#then it will hurt a lot but after a year or so i will only feel empty nd not hurt when i think of him
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Twst Third Years reacting to someone else calling you 'honey' or 'sweetheart'
First Years | Second years
A/N = Likes, reblogs and comments r apprecaieted btw!
Trey Clover
He raises an eyebrow. Like what did he just say?
“Honey? Sweetheart? That's a little forward, don’t you think?”
Gives the person a polite but firm smile, subtly stepping closer to you.
HE WILL try to keep things calm but is lowkey plotting how to make sure that never happens again. Like you should probably... do something about him.
BUT in private, he’ll ask you if you’re okay with it, but also makes sure to remind you he’s got your back.
Cater Diamond
He laughs at first, but the playful glint in his eyes slowly shift into something more possessive.
“Oh? So you think you’re that close to (Y/N)?”
Gives the person a teasing grin before pulling you closer to him.
“You know, I think I’m the only one who gets to call them that. So how about we leave the nicknames to me, yeah?”
When alone with you, he’s definitely more affectionate but might joke about it a bit more.
Leona Kingscholar
Glares at the person, his face darkening in the process.
“The hell did you just call them?” he scowls.
He doesn’t hold back. His tone DRIPPING with irritation.
“You’ve got some nerve. Back off, they’re mine.”
Will pull you closer to him, practically growling if the person doesn’t get the hint.
Vil Schoenheit
Freezes for a moment, then smiles, but it’s far from a kind smile. It's more of... getoutofmyfacebeforeismackyouintotomorrow typa smile.
“How cute, you think you’re that familiar with them.”
Casually places a hand on your shoulder, making sure the other person notices how close you two are.
His voice is laced with poison: “I think you should stick to more formal terms. After all, you’re not exactly their type.” ouch that kinda hurts.
Vil keeps it classy but is definitely claiming you in his own way. He's probably not gonna let you out of his sight after this.
Rook Hunt
He simply... smirks. He's entertained. He's slightly enjoying this... but of course with a possessive glint in his eyes.
“Oh? Honey, you say? You’re a bit too forward for my liking.”
Leans in close to you, wrapping his arm around your waist.
“(Y/N) belongs to me, in a way that no one else can even dream of.”
He loves the tension it creates, and you can expect him to be a lot more possessive afterward.
Idia Shroud
His face turns red, and he freezes up.
'W-Wait, honey? Who the hell do they think they are?' his mind races.
You can practically see the steam coming out of his ears as he starts muttering to himself, fidgeting nervously. He's like a kettle about to BURST.
'I-I don’t like it when other people call them that! I get to call them cute names, okay?' he thinks to himself.
He doesn’t show it on the outside, but internally, he’s definitely marking his territory.
He tries to listen in on the conversation to know more about him for... reasons. AND goodluck to his online reputation cuz it's gonna be non-existent or absolutely ruined in a matter of seconds.
Malleus Draconia
Stares at the person, unblinking.
“Did you just refer to them as honey?”
His voice is calm, but his eyes have a dangerous glint.
Steps closer to you, his presence overwhelming.
“No one else has the right to address them that way. They belong to me.”
Will silently observe, but you’ll feel his possessive nature once the clouds start getting dark and raindrops fall from the sky. Then the air around you seems to shift, heavy with his unspoken claim.
Lilia Vanrouge
He chuckles, but his tone is laced with amusement and something more.
“Oh? Sweetheart, you say? How bold of you, but I think you’ve got it wrong.”
Laughs to himself and then ruffles your hair affectionately.
“(Y/N) is mine, so maybe you should pick a more appropriate nickname.”
While playful on the surface, you can feel the possessive edge in his words.
A/N = I love third years the most tbh
#twisted wonderland fanfiction#twisted wonderland#twst x reader#twisted wonderland x reader#trey clover x reader#trey clover#cater diamond#cater x reader#leona kingscholar x reader#leona kingscholar#vil schoenheit#vil x reader#rook hunt#rook hunt x reader#idia shroud x reader#idia shroud#idia x reader#malleus draconia#malleus x reader#lilia x reader#lilia vanrouge
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The first person who ever told me I was autistic was a trans woman, a few years older than i was, at a holiday party my folks had dragged me to back in 10th grade. We were friends, then, and I'd seen her plenty of times at the local poetry reading and a dozen or so punk shows. This woman had offered to fight skinheads twice her weight without a hint of hyperbole. She brought us water once at a show that was a 30 minute walk from the nearest anything, just because the venue wasn't selling and she didn't want my friends, and mostly me, dehydrated.
So she pulls me into this sideroom and says hey, you're autistic. You should talk to a doctor or your therapist. Do it behind your parents' backs if you need to, but this loneliness and hurt you describe to me is autism. you're okay. you're not a freak.
I saw her petting another transfem's tummy and i felt my own stomach turn over with longing. This woman was one of my first crushes, one of the only trans women i knew personally. It seemed like she had this aura that brought sisters towards her, and in a time when i was in constant turmoil over community and who did or didn't understand me, i clung to her like glue.
That night, my parents told me she pulled me aside because she wanted to molest me. They told me i couldn't trust her, and that i shouldn't speak with her anymore. I believed them, then. I still hate myself for that, but I was 15 and still pretty much believed everything my parents told me without question. it wouldn't be until they said they always knew my brother and i autistic that id start calling their bullshit where i see it.
She was unhealthy, suffering from severe depression, drinking a lot, and isolated from her family. she'd just moved here recently. She died in a drunk driving accident six months ago.
Sometimes i can't believe she's been dead for half a year. sometimes i can't believe she's dead at all. She always felt like so much, so much person, so much love, so much rage. She was a protector in a community that chewed her up for being queer in an "uncomfortable" way. i truly believe the reason she's struggled so much, the reason she started drinking again after being sober for those two months, was because people were fucking nasty to her. said horrible things behind her back. like saying she was a child molester.
I think about Myst a lot. I miss her a lot.
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my take on the whole "dean was parentified" narrative and where that slippery slope usually takes people ("sam was spoiled as a kid and dean shielded him from all harm") is that many people can't comprehend that dean was in fact parentified, but that doesn't mean he was sam's father. sam had a father, and it was john.
nor does it mean sam was spoiled or babied by either of them. canon doesn't support this interpretation despite it being so popular in the fandom.
dean was parentified in the sense that he had responsibilies and stressors that weren't appropriate for his age and his role as a son... but that doesn't change the fact that his relationship with sam was that of a brother, not a parent.
at one point dean says "I had to be more than just a brother. I had to be a father, and I had to be a mother." and his feelings of overwhelm and resentment are valid—their childhoods were difficult, stressful, and abnormal.
however, this doesn't mean "john was absolutely useless and neglectful, so he was completely out of the picture. dean was indeed sam's father and mother. and he fulfilled those roles so well that sam had a happy, easy childhood and he was freed from any parent-related trauma, since dean was his parent, and he did a stellar job at it"... you know?
parentified siblings are siblings after all (and sam and dean only have a 4-year age gap). and dean did "fail" in his parentified role—sometimes he fucked up, sometimes he was the one hurting sam. in many ways, he didn't understand sam's needs or how to fulfill them. which is understandable. and he definitely couldn't shield sam from the difficulties they both had to face. that was well beyond his capability after all
on top of that, sam was taught self-reliance from a young age and he was exposed to the hardships of their lifestyle just like dean (hardships in general since he was born, and hunter-related ones since he was eight). and most of the glimpses we get of sam as a child/teen show a lonely, sad, troubled person. where's the pampered and unconcerned child!sam people keep hallucinating?
deep down, the issue is that people seem to put sam and dean on a seesaw and weight their problems and traumas against each other. if we say sam had a shitty childhood, then we're somehow denying dean's traumas and sacrifices. and if we believe dean suffered a lot in his youth, then that must mean sam had everything served on a silver platter. and that makes no sense.
