch into a detailed explanation of his life there, the people, etc*
Aquaman: “Interesting. Did all your people have lightning powers too?” *starts walking through the ruins*
Marvel: *follows after him* “No? I was the only one with powers because I was the Champion of Magic.”
Aquaman: “So what? Everyone here was just a normal human?”
Marvel: “No? They had could breath underwater like Atlanteans.”
Aquaman: “Ooh maybe they’re my people’s ancestors-”
*zombie groan*
They then proceeded to go on a super wacky adventure of being chased by underwater zombie Atlanteans until they eventually got back to the JL. (I might make a post on this adventure cause this seems like something interesting to write)
Then there’s was that time on live television, he said straight to a historian’s face:
Marvel: “That’s wrong.” *pointing to an artifact*
Historian: *looking between him and the camera* “What- What do you mean it’s wrong.” *sounds baffled*
Marvel: “I mean it’s wrong-” *starts yapping about the artifact and its actual uses and just said something completely different from what the historian said*
Historian: “Wha- How could you possibly know??”
Marvel: “Because I’ve used these before.”
Then there was the time neither Conner(Kent) nor Marvel had anything to do and no one was at Mount Justice so they just decided to watch a documentary on a lost civilization because they got bored.
Narrator: “And right here is an ancient text written on a slab by the *insert lost civilization*
Conner: *still bored, letting himself lay upside down on the couch* “This is boring.”
Marvel: *also bored and letting himself lay upside down on the couch* “Yeah, totally.” *not really paying attention and squinting to read the text* “All that is just a list of how many crops someone had. You’re right, this is boring,”
Conner: *groans*
Marvel: “Wanna make a dish from that lost civilization?”
Conner: “Dish? Like food? Sure, but how do you know a recipe from a lost civilization?”
Marvel: *lets himself float off to couch so he could stand* “Easy, I used to live there.”
Later…
Marvel and Connor: *looking at the food they both made in a solemn silence*
Conner: “That looks disgusting.”
Marvel: “What did you expect? Back then, we were trying to survive more than thrive.”
Conner: “Still looks disgusting.”
Marvel: “Yeah, yeah, let’s just see if it’s as good as I remember.” *tries some*
Conner: *grimace, look of disgust*
Marvel: “Dang, it’s still delicious.” *holds up a spoon for Conner* “Try some.”
Conner: *backs away like the dish is some type of horror* “No.”
Marvel: “Come on, Kon. We made it together. You might as well try our creation.” *waves the spoon in his face*
Conner: *looks like he’s about to vomit but begrudgingly forces himself to try it* “It’s…” *chewing* “actually…” *more chewing* “pretty good…?”
When the other YJ members came back, they were horrified to see Marvel and Conner eating… something…? Why’s it moving slightly? It looks alive.
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tokoyamisstuff · 2 months ago
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Second Chance At Love Epilogue
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Warnings: none, maybe slight mental health issues
A/N: sorry for the wait, writing fluff doesn't come easy to me... but damn, I am incredibly thankful for everyone that has been engaging with this fic! 💌 it's been a pleasure, and I can't wait to create more for you wonderful people! ✨️
[Six Weeks Later]
"Had a nightmare again?"
Mark's half-lidded eyes were locked on you, wiping his wettened lashes dry before nuzzling against your chest again. He had fallen asleep on top of you while cuddling on the sofa, seeming rather peaceful until suddenly he had started getting restless and whisper concerning things in his sleep.
Those present days his only trouble was an irrational fear that he might hurt you during one of his night-terrors, and yet he was also too anxious of losing you again to not be at your side 24/7. So he had taken on the habit to simply hold you in his arms as and forcing himself to stay awake, admiring and protecting you even throughout the whole night.
Most of the time he'd just randomly pass out due to exhaustion, just like it had happened earlier. It's a miracle how he can even be functioning on so little rest, but Mark kept assuring you he's had it worse before and sadly, you did take his word for it.
"Mhh..." He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to shun out the unpleasant memories haunting his dreams and instead concentrates on your heartbeat in order to calm his own.
You're alive. You're here with him. This is real.
"A true nightmare would be waking up and see you gone" your boyfriend mumbled shyly as his panicked breathing slowly evens out, trailing an absentminded path of kisses along your collarbone.
Sometimes doubt would overcome him, thinking this was too good to be true, that maybe he just completely lost his mind and made it all up in his head.
"Hey, I'm with you" you coo sweetly, planting a wet kiss on the crown of his head. It's like you always have the words he needs to hear on the tip of your tongue.
"I know, I know..." Mark's grip on you loosens a bit, although his hands remained possessively hooked to your body. "Thank you."
You try sitting up but a noise of protest drang to your ear, making you giggle as the man climbed on top of you, burying his face in the crook of your neck to inhale your scent.
"Mark..." His mouth plays with the shell of your ear, making a pleasant shiver run down your spine. You let out a sensual sigh, hands disappearing under his shirt to feel up his muscular chest, before softly pushing him away. "We're already late..."
Your boyfriend sat up, still straddling your waist as his eyes darted throughout the room, trying to look anywhere but your face. "Are you, uh...are you sure William is okay with me accompanying you to his birthday party?"
"He specifically asked me to bring you along" you snicker, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt to pull him in for another kiss. He practically melts when he feels his lips move against yours, even after all this time. He'd never get tired of this, of you.
Mark's face is adorably flushed when you finally break contact, and you poke his chest in a teasing manner, offering him a cheeky grin. "So don't worry too much, okay?"
"Alright..." he murmurs under his breath, letting himself dramatically plummet onto you again. "Ugh, this is gonna be so awkward..."
Indeed...
With the sheer endless rebuild and trying to figure out your boyfriend's place in this world, there wasn't really much time for you to have a long overdue talk with this world's Mark and his girlfriend Eve.
"We need to get it over with eventually, right? The party is a great opportunity."
Those past weeks have been rather eventful, and frankly a lot is still complicated.
You haven't even let him meet your parents yet, since it'd be hard to explain why the man you're dating looks exactly like your childhood best friend down to the last minicule detail. A long lost twin, maybe? Damn, Cecil better earns his taxpayer's money and come up with something - it's a exhausting to keep your relationship a secret as technically, your boyfriend shouldn't exist in this dimension.
But ever since he was officially allowed to stay and roam freely, he's relentlessly working to make amends for his deeds.
He once confided in you that he's afraid of his father- no, Nolan's return to earth - because even though it's not the same version that tormented him all these years, he was afraid to relapse and lose control at the mere sight of him.
But that's a worry for another day. One step at a time.
Initially Cecil wanted your Mark to become the Guardian's new leader, however that 'the strongest leads' mindset was too similar to Viltrum culture for his liking. Not to mention he has yet to earn their trust, and is still not completely mentally stable.
When he first joined the team, everyone was - and frankly, still is - pretty wary, if not downright hateful towards him. After everything they needed to endure because of the variants, it's no wonder really. And yet, up until now they managed to swallow their feelings and treating him polite and respectful, though distanced, which is more than he could dare asking for.
A small victory is that the knowledge he got from his own timeline proved useful against many foes to come. Like that he's already indirectly averted so many dangers and saved countless lives!
One would think that after defeating an enemy as ferocious as Conquest through shared efforts, the two Marks would get along by now, right? But actually they were far from it, neutral at best.
Cecil insisted that both Marks could share their identity as Invincible, down to having the same costume and all. You were surprised that the original Mark had declined, as it would've certainly worked in his favor to have more free time and less responsibility. Seems like he was against having a variant - with questionable morals at best - act in his stead. You got the sentiment.
Your Mark on the other hand was willing to accept whatever circumstances he was handed, as long as it meant that the two of you could stay together. Besides that, he didn't really care about anything else.
Much to your delight at least, he's slowly but continuously getting better, with the help of a therapist the GDA had provided. You're a little distrustful of anyone working for them, but they basically owned your boyfriend by now - and also, there's no regular therapist on this earth that would be able to unpack all of his issues.
All that counts is that it's working. He's been unrecognizeable compared to his former self, getting out of his shell lately and cautiously opens up to other people and experiences again. It's truly heartwarming to see him try to enjoy life again, because he deserves nothing less.
You were so incredibly proud of the progress he made, and would do anything to support this wonderful, resilient and kind man leaving his dark past behind.
One prolonged shower the both of you took together later, and you were almost ready to leave for the evening.
"At least in my empire didn't have to wash the dishes anymore" you hear him whine ironically as he rummaged the kitchen, making you snicker. "I was soaking them!" you said in a fake offended tone, but you knew he was just stalling. "We can do them together later. Let's go!"
Looking around your rundown apartment sure makes one wonder how luxuriously he probably lived in his world. You were just glad to afford anything to live alone, but this sure must be a downgrade for him. "Now that you finally get payed by the GDA we could affort to move somewhere nicer? I mean you basically live with me already."
"Don't overthink it, I was just trying to be funny." You sulk a little, almost smearing your lipstick while applying. "Yeah, we need to work on your humor too apparently..."
"You know I wouldn't trade this- you for anything in the world...we could be living in a trashcan and I wouldn't complai- woah..." As Mark stepped into the entrance area his jaw dropped at your getup.
His eyes couldn't stop raking up and down your form, admiring how your outfit highlighted your body in all the right places. Anything from the way you wore your hair over the necklace he got you with his first paycheck, it was a sight to behold.
The most important accessory however was the radiant smile that appeared on your face when you noticed his reaction, so warm and bright that it felt as if bathing in sunlight itself.
"Wow, you, uh...you look incredible."
Only now he realized for how long he has been staring, and your innocent smile turned into a wide, amused one as you noticed the effect you had on him.
"The compliment goes right back!" You wink at him and Mark swings an arm around your shoulder, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek. "How do I even deserve you?"
"It should be me asking that question" he insists, ignoring the way his stomach churns at the thought of meeting all of your friends. "Hurry up, before I change my mind."
7:20 pm and you're finally at the bowling alley, not even half an hour too late. A new record. And as you were soon told, the party didn't start until 10 minutes later - you were just given an earlier time since they knew Mark would be late in any dimension.
To be perfectly honest, you were surprised that William invited your boyfriend, yet kept quiet to not worry him any further. But a few weeks prior you tried to get them acquainted, and of course William had pestered Mark about his counterpart's fate - until the latter finally confessed having gruesomely killed him at his father's request.
You reassured him that it was William's fault for riddling him with so many uncomfortable questions, and that he shouldn't have asked if he can't handle the truth. Seems you were right at least, there's a reason they were best friends across so many timelines.
The two of you were the first to arrive, before the actual birthday boy even, and still you needed to coax your boyfriend - who was currently spiraling - inside like one would lure in a timid animal.
You could only imagine what went through everyone's mind as they entered one after anothe - especially since not only them, but also Amber and her new partner had come. Feeling the anxiety radiating off of him, you remained at your boyfriend's side, squeezing his hand ever so slightly to remind him you're not going anywhere.
"Kinda awkward, huh? The relationship dynamics are all over the place" William teased, before turning around and busying himself with playing. "Try to act like adults, I'm busy destroying all of you with my skills."
"You wish!" Eve seemed the least rigid out of all of you, jumping up and materializing a custom bowling ball as she joined the couple. At least she seemed approachable...you'd rather not want to be on the receiving end of such a powerful being's wrath.
To be perfectly honest, seeing the original Mark - your former and hopefully soon again friend - after all this time wasn't nearly as strange as you imagined it'd be. You were glad to see him of course, but other than that you felt nothing but a siblinglike bond between you - the heartache and unrequited love you had felt for so long had vaporized completely.
He wasn't your Mark after all.
A few drinks later the mood loosened up eventually - at least for those of you who could still be affected by alcohol.
"They seem to get along surprisingly well" Amber noted, taking a seat next to you and clinking her bottle with yours, before nodding towards the two Marks conversing in the background. "What are they taking about?"
"They're complaining about the animation of the new Seance Dog season, I think?" You roll your eyes and both of you break out in laughter. "It was the first thing he did after the whole war. Made me sit through the entire thing in one night."
"Glad to hear our world's Mark is not the only hopeless nerd" Eve commented as she joined you two, now effectively trapped in between Mark's ex and his current girlfriend.
You took a deep, shuddered breath, before trying to explain yourself. "Eve, hear me out, before you say anything, I didn't-"
"I know" she interrupted you anyways, shooting you a sympathetic look. "I think we all understand. No matter how crazy the situation is, I think we're used to stuff like this by now..." You huffed an uncomfortable laugh, but she was right wasn't she? "Amber and I have been through similar things not long ago. I had a crush on Mark when they were still together, but we talked it out and are still friends."
"Why would we even be mad?" Amber added, "You never acted on your feelings and respected our relationship with Mark."
"Still, it's just...weird, isn't it?" You're fidgeting with your fingers, eyes darting between your boyfriend and the floor. "I mean, I'm dating a different version of Mark, that's just-"
"But he's his own person. It's not like you're setting for him just because you couldn't get the original, right?"
"Of course not!" you blurt out mildly upset, though you had also once accused your boyfriend of using you as a rebound. "He's not a replacement. He's himself. Even though they look alike and share similar memories, my Mark is different in so many ways...I didn't even plan to, we just happened to fall for each other."
Yeah. It may have started wrong, but the two of you got to know each other beyond your unhealthy obsession for the concept of your other variants.
"I'm glad to hear that" Eve and Amber both lay a hand on your shoulder, proclaiming they're very happy for how things turned out for you and the alternate Mark...
...but were rudely interrupted by the TV volume increasing due to emergency news about a villain rampaging in a nearby city.
"Mark!" all three of you yell in unison, and both of them flinch at the sound and rush towards you.
"We may need to give them nicknames..." You chuckle at Eve's idea, turning your attention to your partner. "Maybe I should call you 'Sebastian' from now on, so we can distinguish you two better?"
"Whatever you say, babe!" he chirps like the lovestruck fool he is, before realizing what was going on. "Oh. I'll go take care of it!" He turns to the original Mark, determination present on his face. "You can stay with your friends."
"You mean our friends" the original corrects him, and both crack a appreciative smile at each other. "And I don't think so. How about we go together?"
"Sure!" his counterpart chants happily, giving you a last quick embrace from behind before going outside. "Should be quick work with the two of us, see ya soon!"
Later this night the two of you were entangled under the sheets, long since stripped of any clothing as you enjoyed the warmth of each other's body. Your boyfriend absentmindedly caresses your skin, raising goosebumps as his fingertips trace little paths across your curves.
"Sooo..." you ask curious, now facing him while you pepper countless kisses across his face. "Did you enjoy the evening after all?"
"You have no idea" he admitted, feeling as content with himself as never before. "It's been forever since things felt so...normal. Also..." His thumb gently stroke your cheek and you eagerly leaned into his touch. "Mark said that our- uh, his mom and brother want to meet me."
"Oh?" Seems like things were progressing even better than you anticipated. "Well, what did you say?"
"I couldn't object even if I wanted to. Opened my mouth and he directly cut me off by saying something like 'what's one more half-viltrumite to accept into the family?'"
"Yeah, sounds like them." You snort with laughter, tears of happiness forming in the brim of your eyes. "But I'm glad, really. There's so many good people who welcome you into their lives now. You are so, so loved, do you know that?"
Mark leans his forehead against yours, briefly closing the gap between your lips. "All thanks to you" he claims, his voice wavering with almost worship-like reverence.
"No, that was all you." He tends to take all the blame but rarely gives himself credit. After the tragic turn his life took, throughout all the pain and loss...in the end he chose to do what's right.
If anyone deserves a happy ending, it's him - and you will make sure he gets it.
"Do you think Angstrom will return one day?" You ask cautiously and in an instant your boyfriend has securely cradled you against his chest.
"Of course, that bastard is tough. Being driven by insanity does that to a man, I know what I'm talking about." His joke only caused you to frown, but the sanguine smile plastered on his face was contagious nonetheless. Not to mention you were too drunk and tired to argue anyway. "Don't worry. This time we're two Invincibles, and I'll make sure nothing happens to this world. It's my home now...because you are on it."
Mark proceeds to rub a soothing pattern between your shoulderblades, draping the blanket over both of you as he watched you slowly drift into sleep. He leans in to plant a last, lingering kiss atop of your temple, closing his eyes as well to indulge in this peaceful closeness.
"...maybe I should be thanking Angstrom, for making me meet the true love of my life..."
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ozzgin · 1 year ago
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Request/Idea-
Male Yandere Lawyer x Female Embroider Reader (a lady who works as a tailor is fine too)
Imagine a man falling head over heels for that newly employed lady who hand embroiders beautiful handkerchiefs in a luxury shop he visits to get his custom suits! And he just trying to coax her into dating him, marrying him, and becoming his stay at home wife (and mother of his children eventually) 🥰🤭
Age difference? I need some DILF Daddy energy more in my life (but don’t make him an actual father…yet)
P.S. I adore your OCs and writing. And your artwork is way too fucking good! You’re art is just *chef’s kiss* infuckingcredible
-👘
Yandere!Lawyer x Embroiderer!Reader Headcanons
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Ooh, you know what this reminds me of? I have a yaoi volume from Scarlet Beriko, “Queen and the tailor”, about an interior designer that visits a legendary tailor whose suits will supposedly help you achieve success. The tailor turns out to be a scary looking, blunt man but nonetheless extremely talented. I liked the premise a lot, so it’s definitely interesting to try out a different perspective. In this case I have the image of a patient, soft-spoken reader and a hurried, short tempered lawyer. Comically different but in a way that eventually works out, you know? Also thank you for the kind words! Featuring a Reader that is blissfully unaware the lawyer she just stared dating has their entire life together already sorted out. Content: female reader, age gap, older yandere, obsessive behavior
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Your eyes begin to hurt mildly, so you look out the window and blink repeatedly, trying to refresh your poor sight. Such detailed works always strain you terribly, but you love seeing the finished result. Others must, too, given your handkerchiefs are often sold out the very same day. Right before your needle pierces the silk canvas anew, the door opens with a burst and you jolt. An older man in a suit, arguing loudly over the phone. He’s drumming his fingers over the counter, eyes darting around in search for an attendant. You know the type quite well, so you hurry over with the hoop still in your hand. “Might I help you with anything?” You mouth discreetly. He turns to you, stares for a couple of seconds, and promptly ends his call.
Out of all the places, he certainly didn’t expect regretting his rusty, unpolished flirting skills in a luxury tailor shop. Yet here he is now, clumsily mumbling something about his new suit he’s come to pick up and wondering how to connect that with your number. The name’s the easy part, as it’s neatly and conveniently printed out on the little badge pinned to your collar. Everything else, not so much. You excuse yourself and return moments later with his order. Shit. You tilt your head, confused by the delayed response, worrying whether you forgot something. Next time. He’ll figure it out for sure next time he comes here.
If there’s one good thing about his career, it’s that his eyes have been trained to spot every detail. For example the embroidery hoop you gently held while speaking to him, so he knows exactly what his next custom order will be. Truth be told, he didn’t anticipate your popularity and long waiting times, but a calculated raised tone with a sprinkle of intimidation has convinced the employee to assign him to you as earliest priority. Whether he can flirt remains to be seen, but arguing with others? Child’s play.
“Thank you for coming again today.” You bow slightly and extend the gift bag. “Although, I must say…I’ve never seen you using these before. What has caused your sudden interest in handkerchiefs?” Rather bold of you to begin such conversations, but your curiosity is too great. No matter how hard you try, you can’t imagine why a blunt, nonchalant man like him would abruptly become passionate about embroidery. A lover? You smile faintly at the idea. Whoever it is, they’ve taken quite the challenge upon themselves. The lawyer frowns at the inquiry. It seems you’re just as observant as him. Maybe this shall be the pretext he can finally cling onto. So he presents it in the factual truth you’d hear in a courthouse: it’s his excuse to see you. You raise your eyebrows in surprise. Well now, isn’t it just silly? He could’ve simply asked. Buying countless expensive handmade items instead of plainly confessing his intentions…He stumbles, flustered. The same man whose ruthless reputation has even reached your humble ears is anxiously awaiting your response with a deep blush on his face.
The childlike innocence doesn’t last long. You’ve agreed to date him and that’s great, but he’s a man with little time that has known exactly what he wants for many years. When he laid his eyes on you he didn’t imagine cheesy coffee dates as you discuss your favorite color and cautiously breach the topic of intimacy. What’s the point? He’s already certain he’ll spend the rest of his life with you. Skip the unnecessary steps. On the other hand, you’re not as cooperative as he’d wish. Truly, the tangible proof that opposites attract. You’re always calm and take your time with everything. It’s almost frustrating how easygoing you are. When asked when you’re moving in with him, you just smiled and wondered out loud what could be wrong with your small studio above the shop. Marriage? Good question, you never thought about it.
Oh, the irony. Last time a client was being particularly difficult, your lawyer boyfriend pulled him out by the collar under the mortified stares of the other attendants and shoppers. The exact attitude he himself would’ve shown before, yet this time it’s different. Of course it is, it involves you. His thin patience runs out if it’s you. That’s all there is to it. Can you blame a man for following his heart? They say you should always chase your dreams; he prefers hunting them down efficiently, and the shotgun is pointed in your direction. His sweet, exquisite prey he can never get enough of.
Finally you agree to move in with him. Your hesitation was maddening and he’d started coming up with downright psychotic alternatives to convince you, such as your studio burning down after a vicious attack of some unknown hooligans. So it was rather wise of you not to push someone that knows the law like the back of his hand, even if you aren’t aware of it yet. He enthusiastically guides you around your new forever home, omitting unimportant details. The spare office he emptied for a future nursery? You’ll get to that later.
He can’t wait to spoil you. See, that’s the advantage of dating an older man. He’s gotten his life sorted out a long time ago. All that was left was finding you. You just need to be a darling and behave. He knows you will. After all, you’re his talented little embroideress that won’t have to worry about anything else ever again.
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thefreakandthehair · 5 months ago
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cabin.
written for @steddieholidaydrabbles | prompts: cabin | wc: 699 | rating: teen & up | tags: steve pov, steve harrington has a crush on eddie munson, good uncle wayne, sharing body heat, one bed, fluff, getting together
Wayne and Eddie have been so accommodating, so kind, and almost embarrassingly welcoming to him joining their annual ice fishing road trip to Michigan that asking for an extra blanket feels criminal. With how much they’ve opened their arms to him after his parents all but ghosted for the holiday season, he’d rather freeze to death in this fucking cabin than dare to ask for something as stupid as an extra blanket. Besides, the cabin is small enough that he and Eddie are sharing a room; eventually, he’ll come to bed, feel how cold it is for himself, and go grab extra blankets on his own. 
He’ll survive for as long as it takes for Eddie and Wayne to finish the spaghetti western they’d been watching when he came to bed. 
Steve’s been through worse. 
Cool moonlight streams in beneath the thick, plaid curtains and illuminates the far wall, accentuating its wooden details and the knickknacks lining the shelves— a collection of small, handmade stuffed wildlife, framed photos of the lake, books with worn spines well-loved over the years. It’s a quiet space, a sanctuary that Steve’s never had even if he might lose a few toes. 
Is the cabin the sanctuary? Or is it the rare time alone with Eddie? 
He tries not to think about how many times he’s thought of this over the last couple years, how often he’s laid in bed imagining Eddie coming to bed with him and not just in the ways that make him squirm and sweat. He’s pictured it a hundred times over: Eddie sneaking in beneath the covers, trying not to wake him up but it’s not like Eddie has ever been smooth a day in his life. Steve would wake up from a light sleep, turning over to welcome him in and pull him close, wrinkling his nose against Eddie’s frizzy curls as he buries his face in Steve’s neck. He’d listen to him breathe, feel his body grow heavier and heavier against Steve’s and fall asleep to the even cadence of his heartbeat. 
Steve takes a deep breath and shakes his head, focusing instead on the organic spirals and swirls of the logs that make up the cabin walls. With heavy-lidded eyes that grow heavier despite the cold, he traces the markings and imagines patterns and pictures in them the way he had the starts as a kid. One looks like a moose without its antlers, another like an abstract palm tree. He doesn’t find a third one, and falls asleep trying. 
When he wakes up a couple of hours later, Steve’s warm. 
Extra blankets, soft wool, weigh him down and he sighs into the comforting presence that engulfs him. One tattooed arm rests over his hip and another squeezes beneath his pillow, a hand outstretched with silver rings that cover each finger and gleam in the slivers of light that continue to creep in between the curtains. Blinking his eyes open and biting the inside of his cheek to make sure he’s not dreaming, Steve realizes the warmth he’d woken up chasing is Eddie. 
Do I move over? Does he realize I’m not a pillow? Does he actually want this the way I want this? Did I die of hypothermia after all? Does he— 
“You think really loud, Steve,” Eddie whispers into the dark, his lips moving against Steve’s hair as he squeezes him gently around the middle. “Is this okay?” 
“Mhm,” Steve hums. “You’re so warm.” 
“Good, you were shivering when I came to bed.” He feels Eddie chuckle behind him, quiet breaths against his neck. He wants to turn around, to tuck himself into Eddie’s comfort and maybe just never leave. 
“Didn’t wanna bother you or Wayne for another blanket. Kinda glad I didn’t now,” Steve admits, words slurring as his shoulders sag. He wiggles back, trying to get impossibly closer. 
“We’ll talk more about that in the morning.” Eddie squeezes a knee between Steve’s and tangles their legs together. 
Steve nods wordlessly, pulling the top blanket further up beneath his chin. 
The last thing he remembers before drifting back to a dream that has no chance of rivaling reality is the feeling of Eddie’s lips against his temple. 
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akutasoda · 8 months ago
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hold my hand, lean on me
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synopsis - jiaoqiu adjusting to domestic life with you
includes - jiaoqiu
warnings - gn!reader, spoilers for 2.5, angst w/ some comfort, fluff, maybe ooc, wc - 1.3k
a/n: i actually cannot get this darn foxian out my mind :( shouts to @thelightofmylife for some vv helpful pointers and information ^^ tbh i feel like this is just 1.3k words of word vomit HAHA
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the healers finished informing you of the situation, thanking them you then closed the door to the shared abode. a sigh you didn't know you were holding back escaped alongside a glance down to the papers the healer's handed over. you could read them later, the news followed by the details of it wasn't exactly a pleasant thought, if anything it might be a final push for the tears to start falling.
your thoughts were distracted by the sound of hesitant, shuffling footsteps. turning around, you were met with the sight of jiaoqiu standing idly not too far from you - almost as if he was taking in the surroundings, although now it was more him trying to piece together the memories of what it looked like.
jiaoqiu had arrived back at the yaoqing not too long ago, admittedly rather late, but the luofu's alchemy commission had kept him for a while. he'd been forced immediately to the yaoqing’s alchemy commission as they were now the ones responsible for his treatment plan for the future. a short talk with them had then led to him being escorted back home. to you.
upon arrival, some of the alchemy commission healers explained to you about the entire situation. they kept it short but soon handed you a full document containing everything from “patient’s injuries” to “doctor’s post-charge advice” - each and every sentence pained you more and more, you refused to acknowledge what would've happened if moze hadn't found him, you would have to thank him later.
the healers had asked you to take upon the responsibility of looking after him at home, and in most day to day life scenarios - at least until he adjusted properly. they asked you to keep strict to the “post-charge advice” as otherwise it probably would cause more harm to him, making his healing process longer and maybe even worsening it beyond healing.
“jiao-ge” you called out, to let him know that you were still near. it pained to see the somber look on his face. the last thing jiaoqiu saw wasn't anyone, anywhere or anything he loved. no. it was something he hated, someone he loathed in unfamiliar territory surrounded by no-one he knew.
now he stood in familiar territory, with the person he loved the most. but he couldn't bask in the sights or even see you. all he had was memories to cast images in his mind, to help pretend that nothing was wrong and that he could see what he remembered.
you knew that he wouldn't want you doting on him. jiaoqiu needed to adjust, to learn how to go about his life as usual and you overly fussing over him would only probably annoy him and prolong that.
it had been a long day, any proper conversations could be held tomorrow. to no surprise, jiaoqiu insisted he could get ready and do everything by himself. you granted him that independence. eventually, admittedly with some help, you two were ready for sleep. and even though you were right there beside him, jiaoqiu never felt further from you.
---✩
the process was slow. nobody would've said that it was going to be anything other than that. jiaoqiu very clearly wanted independence. he didn't want to seen as a burden, he chose to do this, and knowing that people were constantly doting on him instead of continuing with their lives made him feel awful.
one of the first things you did was help make your shared abode more compatible with his needs. an easy step was making sure that everywhere was clean and free of obstruction, normally moze always
showed up and helped with cleaning as well. another step was helping jiaoqiu become able to navigate the home on his own, mainly he acted on memory but you needed to make sure that where he frequented was always obstruction free.
occasionally you could hear a bump or hurried shuffling from the room over, each and every time you dropped what you were doing and checked up on him. it was never anything major and if anything it always resulted in jiaoqiu silently cursing at the piece of furniture he walked into.
you two always adopted a verbal calling system at home. should you need to leave the room he was in, you would tell him exactly where you were going and what you were doing - that way he knew where you were. jiaoqiu would also inform you of where he planned on going just in case something happened or he got lost.
although, admittedly, for the first couple of weeks jiaoqiu stuck to you like glue. to him, it was a way to quickly adjust and therefore he wouldn't have to be a burden for long. however jiaoqiu subsequently had developed a rather interesting habit, one neither of you addressed - you because you thought it was sweet and didn't want to embarrass him, him because he didn't want to admit it.
and that was him using his tail as a guidance. at home, it was either curled around your waist, wrist or leg. in public, it lingered around your wrist, so much so that it constantly tickled you. it was a way of him making sure you were there with him, you hadn't left him and he was okay.
although most admittedly it was worse at night. he would hold you close, an ironclad grip that usually you would ask for him to let up but you knew he needed this. tail curled around your waist, preventing you from escaping. in his opinion, you helped him sleep easier, much easier than any fragrances he was prescribed.
however, this always came with a risk. due to residual lupitoxin still in his body, jiaoqiu became frequently prone to nightmares which plagued him constantly. everytime his mind was tricked into believing that the borisin were waiting, patiently looking for an opening to get revenge.
he wakes up because of them, drenched in fear and swear, and because he's so fearful the lupitoxin can take hold easier. suddenly he's tricked into believing that the borisin have found him. unbeknownst to the fact that it's you. so you sometimes take the liberty of sleeping away from him, but then he wakes up to an empty bead but he can hear someone in the room over and when he finds out it was you, sleeping away from him, he becomes consumed with guilt.
a major change for him was his inability to cook anymore. jiaoqiu was determined to do so with his impairment but he needed to learn. nowadays you cook with him. instead of being hushed out of the kitchen, you stood closely beside him, handing him the tools he needed, telling him where you put them so he could find them again on his own.
gently reminding him to lay off the spices when he requested more, he was to avoid spicy foods at all costs for the time being. a hard change, one that he absolutely despised but he knew better than to go against a doctor's order. helping him go out and buy ingredients, listening to what he told you and carrying out the tasks diligently.
---✩
and that was a shortlist of changes. you were very happy to accommodate anything for him, so long as he felt comfortable and loved. it wasn't uncommon for jiaoqiu to experience major lows, it was only natural and you needed to be there for him.
to listen to him, to show him that the support he needed was always a simple ask away - you didn't want to push to dote on him for many reasons. but that was different to showing genuine care and love to him when he started seeing himself as a useless, dependent person.
life would be different. for a while or maybe even forever, perhaps feixiao would strike lucky in her search for a healer that knew how to help. but for now, you two would have to learn how to adjust. to be there for eachother.
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taglist - @little-miss-chaoss, @frankiesteinn
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r3starttt · 1 year ago
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SHOW ME HOW
Read this or DNI
virgin!reader x ellie williams
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SUMMARY: you thought the love you felt for ellie was in a platonic way, but maybe deep inside you the answer was already there, just waiting for it to be revealed, in a dream that Ellie is willing to help you with.
CW: smut, virginity loss, pet names (pretty girl, babe, baby, good girl), first kiss, corruption, thigh riding.
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It’s been aproximately ten years since you first met her, Ellie Williams, your best friend and the person your whole family adores probably as much as they adore you. The only one that knows everything about you, the one that brings your true self, the one that’s seen almost everything.