#parentified dean discourse#weechesters#I've seen some posts on my dash about this but I haven't read them all fully. so I'm sorry if maybe someone has said all of this before lol#⚝
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WIP DUMP
okay so this is lowkey inspired by @jayparked posting about her wips a bit ago (check them out here she's crazy talented and i can't wait to read them all) and since i've been struggling with writing recently i thought maybe sharing some of my wips could help. also biggest thanks to snail for helping me with the synopses for some of these and listening to me stress over the banners and everything
if you want to talk to me about any of them or wanna get tagged pls don't hesitate to send asks or comment on this post, i'd love to talk about them some more🥺❤️
MIDNIGHT IN MILAN — lhs
⟡ ┆ featuring. heeseung x fem!reader
⟡ ┆ genre and tropes. MDNI 18+ ONLY, smut, established relationship, idol AU (both heeseung and yn)
⟡ ┆ warnings. semi-public sex, unprotected sex, mirror sex, mild choking, creampie, fingering, tiniest hint of degradation (he calls her a slut like once), one singular spank, some hair pulling, not really any aftercare
⟡ ┆ estimated word count. 6k
they say love makes you do stupid things...surely fucking your boyfriend in the bathroom at the prada after party when your relationship isn't even public and neither of you can afford a dating scandal isn't that stupid, right?
(i'm well aware the hype around tipsy heeseung has already died down but i started writing this immediately after the pics dropped and then got hit by writers block so i'm dedicated to finish this)
!! more under the cut !!
HE HATES ME, HE HATES ME NOT — psh
⟡ ┆ featuring. sunghoon x fem!reader
⟡ ┆ genre and tropes. MDNI 18+ ONLY, smut, enemies to lovers, coworker AU, miscommunication (ikik), lowkey past fuckboi sunghoon
⟡ ┆ warnings. hate sex, semi-public sex (in an archive room?), protected and unprotected sex (there's several smut scenes), choking, spanking, degradation, praise kink, oral (m. and f. receiving), handjob, fingering, manhandling, overstimulation, dacryphilia, spit kink
⟡ ┆ estimated word count. 20k
park sunghoon hates you, and you hate him. it hadn't always been like that, when you first joined the company he works at he was friendly, a real gentleman, but over time of working together he turns cold, sometimes even downright mean, and you cannot for the life of you figure out what caused the sudden change in his behavior. however, things between you change yet again when you 'accidentally' get locked in your offices archive room.
HOME IS WHEREVER YOU ARE — lhs
⟡ ┆ featuring. heeseung x fem!reader
⟡ ┆ genre and tropes. MDNI 18+ ONLY, smut, college!au, friends to lovers
⟡ ┆ warnings. there's some talks of depression as well as unhealthy coping mechanism so be aware of that pls, protected sex (be proud of me okay), oral (f. and m. receiving), vanilla af, neither of them are virgins or inexperienced but they just having sex for the first time together after realizing they've been in love with each other for years :')
⟡ ┆ estimated word count. 14k
"distance makes the heart grow fonder." is no longer just a cliche saying. heeseung decided to follow his dreams, but doing so lead him to a different city, leaving you behind. no other friends, no hobbies to keep yourself busy, and no motivation to keep going, the only thing keeping you on some sort of routine is attending your college classes that your parents force you to go to. just when you're about to officially quit and give up, heeseung shows up out of nowhere and manages to pull you out of your slump, upturning your whole friendship in the process.
NATURAL REMEDY — pjs
⟡ ┆ featuring. jay x fem!reader
⟡ ┆ genre and tropes. MDNI 18+ ONLY, smut, physical therapist!reader, patient!jay, probably hipaa violations idk just don't do this irl basically
⟡ ┆ warnings. unprotected sex, oral (m. receiving), body worship (jay receiving bc he deserves someone to tell him or handsome he is), handjob, lots of oil, lowkey massage kink idek what to call this??
⟡ ┆ estimated word count. 5k
when jay hurts his knee while goofing around with his friends, his doctor recommends rest and physical therapy. lucky for him, your office is just around the corner, just that neither of you can make good on the ordered rest by doctor.
HEALTHY COMPETITION — lhs + sjy
⟡ ┆ featuring. heeseung x fem!reader x jake
⟡ ┆ genre and tropes. MDNI 18+ ONLY, smut, college au, non-idol au, and they were roommates (oh my god they were roommates), no romance just fucking
⟡ ┆ warnings. basically no plot, threesome (duh), protected and unprotected sex, anal, double penetration, spanking, oral (m. and f. receiving), multiple rounds, manhandling, they make it a competition to see who can make her moan the loudest...
⟡ ┆ estimated word count. 9k
your roommates bickering should be nothing but white noise to you at this point, but when they both rope you into their little argument of who fucks better things take an interesting turn and a welcomed distraction from studying is provided.
SNEAKY LINK — sjy
⟡ ┆ featuring. jake x fem!reader
⟡ ┆ genre and tropes. MDNI 18+ ONLY, smut, uni AU, frat boy jake (i'm sorry), friends with benefits but no one knows, alcohol consumption (they're not drunk and both consenting !!)
⟡ ┆ warnings. unprotected sex (it's a theme for me atp, don't do this irl pls), dry humping, fingering (it's jake come on now), kinda rushed sex ig, does it count as exhibitionism when they fuck in a spare bedroom idk, oral (f. receiving), breast play
⟡ ┆ estimated word count. 4k
frat parties usually weren't your thing, but when your best friend invites you (with the intention to be her wingwoman) you're not one to let her down. that is until you run into jake, whom you've been fooling around with without anyone knowing ...
© sungbeams — all rights reserved. i do not give permission to copy, repost, modify or translate my works.
#lia.txt#wips#wip dump#pls interact guys :(#gonna put some enha tags for exposure sorry in advance !!#heeseung x reader#sunghoon x reader#enhypen smut#enhypen x reader#heeseung smut#sunghoon smut#jake sim x reader#jake sim smut#jay park x reader#jay park smut
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Sonic 3 spoiler rambling about Sonic and Shadow under cut !
Y'know something that I feel might go lil under-appreciated is how well they made Sonic and Shadow mirror each other in the movie.
Like something that always can easily irk me are people boasting one of the two over the other because from the very beginning of his introduction to the series, Shadow's character is meant to reflect Sonic. They're meant to be equals that are so similar and complete opposites at the same time.
With the movie, I honestly wasn't expecting it that much. Sonic actually has a backstory that is just like Shadow's: powerful little hedgehog that is wanted for his power, so the one he's known his whole small life that he loves sacrifices herself to save him.
I fr fully expected Sonic to learn about Maria and be like "I lost Longclaw, I know you're pain, but-" blah blah blah- BUT they don't do that??
Of course, we have Commander Walters first telling Sonic that Shadow's story is a lot like his but wasn't able to find family and friends, and Sonic does find Shadow had a family from finding a picture of him and Maria together. He never gets told what happened exactly though, although it wouldn't make too much of a difference with the fact they did change up Shadow losing Maria just a little bit.
Since they didn't live up in space, Maria didn't have a capsule to send Shadow off with sacrificing herself and instead they made it an accident. WHICH- can be understandable if people don't like that, however personally I don't mind it that much because honestly the intent to shoot Maria was there, but she ended up being lost from an accident caused by Walters.
Which, ties in to Shadow hurting Tom...
Walters in trying to help save Maria's, Shadow's and Gerald's lives unfortunately led to Maria's death and watching Shadow be put in stasis for 50 years where all he thinks about is that painful memory burned fresh in his head. So of course when Shadow sees Tom disguised as Walters, he takes his anger out on him by hurting him while also stealing the key for the ARK. Leading to unfortunately another scenario of where the intent of harm is there, but someone still got hurt from an accident because Shadow never really meant to hurt Tom. But he does anyway..