You’ve been friends since forever, best friends. The type to have sleepovers, to hug and hold hands, cuddle and be all the time together, do everything together. And of course people said things and thought things about it, about how close you were and how best friends don’t to that, but the answer you two gave was always “we’re like family” and it was credible, enough.
It wasn’t a lie though, or so you thought since it was her idea to give the answer. She’d come up with most of the plans, most responses, most of everything. Not because you never suggested anything but because she’s way more stubborn than you are and there’s no way she let you take the big decisions, there’s also no way at all that she takes no as a response and you’re the biggest people pleaser she’s ever known.
And again, it’s been years of friendship, years of seeing each other in all type of ways for many different reasons. Years of what seemed like endless nights of talking nonstop, or days even. Months when there was no school or job or anything to do but be with each other all the time unless Ellie had plans with other girls “friends” that she’ll end up bragging about later. So you knew everything about each other, you’d tell everything detailed, you trusted each other.
And she’d always assure you that everything she did with or for you was for the better, same applied for her, in different ways of course. She’s never been problematic or mean or anything like that, but she was the one to make you smoke and drink for the first time in your life. And you, you only made her listen to your boring music for hours or have the cute and boring plans as she calls them. But at the end of the day, is all fair, you both do what’s best for each other based on your different needs.
That’s why you love her so much, and until this week you’ve thought it was pure platonic love, the one that you feel for your family, and she’s family. But she changed everything, everyone said it’ll eventually happen, and you always, always prayed to god that It didn’t, you failed.
Ellie spoke for hours about this new girl she’d just met, something casual as usual, but apparently it stocked to you because later that day you had a dream about it. And it doesn’t really bother you to have a dream like that, not even because she’s in it, because it doesn’t mean anything right? But it felt too good and too real to forget or ignore or let go. And the more you think about it, the more you keep feeling like it might actually mean something.
Because she was in fact hot, attractive in all possible ways, and she’s not just hot but also pretty, delicate in her way. She’s smart and sweet and knows you incredibly good, and she’s always supportive. And she shows she cares about you, even when she’s all awkward and shy about it she’d do anything to let you know she cares about you as much as you care about her.
And there’s nothing else that you love more than that, and now probably nobody else that can make you feel it, you won’t let anyone else try to fill that space. It’s just not the same even if you tried. It’s not Ellie.
So now that you’re currently at her house in her bed, cuddling, you’ve been thinking about this while situation, how to address it without being awkward for you and without being too explicit as well.
She doesn’t mind it, she knows you’ve had thoughts like this about girls before, but you’ve never done anything romantic with anyone before. Not even kissed anyone or hold hands, nothing. Not because you’re innocent or afraid but because you haven’t found someone worth your first experiences.
“What’re you thinking ‘bout?” you can feel her hands rubbing circles on your back as she speaks, suddenly stopping and letting go of her phone, making you groan. You’ve been watching random shit in her phone for hours, trying to keep her busy from reading you. “Nothing” your hands move unconsciously tighter around her, pressing the side of her stomach and making you feel the small laugh that your very fake ‘nothing’ had elicited in her.
“You’ve been zoning out, I thought you wanted to sleep but you’re clearly not tired, so” she let go of you, slowly readjusting herself on the bed so that she could properly rest her back on the headboard “what is it? Mhm?”
“It’s something sex related, you know it’s all awkward f’ me el” you shifted your eyes towards her half leaded ones, furrowing at her corky smile “see? you’re already laughing at me and I-“ your voices overlapped, making you stop talking first “You gotta find yourself a boy or girl or whatever. If you keep hoping for the one worth your body then you’re gonna fucking lose your mind” little does she know, you thought, laughing at her comment and motioning your hand as in a silent ‘forget it’
“I mean it” Ellie spoke again, clearly determined to make you speak “It’s your fault, maybe if you stopped telling me every detail of all the girls you ‘relieve stress’ with then I would keep being an innocent girl” you positioned your hands together, as if you were praying. Now sitting in front of her.
You stopped the moment she hit your arm, rolling your eyes “You have no innocence in your body, you’ve always been a fucking mess, specially with people” before you could say anything about it she spoke again “Tell me, you know I don’t care” she shrugged her shoulders, making a small pout. She looked particularly pretty today.
“Did you do something today? y’ look different” Ellie rolled her eyes, letting out a exaggerated groan “eyeliner maybe, now stop avoiding and tell me about whatever wet dream you had now” yup, there she was, best friend that knows everything. And the stupid friend that besides being people pleaser knows shit about lying.
“I fucking hate you” a pillow thrown by you made her open her eyes again, chuckling at how obvious you were. “remember what you told me the weekend? I dreamt about it… but you were there and it felt wrong” you mumbled the last words, audible enough for Ellie to understand. She didn’t care, neither did you, well, you tried not to care much. But your body reacted before your mind would let you do anything so you felt already sweating and practically burning. And again, she knew and she noticed, but didn’t care.
“Why? didn’t I fuck you good enough? I’m not worth your body either?” Ellie’s characteristic sheepish smile formed on her face as she got closer to you, leaning on her elbows and tilting her head, mocking you. “I’m not gonna give you details, I’m just saying I feel wrong… it doesn’t mean anything but-“ “it means something, don’t be a pussy and accept you might feel like fucking your best friend”
Hearing the words out loud was less frightening than you would expect, maybe it was Ellie’s voice but the idea wasn’t as disgusting as you felt it was. Not wrong either.
“Stop it, alright? you know I would never” her eyes felt like they were piercing your body, like they could read your mind, like she could eat you alive any moment. And the closer she moved to you the more stupid you felt “Ellie, please” you tried pushing her away once she was practically on top of you, she was playing of course, and she would stop. “You seem to like it, tell me what you dreamt of, Mhm?” Or maybe she meant it this time.
You weren’t sure what to do or say, she’s never played like this with you, and you’ve never even kissed anyone. Yet before you could try anything she laughed. Her hands were pressed on top of yours, sinking in the mattress along your bodies. And her face was so close to yours her mocking laugh brushed your cheeks. You were craving her now.
She let go of you, resting her body against the headboard again and shifting her eyes towards the sides of the bed, looking for an empty space on the wooden tables to place her phone. “Come here” her hands patted her lap, spreading her legs to make some space for you.
And so you did, crawling to her lap and sitting comfortably on it, positioning your legs in between hers. Ellie’s hands slowly cupped your face “I’m doing my job as a friend, this doesn’t count if you don’t want it too, yeah?” a small laugh brushed her lips, mocking your noticeable lost eyes that were wandering all over her face, from her eyes to her lips as she spoke.
She’d made a mess out of you already, without even touching you. But her tenderness, her voice, her body, the way she felt snd smell, everything had a specific effect on you that had been hiding for a long while. It was like drinking for the first time.
Her lips pressed on yours, it was a tender kiss, sweet and gentle. It didn’t last long “it’s okay, it’s only natural baby” her hands moved from your face to your thighs, caressing every inch of them in the most delicate way ever. Nothing you could ever imagine on your own.
So you kissed her again, now with an idea of what to do but letting her guide your every moves. Her tongue eventually got involved as well, dancing with yours and filling your mouth with the most delicious motions ever. Again, nothing you could ever imagine in your own.
You could feel the heat and wetness increase in between your legs, ashamed for getting like this so fast but too focused on Ellie’s body to actually care. She purposely lifted the leg you were sitting on, shaking it the moment she felt her knee against your cunt. “You can move… it’s alright” she mumbled in between kisses, leading your waist with her hands so you could grind on her.
You knew what she liked, based on everything she’d told you before, so you did what you could, moaning on her mouth as she liked it, and letting her guide you as well. You added pressure on your own, riding her leg practically, gently jumping on it whenever you felt like you needed more.
“Yeah, just like that baby. You’re doing so good” her hands tucked your dress on your panties, right above your waist so you could move freely. Then she pushed you closer, making you rest your head on her neck. And you took the chance to do something you’ve dreamt of, tasting it and leaving marks on it along wet kisses that kept making her as wet as you.
You could hear her small whines in your ear every time your kisses an grinding combined, she could cum just by your touch, and so could you. But what was the fun in that?
“What did you dream?” her hands moved back to your ass, guiding it over her thigh, slowly. “Uhm…f-fuck” you couldn’t speak properly, too focused on the sensation “your fingers” you managed to say. It was pathetic for both, to be enjoying this so much. It didn’t feel right, but it didn’t count right?
“That all?” you shocked your head, feeling a knot of pleasure forming on your stomach and your legs getting weaker at every movement Ellie guide your body to do. “I was…on my knees” too shy to say the words out loud you gulped, hoping she’d understand “yeah? what happened first?” The grip on you tightened the moment she noticed you getting closer to your climax, making every move painfully slower “Y-Your fingers… please”
“What a good girl, already begging” her hands grabbed your waist, tight enough to make you stop “take it off, I need to see you whole or I won’t do anything” she gripped your dress as she spoke, pulling the hem of it. You hesitated before doing it, this was new for you, and for the first time ever you felt genuinely innocent with her, so dumb and ashamed of yourself.
Her lips took you out of trance, pressing them on your temple and murmuring something in between “it’s okay” kiss “you can” kiss “trust me” kiss “please baby, just let me see you” and now her eyes were in front of yours, she knew how to use the puppy eyes. You nodded, feeling Ellie’s hands slowly move to the back of your dress, unsipping it.
You stood on your knees, in between Ellie’s legs. You could feel your dress loosening as you heard the zip lowering down your body until it stopped at your lower back. You helped Ellie remove it, raising your arms so she could finally take it off, revealing your bare chest immediately, accompanied by your panties, that were removed as well.
Being completely naked in front of Ellie felt right, it didn’t count, this whole experience. But how you wish it did. The way her excitement is revealed by her eyes, wandering all over you and taking note of every mole, mark, anything that’s in your body and it’s usually unnoticed. Her eyes, her freckles, her hair, her touch and voice, all so gentle yet so hungry. She’s starving already, and you adore that.
Her breathing became erratic as how inviting you looked, she needed to touch you, to hear you and savour you whole.
Ellie tapped the sides of your waist, pushing you carefully and somehow not breaking eye contact. She need you but couldn’t get you as she wanted in her current position, so once she got you sitting in front of her, patiently waiting, she started to take her clothes off.
Being at her house, with you, she wasn’t wearing more than a hoodie she’s probably been wearing for days already. and her usual pair of boxers, already drenched under some black shorts. Ellie was quickly, motioning her hand once she finished so you could sit on her lap again.
You obeyed, sitting on her and waiting for her to instruct your movements again. Both her index and middle finger brushed your lips. You looked at her, furrowing your brows a little “open” Ellie murmured, opening her own mouth as well.
She slowly introduced them inside your mouth, unconsciously smiling at the pretty image in front of her. You took them in, brushing them with your tongue and covering them with your saliva. They moved in and out of your mouth, slowly. “good girl”
Her free hand was resting on your thigh, making small circles near your hip bone with her thumb. You wanted to move, you needed it, but the fear of making a mistake was bigger, it wouldn’t count though, but something inside you felt like it might.
Her fingers came out of your mouth, you noticed the string of saliva connecting them with your lips, letting out your tongue one las time to cut it. “You’re being so good f’ me baby” her voice came out slightly husky, breathing brushing your lips as she spoke.
Her hand trailed down your body until it came to your clit, massaging it painfully slowly and making you sigh in pleasure. She started slow, making small circles on it as her mouth kept occupied by your hardened nipples, her eyes kept fixated on you as she did her every move.
You tried pressing yourself on her, delicately coordinating your body to her motions and rubbing yourself against her fingers.
Her fingers stopped moving on your clit suddenly, moving now up and down your folds until she decided to finally let you have what you wanted, teasing your arousal by pressing the tip of her fingers right above it.
“Ellie…” you whimpered, desperately pressing yourself again her fingers. A ‘pop’ made you look down, realizing how badly she’d been covering both of your breasts with saliva “what baby?” her chin pressed in between them, looking straight into your eyes “I need you, I want you to fuck me” you begged, tightening your fists besides each side of your body, fully desperate “please”
“So pretty…asking for me” Ellie nodded, bringing your face closer to her as her fingers made their way inside you, motioning in and out of your aching cunt. She started slow and gentle, caressing your back until she heard those pretty moans you let out, and her name in small whimpers.
So she did it faster. And you did your job too, riding her fingers at some point eventually, the way they curved inside you, her knuckles hitting the outside of your cunt whenever she did it too hard and how deliciously she kept on rubbing your clit with her thumb. It was impossible for you to keep immobile.
“El, fuck…gonna cum” her smile widened, moving her face to your neck and leaving a tail of wet kisses on it, she murmured a ‘yeah?’ to which you nodded desperately, both increasing its movements until the pleasure became overwhelming, making you press you whole weight on Ellie as you got to your climax. Covering her whole hand in your juices.
“You made a mess pretty girl, mind me helping?” her fingers kept on moving some seconds after you came, abruptly removing them, eliciting a small whimper out of your lips.
You could feel your inner thighs covered in wet, she tried cleaning some of it with the rest of your thighs before moving her hand up your face again. You already knew what to do, licking them and flavoring your own taste.
She moved her face closer to yours as well, removing her fingers out of your mouth once you licked your juices off and pressing her lips on yours one last time “gotta clean you, yeah? you did good, just rest babe”
-
reblogs are very much welcomed <3
Check this !!! FREE PALESTINE
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justgiulia · 4 months ago
Note
HIII I HAD A THOIGHT THAT HAS BEEN KILLING MY MIND AND I NEED TO TELL IT TO SOMEONE OTHERWISE IM GNA EXPLODE
get this . everyone chilling at ramshackle dorm doing their own thing, yuu (and grimm by extension), ace and deuce sitting by the table talking about whatever crosses their mind
Eventually the conversation escalates to birthdays and holidays and ace asks how old Yuu is. Azul interjects with saying Yuu's age from the contract they signed a few months ago, but then Yuu pipes up and tells them that they're one year older than that.
Theres a small moment of confusion until it dawns onto Deuce that Yuy's birthday was a month or two ago and they never spoke a peep about it. Not even to grimm!! And when asked, Yuy makes an excuse like "that was when __ was kind of close to overblotting and I didn't want to make it about me because that'd be so nitpicky—"
It was based off an audio i heard and idk if i want to write it into a short drabble for myself i probably cant since im only on book 2 ueue). But like. its a fun prompt methinks. what would all of them do when they find out Yuu deliberately didn't say a thing about their birthday
🎊
You didn't tell them about your birthday?!
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characters: Ace Trappola, Deuce Spade, Azul Ashengrotto, Grimm.
author's note: let's just pretend I didn't just post a request from almost 2 years ago 😭 I'm deeply sorry. also, I apologize for not uploading anything this month but I'm working on something big 🙏
warnings: none
Ace Trappola
For his Immediate Reaction, he is offended in the most dramatic way possible. He gasps like you’ve committed the ultimate betrayal.
Once he processes that you skipped celebrating because of an overblot situation, Ace feels a bit guilty. He won’t outright admit it, but his teasing becomes a little softer as a result.
He insists on throwing you an over-the-top, borderline ridiculous party.
“I’m talking about party hats for everyone and cake so big Grimm can’t finish it—well, maybe.”
His idea of a celebration is half a joke, but you know he’s secretly serious about making it memorable and deep down, he’s touched by how considerate you were and wants to make sure you never feel overlooked again.
Deuce Spade
Deuce is visibly upset, almost like he’s the one who forgot your birthday, feeling terrible for not realizing sooner.
“But Prefect, birthdays are important! You deserve to be celebrated!”
He gets way too worked up about making it up to you, like it’s a mission, he might also wonder if he’s a bad friend for not noticing your birthday had passed. He’ll pay more attention to your subtle hints in the future (even if you weren’t giving any).
"I won’t let this happen again. Next time, we’ll do something amazing. I swear.”
You swear his sincerity makes you feel just as guilty for not telling him.
Azul Ashengrotto
Acts unbothered on the surface but lowkey blames himself for not catching on sooner, especially since he prides himself on knowing useful details about everyone (and blackmailing them).
Azul will subtly try to make it up to you in his own way. Maybe he gives you a small but meaningful gift with a nonchalant...
“Consider this a late birthday present.”
He might tease you about this later saying something like...
“Oh, Prefect, you wouldn’t hide something as important as a birthday from us again, would you? It’s not wise to keep secrets from your allies.”
But the teasing is his way of showing he cares.
Grimm
“You didn’t even tell me, your best pal?! Unbelievable!”
He paces around the room dramatically, occasionally glaring at you with exaggerated betrayal.
As much as he tries to play it off as annoyance, it’s clear he’s genuinely hurt that you didn’t trust him with such important information.
“I live here! I’m supposed to know these things!”
His solution to everything is cake.
“Alright, let’s bake a cake right now. Wait, no—you bake the cake, and I’ll taste-test it!”
Grimm will insist on celebrating your birthday retroactively, even if it’s something small. He’ll demand a party and act like it’s all for you, but deep down, he just wants to feel like he’s making things right.
Overall, they argue over how to properly celebrate your next birthday. Ace wants chaos, Deuce wants heartfelt, Grimm just wants food, and Azul suggests something elegant but practical.
Despite their differences, they all agree on one thing: they’re not letting you keep secrets like this again. You can expect everyone to be hyperaware of your birthday next year—and they’ll make sure it’s unforgettable.
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pucksandpower · 1 year ago
Text
Black Magic
Charles Leclerc x witch!Reader
Summary: famously non-superstitious Charles takes drastic measures to break the Monaco curse
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Charles rubs his temples as he stares at the phone, mentally rehearsing how he’s going to convince you to meet with him. He knows it’s a long shot — from what his mother told him, you’re not exactly eager to use your … abilities, as she called them. But he’s desperate at this point after years of the Monaco curse haunting him.
He takes a deep breath and taps the call button. It rings once, twice, three times before you finally pick up with a cautious “Hello?”
“Y/N? Hi, this is Charles Leclerc. I was given your number by my mother ...” His voice trails off as an awkward silence stretches between you.
Finally you respond, sounding confused. “Pascale? But why would she ...”
Charles rushes to explain. “She said you might be able to help me with … well, with breaking a curse of sorts. One that’s been plaguing me for years at the Monaco Grand Prix.” He pauses, cringing a little at how ridiculous he sounds saying it out loud.
There’s another long pause before you let out a soft sigh. “I should’ve known this would happen eventually. Listen, I only do that kind of thing for family emergencies these days. Curses and spellwork … it’s not something I take lightly.”
“I understand,” Charles says quickly. “But you have to know what the Monaco Grand Prix means to me. It’s my home race, the most meaningful one on the calendar for me. And yet, every single year something goes wrong — mechanical failures, crashes, bad strategy calls, communication issues. It’s like I’m cursed to never win it.”
You’re silent for a moment, seeming to consider his words. “I’m aware of the … situation,” you say finally. “But even if I did agree to look into it, breaking an actual curse isn’t something that happens overnight. It would take time and effort.”
“I’ll give you anything you need — time, money, whatever it takes,” Charles insists. “Just … please. I’m desperate here. My heart can’t keep taking these kinds of blows.”
Another pause, then a resigned sigh. “Okay, fine. But you have to promise to take this seriously and listen to what I say. No skepticism, no brushing it off as some kind of joke. This is real to me.”
Relief floods through Charles. “Yes, absolutely, I promise. When can you come by? I’m staying in Monaco until the race next weekend.”
“I’ll need a little while to prepare,” you say slowly. “But … I can try to come by Tuesday? We’ll need to talk more about this in person.”
“Tuesday is perfect,” Charles agrees eagerly. “Truly, thank you for this. I’ll make sure you’re well compensated for your time.”
You let out a small huff of laughter. “You keep your championship hopes, I’ll keep my soul. We’ll call it even.”
A bemused smile crosses Charles’ face at that. “Whatever you say. I’ll see you Tuesday?”
“Yes. I’ll be there Tuesday.” You hang up abruptly, leaving Charles staring at the phone with a mixture of hope and trepidation. He has no idea what he’s getting himself into … but he’s willing to try anything at this point.
Two days later, you show up at Charles’ apartment looking rather apprehensive. He ushers you inside, eyes raking over you with obvious curiosity. You’re younger than he expected, maybe mid-twenties, with a casual air and slight frame that doesn’t exactly scream “all-powerful witch“.
Still, he tries to withhold any skepticism as promised. “Thanks for coming. Can I get you anything? Some wine, or ...”
You shake your head. “I’m fine, thanks. I’d rather just get down to business if that’s okay.”
Charles nods and you both settle onto the couch, an anticipatory silence stretching out. Finally you clear your throat. “So. Tell me more about this … curse.”
And so he does, relaying in exhaustive detail the string of unlikely disasters that have befallen him at nearly every Monaco Grand Prix since he started in Formula 2. Crashes, mechanical failures, pit stops gone wrong, you name it … it’s like the racing gods have it out for him every year on his home streets.
You listen patiently, nodding along, your expression unreadable. When he finishes, you’re quiet for a long moment before speaking. “You know curses and superstitions have existed in motorsports for decades, right? It’s a high-adrenaline, high-risk environment … prime territory for that kind of thing to take root.”
Charles frowns. “Are you saying you don’t believe me?”
“I’m not saying that.” You shake your head. “I’m just … managing expectations here. Breaking an entrenched curse, if that’s even what this is, isn’t easy. It’ll take much more than a couple of days of spellwork.”
He lets out a frustrated breath, scrubbing a hand over his face. “So you’re telling me you can’t help.”
“I didn’t say that.” You eye him levelly. “I’m saying this is going to require time, patience, and an open mind from you. If you’re willing to put in that kind of commitment, then I’ll do what I can. But you have to go into this knowing it might not work.”
Charles is silent for a long moment, weighing his options. Finally he nods. “Okay. You’re right, I’ll stop being skeptical and doubting this. I’m ready to fully commit, whatever that takes.”
A small smile flits across your face and you nod. “Alright then. I’ll need to gather some supplies first, do you have anything personal I can use? Something meaningful, something that represents your driving?”
Charles scrambles up to rummage through his drawers, finally emerging with a battered red fireproof racing glove, handing it over to you. “Will this work? My godfather gave it to me when he first started teaching me to kart.”
You take it with a nod, turning it over in your hands. “It’s perfect. I’ll need to attune it and prepare a few … components.” You glance up at him. “This may take me a day or two. But after that, I can try to get a sense of what we’re dealing with.”
He nods, feeling that flicker of hope rekindle in his chest. “Sounds good. Let me know if you need anything else.”
You rise, slipping the glove into your bag. “I will. And Charles?” You hesitate, looking almost nervous for the first time since you arrived. “I know we’ve only just met, but … I want you to understand how serious I’m taking this. Messing with forces like curses … it’s not something I do lightly. If I can’t help in the end, it’s not for lack of trying, okay?”
Something about your sincere tone puts Charles at ease and he nods. “I know. Thank you for this … really.”
A shy smile ghosts across your lips before you slip out, leaving Charles alone with his doubts and hopes alike. Over the next couple of days, he tries to distract himself with race prep and strategy meetings, but his mind keeps drifting back to you and your mysterious preparations. He’s not sure whether to feel hopeful or just plain foolish for entertaining all of this curse nonsense.
Finally, Thursday afternoon rolls around and you arrive once more at his door, looking oddly serene. You accept his offered glass of wine this time as you settle on the couch, clutching the battered racing glove and a few other strange items.
“Okay,” you say, taking a fortifying breath. “I’ve done what I can to attune myself to your energy and prepare. I should be able to at least get a sense now of what we’re dealing with.”
Charles nods, feeling an anxious flutter in his chest as you close your eyes, seeming to slip into some kind of trance-like state. The seconds tick by, tension building in the air around you. Just when he’s about to break the silence, your eyes fly open with a gasp.
“Wow,” you breathe out, looking utterly stunned. “This is … wow.”
“What?” Charles prods urgently. “What did you see?”
You shake your head, almost looking scared now. “I’ve never encountered anything like this. The sheer scale, the power … Charles, this isn’t just some simple bad luck curse. This is dark, powerful magic rooted over years and years. Maybe even generations.”
A leaden feeling sinks into the pit of Charles’ stomach at your ominous words. “So you’re saying you can’t break it?”
“I didn’t say that.” You draw in a steadying breath. “But it’s not going to be easy. Or quick. This is going to take serious ritual work over an extended period of time. I’ll need more supplies, maybe some help from others. It’s … a huge undertaking.”
You look up at Charles, expression grave. “But I think I can do it. If you’re willing to fully commit and see this through, no matter how long it takes or what I need from you, then I’ll put everything I have into breaking this curse.”
Charles stares at you for a long moment, feeling the weight of what you’re saying. This is so much bigger than he ever imagined. Part of him wants to run from the sheer enormity of it all.
But then he pictures it — finally winning his home race after all these years, the crowd roaring as he drinks in the euphoric feeling. No more bad luck, no more disasters clouding his joy. Just pure triumph.
His jaw sets in determination as he meets your eyes. “Whatever it takes. I’m in.”
A slow smile spreads across your face and you nod. “Okay then. We’ll get started right away. This may get … intense at times. But I’ll be right here with you every step of the way.”
“Thank you,” Charles says fervently. “Truly, thank you for taking this on.”
“Don’t thank me yet,” you reply, something sparking in your eyes. “We’ve got work to do.”
And just like that, you dive into preparation mode — making lists, sending messages, gathering spell ingredients and components that have Charles raising his eyebrows more than once. He tries to follow along as best he can, but it’s like a foreign language to him.
After a while, he can’t help but ask. “So … did you always know you could do this kind of thing? The witchcraft, I mean?”
You pause, considering his question. “It’s a family tradition, passed down. My grandmother started teaching me from a very young age. But I’ll be honest … I never fully embraced it until recently.”
Charles feels himself grow curious. “What changed your mind?”
A strange look crosses your face and you’re quiet for a moment before replying. “My grandmother was ill. The doctors had … given up, more or less. So in desperation, I tried to help the only way I knew how. And it … worked, somehow. After that, it was hard to keep denying what I could do.”
“Wow,” Charles says softly. “That’s amazing. I can’t even imagine ...”
You shrug, suddenly looking almost shy. “It’s a lot, I know. Probably hard to wrap your head around. Which is why I appreciate you being so open-minded about this.”
Charles gives you a crooked smile. “Well, I’m relying on you here. I figure I should at least return the favor and be open-minded.”
A surprising laugh escapes you and you shake your head in amusement. “You’ve got a point there.”
A surprisingly comfortable silence lapses between you, broken only when you glance at your watch. “Alright, enough waiting around. We should get back to work if we want to be ready before race day.”
Charles feels nervous anticipation flutter in his chest again. “You really think we can pull this off that quickly?”
“We have to try,” you reply, already focused and in work mode once more. “Just be prepared … this isn’t going to be easy for either of us.”
Charles swallows hard and nods. “I’m ready. Let’s do this.”
Over the next several days, Charles is swept up in a whirlwind of strange rituals and practices — chanting, incantations, symbolic offerings, things he never could’ve imagined before this week. You lead him through it all with a calm patience, guiding him every step of the way.
It’s completely draining, leaving him wrung out and exhausted every night … but he can’t deny the noticeable shift he feels with each passing day too. It’s almost like a weight, a cloud of dread he’s carried for years, is slowly dissipating. He tries not to get his hopes up, but it’s hard … especially with the way your face glows with quiet pride whenever your eyes meet his.
Finally, the night before the race arrives. You’ve worked practically around the clock except for when Charles had to leave for free practice and qualifying, both of you barely sleeping or eating as you poured everything into breaking the curse.
As the sun sets over Monaco’s famed harbors and hills, you finally seem to pause, taking a deep breath. “Okay, I think … I think that’s everything we can do for now.”
Charles stares at you with a mixture of hope and trepidation. “You mean … it’s done? The curse is broken?”
You exhale slowly, looking suddenly drained but at peace. “As much as it can be, at least. The groundwork is laid, the ritual completed. But actually severing that kind of ancient tie ...” You shake your head. “We’ll have to see what happens tomorrow. I’ve done everything I can.”
Relief and gratitude wash over Charles as he reaches out to grasp your hand impulsively. “Thank you,” he says fervently. “For all of this … I can’t even begin to express how much it means.”
You seem surprised by his emotional outburst for a moment before squeezing his hand back gently. “You’re very welcome, Charles. I’ll be honest, I wasn’t sure I had it in me at first. But you put so much faith in me. That meant everything.”
He holds your gaze, feeling an unexpected sense of connection pass between you. So much has happened in such a short span of time — he came to you a skeptic, but now he feels like he’s been through a transformative experience. And you … you’ve put your entire being into helping him, far beyond any reasonable expectation.
The air almost seems to crackle with tension as you both search each other’s eyes. Then, as if drawn by an unseen force, you start leaning towards each other infinitesimally. Charles’ heart kicks up a staccato rhythm as your faces inch closer together ...
Until finally, your lips meet in a soft, almost hesitant kiss. It’s achingly gentle and sweet, at odds with the intensity thrumming underneath. When you finally part, Charles feels almost dazed, his heart pounding.
“Wow,” he breathes out, unable to tear his eyes away from yours. “That was ...”
“Yeah,” you murmur back, looking equally affected. “It was.”
A silence stretches out as you simply gaze at each other. So much has passed between you in these short days — an entire lifetime’s worth of intimacy and connection. It’s overwhelming and exciting all at once.
Finally, Charles seems to shake himself out of the dazed reverie. Clearing his throat, he says gruffly, “Anyway, um … thank you again. I should probably try to get some rest before tomorrow.”
“Right, of course,” you respond quickly, flushing slightly. “The race. Yes, that’s … probably a good idea.”
An awkward pause hangs in the air before Charles blurts out, “You’ll be there though, right? At the race, I mean? As my guest?”
A slow smile spreads across your face and you nod. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
He returns your smile, feeling lighter than he has in years. “Okay, good. That’s really good.”
With that, and one last lingering look, you gather your things and slip out, leaving Charles alone with his whirling thoughts and cautiously rising hope. He has no idea what tomorrow will bring — triumph or despair. But for the first time in his life, he feels like he’s not facing it alone.
As he climbs into bed that night, his mind keeps drifting back to that unexpected, electric kiss and the connection you seemed to share, if only for a moment. He can’t stop replaying it, the softness of your lips, the warmth of your skin ...
With a groan, Charles rolls over, trying in vain to shut off his thoughts. He needs to rest. Tomorrow is everything he’s been working towards for years — his best hope at finally ending the Monaco curse. And you’ll be there, your faith and magic bound to his dream.
Finally, Charles manages to drift into a restless sleep, his unconscious mind swirling with visions of chequered flags and your smiling face in the crowd. Whatever happens, he knows nothing will ever be the same after tomorrow.
***
The next morning dawns bright and clear, a perfect Monaco day. As Charles gets ready to head to the circuit, he can’t shake the anxious flutter in his chest.
This is it. His moment of truth.
Just before he’s about to leave, a soft knock comes at the door. When he opens it, you’re standing there looking almost as nervous as he feels.
“Hey,” you say with a small smile. “Thought I’d come wish you luck in person. And … give you one last thing for the race.”
You hold out a small silk pouch which Charles takes curiously. Opening it up, he pulls out the same battered racing glove he’d given you days ago, now embroidered with strange runic symbols.
“I imbued it with every protection ritual and good luck charm I could think of,” you explain. “As an extra boost on top of the work we’ve already done. Maybe it’ll help settle those pre-race jitters too.”
Charles feels a wave of affection crest over him as he looks at the glove, then back up at you. “You’re incredible, you know that?” He says softly. “Truly, I don’t know how to thank you enough for everything.”
You duck your head shyly, but he can see the pleased flush on your cheeks. “You don’t need to thank me. Just go out there and get that win you’ve been waiting for, okay?”
“I will,” Charles promises fervently. He pauses, then seems to make a split-second decision, stepping forward to cup your face in his hands. “And when I do … I’m taking you out for the biggest celebration Monaco has ever seen.”
Your eyes widen slightly, but you give a breathless little nod. “It’s a date then.”
The corner of Charles’ mouth quirks up. “It’s a date,” he echoes, letting his thumb brush over your cheekbone lingeringly before forcing himself to step back. “I should get going. But I’ll see you out there later?”
“Wouldn’t miss it,” you confirm, looking almost as flustered as he suddenly feels. “Good luck, Charles.”