Which of course in turn, makes Sonic mad just like Shadow was 50 years ago. Only difference is Sonic doesn't get immediately captured by GUN and forced into stasis. Letting him able to go straight to Shadow afterwards for hurting his family.
We have Shadow take note of all of that himself, telling Sonic he's feeling exactly the pain he felt and Sonic being the one to say "I'm nothing like you!". Just like how I thought Sonic would tell Shadow about Longclaw in hopes of redeeming him, but reversed and both sides full of anger and grief.
One awesome super fight later though, we come to the talk on the moon. Probably my favorite part in the whole movie. outside of the super fights and Live and Learn playing lol
After mentioning Tom and getting uppercutted straight to the moon by Sonic, Shadow loses his super form, leaving him vulnerable, easy for Sonic to take his revenge on him. Only for all of that to be stopped because of Shadow pointing at his own chest which reminds Sonic what Tom told him at the beginning of the movie and calm down.
"You didn't let pain change who you are."
This completely baffles Shadow, with him actually wanting Sonic to finish it, but of course Sonic just refuses saying "No one wins with revenge". It just leaves silence between them, finally giving Shadow his own moment of remembering Maria outside of her death by looking at the stars he used to gaze upon with her.
He mentions it to Sonic how all he knew and felt was just the pain, and now finally- FINALLY, Sonic mentions how he shares that feeling of loss from Longclaw. Not in a moment of trying to just redeem Shadow without the full weight of it, but in a moment of understanding.
A strong moment of these two looking at each other in a mirror, eye to eye. Sonic, who was allowed to grieve all those years ago after losing Longclaw, telling Shadow the pain of loss will never go away, but the love will always remain.
"The light shines, even though the star is gone."
And through that shared pain and loss, now coupled with empathy and understanding one another through it. They truly connect.
Sonic and Shadow's dynamic was just done SO WELL in the movie and I couldn't be happier with it...
#sonic 3#sonic move 3#sonic#sonic spoilers#sonic 3 spoilers#sonic movie 3 spoilers#sonic the hedgehog#shadow#shadow the hedgehog#Sonic snd Shadow#sonadow#Of course this doesn't have to be seen as shippy in any means I just also want sonadow peeps to also see lol#This is pure rambling but also such huge feelings I have with these two and their dynamic that I just forever will adore#Name two fictional characters that are better foils amd reflections of eachother better than these hedgehogs - YOU CAN'T -#(this is a joke not an actual challenge btw)#(i am well aware people can list off many good examples of this type if dynamic that they will deem “better”)#(these two are just MY favorite y'know y'know- imma peaise them whenever i get the chance- lol)
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Also about the comments, OP is clearly not talking about abusers just claiming to forgive themselves but not having any remorse. They're clearly addressing this post to people who feel intensely guilty for what they've done and have trouble with forgiving themselves. They are the people who want to change and not the people who will just continue to abuse.
It's also very much anti "well I forgave myself (or in some, religious cases, "I repented and asked Jesus to forgive me") so you have to forgive me too!" which sometimes happens, but OP literally says you can't make people forgive you. No one else is obligated to forgive you, but the only path forward is to recognize what you did was wrong, change yourself for the better, and make peace with who you were then and who you are now. It is unproductive to view yourself as unchangeably evil. You do the least harm when you can reform yourself. Even if in the eyes of the people you hurt, you'll always be the one who hurt them, and they won't want to forgive that.
I've encountered this situation thrice. Once, myself. I was bigoted. I was also 11 years old and under influences of right wing internet, somehow. I don't hold it against myself forever because I was only a kid and had bad influences. Second, my sister. She was also bigoted when she was with her trumper boyfriend because she had sacrificed a lot of herself and brainwashed herself into his beliefs out of a fear of rejection. The only stuff she felt she could watch that he wouldn't make fun of her for was Brett Cooper, Ben Shapiro, and Matt Walsh. She very quickly changed after the breakup and I have forgiven her as she has forgiven herself. The third, was a guy who blackmailed my sister when she was in a really bad situation. I do not want to disclose details but he's recently been trying to get back in her life and it's clear he feels remorseful, and I fully believe he is a changed man, but for both of us, our perception of him is stained by what he did all those years ago. We cannot fully forgive him, and we don't have to, but we do wish him the best and don't believe he would ever do something like that again. He was also a young teen when it happened and was hanging around the same bad influence we were, at the time. He should forgive himself, even if we cannot.
the thing is, if your younger self was a bigot or an abuser, u can't make people forgive you. but you still gotta forgive yourself, like that's non-negotiable, dude. that happens before u can even ask the question of earning forgiveness from anyone lese
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My would-be rapist died earlier this week and I have been having a lot of Complicated Feelings about it since being told. Long story short he died because he was once again being a creep and someone intervened and ended up cracking open his skull and he died from a brain bleed two days later. And I'm just thinking about how 18 years ago this guy was actively attempting to groom me in the middle of church and bible study and only stopped because my parents believed me when they pried the truth out of me. And how that stopped him from pursuing me but not from just switching to Someone Else until it became multiple Someone Else's and the above situation happened.
Truthfully I don't really know what to feel, or think. I am not sad that he is dead. I'm not really happy either. I think he is an excellent example of the multiple failures we have as a society to protect our most vulnerable populations. He is who I think of when I ask what we do with repeat offenders who do not seem to be getting the message that they are making bad choices, and how we're supposed to protect vulnerable people from predators like him.
I do think, for the most part, that prison reform and prison abolition is a good thing. I do think that the death penalty sets a dangerous precedent.
But what do we do with a man who has hurt person after person after person, who even when confined to a facility for the rest of his life (ie, effectively a prison) continues to prey upon patients and staff alike, until he is sent to an all-male facility and even then tries it with a female CNA before another male patient witnesses it and does something about it?
I don't even know if the other guy realizes what a service he's done to this dude's victims, or the collective sigh of relief his victims took upon the news of his demise.
I will not light a candle for you, Joel. Not even your own family is attending your funeral, or pressing charges against the facility or the man who killed you. But it does make me think about how this could have been better resolved, if it could have been, if a better outcome than a long string of sexual assaults and rapes ultimately ending in a violent death could have been had.
He never did manage to get me. But he would have, if my parents hadn't stepped in on my behalf. He was bold enough to try it while they were just downstairs, reading and discussing from religious texts. Bold enough to put his hands on me in the middle of church as the pastor spoke and everyone could see. To my knowledge, I was his first- or was I? Was he bold because he was inexperienced in doing this, or because he was riding the high of having gotten away with it before? Clearly getting caught just taught him to be more subtle, rather than that he shouldn't have been doing it in the first place.
I think if he had succeeded with me, I would currently be very glad to hear about his death.
But he didn't, so now I am thinking about these things. And feeling a little, play stupid games win stupid prizes.
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blue — fushiguro megumi.
As you walked hand in hand through the snow, Fushiguro Megumi felt like your warmth and his blended together, refusing to part as you made your way away from the shrine. The thought of that made him feel like the winter was nothing, the biting chill rendered powerless against the steady heat of your presence. It was the kind of moment that made the world feel smaller and quieter. It was as if the universe had decided to go on a pause just for the two of you. It was as if these two hands were meant to fit because destiny said so.
GENRE: Alternate Universe - Canon Convergence;
WARNING/s: AFAB! Reader, Safe For Work (SFW), Long Distance Romance (LDR), Aged Up Characters (Megumi and Reader are 18!), Young Love, Innocent Romance, Established Relationship, Middle School Classmates to Lovers, Teasing, Teenagers, Feelings, Fluff, First Love, Hurt/Comfort, Falling In Love, Flirting, Humor, Domesticity, Slice of Life, Light-Hearted, Confessions, Pining, Holding Hands;
WORD COUNT: 5.3k words.
NOTE: im a bit late, i'm sorry!!! i had a whole list of chores i helped my family with and i met up with some people yesterday, since i might not see them for christmas due to schedules. but i'm here. i always imagined megumi to be the sort of person who loves so wholeheartedly and so innocently. i wanted to capture that for his birthday. happy birthday, megumi!!! you will always be so loved by me <33333 i love you all too!!! thank you for reading!!! see you for yuuji's own fic on 24th <3 (asia time)
addendum: i just want you to know that the exact number of the words are 5302. chinese/cantonese numerology expresses that 53 means my life, 0 means good and 2 means joy and sometimes double joy. it reads as 'my life is good joy' and i think between them reader and megumi, that's genuinely true <333
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THE DARK BLUE SWIRLED AROUND THE SKY TENDERLY TONIGHT. Had there been more time, he would have enjoyed it more. But he knew there wasn’t. He had to get to you, immediately. He bit his lip softly against the cold winter wind.
Fushiguro Megumi tugged the bright tender scarf tighter around his neck as the frigid wind bit at his cheeks. He caught a faint whiff of the fabric, and something about the scent felt... off.
It’s a good scent, don’t get him wrong. But it wasn’t the familiar one he was used to. Had he bought a new perfume and just forgotten about it?
He sighed to himself. He was too busy lately, going off on missions. And now a lot of his life had become footnotes, even if he didn’t want them to be. Megumi knew he had to do better.
He had to do whatever he could to make a better pace for himself. Still, thinking about that right now is impossible. He had to brush the thought aside. There were more pressing things to focus on—like how late he was. Again.
Megumi could only hope that you weren’t waiting too long or that you had arrived late. But now he can’t help but think if you wore that thick Arc'teryx coat he’d gotten you. Or if you wore mittens or had enough hot packs on your body at this moment. Guilt started to echo into his head as easily as it was breathing. But he can’t help but feel that.
He took a moment to breathe, his breath visible in the cold air. He hated being late about absolutely anything. He likes punctuality, after all. But he especially likes it when it comes to you.
Because that meant he’d have more time with you. And more time with you means that he’d have you with him enough to sweep the thought of missing you for a little while.
But being a sorcerer, the job description didn’t care about holidays or plans. Or even the personal, the thoughts and moments that made one happy. It just never stops. Not even when he was supposed to take you out on a date on New Year’s Eve. Megumi absolutely reviled it. If he saw a curse, he had to deal with it, no matter the time.
And somehow, some sort of way, still, he knew you understood. You always did. You always reassured him of that no matter what. No matter how many times his responsibilities pulled him away from you, even just for five minutes.
You never stopped smiling when he finally showed up. You don’t stop having the warmest red on your cheeks when you see him. Your eyes always shone brighter than Sirius when you both stand beside one another.
Even though you weren’t a sorcerer yourself, you tried to understand his world, even the parts that didn’t make sense to you at all. It wasn’t fair to you, and he knew it. Yet, no matter how hard things got, you never gave up on him. You just didn’t want to, even when he had tried to keep you at bay.
That was one of the things he appreciated most about you. Megumi had never had quite a lot of joy in his life, but he was to be honest, you were one of them. You always will be. And even now, you stand by him, even if it’s hard.
You didn’t care for the hard stuff, you always said it was part of it. Because what mattered to you, was having him in your life. And he was certain he felt the same way about you.
Well, it’s obvious.
Why else would he start running in this cold winter weather?
If it’s you, the person he loved most, then he’ll find a way?
After all, he wanted to be with you for as long as possible.
He paused for a moment, staring at the message. The small emoji made something in his chest tighten, as much as it made his body feel the warmest it had ever been. Despite everything, you still cared enough to wait for him, to worry about him. A small, rare smile tugged at his lips.
The faint vibration of his phone snapped him out of his thoughts. He fished it out of his pocket, his cold fingers fumbling slightly as he unlocked it. A text from you lit up his screen:
“Megu, baby, where are you? 🥺”
Megumi stared at his phone after hitting send, watching the little delivered mark appear. Megumi has thought about how many times he’d sent similar texts, always apologizing to you, for more often than he hoped, about being late.
He typed back quickly, his fingers stiff from the cold.
"On my way, babe. Sorry for being late."
Yet, you never seemed to hold it against him. He wished you had. Most romantic partners would be so fed up with such a position.
Hell, most of them would have already left their partners. But not you. You never had thought of it, not even during middle school, when Gojo started to take him on his missions to observe. You were steadfast, because you saw his efforts. You saw how much he loved you.
And that was enough. He never had to doubt that you loved him. And perhaps, that’s why he kept running. He wanted to get to you, as soon as possible. He wanted to see you. He wanted to hold you in his arms. He wanted to love you.
As he slipped his phone back into his pocket, Fushiguro Megumi picked up his pace. He had to. He had to arrive as soon as possible. For once, he hoped the world could hold its chaos at bay. Just for tonight. He owed you that much. He owed you all of the world. And he had to make it possible, even if just for a little while.
His phone buzzed again almost immediately.
“Okay, but you better hurry, baby! It’s cold! Also… why does your scarf smell like my perfume? 🤔”
Megumi stopped in his tracks, his brain processing your words at a glacial pace. Your perfume? His hand instinctively went to the scarf wrapped snugly around his neck. That was the weird smell he’d noticed earlier—the soft, floral notes he’d never associated with his usual scarf. His mind raced. If this was your perfume, then this wasn’t his scarf.
It’s your scarf. The realization hit him like a curse to the chest. Now, his heart was thumping hard on his chest. You must’ve grabbed his scarf by mistake in a rush the last time you visited him and you forgot about it.
And now that left him with your scarf. And he hadn’t noticed at all. His face heated to warm scarlet instantly, the cold air doing nothing to cool it. Ah, this is…..
His grip on the phone tightened as he read your words. Cute. It was hard enough to deal with how much warmth you give him with your scarf, but the thought of you being so tender with him, loving to the point that he can’t take it.
Before he could come up with a reply, another message came through:
“Wait, Megu!… Are you wearing my scarf? 🥺 That’s so cute! Wah!”
He doesn’t know what to do. Everything about his love for you just grows deeper and he can’t help it. His face burned hotter, and he was suddenly hyper-aware of the soft fabric around his neck.
He hesitated, fingers hovering over the keyboard, before typing back:
"I didn’t realize until now. I must’ve grabbed it by accident. Sorry."
Fushiguro Megumi felt like the temperature had risen ten degrees despite the snow swirling around him. He tried to clear his throat, trying to wick away the scarlet blush spreading across his cheeks. But it was no use. He was never going to win against you. Never.
Your reply came almost instantly, as though you’d been waiting for it.
“Don’t apologize! I think it’s adorable. It’s like you’re carrying a little piece of me with you 🥰.”
"It’s not a big deal." he typed, trying to sound indifferent, but his fingers betrayed him as he hesitated before adding: "It does smell nice, though."
His phone buzzed almost immediately. “You’re so sweet, Megu! You better hurry so I can see you all bundled up in my scarf. I want to take a picture and enjoy the cuteness of my baby!🫶 ”
Fushiguro Megumi let out a soft groan, burying his face in the scarf—your scarf. He takes in the soft smell of your scent, while feeling your words take over him. He could feel the heat radiating from his face as he resumed walking, this time a bit faster.
He can’t run in this case, not when he’s overwhelmed by this, by you. You’ve ruined him for any other romance. This was it for him. You were it for him. And yet still, he couldn’t believe he was blushing over a scarf. Over you.