He shoots you one last, blazing look before tearing himself away, hurrying out to his waiting car. The entire drive to the circuit, his heart is pounding wildly in his chest. He can’t decide if it’s just pre-race adrenaline or something more … something sparked by you and that searing, promising look you gave him.
By the time he arrives, gets into his race suit and fireproofs, and settles into the cramped cockpit of his Ferrari, Charles is wound up like a tightly-coiled spring. His eyes keep drifting over to the embroidered glove still clutched in his hand, feeling the weight of everything it represents — your devotion, your magic, and the hope of finally breaking free from years of heartbreak.
As the cars are wheeled out onto the grid and the pre-race festivities begin, Charles scans the garage until his eyes finally land on you. You’re standing with a perfect viewpoint, eyes already locked on him, and when you catch his gaze you mouth “Good luck“ with an encouraging smile.
A determination like he’s never felt before surges through Charles’ veins. He’s going to win this race, not just for himself but for you too after everything you’ve sacrificed. Giving a firm nod, he slips the glove beneath his suit and grips the steering wheel tightly, watching the lights flick from red.
And as they finally go green and the cars roar away, Charles leans into the first turn in pure focus and exhilaration. For once, his mind is clear of any doubt or dread about the Monaco curse. He can only think about racing, about achieving his dream ...
And afterwards, celebrating that dream coming true with you.
***
As the deliriously happy celebrations continue around him at Monza, Charles can barely catch his breath. The euphoria of a hard-fought victory is still pulsing through his veins, that cherished feeling never getting old no matter how many times he experiences it.
He’s in the middle of accepting congratulations from his mechanics when he sees a Sky Sports reporter, making a beeline for him with her microphone in hand. Trying to tamp down his giddy smile slightly, he turns to face her.
“Charles! Huge congratulations on another amazing win today,” the reporter gushes as soon as she reaches him. “You’re really hitting your stride this season, what a comeback from the early struggles.”
“Thank you. Yes, the team has been doing incredible work to get me a car capable of winning,” Charles replies graciously. “I’m just thrilled to be able to deliver for them.”
“And for the fans too, who have been utterly captivated watching this gripping title battle unfold,” she continues. “Speaking of which, I have to ask — the viewers have been flooding us with one question in particular recently. What’s the story behind those little symbols that keep popping up on your race suit collar? Some kind of good luck charms maybe?”
At the mention of the embroidered symbols, Charles feels his lips quirking up into a small, unconscious smile. He should have known someone would eventually ask about them — the fans on social media have certainly been speculating endlessly.
“Ah, you spotted those?” He says lightly. “Well, it’s um … it’s actually something my girlfriend does for me before every race weekend.”
The reporter’s eyes widen with obvious interest, scenting a prime bit of gossip. “Your girlfriend? We had no idea you were dating someone, Charles! Do tell us more.”
Charles lets out a slightly self-conscious chuckle, feeling the tips of his ears going pink. He’s intensely private about his personal life, preferring to keep you out of the spotlight as much as possible. But the story behind the symbols is too meaningful to brush off entirely.
“Yes, well my girlfriend prefers to stay out of the public eye,” he explains carefully. “Let’s just say she comes from a rather … unique background and heritage. She has certain talents and practices that are very important to her.”
The reporter blinks at him in obvious confusion. “Wait, is she some kind of … psychic or something?”
“Not exactly,” Charles demurs, fighting back an amused grin at the mental image. “More like … well, I suppose you could call her a witch, of sorts.”
A shocked silence falls over the surrounding reporters who have tuned into their exchange. For a long beat, no one seems to know how to react to such an unexpected revelation. Charles doesn’t think he’s ever seen the media look so bemused before.
Finally, the reporter seems to find her voice again. “A … witch?” She repeats slowly. “As in, like, cauldrons and broomsticks and the whole bit?”
Charles lets out a full laugh at that. “Well, not quite like that, no. But she does practice certain … rituals and magics, let’s say. Most of which, I’ll admit, still seems completely mad to me.”
The reporter’s expression is one of fascination now as she leans in closer with her microphone. “And she does these rituals and … magics ... for you? Before races?”
“Exactly,” Charles confirms with a nod. “She adds protective symbols and charms onto things like my race suit, my helmet, sometimes other items depending on the ritual. It’s her way of looking out for me, of sending some extra luck and security my way on race weekends.”
He pauses, his smile softening unconsciously as he thinks about you. “I’ll be honest, I was pretty skeptical of it all at first. The whole concept of witchcraft and curses seemed ... well, rather far-fetched, you know? But she’s been so devoted to her practices, so sincere in her beliefs about the positive energies she wants to send my way … how could I not start to believe in it too?”
The media seems to be hanging on his every word now, caught up in this bizarre but undeniably romantic tale. The reporter lets out a wistful sigh. “Well, it’s clearly been working like a charm so far this season! Maybe the rest of the grid had better start looking into getting their own race day witches on board.”
A ripple of laughter spreads through the group at that as Charles shakes his head in amusement. “Yes, I can see that becoming very popular around the paddock.”
“So does she come to all the races then, your witch girlfriend?” Another reporter pipes up curiously. “Is she wandering around doing spellwork in the backrooms?”
“Oh, no no, nothing like that,” Charles chuckles. “She prefers to keep things … subtle, let’s say. Just the little symbols and charms. Though she is here today actually.”
The reporter’s eyes light up like she’s just struck journalistic gold. “She is? And does she get to celebrate with you after wins like this?”
A soft, almost shy smile plays across Charles’ lips as he nods. “Yes, whenever her schedule allows she tries to come to the races. And we’ll definitely be celebrating together tonight, just us.”
He gets a slightly far-off look in his eyes, seeming to get lost in the thought for a moment. The reporters watching on collectively hold their breaths, waiting for him to divulge more juicy details about this mysterious girlfriend.
Finally, Charles seems to catch himself, clearing his throat. “But anyway, I should really get back to the team to share this incredible day with them properly.”
The reporter makes one last attempt. “Oh, go on, just give us her name at least? Enquiring minds want to know about this charming race day witch of yours!”
Charles throws her an apologetic look. “You know I have to protect her privacy. All I can say is … she’s pretty remarkable. And she’ll probably hex me if I start giving out too many details about her!”
Laughs and groans of disappointment rise up from the reporters at being denied the full scoop. But they know better than to push Charles too far. With some final shouted congratulations, they gradually disperse, no doubt rushing off to publish their articles about the shocking revelation of Charles Leclerc’s witchy girlfriend.
As the small crowd clears out, Charles feels a light touch on his elbow and turns to find you standing there, eyes sparkling with amusement and fondness.
“Well, you’ve certainly given the paddock something to gossip about now,” you tease lightly. “A charming race day witch, am I?”
Charles makes a show of rolling his eyes, even as his cheeks flush a bit at your teasing. “What was I supposed to tell them? You know how much I hate discussing our personal lives with the media.”
“I know, I know.” You rise on your tiptoes to press a soft kiss to his cheek. “I’m just giving you a hard time. I thought it was … sweet, actually. How you talked about my practices.”
Charles’ expression softens as he gazes down at you. Ever since that electric evening in Monaco when you first worked your magic on the infamous curse (and him), your relationship has deepened into something truly beautiful. At first, he admits he was still somewhat skeptical of the mystical rituals and protective charms you claimed to do for him.
But race after race, as the victories kept mounting with no traces of bad luck or mishaps, he’s become nearly as devoted a believer as you. And it goes far beyond just race day superstitions now. Seeing the depth of your spirituality, your connection to unseen mystical forces, has opened his eyes in so many ways.
He pulls you flush against him, cupping your face tenderly as he murmurs, “I meant every word. What you do … it means everything to me, you know that right? Whether the magic is real or not, your rituals give me a sense of peace and security I’ve never felt before.”
You gaze up at him with those captivating eyes that never fail to make his heart stutter. “I know. And that’s why I’ll never stop doing them for you. You make me feel … connected. Vital. Like my gifts can actually make a positive impact, instead of being some weird family quirk.”
Charles lets his thumb gently trace the delicate line of your cheekbone, drinking in every detail of your beloved face. “They do make an impact, mon cœur. Probably more than either of us can comprehend.”
He draws you into a lingering kiss, one that sends delicious sparks of heat ricocheting through his body. When you finally break apart, you’re both smiling and slightly flushed.
“Mmm, I should really start charging the team for services rendered, if that’s the payment plan,” you joke breathlessly.
Charles arches one eyebrow at you. “Trust me, they would go broke in a week trying to keep up.”
You let out a full laugh at that, the musical sound making his heart swell. He loves this — the moments of playful intimacy and banter, feeling so incredibly grounded and content with you. Before you came into his life, such tender domesticity always seemed like an impossible dream given his lifestyle.
Pulling you close once more, he nuzzles into the soft skin of your neck, inhaling your familiar scent. “Let’s go home,” he murmurs huskily. “I have a victory to properly celebrate … and I require your particular skills again tonight.”
You shiver slightly in his arms, drawing back just enough to fix him with a heated look. “My skills are always at your service. Shall we summon a portal or ...”
He huffs out a laugh at your playful tone, secretly loving when you tease him about the more fanciful aspects of witchcraft. “Why don’t we just take the car for now? No need to alarm the locals by apparating in the middle of the paddock.”
Chuckling, you lean up to steal one more lingering kiss before murmuring, “Deal. Now let’s get out of here before that reporter comes sniffing around for more gossip.”
Taking his hand, you start leading him away from the crowded pit lane and back toward the nearby motorhomes. With every step, Charles can feel the thrum of excitement building in his veins, fueled by much more than just the adrenaline of his race win.
There’s a steady warmth pulsing deep within him now, a sense of gratitude and contentment that suffuses his very soul. Ever since that fateful day in Monaco when he let you into his life, everything has shifted into vibrant new focus.
He’s never been superstitious, not really — he prides himself on being practical, logical, leaving little room for spiritual or religious beliefs. And yet … with you, a whole unseen mystical world has opened up to him in the most extraordinary way. Even if he still doesn’t fully understand the intricacies of your rituals and practices, he knows with certainty how they make him feel.
Protected. Centered. Empowered.
Loved, more deeply than he’s ever experienced.
As you make your way hand-in-hand through the chaos of post-race celebrations, trading giddy grins and teasing jokes, Charles feels it all shining outward from his very core — past the fame, the accomplishments, the never-ending pressures of being an elite athlete. With you by his side, he’s found a serenity and sense of self far beyond what any championship could provide.
So tonight, as you cuddle together and let your energies flow over him in that uniquely intimate way, he’ll pour every ounce of devotion and love he feels right back into you. Because in the end, that’s the most powerful force of all — one that transcends even the wildest of your spells and charms.
As long as you two are bound together on this path, no force in the universe could ever curse him again.
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waokevale · 2 years ago
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Something Something Doppelganger~
As I promised, I shall explain my idea of Forneus being a former vessel of the red crown!
First of, the most obvious reason, Narinder might have grown frustrated with his siblings killing off all his former vessels, so he figured, perhaps one akin to him in resemblance the most, would make them more conflicted.
It worked perfectly of course, and his siblings hesitated moreso in harming her.
The only one who didn't hesitate as much was Leshy, due to obvious reasons, sensing her primarily off on smell, he could tell that she was a different feline.
However, Narinder didn't grow fond of her solely based on her appearance alone, she was a very competent and vicious one, (before pregande that is) and managed to defeat the youngest Bishop. Although, Narinder being merely a century or few into his imprisonment, still struggled with his guilt and ordered her to spare him. (Though, Leshy definitely got mocked for being weak by his siblings later) ✌️ 🐸)
Forneus was one of the most loyal vessels. Still is, despite all that had happened. (Which is also canon, she is one of the very few NPCs aligned with him. It is specifically stated that she is the only other character who's alignment is "Worships The One Who Waits" the other one being Ratau, who himself was a vessel)
Forneus VOLUNTARILY gave up the red crown, unlike Ratau who was (technically) demoted for his insubordination. When she had her kids she realized... maybe there's more to life than just that, so she seeked penance.
Narinder was upset with her choice, but decided not to punish her. Although, he did say that she would lose all her powers and semi-immortality. She was persistent.
Forneus begrudgingly, but willingly gave up her children, once Shamura promised they'd be taken in by her god. She doesn't know all the details though, as stated in canon.
Shamura made her immortal again, and gave her ||something || to hold onto, if she ever got a chance to see her kids again, it would be returned to its rightful owner.
She did! She doesn't fully begrudge Narinder for them being kinda fucked up, but she is dissapointed. To be fair, he did go insane in there. (He does eventually apologize to her for that, as does Shamura..maybe)
_____________
And that's all I have for now! I'll need to hyperfixate more on this. :>
@17magpiesinatrenchcoat
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minarisplaything · 1 year ago
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Tour Break ft. Lisa and Jennie
pairings: Jennie Kim/M!OC, Lisa/M!OC rating: Explicit word count: 3.7k summary: A few months have passed since your last encounter with Jennie. When a tour stop brings the girls near your university, they decide to pay you a visit. PART ONE HERE. tags: size kink, semi-public sex, stomach bulge, rough sex, footjob A/N: may have gotten a bit carried away. hope yall enjoy!
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After that night with Jennie, the following weeks leading up to their tour changed for you completely. Instead of preparing to go off to university, you began spending more time with your sister and her friends. It was an effective way to lose that embarrassed little sibling complex. Mostly though, it was because being around them offered more chances for Jennie and you to sneak off and fool around.
And boy did you two fool around. You had to have easily been the luckiest person in the country during that time. Eventually, though, it came to a close as they went back on tour and you went off to university.
You kept in touch through texts and sneaking in the occasional FaceTime when possible, but it wasn't until the end of your spring term that you got to see them again. It wasn't even a personal visit; it just so happened they were playing at the local stadium near your university.
You had received a text from Jisoo that you were to meet them for lunch later in the day. As happy as you were to see your sister, you found yourself anxious to see Jennie. It had been more than a few months now. Would she still be interested in your arrangement? Would she still be interested in you, or had the thrill disappeared? You supposed there was only one way to find out.
You walked through the front doors of the restaurant you were to meet them at, and the hostess led you to the table where they were waiting. Immediately, you were greeted with high-pitched voices and limbs swallowing you into hugs.
Okay, maybe you hadn’t completely gotten rid of the little sibling complex.
"You look so different with all that scruff!" Rosie exclaimed, running a hand over your chin, her fingers brushing against your stubble. “I bet all the girls on campus fall for this.”
“I do alright for myself,” you joked.
Some light-hearted laughter echoed in the restaurant and you found yourself scratching the back of your neck as you stole a look at Jennie. As everyone took their seats you placed yourself next to Jisoo and across from Jennie. You stole another glance at her but, to your disappointment, she seemed to be acting completely normal.
Of course she was, you silently chastised yourself, Did you expect her to suck your dick right in front of Jisoo?
“I want to hear all about it. How has your first year been?” Jisoo questioned, placing her chin on her hands.
"Really? You guys have been traveling the world and you want to hear about how school has been?" you asked.
"Duh! And make sure you leave in all the dirty details," Lisa chimed in, a smirk on her features.
"I think we can do without that part," Jisoo said, her face scrunching up.
"Speak for yourself!" Lisa retorted.
Her words earned laughter from everyone except Jisoo, and you felt yourself slowly beginning to relax. Among her many talents, you found that Lisa was an expert at lightening the mood in any given situation.
"Where do I begin..."
You proceeded to recount the events that had occurred in your first semesters at university. The parties - which Lisa seemed particularly interested in hearing about - the friends, your classes, and even the few girls you had what could loosely be called relationships with. Though admittedly, you might have intentionally overplayed those stories. Judging by the way Jennie’s expression subtly shifted when you told the stories, it had worked. Or, you hoped it had.
Christ, you were getting bold. Playing games with one of the most desired women on the planet?
"Wow, I can’t believe my baby brother is sounding like an adult," Jisoo said, placing a hand on yours as you finished. "You’re practically a man now."
You scoffed before pulling your hand away teasingly. "God, when did you get so sentimental?"
She laughed, hitting your arm playfully before turning back to the group.
"To be fair, I think he’s been a man for a while now," Jennie spoke up for the first time, her gaze zeroing in on yours.