But that’s how it is. It didn’t need explanation, it didn’t need logic. That’s how it is to love you. And he wouldn’t have it any other way. Not ever. But still, as much as possible, he still wanted to play it cool.
There was a wonderfully warm feeling in his chest that he couldn’t ignore, not when it’s caused by you. Even if it was accidental, wearing your scarf made him feel closer to you, like he was carrying a part of you with him.
"I’ll be there soon, babe." he texted back simply, though his heart was racing as he hit send.
“I look forward to it! 🫶”
“I'll see you soon.”
“Love you, Megu~”
".....love you too."
══════════════════
IT WASN’T THAT LONG NOW WHEN HE MADE THE SHARP TURN TO AND ARRIVED. The faint glow of the shrine came into view, and quite expectedly, Fushiguro Megumi’s pace quickened even more now despite the biting cold.
His own breath puffed in little warm clouds as he rounded the last corner, and there you were, just like always, waiting for him by the warm illumination of the bright red shrine gates.
You seemed to be humming to yourself as you waited for him, all bundled up in the white winter coat he gave you and those bright purple gloves trimmed with faux fur you so dearly loved. You hadn’t noticed him yet when he stopped.
But when you did, your eyes widened almost so excitedly. There was a slightly excited bounce in your step as you waved at him enthusiastically, your beautiful face lighting up like the warm spring flowers blossoming when you started to register his presence. Megumi could feel his chest tightened at the sight.
The stress of trying to get here on time, the hardship of not meeting, the times he missed you — every bit of that started to fade away into nothing. He was here with you. You were here. And nothing can take that away from him, from the two of you. Because he knew it too well. He was home.
“Megu!” you called out, your tender voice cutting through the quiet winter air.
He slowed as he approached, his usual calm demeanor taking over, but the pink sunrise on his cheeks hadn’t faded. Megumi tried to casually stuff his rather cold hands into his coat’s pockets, pretending the cold was the only reason his face felt warm.
“You’re late, Megu!” you teased, though your tone was playful, and that familiar smile spread across your face.
“Sorry.” he said quietly, stopping just a few feet away. “There was a—”
“A curse?” you finished for him, watching him blink. You grinned. “I figured. You always come anyway.”
He nodded, his gaze flickering to the shrine gates. “I told you to wait here for a reason. It’s safer.”
“I know, I know.” you said, rolling your eyes with a laugh. “I always know that I’m always safe, thanks to you. But I’m also freezing, so I hope you don’t plan to keep me standing here much longer! Let’s eat dinner!”
Your grin widened as your bright doe eyes flicked to the scarf around his neck. “Especially since it looks like you’re nice and warm in my scarf.”
Megumi’s hand immediately went to the fabric, his ears turning red. “I told you, it was an accident.” he muttered, avoiding your gaze.
“And I told you, it’s cute.” you said, stepping closer.
“You’re wearing my scarf too.” He mutters under the cold winter air.
You looked down slightly, your cheeks flushing red as you smiled. “Hm! And I love it! It suits me, having a part of you with me always when I’m cold, don’t you think?”
Megumi was taken aback by what you said for a moment. His cheeks turned even redder, even though he wasn’t sure how it was possible. He hums softly, lowering his gaze shyly. “.....It does.”
The soft crunch of snow under your boots was the only sound as you closed the distance between you. You smiled at him as you stopped in front of him. You reached up, on tip toes and gently adjusted your scarf around his neck, your fingers brushing against his skin for just a moment.
“It suits you, don’t you think?” Your soft voice blossomed against the wind. Your gaze met his, as he raised his face. “Being so loved by me in winter cold too.”
He froze, his heart skipping a beat at the gesture. “You’re—you really are…..” he mumbled, though his voice was quieter, almost fond. “How can you say that so easily?”
“And you’re blushing, lover boy!” you teased, stepping back with a playful laugh. “You also said something like that too!”
“Am not.” he replied quickly, though the redness in his cheeks betrayed him.
“Whatever you say, my precious Megu~”
You reached out and took his hand, your gloved fingers curling around his as you tugged him toward the shrine gates. You wanted to keep his hand warm from the cold too. He forgot his gloves, after all. And he knew that, his gaze turning to your tender touch on his, even though the leather.
“Come on, let’s get going before we both turn into icicles.”
For a moment, Fushiguro Megumi hesitated, looking down at your hand wrapped tightly on his own. Years together still hasn’t stopped him from being so awestruck by your touch on his.
To hold someone’s hand, it made him feel like he understood what love was like. Ever since that day he met you. You made him understand, with just a touch of your hand. And still, he continues to learn love, because of you.
Megumi shook his head then he let out a soft sigh, his lips curving into the faintest hint of a smile as he followed you.Even if he’d never admit it aloud, your warmth, your wonder, your very existence, it made him whole.
And if this was a dream, he wishes he never wakes up. Because nothing of him would exist without you. He refuses to do so.
“Hm, let’s go.”
As you walked hand in hand through the snow, Fushiguro Megumi felt like your warmth and his blended together, refusing to part as you made your way away from the shrine. The thought of that made him feel like the winter was nothing, the biting chill rendered powerless against the steady heat of your presence.
It was the kind of moment that made the world feel smaller and quieter.
It was as if the universe had decided to go on a pause just for the two of you.
It was as if these two hands were meant to fit because destiny said so.
This, he thought, was more than enough to ground you both in the stillness of the winter night. The two of you ceased to talk for a while, your breaths forming soft clouds in the frosty air.
Neither of you felt the need to fill the silence. The quiet companionship you shared was enough, an unspoken understanding that words could never quite capture.
It was always like this with you. There was a gentle kind of closeness that didn’t demand anything more than your presence. It wasn’t loud or extravagant, but it was steady.
That was more than enough for him, to keep him grounded in a way nothing else could. Megumi didn’t have to explain himself, didn’t have to rush to fill the gaps, because you already understood. It was just like that between the two of you.
He glanced at you from the corner of his eye, noting the way the soft glow of the blue moonlight reflected off your hair and the peaceful expression on your face. A rare warmth bloomed in his chest, spreading slowly but surely, chasing away whatever lingering shadows had tried to follow him here.
Megumi’s grip on your hand tightened ever so slightly, his way of acknowledging what he couldn’t yet say aloud. This, he thought, was the kind of peace he didn’t know he needed. And for tonight, that was more than enough.
When you both arrived at the train station, the warmth of the moment lingered despite the cold metal benches and the faint whistle of the wind echoing through the platform. The faint hum of distant activity surrounded you, but it all felt muted, like the world had softened its edges just for the two of you.
You both sat down to wait for the train, your hands finally parting as you settled beside each other. Fushiguro Megumi shifted slightly, resting his elbows on his knees and looking out at the empty tracks.
The silence between you was comfortable, but you broke it, your voice cutting through the cold like the first hint of sunlight after a long night.
You looked up at him with a soft smile. “Happy birthday, Megu.”
He froze for a moment, blinking as if he hadn’t quite heard you. Slowly, he turned his head to meet your gaze, his brows furrowing slightly. “What?”
You giggled, the sound warm and light as you looked at his astonished face. “Happy birthday, I said.” you repeated, your smile widening.
His expression softened as realization washed over him. He let out a small, almost imperceptible sigh, his shoulders relaxing just a fraction. He shook his head, as you looked at his most adorable expressions, reserved only for you.
“I forgot, babe.” he admitted quietly, glancing away.
“I know, baby.” you said, your tone teasing but gentle. “You always forget. That’s why I’m here to remind you.”