You played it off with a laugh, but you could feel your face heating up. Beneath that, there was a tinge of fear. Was this payback for provoking her? It had to have been. Of course, Jennie had always been flirty, however where it had been innocent in the past, you now had a history. If it could be called that. And you weren’t exactly sure how Jisoo would react to that history. But you had prodded her, now you had to deal with whatever came next.
You took a sip of your drink, recovering your composure before changing the direction of the conversation. "So, how is the tour going? You guys are on the last leg right?"
There was a collective nod before Jisoo spoke, "It’s been wonderful. I really wish mom and dad would have let us take you to some of these places."
"Why do you say – THAT!?"
The last word came out almost as a high-pitched yelp and you immediately went into a coughing fit to try and mask it. Jisoo looked concerned, as did Rosie, while Lisa bore a smirk and Jennie seemed almost indifferent.
"Sorry, I must have gotten something stuck in my throat, go on," you coughed.
Jisoo patted you on the back to make sure you were okay before continuing her answer. You, however, were no longer listening. That was because there was currently a foot pressed against your inner thigh unbeknownst to anyone else. When you looked across the table, you had no doubt about who the culprit was.
Truth be told it was exhilarating and terrifying all at the same time. Jennie stared back at you, the slightest hint of a smirk on her lips. Her eyes, meanwhile, were practically daring you to react and say something. When you didn’t, you swore her smirk grew more bold, her foot pushing higher against your thigh.
"…Well, we did New York in December, it looks amazing…" Jisoo continued on.
You nodded your head, trying to remain focused as Jennie’s foot rubbed up your leg until she reached the height she wanted. Her toes curled slowly as she moved to press against your crotch. At this point, you were already starting to get hard and had to move your chair in more so Jisoo or Rosie wouldn’t see.
"How was the crowd overseas? Good?" you asked, trying to keep the conversation and any attention away from what was happening underneath the table.
"Oh, they were amazing," Jennie spoke. When you turned your attention to her, she was simply smiling as normal, despite that the sole of her foot was now rubbing your erect cock through your jeans. "There was so much excitement and energy. I literally felt like the crowd was just going to explode."
While the other girls just nodded in agreement, you closed your eyes briefly. Lisa began speaking but at this point, you were barely registering what any of them were saying. Jennie’s foot continued to jerk you off over your clothing, rubbing you as furiously as possible without being noticed. At one point, her toes pressed against your zipper and you wondered if she just might free your cock from its constraints. That would be terrible. So why did you want it to happen so badly?
“Are you okay?” Rosie asked, giving you a glance.
"Huh? Oh, yeah, you're fine. You just need a drink," you said, trying to give your best smile before sipping your water slightly. You could see Jennie smirking out of the corner of your eye. You still didn’t know what she was playing at but you also weren’t sure you cared at this point either.
Rosie gave you a concerned look but they soon carried on with telling their tour stories. Your mind, however, was focused somewhere else. Jennie’s toes had worked down the zipper of your pants and had slid inside just enough to allow more contact with your hard cock, her sole rubbing against the stiff length as she jerked you off.
You tried to keep yourself together. You really did. But eventually, it got to be too much and you leaned back in your chair. You tried to disguise it as simply stretching but judging by the look Jennie was giving you, you doubted that was how she took it. You felt the pre-cum dripping onto her feet as she continued her assault. Fuck, you were going to cum. There was no way you would be able to hold out much longer.
"Hey, are you okay?" Jisoo asked, turning to face me. "You look like you're burning up."
"Y-yeah, I'm fine. Maybe just a little hungry. Are the appetizers here yet?" you said, hoping your excuse would work.
"Actually, that's a good idea. I could go for some food too," Rosie chimed in.
"I'll check on the status," Jennie spoke up. "I need to use the ladies room anyway."
You let out a sigh of relief when Jennie's foot left your lap. But the relief was short-lived as you watched her stand up and make her way around the table. You held your breath, wondering if she would say anything but, instead, she placed a hand on my shoulder and squeezed it before walking away.
The contact was brief, and it could have meant nothing but you knew better. You were certain of it. She was just making sure that the message was sent.
"I'm going to head to the bathroom as well," you said, standing as you held your napkin over your lap awkwardly.
You quickly scurried away, following after Jennie, catching up to her before she made her way to the bathroom. "What the hell was that?"
Jennie looked at me with her eyebrows raised, an innocent expression on her features. Her words, however, were anything but, "What? Did none of your little campus sluts do that for you?"
"So you were jealous then?" you asked.
"Do I have something to be jealous about?" she said simply before making her way towards the ladies' room.
Maybe it was indignation, maybe it was anger; hell maybe it was just because you were still horny. Whatever the reason you found yourself following Jennie into the bathroom. As the door swung closed behind you, you grabbed her by the arm and spun her to face you. Your lips pressed hard against hers in a heated kiss.
Christ. It had been so long that you almost forgot how soft her lips were.
Almost.
You pulled her tightly against you, pressing your body hard into hers. Your tongue invaded her mouth, dominating her as the kiss intensified. Your hand traveled down her body, slipping under her skirt and grabbing a hold of her firm ass. You could feel that she wasn't wearing any panties.
"Hoping this would happen were you?" you muttered against her lips.
“Baby, I’ve been going commando for months now,” she whispered. Her breath was hot against your ear causing your cock to twitch from the sensation.
“God I’ve missed you” you muttered.
Not wanting to wait anymore, you got rid of your own pants, sliding them down past your knees. Jennie positioned herself up, using the sink as a counter and spread her legs for you; her wet, glistening pussy looking up at you in the eye.
You gripped the base of your cock, positioning yourself at her entrance and thrust yourself inside her.
"Fuck~!"
Jennie was still just as tight as you remembered and your hands immediately went to her hips. You started pumping her hard and fast, your hips snapping back and forth as her legs wrapped around your waist.
"Oh my God~" she groaned, wrapping her arms around your neck and pulling you into a deep kiss.
Her tongue slipped into your mouth, exploring the familiar territory.
Your lips locked in a frenzy as you both tried to express months of pent up sexual frustration. Jennie's pussy gripped you tight, squeezing and milking your cock as you fucked her.
“You thought you were cute with your little act earlier didn’t you?” you grunted as you pulled out and slammed back into her with more force than before causing her to squeal in surprise, and pleasure.
“You…liked it…didn’t you,” she shot back, her words coming out in short pants. Your sudden change in roughness caused her to move one hand to the sink, gripping tightly as her body shook each time you entered her.
Rather than answer immediately one of your hands moved to her throat, choking her lightly as you continued to fuck her, "It was embarrassing."
There was a brief moment of surprise on Jennie's expression before a devilish smile crept across her lips. "Someone's gotten into a few new kinks while I was away." Her hand rose to cover over the top of yours, imploring you to squeeze tighter as her fingers curled against your hand.
Not bothering to respond, you focused on the task at hand as you quickened your thrusts. This was different from your usual dynamic with Jennie but you didn't hate it. Far from it in fact. And clearly you weren't alone in that sentiment. You could feel her pussy clenching around you. Her breathing became heavier, her chest rising and falling, breasts heaving, and her skin flushed. It was an expression you hadn't seen in a while.
"You're enjoying this aren't you?"
Jennie nodded eagerly, biting down on her lip, stifling a moan as her orgasm was building.
You could tell she was close by the way her pussy tightened around your cock and the look on her face.
"Go on then, cum for me, Jennie" you grunted, releasing her throat and leaning down to kiss her once more.
As soon as you released her she gasped for air, her head rolling back against the mirror as she let out a loud cry, her body convulsing around you as she came hard. Her juices spilled down your shaft as you kept pounding her through her orgasm.
It was the sexiest thing you had witnessed since, well, the last time you had fucked Jennie. Finally she relaxed and elicited small moans as you continued to slide in and out of her, chasing your own release, knowing it wasn’t far now.
“I thought I’d find you two in here.”
Your mind registered the presence of a third voice, but your body was too far gone. Thrusting into the singer’s sweet pussy a few more times you felt your balls tighten. Grabbing Jennie’s slim waist you pulled her close against you before you erupted into her. Your hips jerked erratically a few more times as your seed shot to her womb.
“Christ…you weren’t lying about how much he cums, Jen,” the third voice said.
Unbeknownst to you, her eyes were fixated on your fluids currently leaking out of Jennie. It took another moment but finally your brain began to function properly again. You tore your gaze away from Jennie, to see Lisa standing there, hands on her hips and her tongue licking her lips.
“Lisa! Shit!” You might’ve jumped backwards were it not for Jennie’s legs still being hooked around your waist. “It’s not what it looks like.”
“You mean you’re not balls deep inside one of your sister’s best friends?” Lisa asked, manicured eyebrows raised.
You hesitated for a moment, “Okay…Maybe it is exactly what it looks like.”
Jennie, who had finally started to recover as well, brushed aside her sweat soaked bangs, “Relax. You don’t have to worry about Lisa.”
“You told her?”
“I came to my own conclusions,” Lisa answered. “We were both there on that dance floor, remember? Jen just got to you first.”
There was something undeniably hot about that. That two of the most desired women on the planet had wanted you, going so far to outmaneuver one another to get to you first. Briefly you wondered what it might’ve been like if that night had ended with the two of them. Boldly, you wondered if you might be about to find out.
“First come, first serve, Lili,” Jennie grinned. She pushed you back so she could slide from atop the sink, your release dripping down her thigh.
“You’re not jealous?” you asked, remembering her earlier reaction when you mentioned seeing other girls.
Jennie rolled her eyes. Her hand reached down, fingers curling around your cock as she slowly stroked you to cut down on your refractory period, “Are you comparing Lisa to one of these campus sluts?”
“N-no, not necessarily,” you moaned.
“Good,” Jennie kissed your cheek. “Then bend her over this sink and fuck her like a good boy before your sister starts asking questions.”
Yep. That did it alright. You were back to full mast from those words alone. You turned your gaze to see that in the time you had been talking to Jennie, Lisa had stripped out of her clothes. Your cock gave a twitch at the sight. Jennie was hardly the only one of Jisoo’s friends you had fantasized about. It was all three if you were being honest with yourself. Now here you were staring at Lisa’s toned, perfectly fit body.
Lisa bit her lip, smiling and giddy with excitement as she stepped towards you. She turned, wiggling her tight ass against your crotch as she looked over her shoulder at you, biting her bottom lip, "Don't be shy, stud. Jennie's told me plenty of stories."
That made you curious. It also made you not want to disappoint her. There was no sense of pressure, maybe because you just had your balls drained and any nerves along with it. Instead what you felt was an excitement and eagerness to get to it. “Are you sure you can handle it?” you asked, feeling confident.
Lisa merely winked at you and gave another shake of her tight ass, “Why don't you find out.”
You briefly spotted Jennie out of the corner of your eye, her eyes practically glowing with anticipation at what would come next. One hand grabbed Lisa's slender waist while the other pushed against her back, bending Lisa over the sink. She giggled as she gripped the white porcelain for balance, moaning when she felt your cock start to probe her entrance.
You found her already dripping from her sex, running your cock along her folds before roughly sliding into her. "Shit" you moaned, the feeling of her tight sex enveloping you from the start. Your thick cock was splitting her in half and you could hear Lisa moan as her head fell forward.
"Are you okay?"
"Don't you dare stop," she told you. "Give me all of it, stud."
You didn't need any further instruction. You kept working your cock into her until you finally bottomed out inside of her, your balls pressed flush against her rear. It was heavenly. How many people around the world wanted to do this? Yet you were the one fucking the Thai princess in a restaurants bathroom.
You reached forward, one hand wrapping around Lisa's neatly done ponytail and pulled back her head raising. Her eyes locked with yours as you began to slowly withdraw your cock before slamming back into her.
"That's so fucking hot," you heard Jennie say.
Had your attention not been solely focused on fucking Lisa you might've spared her a glance. As it was, you were entranced by the talented dancer; your rhythm steadily increasing as she propped herself up against the sink. Fucking Lisa’s lithe, fit body was a whole different experience. Each time you moved inside of her, you felt like you might break her. Like your cock might punch through her cervix and bulge against her stomach. And yet Lisa took every inch like a goddess.
“Shit. Shit. Shit” she chanted, her body shaking with each thrusts, her head still pulled back, “You’re going to fucking break me. Is that what you want, stud? You want me to walk on stage with a limp from being fucked so good, huh?”
Your cock swelled inside of her at the thought. The filthy words driving your passion. You watched your reflection in the mirror, pounding the global starlit from behind. Truth be told you almost didn’t recognize yourself. In the span of a few months you had gone from drooling over your sisters friends and nearly coming yourself just from some provocative dancing to taking charge and fucking Jennie and now Lisa.
It made you realize her words were exactly what you wanted to do.
"That's exactly what I want to do," you grunted in response. One hand moved to slip around her throat, squeezing lightly as the other still held her ponytail, "I want my cum dripping down your leg when Money plays and you're dancing on stage."
Lisa moaned, struggling to maintain a state of coherence let alone form a proper response to your words. Fortunately, Jennie was more than willing to provide commentary as her fingers played with her own clit.
"Yeah? Are you going to sit in the front row to make sure?" she asked.
"That's right," you grunted.
You didn't know if you'd ever be able to look at Lisa the same again after this. Let alone when she was on stage performing an array of provocative moves. But logic no longer mattered. You were completely lost in the moment, saying anything and everything as long as it heightened the moment.
Too much. It was too fucking good. It was —
“Oh f-fuck,” Lisa let out, her eyes rolling back.
Her body tightened, her walls squeezing your length as her orgasm hit like an ocean wave on a stormy night. You weren't far behind, in fact as she shuddered against you you continued to thrust into her tight pussy. You buried yourself deep inside of her when your own release finally hit, painting her insides with your seed.
By the end of it you were utterly spent. And you weren't the only one either. Lisa slumped against the sink, letting it support her weight.
"I think I...I need a few minutes," she babbled.
Jennie licked her fingers, cleaning them of her own release. "Don't worry, stud. I'll take it from here. You go back before Jisoo really starts to ask questions."
You could only nod dumbly as your cock slipped out of Lisa, your cum seeping out of her hole. Needless to say, this had been one hell of a reunion.
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saintsandsorcery · 6 days ago
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Gale x Tiefling!Tav, but Gale isn’t all that familiar with Tieflings. Of course, he thinks Tav is absolutely stunning – even if he never really considered sharp teeth to be something he’s into before -  he is a little nervous, though. He knows near to nothing of the infernal - except for summoning one from the hells, maybe. And he really, really doesn’t want to leave a bad impression by accidentally knocking his head on their horns when he tries to kiss them.
 So he does what he usually does when something isn’t as clear to him as he’d like; he buys a book. But bookshops or libraries simply aren’t a commodity on their travels, at least not until they reach Baldur’s Gate, so he makes do with what he can find. He gets hins hands on one eventually, of the cheap romance, cliché title, badly written kind - aside from that its pure smut, but it’s pretty useful for interpreting Tav’s emotions based on the movement of their tail.
Eventually, Tav and him become closer, close enough for Gale to share the multitude of books he carries around with them. So one day, while Gale is distracted, Tav goes through his collection and finds that book. At first, they plan to tease him about it, endlessly, possibly for the rest of their lives, if Tav gets their way. They flip through the pages, intent on remembering at least one line from the book to innocently quote back to him over dinner later, as they stumble across several annotated pages, comparing details from the book to Tav – how darkvisison makes them more sensitive to light, how Tav might prefer a dimly lit environment. They read through every note but halt upon finding a whole list of possible compliments, all crossed out, a simple ‘I’m in love with you.’ Written at the bottom.