He didn’t respond right away, his eyes fixed on the tracks ahead. But the faintest hint of a smile tugged at his lips, barely there but unmistakable. He turns his blue–green eyes to you, as though you were the most wondrous thing he’d ever set his blue–green eyes on.
“Thanks, babe.” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.
You reached into your pocket, pulling out a small, neatly wrapped package. You always were better at wrapping presents. You had the best hands in the world, warmest to touch and the most delicate with care. And perhaps that is what made him freeze for a moment.
“And because I know you’d never ask for anything, I got you this.”
He looked at the gift, his eyes widening slightly. “You didn’t have to—”
“But I wanted to, baby.” you interrupted, holding it out to him. “It’s your birthday, Megu. You deserve to feel special, even if it’s just a little.”
He hesitated before taking the gift from your hands, his fingers brushing against yours for a brief moment. He stared at it for a few seconds, his expression unreadable, before carefully peeling back the wrapping paper.
Inside was a small, leather keychain engraved with his initials on it. Attached to it was a simple charm shaped like a wolf, a perfect reflection of his shikigami. Megumi stared at it for a moment, his fingers brushing over the smooth leather and the delicate charm. It was clear you’d put thought into this, making sure every detail would suit him.
Everything about it was just to his liking. You always knew it better than him sometimes too. Its design is sleek and understated, free from unnecessary embellishments, yet carrying so much meaning.
It was practical, simple, and deeply personal, just like him. And yet, the simplicity is what made it even more special, just like he knew he was to you.
“You… put a lot of thought into this, babe.” he said softly, his voice tinged with something unspoken, something he wasn’t entirely sure how to express.
You smiled, a faint flush rising to your cheeks. “Of course I did. I wanted it to be something you’d actually use. And… well…. I thought the wolf was a nice touch.”
“It is.” he murmured, his eyes lingering on the charm.
His shikigami were a part of him, a symbol of his strength and the weight he carried in his cursed technique. But they were something he loved too. Especially his wolves. And now, here it was, captured in this small but significant token by you. Now it meant even more. Because you gave it to him. Now, it was something he could keep with him no matter where he went.
“Do you like it?” you asked, almost shyly.
Megumi looked up at you, and though his expression remained its usual calm, there was a softness in his gaze that made your heart flutter. “I do, babe.” he said simply, but the quiet sincerity in your boyfriend’s voice spoke volumes. “Thank you.”
“I thought it could keep you company, when you’re away.” you said softly, watching him closely. “You’re always busy helping people and running around. You keep doing so much for everyone else. I wanted to give you something you could keep with you, something to remind you…”
He glanced up at you, his blue–green eyes meeting yours. “Remind me of what?”
“That you’re never really alone.” you said simply, your voice filled with quiet sincerity. “That I’m always there for you, Megu.”
For a moment, he didn’t say anything, his fingers tightening slightly around the keychain. Then, almost imperceptibly, he nodded. And for a moment, those rare smiles, the smiles he could only show you. You, his most precious person. That smile had trailed on his lips for a moment.
“Thank you, babe.” he said, his voice steady but laced with something deeper—gratitude, maybe, or something even more profound that he didn’t quite know how to put into words. “I’ll treasure this well, I promise.”
You smiled, leaning back against the bench as the distant sound of the approaching train reached your ears. “Happy birthday, Megu.” you said again, your tone warm and light, your words laced with genuine affection. And then, as naturally as breathing, you added, “I love you.”
The words were simple but carried a weight that made Fushiguro Megumi’s heart stutter. He froze for a moment, wide-eyed, his usual composure shattered like glass under the heat of your confession. He’d always heard you say it over and over again. And yet…..it always made him feel like he was going to drown in your wonders.
He couldn’t help but feel himself combust with your words, the warmth spreading from his chest to his ears, and then outward until he was sure he’d melt into this cold blue winter night. Before he could even begin to stammer out a response, you squeezed his hand, your smile never fading.
“Our train’s here! We gotta go!”
Your voice snapped him out of his thoughts, and he blinked, glancing at the train now pulling into the station. You tugged him forward, your fingers laced with his, as if the moment hadn’t just turned his world upside down.
Megumi let out a soft sigh, a mix of exasperation and fondness, as he let you guide him toward the train. His blue–green eyes drifted to the keychain in his hand, its wolf charm catching the dim station light, and then to the scarf around his neck.
The warmth of your scarf, still carrying your faint, comforting scent. For someone who often felt like the weight of the world rested squarely on his shoulders, tonight felt light. For tonight, everything just felt like a gift. The greatest gift in the world.
The train doors slid open with a gentle hiss, and you both stepped inside, settling into a pair of seats by the window. As the train began to move, Megumi finally found the courage to speak, his voice quieter than usual.
“You’re ridiculous, you know?” he muttered, though there was no bite in his tone.
You tilted your head, looking at him curiously. “What do you mean?”
His cheeks flushed again, and he turned his gaze to the window, watching the snow-covered scenery blur past. “You can’t just… say things like that so casually and just….watch me combust.”
“Oh, you mean when I said I love you?” you replied with a grin, clearly enjoying his reaction.
Megumi groaned, pressing a hand to his temple. “Yes. That.”
You laughed softly, leaning your head on his shoulder. “But it’s true, Megu!” you said, your voice softer now. “I do love you, truly! And I don’t see why I shouldn’t tell you over and over again.”
He was silent for a moment, his heart pounding in his chest as your words settled over him like the softest blanket. Finally, he glanced down at you, his blue–green gaze steady despite the pink still dusting his cheeks.
“…I know.” he said quietly, his voice barely audible.
And though he didn’t say it back to you, overwhelmed by the wonders of those words on his soul, you knew that look in his eyes. That look of love, that wonder in the blue–green that said those words without leaving his lips.
It was all in his eyes that said everything you needed to hear. He struggles. But he hopes one day, he could say it to you without the struggle.
You smiled to yourself, your gloves gone. You let your warm fingers still intertwine with his as the train rocked gently beneath you. He squeezed it even more and that had made you smile even more as you looked at him.
You hummed and leaned your head against his shoulder. His breath hitches before a moment later, his head resting on your own. You giggled at that.
Tonight was perfect, you thought. Just the two of you, wrapped in warmth, as the world outside continued its quiet, snowy journey. And all you could see was the tenderness of all those shades of blue. That’s what it felt like when you were with him.
Everything was worth it. The cold was worth it. And so was the parting and the waiting. As long as you get to be with him and have this feeling of blue. As long as you could see those blues in his eyes.
Everything was worth it. Everything was worth experiencing. And you knew from the depths of his heart that he felt the same way too. Blue was the wonder of being with you. And he loves it too.
══════════════════
epilogue
Later that night when you reached your house, the warmth of the entryway light spilling into the snowy night, you turned to Megumi with a thoughtful smile. He noticed the way your bright eyes sparkled.
It was a sign you were about to say something that might throw him off. He was familiar with that look since you were in middle school. But every time, he finds himself learning the depths of that mischief in your eyes.
“So…” you began, glancing up at him with a hint of mischief. “Do you want to stay over tonight?”
Fushiguro Megumi nearly tripped over his own feet. His handsome face turned a shade of red that rivaled the setting sun, and he froze in place, his free hand holding your bag for you. You can see easily that he was clutching it nervously.
“W-What?” he stammered, his voice cracking slightly. “Why—what—why would you even—?”
You couldn’t help but giggle, watching him flounder. “It’s late, Megu!” you said, your tone as calm and reasonable as ever. “The buses aren’t running anymore, and so are the trains, you know! I’d feel bad making you walk all the way back to the dorms in this cold.”
He opened his mouth to argue, but you held up a hand, cutting him off before he could get a word in. You already knew that you had a card up your sleeve. You grinned at him and giggled, taking out your phone from your coat pocket and showing it to him.
“And before you say anything about it being improper or whatever.” you added with a knowing grin, “I already asked Gojo–san if it was okay.”
Megumi’s face somehow turned even redder, and his hand shot to his temple like he was trying to ward off a headache. He looked at your phone for a moment.“You asked Gojo?”
You nodded, looking far too pleased with yourself. “Yup! He said, and I quote, ‘As long as you don’t let Megumi brood in a corner all night, I’m fine with it! Take care of my precious son, daughter in law!’”
Fushiguro Megumi groaned, running a hand down his face. What did Gojo mean precious son? And what did Gojo mean about daughter in law? That was just….
Megumi didn’t know what to do anymore. He can’t even believe Gojo gave his number to you. He couldn’t help but feel his face echo a look of a son embarrassed by his overbearing father.
“Why would you even tell him that? Now he’s never going to let me live this down.”
You laughed, tugging gently on his hand to lead him inside. “Oh, come on. He didn’t care at all. Besides I had to, he’s your guardian! He said he’d rather you stayed somewhere warm and safe than out in the cold. Besides, it’s not like we haven’t hung out late before. We’d have sleep overs before too.”
“That’s different.” he muttered, still flustered as you closed the door behind him.
“How is it different?” you teased, tilting your head at him.
He hesitated, glancing at you and then away, his ears burning. “It just… is. I just…..”
You rolled your bright doe eyes playfully and reached up to unwrap your scarf—now his own scarf—from around his neck. “Relax, Megu. It’s not a big deal. You can have the couch if it makes you feel better. Or the guest room. I don’t think my mom will mind when she comes back! She loves you too!”
He sighed, letting you take the scarf off but avoiding your gaze. “Fine, fine.” he muttered, his voice barely audible. “I’ll….I’ll sleep here tonight.”
You grinned, your victory clear. “Come on, I think I still have some of your old clothes I took from you. I’m sure they still fit you.”
“You never returned that hoodie I used to like.”
You raised a teasing brow at him. “Do you want it back?”
“No.” He says back to you, and looks at his own scarf on your neck too. “You can keep the scarf too.”
“Good. Now come on, I’ll make some hot chocolate. Consider it a bonus birthday gift.”
As you walked toward the kitchen, Fushiguro Megumi stood there for a moment as he watched you start humming, looking for the cocoa. He let out a quiet sigh, the corner of his mouth twitching upward despite himself.
He was definitely going to hear about this from Gojo Satoru later, but for now, he couldn’t bring himself to care. He was with you. And that was more than enough for him to not care about the world outside.
#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jjk x you#jjk x y/n#jujutsu kaisen x y/n#fushiguro megumi x you#fushiguro megumi x reader#megumi fushiguro x you#megumi fushiguro x reader#megumi x y/n#megumi x reader#megumi x you#fushiguro x y/n#fushiguro x reader#fushiguro x you#jjk megumi fushiguro#megumi fushiguro#jjk megumi#jjk fushiguro megumi#fushiguro megumi#jujutsu megumi#jujutsu kaisen megumi#jjk fushiguro#megumi#jjk fluff#jujutsu kaisen fluff#megumi fluff
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short story summary here, again
im including some of my old, traditional art of the og comic i drew years ago to the recent ones BWAHHAH
[the nobody] vindrael lyndis
age: around 23 in human years
height: ~163cm
species: high elf
the protag. vin was born in a small village in the kingdom of Morgana. hes a high elf, a species that is known for their intelligence and masters of the summoning arts. all elven species are known to be very tall and ethereal and beautiful; they are born with both sets of reproductive organs and are not assigned a gender at birth (going agender by default) until they choose it themselves if they wish to do so. vin identifies as male. unlike the average high elf, vin is much shorter and bland looking which troubled him all his life. he was and is often overlooked by others as he doesnt stand out. to make up for that, he possesses extreme intelligence and a talent for the summoning arts much surpassing an average high elf. he studied and worked extremely hard and became one of the greatest summoners in the kingdom until the king himself ordered him to the court to make him his personal summoner. the king was the first ever person who truly noticed and praised him for his talents and vin started to develop feelings of romantic nature. when he learned of the betrayal, hes even more shocked and hurt than titus. he failed to see the kings change and manipulation due to his feelings clouding his eyes and mind and it shook him deeply. he comes off as timid and polite but has actually quite the temper and bad mouth. he overthinks a lot and is always stressed and on the verge of losing it. despite his rational thinking, he tends to act impulsively when hes teased and messed with too much. everyone else in their group is crazy strong and op and vin often feels like he doesnt fit in there, constantly doubting his worth and powers. he often envies others and its a trait he hates about himself; he envies zydonia specifically for the confidence he wishes he had himself. after the kings betrayal, vin feels extremely lost and insecure in the world and latches onto titus as his new meaning of life. he puts his well-being over his own, considering it to be his duty to his prince, and would follow him everywhere even if he often gets upset with titus rash decisions and empty head. titus considers them best friends and treats them both as equals but vin still treats him as a prince, putting some distance between them. only when zydonia makes him learn to prioritize his own needs and well-being and stop putting titus on a pedestal does vin grow more secure and their friendship truly turns into a warm and mutual, equal one.
[the worlds enemy] zerevni-ir yggdra dragonya ova-akhyn nggdragryl i-ihm avna (Z Y D O N I A)
age: in human years around late 20s/early 30s estimate
height: ~194cm
species: goldhorn dragon
the last dragon of his kind. a jailed king with no clan to rule anymore. the dragons are mythical beings living "above the world" and are divided into 4 clans; the goldhorns, the whitetails, the redclaws and the blackscales. each clan possesses a unique ability, ancient magic, which is passed down from king to king. the goldhorns magic is restorative, healing; the ancient magic is "resurrection" zydonia is not of royal blood. he was a common dragon and had loving parents. due to a tragic event caused by his carelessness as a child when he barely learned how to fly, he fell off the edge of the world to the mortal realm, broke his left horn and lost his parents when they tried to retrieve and protect his dying form from human hunters who were attracted by his fall. bc of his broken horn, zydonia lost a part of his dragon powers and his dragon form, turning into a much smaller, humanoid form. his parents death set off his berserker mode, a state a dragon goes in when overwhelmed by intense emotions and unleashing their powers in an extremely mass destructive burst. zydonias wrath was the most powerful and destructive anyone has ever witnessed and it led to him unintentionally wiping out the entire region. the goldclaws were attracted by his powers and came to the rescue; he was healed and brought back by the king who adopted him as his own son, fascinated by his powers and potential. despite his lost dragon form, the dragons still considered him as one of their own. even when he took over his deceased adoptive father and became king, he was loved and respected. he inherited the clans magic but is unable to use it bc of his broken horn, making him a flawed and unworthy king in the eye of another, specific dragon clan who soon came up with a plan to get their claws on his magic, murder him and take over (leaving this all out so this wont get any longer than it already is) back to the present, he was jailed in a dungeon when he got careless and was eventually busted out by titus and the others. ofc his jailbreak didnt go unnoticed and soon hes wanted all across the lands since hes considered a threat to the world due to the annihilation of an entire region when he was a kid a long long time ago; his powers as a grown dragon are much more destructive now and he possesses just one horn. he made a deal with titus; helping him grow strong and stop his father in exchange for busting him out of the dungeon and helping him find his lost horn to regain his form and powers. zydonia is very proud and confident and shameless. he comes off as easygoing, seeking amusement and always speaking his mind, no matter how naughty or "unkingly" it might be. despite his behavior, he still carries himself with a kings aura so its pretty clear he has royal manners and knows how to behave. he simply chooses not to, for the fun of it. hes stronger and more powerful than anyone else but does not brag about it and rather teaches the others how to "suck less" and get better. he only steps into fights when he knows the enemy is outclassing the others. zydonia has his eyes set on vin and loves to banter and tease. it seems he prefers people who dont like him at first and are not afraid to be honest and speak rudely to him.