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jlheon · 10 months ago
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𝓒𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐄 ୨୧ 𝐏𝐉𝐒
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(𝓹airing) — pjs x fmr ꣑୧ 𝓼ituationship ; angst & fluff (𝔀ordcount) one thousand five-hundred 𝓹eng's note. for my event! + new layout 𝓫ookshelf
𝓼ynopsis. a year later and you still miss park jongseong
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you have a recurring dream that happens maybe once a week.
always about the same guy and living the same day. you’ve had it so often that you can recite every little detail that happens if someone were to ask you. though the only person who knows about this dream you keep having is your dream journal. which admittedly seems pointless now if you keep having the same dream, there’s no variety. 
you’ve stopped recording your dreams since it's the same every night that you have a dream worth remembering. you only dream of him.
you wake up next to him, a child that you can only presume is yours jumping on top of you excitedly. she calls you mom and him dad. the three of you get ready, eat breakfast, he kisses you goodbye, and you take your daughter to school.
you drop off your daughter and go to your ordinary office job. then in the late afternoon you drive to pick up your daughter and go home. dinner is premade from the night before and you two wait for your husband. 
a nice family meal. he’d do the dishes while you’d carry the load of laundry.
then eventually you fall asleep in his arms. 
whose? park jongseong, or jay.
you met him in your last year of university. so about two years ago now, but it’s been a year since you saw him.
you knew from the start that he was only spending a year here. 
so the time you spent with him was admittedly short. 
meeting through a mutual friend and spending a lot of time in group settings for the first semester. you still aren’t sure what shifted but you and jay started hanging out in the last semester before graduation alone, which bled into the summer after university until he left the country. 
in those last few months, there was an undeniable amount of chemistry and tension between the two of you. 
it stayed unspoken as you both knew that soon you would be miles apart when jay would leave to start his job for working for his father and you would be running around the city looking for a job, a relationship didn’t fit in the picture. 
you just kind of just acted like a couple without the label or conversation. 
it did more harm than good to your yearning to be with jay. he held you at night like a boyfriend would, took you on dates, and kissed your face. 
you can’t wait to get married. ever since you were a child you’ve fantasized about meeting your husband. when you met jay you were certain it would be him.  
jay is business driven. he wants to continue his father’s company and focus on work for most of his life. jay isn’t looking for anything serious, he doesn’t want to settle down just yet, and he doesn’t do long distance. 
your plans for the future never once intersect with the other. you don’t want the same things. 
you can’t stay away from him though.
one night, the week before jay’s flight, you had the closest talk to about what you were. a conversation that should have happened earlier.
“do you think you’re going to date when you move away?” you ask him while eating the dinner he had made you at his apartment. 
“no,” jay says bluntly, taking a sip of his drink. “i don’t think there’ll be anyone there for me.”
“do you really want to work for your dad?” you pick up a bite from your plate. 
“there’s no one else but me,” he shrugs. “i’ll have to take over eventually, so i might as well start now.” 
“i guess you’re right,” you mumble. “is there anything that would make you stay?”
“you.” jay says honestly. “but we both know it’s too late.”
“i guess you’re right,” you sigh, playing with your food, your appetite is gone. 
“sorry,” he apologizes. “not to get your hopes up or anything.”
“it’s fine, i figured you’d say that,” you get up and walk towards the kitchen to put your dishes in the sink. 
the next day you ask jay when his flight would be leaving at the airport. he tells you that his plane leaves at twelve. you make sure you’re there by ten. 
“jay!” you call out in the crowded airport when you spot the back of his head, his birthmark on his neck showing it’s him. 
“____!” he quickly gets up from his seat at his gate. “you’re early?” 
“i wanted to get you alone before everyone else comes!” 
“oh,” jay scratches the back of his neck. “it’s just you that’s coming.”
“what! why?” you say shocked.
“i said bye to everyone else yesterday, i wanted it to just be us.”
“what if you’re forgetting someone?” you frown. 
“i’m not leaving much behind,” jay shrugs. “moving brings me closer to my family and friends”
that bitter feeling started bubbling up inside of you. it was wrong to want to beg him not to leave you but there was a part of you that always wanted to be just a little selfish. enough to make him stay and commit to you, even long distance would suffice for you, but it wouldn’t for him. you knew that better than everyone. 
“oh,” you look at the ground. “are we not friends?”
“that’s not what i meant-” 
“it’s okay,” you can’t fight the frown on your face. “we’re not anything anyways.”
the rest of the time at the airport you sit at his gate in silence. a spot between you both as an invisible barrier. you badly want to leave and forget about jay but you won’t let him go until he has to get on the plane that will take him thousands of miles away from you. 
you want to talk to him but cannot find any words. tongue-tied next to the boy you’ve grown to love in the short remaining semester of your university career. 
jay cannot seem to find the right words either. you’re here right in front of him and he can’t just hold you close for the last hours you have together. anxiously checking the time on his phone leading up to boarding. 
“boarding starts in 20 minutes,” jay says quietly. 
“oh,” is all you can respond. 
“do you want to go for a walk?” he asks, you nod. 
the two of you walk side by side in circles in the area around his gate. in an uncomfortable silence, you are not used to having with jay. 
“i have to get going,” jay pauses, stopping the both of you in his tracks.
you’re voice is still lost, tears brimming your eyes, you can only wrap your arms around his torso and cry. 
“baby…” he whispers, drawing you in closer, if that was even possible. 
you can’t stop crying, hugging him as your vision turns blurry. 
“i’m sorry,” you finally stutter out, clutching a handful of his shirt. 
“for what?” jay asks in genuine confusion. 
“loving you when you said you weren’t looking for anything.”
“don’t say that,” he replies, feeling his own eyes getting teary. “it’s neither of our faults. time just wasn’t on our side. if i could i’d do anything just to be with you.” he says into your hair. 
you reluctantly let go and find your way out of the airport and to your car. once climbing into the driver's seat you let the rest of it out. sobbing until you could no longer produce any more tears. while jay does the same while he gazes out into the sky from his airplane seat. 
jay regrets not trying with you with every day that passes. he knows that the both of you could have made long-distance work but at the end of the day he knows he cannot live up to what you want. so he deems it best to ghost you while he’s in an american state. for work he claims but it seems more like a form of self-torture.
he can keep it together for the first couple of months of work, but soon his father notices something is up. he becomes frustrated with his son’s work, he hasn’t shown any growth in months and seems overall out of it. he sends him back home and tells jay to find himself before he even thinks about becoming a ceo. 
there’s a knock at your door on a late saturday night. you’re slightly tipsy from some wine you had been sipping on, walking to the door calmly with no idea who it might be.
on the other side of your door is park jongseong. suitcase behind him, with a bouquet with your favorite flowers. 
when he sees your face for the first time in a year he can only hope you’ll let him in to make up lost time.
“jay?” you say in disbelief, rubbing your eyes and wondering if the alcohol has already taken over your system. “you’re home?”
“i'm sorry if i'm coming home too late,” he says handing you the assorted flowers.
“why are you here?”
“‘cause this time i won’t be late.”
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nightscythe · 2 months ago
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legions reaction to their primarch wooing you?
but i would love love love to read the more taboo version of primarchs kinks :D
hope you have/had a wonderful day :p
thank you anon hope you have/had a wonderful day too!! i waited for a plumber all day. created this as I waited •⩊•
please forgive me for what this turned into. i have made it less serious that originally planned but it just happened i am so sorry. i live in a fantasy where 30k is sunshine and rainbows. hope you enjoy anyway!! taboo vers. of the kinks will be posted later this week.
this is all pre-heresy. little bit nsfw on one i think so 18+ please.
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lion: there was no evidence, until the very very end stage of his courting, that the lion even had the slightest feeling of love in his body. but when he didn’t react to you approaching him, when he spared a glance at you, answered questions as though he didn’t just see you as another person beneath him. oh. they knew. and no one even dare speak a word of it. no side glances, no reactions. they ignored everything that happened. it was luther who eventually started a conversation about it with some others that same evening, away from the prying ears of their primarch. he’s so fucked. literally. because there’s no way in hell that the lion was the one chasing you. whatever he had said, you’d reciprocated, and if luther knew one thing about the lion… it’s that he won’t let things go that he thinks belong to him. it’s the nightly gossip when they have nothing better to discuss, and the lion really thinks no one has even noticed. 
fulgrim: they were all enthralled by his tactics at first. such elegance, such style, fulgrim spared nothing in making you his absolute muse. but then fulgrim gets them all involved. they are delivering the pottery and jewellery to you by hand, ordered to protect you even (which they didn’t have the biggest issue with, you were nice) – fulgrim wanted to prove that even his finest warriors are on the table for you. and then it became all he talked about. and then, when you had finally been convinced of his love (because he told you his feelings father than gifted you a whole planet), fulgrim’s own ego was so entirely huge that he declared himself master of courtship. and now he’s got classes on how to make someone fall in love with you with guest speakers. eidolon is literally at the front seat, heart eyes, yes my perfect primarch please teach me your ways type thing. vespasian, on the other hand, is just wondering why he was even invited. 
perty: they didn’t dare question their primarch, but they weren’t stupid. the handcrafted tools that he would spends hours on just to give away. the armour customised to a much smaller body. the books he’s borrowedfrom magnus that he has no interest in. vhalen had noticed because he had stumbled on a book his primarch kept detailing interests of yours. connected the dots. didn’t say anything because it wasn’t his place. silently tried to help out by leaving flowers you liked or herbs you needed for perturabo to give to you. never wanted anything in return, but believed that maybe you’d be able to help ground him, truthfully. but forrix? no. this was weak. they were taught to never be weak and this was a weakness to its very core. out of their control, completely inefficient, a waste of time in his eyes. he would never understand why perturabo was doing, but at the very least he wouldn’t say a word – not the same could be said about everyone in the legion though. 
khan: at first it had started with the stashing of treasures he thought may be of interest to you. then, the invitation came. an esteemed guest would join for an adventure. and they were very amused. an esteemed guest? shiban might begin to joke, testing the khan’s reaction. and when his primarch looks up with the slightest smirk on his lips, there would be an immediate laugh. i think you may need to revisit that title my lord, perhaps something with… meaning. though many of the white scars would avoid asking questions, they enjoyed the details of it. it was a new adventure to them, and the khan was leading the way. but shiban would keep seeing this title, esteemed guest, and constantly change it to a new one. warhawk’s chosen was most common, because that’s what you were. and he’d probably be a banging wing man too, but the khan never needed it.  just asks every so often how things are going and reports back to the others.
leman: they’d critiqued you as they watched their primarch try to train you how to protect yourself. with a sword, with a gun, with whatever was around. your own fists even. and you may have been no match for leman, but they were still impressed in their own way. a collective nod between them as you flawlessly replicate something he showed you. it’s when leman has you pinned against the floor and it becomes extremely obvious that he got so carried away that his hard on is pressed against you and you most certainly have noticed. whatever happened next, they weren’t sure. leman’s courting may just have been giving you a taster of what might happen if you accepted his love. they’d all given you privacy to say the least. another collective nod between them, what a majestic man their primarch was. and if you were brave enough? join them for beer as well. 
dorn: it had been a normal day. life was just moving by calmly, not a thing or person out of place. dorn was discussing something about a building, the internal structure, yada yada. it was a really nice day to be an imperial fist. but then his hand reached for your shoulder, and the remnants of a smile fell on his lips as he lead you on to show you something else in the structure, something integral to building. and he wasn’t really wooing you in any sense of the word, but he was opening himself up in a way that only dorn could. he was… trying to impress you? no. archamus believes that there must be reason for this, his primarch is being tactical. you know something. sigismund believes the same. this is calculated and logical. explaining the internal structure must provide a benefit to the legion. perhaps you’re an expert of some kind. the pair don’t ever mention what they saw again, but they do consider what kind of expert you are later down the line when they’re standing outside their primarch’s doors waiting for the consultation to be over. whatever it was, you obviously felt very strongly. 
curze: jago sighs. he’d had to watch his stupid primarch stand outside your window for what seemed like weeks now, neglecting his duties, or anything other than you really, whilst never saying anything. curze didn’t know he was there, but jago was too curious to let it go. he thought you were just another victim, someone curze was taking his time with, but then he realised the whole situation. curze was just watching. staring. felt but never seen. stole an item of your clothing. jago didn’t want to find out what item, but deep down he knew. curze was spiralling, staring into the distance, eyes glued to you even when you looked uncomfortable, but never actually talking to you. so jago takes it into his own hands. sends you directly to curze, makes the primarch speak to you. really, curze is just haunting you, but that’s okay - jago will fill in the gaps, woo you with all his own tactics until you actually start to reciprocate whatever it is curze is feeling. and the rest of nightlords are confused more than anything. does standing in the shadows actually work? are humans that enthralled by primarchs? gendor tries it out for himself, wanting his own partner (or, human trophy). doesn’t work for him but claims it does.
sanguinius: what a pure demonstration of love this is. to see their angel, someone who would fight in battle for hours without breaking, stutter over some words in front of someone? to watch as he fought to keep a conversation going just to hear your voice? his sons are in awe. of you, because how pure must you be to have won the attention of their primarch? but also of him, because it was the most human he had ever felt. they saw his nervous looks, his shy appreciation of your perfection, and valued it deeply. and overtime you’d start receiving flowers from him, handpicked by his sons who saw it as a way to help steer their somehow clueless primarch in the right direction. azkaellon specifically had handed him roses for you, cut from the most perfect bush, claiming it was something romantic that you would appreciate. and you did. and sanguinius was extremely happy when you kissed his cheeks (and the silent celebratory crowd of blood angels watched on in joy). 
ferrus: you’re his personal project. he spent every hour of the day with you, it felt like. improving you, working on enchancements. making you perfect. but then something else started happening. it was no longer pride that kept him going. it was you. and they all noticed. at first he didn’t care for anything you said. now? he listens to every word. like you are another of his brothers, but it’s different, even than with fulgrim. he cares in a way they don’t understand. no one would ever say a thing – they’d all pass their silent judgement on how this went against everything he seemed to stand for. but maybe santor would ask about it just once. not for details, not for questioning. just to confirm. they are different, my lord? ferrus wouldn’t hesitate with his answer. they are everything. what does that even mean? it would never be mentioned again. by anyone. whilst some of them would question his decision internally, most would trust him – their primarch understood weakness, and if he didn’t see you as weak, neither would they.  
angron: does anyone even know what is going on with you? could it even be considered wooing? barely. angron would want to kill you some days, and want to fuck you other days. and somewhere in between he’d just want to be with you. it was within that where kharn saw a positive. he saw hope. angron was capable of something other than rage and somehow you could control it for more than a single sentence. and in that regard, kharn becomes your biggest supporter. he would do anything he could to not only protect you in moments of rage but to encourage you when angron needed it the most. he’d prepare for those small moments of clarity to see if you could help balance angron out. but the others? it was a fluke. you weren’t changing anything. angron would never be any different. but go off, try and kill them, that shows you love them right? 
rob: it only took one to notice. how a slight shift in his schedule put him back in the room with the same person he saw the week before, and the week before that. and he’s seeing them next week, and the week after. are they a diplomat? are they a specialised counsel of some kind? a small team of investigators forms, and no, you are none of those things. you are the object of lord guilliman’s attention. his carefully considered words. his offering of a basket of fruit you liked, supposedly something not liked by his offices. what a liar. they never receive baskets of fruit like that. it becomes a hot topic for gossip, and it isn’t until valentus asks if ‘this person’ he meets with so often may want something other than fruit baskets, and that he can ask for something to be custom made, that guilliman reconsiders his whole approach – and takes valentus up on that offer. speculations are common. whispers even more so. but they are all pleased for him in their own way. 
morty: well it wasn’t really courting. he gave you something, said that would care if you died, and then waited for you to respond. and when you finally said that, yeah… you would too? he nodded and took that as confirmation of, uh, something between you. so you’re confused, and so are his sons. you even catch eyes with one and shrug comically because what the fuck? the entire legion falls silent about the issue. no one says a word. but internally? what the fuck was about right. morty didn’t seem to care for anything, he barely even seemed like he cared for his legion some time, and now he doesn’t want you to die. huh. whatever. typhon would be the one to outwardly say something. my lord, is this not a shackle that binds you to humanity? and the primarch would dismiss the thought without doubt. not every attachment is a weakness. deathguard HATE this guy. 
magnus: ahriman should be ashamed of himself. he could be doing something important. he could be doing anything but this. but he’s silently observing his primarch, sat on the balcony of his private chambers, sharing a bottle of his finest wine with someone who has been here a few times now. sharing it with you. and he’s drabbling on about the universe and stars and how the universe began with his eyes all wide and bright, looking to see your response, needing to hear your voice and how you’re impressed by his understanding. ahriman isn’t spying. he’s protecting his primarch from the dangers at large. you could be dangerous. or, more realistically, ahriman wished to listen to magnus’ wisdom as well. but he can’t help but be genuinely impressed by how magnus handled himself, how he knew all the right things to say, how he was so genuinely charismatic with you. and equally, how he’d managed to hide this from the entirely population of tizca when he was right on the balcony. ahriman takes notes. he may need them in the future. 
horus: a couple of the mournival had watched him from the corridor. horus had basically made you putty in his hands, he knew when and where to touch you, how to exude the right amount of character and strength, mixed with emotions and feelings, at the exact moment it was needed. he’s a traditionalist, he knows how to make someone swoon. a compliment here. a smile there. it’s a masterclass. this must be where fulgrim learnt it from. and his sons are living for it. that is until tarik hums to himself knowingly. i know them from somewhere. and loken hesitates, because isn’t that the person abbadon kept talking about before. yes it was. horus was courting the one person who caught abbadon’s interest, clearly taking something from that conversation. the pair keep it to themselves for now. loken walks away wondering how horus managed to make the word sweetheart sound so different – and how long it would be before everyone knew about this, because it would be a good source of a amusement.
lorgar: erebus and kor phaeron rarely lorgar out of their sights, because it seemed their grand plan would fuck up each time he managed to escape. this time? it seems the primarch has gone and fallen in love. they’d watched as lorgar handed you a book. perfectly accompanied by sticky tabs, post it notes, underlined words and highlighted phrases that made him think of you. each page was absolutely covered. kor phaeron had been the first to laugh, seeing his pathetic attempt at worship only elicit an uncomfortable smile from you as you flicked through the pages and saw the depths that he was going into. erebus was quieter, but equally amused. so easy to manipulate, he’d comment, seeing the way the lorgar would quite literally fall to his knees and praise you, another weakness he falls so easily to.  but on the other side of things, argel tal is a few steps behind his primarch, peering around subtly in admiration of lorgar’s attempts. he sees it as sweet, actually, and rather than a weakness in his devotion to the emperor, saw it as an extension. some others may find it heretical, depending on where their loyalty stood. 
vulkan: he first crafted you a knife, such a beautifully build and shaped weapon that everyone could tell his entire soul went into it. but he could have done that for anyone. and then he crafted a necklace, forced from things he owned, and was not shy about handing it to you in front of everyone. he wanted every one of his sons to know his feelings, maybe without directly saying it, and begin to internalise what this all meant. which is exactly what they did. and it was like a tension lifted. every single one of them is rooting for him, for you, for whatever is going to come from it. and vulkan can’t be criticised in his ways either. numeon may even comment, offhandedly, that he would inspire generations to come with his actions. and xiaphas? would plan the wedding. the most normal legion on this list, it seems.  
corvus: he was silent about it, never revealing a thing to any other. his silent courting, his gestures that had no meaning until they did. it wasn’t until they’d see him protect you, maybe even just the flick of his wrist to prevent an action that he would never usually stop, that they all start thinking. wondering. could their primarch truly have feelings in this way? was there really one person who could capture all of their attention? it would come down to someone like sharrowkyn to say something. voice an opinion to his brothers and then to the primarch himself. with caution, of course. are they worth it, my lord? he wouldn’t hesitate. they are worth my entire being. and from then ravenguard watch in the shadows for you as well. they would accept it, they may not understand it, but they wouldn’t question it. he did not want to fail you. and if any of them did want to understand, he would explain it. 
alpharius: regardless of which one it is that’s wooing someone, they were all involved. because this is alpharius after all - he’s not just going to make someone fall in love with him because he’s really nice. or he couldn’t be bothered to try. so the whole legion is in on it. they are all courting you, working on this plan which they don’t really understand. they all think its part of something bigger. they all think you must be someone who is so important that all their attention has to be focused on you. but no, alpharius just has a crush. and it becomes obvious when pretty soon alpharius does not want to share with anyone. a few of them would be kind of pressed about it. didn’t want to be involved, didn’t want to carry it on. a couple accidentally catch feelings because they were forcing themselves to replicate what alpharius was doing and he’s a very touchy-feely man. or was it omegon? who knows. maybe it wasn’t even alpharius that started this all, he was just caught up in the cross fire. regardless, alpharius is smitten, and his legion is… not.
i am very sorry if any people/legions are mischaracterised at all!! i am more familiar with some legions which probably comes across in this, but please tell me if something wouldn't happen, so i know for next time ◡̈
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insomniakisses · 4 months ago
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G!p Caitlin taking you with her to a team dinner and some random dude starts flirting with you and you decide to make her jealous a little bit and she eventually gets fed up and leads you to the bathroom
Broken Bonds and Finding Love (Caitlin Clark x Reader x Kate Martin)
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Part one - You’re Mine // Series Masterlist
A/N: Lowkey changed the request a bit, i just went with it haha. Not exactly the vibe I had hopped for my first WBB fic but.... Yeah. Maybe i could make a part 2 if yall are wanting it!
warnings/notes: I changed this to be alpha!cait hope thats okay, smut, semi public sex, possessive nature, omegaverse au, cait has a dick, afab reader, omega reader, alpha caitlin clark, daddy kink, CNC themes, Toxic!caitlin, cheater!caitlin, Blowjobs, porn with plot, Slightly angsty too, Slight Alpha!Kate x reader, omega space, talk of injuries, blood, possibly slight abusive themes, mentions of cum.
─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ☽ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──
It was a common thing, Caitlin taking you out for meals. Whether it was with her team, the pair of you and Kate or just the two of you. She was just that kind of girlfriend, she liked spending time with you, doting on you and spoiling you beyond belief no matter how much you protest that it’s not necessary.
Today was different though, her attention was not on you at all. No, her attention was on her team and her team only. You put up with it at first, knowing to behave because Caitlin doesn’t like bratty girls. Bratty girls have to be punished. Not to mention the big win the team had just had, she deserved to celebrate and enjoy her night.
But when the second hour of her paying you no mind rolled around you began to get squirmy, you tried to be good you really did but you couldn’t help act up. Especially when your attempts to get her attention were brushed off.
Your first attempt was subtly, shuffling closer to her and looping your hand in her free one, content with the feeling of her skin against yours. That was until she shook your hand off a moment later moving her hand to rest on the table. You pouted then, feeling uneasy that she had brushed you off so easily. The second attempt was a little bolder, and you knew it might cross a line, but you didn’t care. Reaching over you squeezed her upper thigh, but she gave you nothing. Not even a lip twitch.
A soft whine escapes you, quiet enough that only she could hear but she doesn’t react. It makes you sad really, having so little of her attention when she’s usually so wrapped up in your presents that the world becomes white noise. Not tonight though, no, tonight she was focused on anything but you. Even the waitress’s chest and ass apparently judging from the way she bites her lip staring at her as she passes by.
That’s the last straw you think, its one thing for her to ignore you for her team after a win. That you could learn to live with, but to shamelessly check out another omega in front of you after ignoring you all night? Ouch.
You avert your eyes as soon as you see it, like looking any longer might burn you. Your eyes lock with Kate and she shoots you a sympathetic look, clearly more than aware of your feelings. Certainly, more so than your own girlfriend. If you could even call her that.
The two of you had never really used such labels, the girl claiming she didn’t need a label to prove she loved you and only you. And if she loved you and you knew that why did anyone need to know. You felt silly now, sitting there in her jersey her number delicately painted onto your cheek with such detail and care it was clear you had practiced making it look perfect.
Your cheeks flushed, embarrassment and humiliation flooding you. Stupid. You thought, negative thoughts swirling round in your head, beginning a spiral. You excused yourself not that anyone batted an eye as you made a beeline for the restrooms. You lean on the counter and shake your head trying to stop the thoughts that hit you.
She’s embarrassed of you.
She doesn’t even want you here.
She just wants you to leave her alone.
She wants the waitress, she’s prettier than you are.
You shake your head, willing the thoughts to go away. Caitlin hadn’t said any of that, you shouldn’t believe it. You sigh, taking a deep breath and splash your face with water. Taking a deep breath readying yourself to go back out there. Caitlin was your ride, so you were stuck there, forced to endure another 2 hours of humiliation. Sat next to Caitlin as she ignored you and eye fucked anything that walked past. You didn’t know what was worse the way she ignored you without a care, the way Kate was sat opposite all kind smiles and eyes full of pity or the way you knew at the end of the night you’d be faced with horny Caitlin’s honeyed words and empty promises. You’d fall for it of course, you always did. Laying there as she hovered above you, thrusting into you without a care, breath like a brewery.
--
Stepping out of the restrooms you didn’t notice Caitlin’s gaze on you, you were too busy apologising to the poor waiter you’d bumped into. Luckily, he hadn’t been carrying anything, but it didn’t diminish your efforts as you rambled on and on apologising to him.
He dismissed you though, a flirty smirk settling onto his face as he rubbed your waist. Complements and examples of how you could make it up to him escaping his lips over and over. Usually, you would push him off with a scoff and a comment about how sleazy it was, but not today. Today you needed the attention, and you didn’t care who it was from.
You didn’t know or care if Caitlin was looking, having ridded yourself of her jersey and washed her number off your face. She didn’t deserve you, not after her behaviour today. An opinion you would stan your ground on. At least for now.
For now, you were content laughing and encouraging the man in front of you. Though, a few minutes later his smirk dropped into a worried frown. You furrow your brows about to ask him what’s wrong when you hear it. A low deep growl from right behind you. Caitlin’s growl. You shudder at it, not liking the way her scent covers you. It feels wrong. Smothering even, in the way you can only smell her. Her anger is heavily evident in the scent, it sets you off, filling you with dread.
You don’t react, you don’t have time to before your being tugged away. Her grips hard around your wrist, it hurts, and you know it will bruise. She growls again, throwing you into the restroom and into the counter not batting an eye when you yelp out in pain.
Her eyes are narrowed on you, her jaw set. She’s beyond pissed, angrier than you’ve ever seen her. You don’t like it. Not the way she looks at you or the harshness of how she’s touching you. Its wrong. It doesn’t feel good, it makes you feel unimportant. Confirming your previous fears.
She’s quick with her movements reaching out and grabbing your jaw, hard. “What, the fuck was that?” She spits, eyes full of disgust. Her anger flaring when you don’t answer, “I asked you a question slut!” she growls unamused when you fail to answer again, your mouth just opening and closing as you stare up at her wide-eyed.
“Can’t work your mouth huh? You’re just a dumb fucking slut, aren’t you?” you don’t answer, she doesn’t let you. Shoving you down onto your knees with a grunt. “Your mouth’s only useful for one thing, isn’t it? Huh?” her voice is deep and raspy, her hands making quick work of freeing her cock.
“Cait-“ you begin to whine, but she talks over you.
 “Oh, just SHUT UP and fucking take it” she grunts grabbing the back of your head and slamming herself down your throat. Groaning in delight when you gag around her, your fists balled up and slapping against her thighs, drool dripping down your chin onto the floor.
“That’s it,” she gathers your hair in both her hands guiding your head along her as she starts a rough pace fucking into your throat. “That’s fucking it, all your good for warning my fucking cock like the cockslut you are.”
She keeps her rough pace as she abuses your throat, loving every gag you make trying to take her, you have no choice, but you just shut your eyes and take it.
“My slut aren’t you baby,” she taunts thrusting fast as she nears her orgasm, “just here for my use, my personal little cock sleeve, fuck!” She gasps pinning your head to her crotch holding you still as her cock twitches in your throat. Her cum painting it as she spurts into you, panting heavily as she does so.
You gasp for air when she finally releases you, coughing slightly after swallowing all her cum. She slaps her cock again your face smugly, wiping cum and drool across your cheek without a care.
“Are you ready to answer me now slut?” she asks, voice calm but sharp.
“Yes daddy, sorry daddy” you whimper shuffling closer to nuzzle into her thigh as she absent-mindedly strokes your hair. The little attention doing wonders to send you slipping into omega space.
She hums, giving your hair a tug as she repeats her earlier question. “So, what the fuck was that outside, hmm? Throwing yourself at that worthless alpha right in front of my face” she scoffs, staring down at you awaiting your answer which comes out mumbled against her thigh as frustrated, and embarrassed tears escape your eyes.
“M’sorry daddy, wanted your attention but you didn’t want me anymore…” you whimper more tears flowing down your blushed cheeks. “You wanted that waitress… not me.”
She sighs at that, hearing the confusion and heart break in your voice as you stare up at her with such sad eyes. Her hand comes down to caress your cheek and you mean into her touch letting her pull you up and into her arms, though you curl into yourself a little when met with her intense gaze.
“Look at me.” She commands guiding your head, so it’s tilted up at you. She waits till she has eye contact before she speaks again, “I want you, only you baby hmm” she coos as she wipes your tears and rests her forehead against yours.
“But I was bad…” you mumble, head getting fuzzy as your hit with a wave of her pheromones pushing you further into omega space weather you want it or not. Your pupils dilating as you let out a whine leaning into her fully eyes closing as she tugs your pants and underwear off, guiding you onto the counter and spreading you.
“That’s why I have to punish you...” you hear her say, missing the smirk on her face as you let your eyes close finding it hard to focus one anything right now, trusting your alpha to take care of you.
She lines herself up slamming in, neglecting wrapping up her dick because your so out of it you won’t stop her. Besides if your hers so what if she cums in you? That’s her right whether you like it or not.
The bathroom is filled with grunts and groans as she pounds into you, gripping your thighs hard enough to bruise and slamming into you so hard you’d find it painful in your right mind. There’s no kisses or gentle words, she just pumps out more pheromones keeping you in a state of constant compliance as she pounds away not batting an eye as you hit your head into the mirror ever time she thrusts. Or how you whine in pain from the tap digging into your side.
“That’s it, take it. Fucking take it.”
“All your good for”
“Mine to use whenever I want, however I fucking want.”
“That’s right I fucking own you.”
“Your mine”
She just repeats the same few things grunting against your neck as she bites and sucks at your neck not caring that she’s just mate marked you, and certainly not licking at it to stop the blood or sooth the wound. Instead, she just pounds and pounds into you not caring when people come in or out until she’s done with you. Pulling out with the false promise of coming back for you after she grabs her jacket, instead she leaves you there. Kate watching her leave with the waitress from earlier a little while later, wondering where you could possibly be or if you could see this happen. Scoffing “does she have no shame” she thinks to herself.
--
You’re in and out of consciousness, confused and in pain when Kate finds you. Having taken a trip to the restrooms to fix her hair before leaving. The first thing that hits her is your smell, she smells your in omega space and then her eyes land on you.
You’re still on the counter, slumped up by the mirror. Bruises and scratches litter your skin, blood crusting on your neck as the bite mark remains an open wound. Caitlin’s cum leaking from your pussy and it’s there she sees the hand shaped bruises across your legs and hips. She’s frozen in place, she knew Caitlin wasn’t always the best or most loyal to the omega’s she had but she would have never thought Caitlin could be so cruel especially not to someone so sweet and loving as you. She growls then, silently promising to protect you from now on. Even if she has to fight Caitlin to do it.
You’re shaking as she gets closer your eyes barely open, clearly not able to do anything not even speak. She’s unsure if the constant shaking is from coldness or that your body is in shock, honestly it could be both judging on your state. She’s so thankful that it was her that found you, who knows what another alpha might have done.
She slips off her jacket and helps you into it grabbing some paper towel and wetting it in the sink, gently cleaning at your sensitive pussy. She coos when you jolt and laces her free hand with yours, kissing your knuckles as she talks you through every single thing she does for you. Making sure she notifies you before she makes any kind of movement to touch you.
Once she’s cleaned you up and tended to your wound as best she can with what’s around her, she looks for your clothes placing them in a pile on the counter next to you. You can’t put them back on, there soaked in god knows what from the floor and half ripped from Caitlin’s lack of care.
“For fucks sake Caitlin! You asshole.” she mumbles under her breath. Shoving them into her bag to deal with later.
Slipping out of her sweats and helping you into them she can’t help chuckle at how long they are on you, rolling up the bottoms until they rest at your ankles. She takes her hoodie off then and ties it round her waist covering whatever her baggy t-shirt didn’t of her boxers. Once she’s satisfied, she won’t flash anyone she guides you into her arms.
“C’mon then babygirl, let’s get you somewhere safe, okay?” She doesn’t really expect an answer back, not in this state anyway, but she asks regardless. A small smile tugging at her lips when you manage a slight nod as she carries you out to her car, setting you gently into the seat and buckling you up. With one gentle kiss to your head, she closes the door and gets in the driver’s side, making her way back to her apartment. She’d never been so glad she moved out into her own place. Her only focus being making sure you’re okay
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