[the failed prince] titus von morganastatt
age: 21 years
height: 187cm
species: human
the failed 2nd prince of Morgana. he had an older brother who he loved dearly and a onesided relationship to his father; his father neglected him a lot and didnt pay him much attention, rather favoring his brother aris who was way smarter and more capable than titus. his brother always tried to shield him from their father, willing to take on all the royal duties so titus could have a much more innocent childhood without his fathers sharp eyes and strict hand. its why titus never had to bother much with politics, diplomacy or all the "paperwork" that comes, only focusing on honing his body and eager to fight exciting battles. he doesnt understand much of such things and his father regards him as stupid and not capable to follow into his footsteps and run a country like the strict king he is himself. when aris died, it destroyed both titus and his father. unlike titus tho, his father let the grief consume and corrupt him and soon he started to plan to sacrifice his remaining son to zydonia to resurrect aris, offering a hundreds bodies for the magic to work, including vin and bell who were accompanying titus. he wasnt aware tho that zydonia is unable to use the ancient magic bc of his broken horn. titus was already aware that his father had some wicked plans and knowing for certain now makes him want to stop and save him. he pretends to be dead and starts a new life, learning how to be a proper king unlike his father and growing stronger so he can confidently return to his home and face him and end whatever he started. titus is a very purehearted and kind prince; always believing in the good of people even if someone wronged or insulted him. hes naive and a little dumb at times and always needs a bit to fully understand things. he admires vin a lot bc of his intelligence and considers him his best friend since he always stuck around him. he also looks up to zydonia and learns a lot from him, both useless and useful things in all kind of matters. when he becomes king later on, a lot of the way he handles things is how he learned from watching zydonia since hes also a king.
[the assassin] bell
age: 22 years
height: 168cm
species: human
originally hailing from an assassin clan, she was ordered to join the royal army as an undercover knight and assassinate the royal family. however, she was assigned to titus own knights and when they met, they immediately became friends. just like titus, bell is chaotic and easygoing. the way she talks might be considered rude which is smth titus finds amusing and refreshing. she behaves very bold and doesnt care what others think. when they make their deal with zydonia bell is the first who announces she will follow titus and "beat the kings ass". she was ordered to assassinate the family but after becoming friends with titus, she doesnt want to carry out that order. the clan always kept her in the shadows and theres many things she wasnt allowed to do or enjoy; titus, vin and zy are her first friends and she decides to follow their light and do the things she wants and not what is expected of her. so, pretending to have died in that dungeon is also freeing her and allowing her to live a life she always wanted. bell is really strong (both physically and verbally) and skilled; shes often considered to have "bad manners" but doesnt care how others think of her. she doesnt hesitate to kick someones ass if theyre becoming annoying. shes perceptive and a quick thinker but still a bit silly at times. she and zydonia share the same chaotic energy and combined they definitely destroy vins nerves in record time.
#SORRY ITS SO LONGGGGG#i will do the next batch another time bwahahhah these 4 are the main 4 anyway#own ocs#own art#kingslayers stuff#oc vin#oc zydonia#oc titus#oc bell#long post
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I got caught in the middle of a field once, while horses were chasing each other around being horses trying to establish where the newest one ranked. I was... 10? 11? Somewhere there. If I was alone, I'd have been a lot more panicked and calm in measure because I'd have been able to time it and dive for the fence in the biggest gap among the herd of... I think it was 8 or 9 horses, new one included. The field itself wasn't super huge, probably... 50-75 metres across, maybe a bit smaller (it has been almost 20 years, I'm going off vague Google Maps reference here) and I was in the middle so I could have made that distance quick back then (the pros of being young and also the fastest kid in your primary school at the time).
But.
But I had two other kids with me. They were... I think a year or two younger than me, one of them might have been 7ish, I can't remember exactly, only that they were younger and I was the oldest among us. I wasn't related to these kids, barely knew them or their parents, and we only went together because it was a "hey we've all earned the right to bring our horses in today!! As a treat!" kinda deal.
And, honestly, any other day, it'd have probably been fine. But the matriarch of the herd in the field seemed to have it out for the new horse that day (mine, incidentally, which turned out to be a Good Thing btw).
So the three of us get to the field, we go in because none of the neigh neighs will come to the gate and none of us are Trained Horse Specialists at this point to read that there was a Reason™ for that fact. We get to the middle of the field and we call our respective neigh neighs (mine and theirs, just one other, thankfully), and that's when things Go Wrong.
Matriarch will not accept these lower ranked neighs coming in before her. She will not accept the New Neigh going in before her.
Matriarch must now Teach A Lesson.
Cue a mini stampede of almost ten horses running full speed in this kinda tiny ass field (tbf, they alternated the paddock with the one behind it every fortnight for field management purposes blah blah), and three kids slap-bang in the middle of the field, now trapped.
I am the oldest of us. I am also the youngest of three siblings. I am not the one used to being In Charge of those younger than me. But oh boy did I step into the role like it was made for me.
I keep these kids from howling and running off, grab them with the strongest grip known to man, and make sure they stay with me okay! Stay right next to me! Do NOT run away!
And I watch these horses galloping around, chasing my horse who is so, so smart and so trusting and trustworthy for having only met and bonded with me a few days prior (literally it hadn't even been a week since we got her and she was two and had never been handled before she chose me as Her Human).
I see how she's keeping ahead of the others after her.
I see how she turns on a dime to avoid getting bit and kicked and cornered.
I see how, even though it's harder for her, she doesn't come close to us in the middle, even though it would have been an effective escape route for her several times over.
I see this and I know. I know my girl will not get us hurt if she can help it.
I also know we don't have a lot of time for us to get out and we have to go soon and move fast.
So I keep my iron grip on these two kids whose name I don't even remember (and probably didn't then, I've always been bad with names of people ngl), and I tell them, "when there's a gap, we run for that bit of fence right there okay," and it's directly in front of us, as close as we can safely get without these other 8 or 9 horses trampling us in their herd-mentality race mode.
I watch my girl and I wait for it.
I wait for her to turn when I know she's gonna.
I see the moment she's about to, unable to not turn without getting cut off and caught by the herd.
And when I do, I yell "GO" and I haul these two kids like they're the most precious, durable cargo I've ever held in my eleven years of life over to that bit of fence and I make them drop and role under.
Only the herd is faster than three kids with their inefficient two legs and differences in height and stride.
I get those kids under that fence and I have to drop and roll too because the fence is electric so I can't just grab and yeet over it (fuck but I probably could have but I was eleven and didn't know much about electricity and voltage then, or adrenaline) but I'm out of time.
My girl is all of... Christ, she was probably about five or six feet from me when I turned and saw her. The herd right on her tail.
She was terrified and being chased and running on pure instinct. The whites of her eyes were probably as big as my own were in that moment.
But my girl.
My girl with her amazing paces and even more amazing ability to turn on a single hock and pivot near 270° in a single pace saved me.
She was barely five feet from me when she up and turned and the herd, only a few more feet behind her, had to turn just as sharply to keep following her, only they couldn't because they didn't have her skill apparently.
But those few seconds her turning away from me, very likely risking injuring herself or getting caught if she failed to turn fast enough, was enough for me.
I dropped and rolled under that fence and literal seconds after I cleared it, a stampede of hooves and half-tonne powerhouses galloped past even as they tried to turn in an arc to catch my girl.
I could have left those kids in that field. I was scared, new to horses, and had a whole new responsibility shoved on me in that moment. No one would have blamed me.
My girl could have not turned on a dime, risking herself, to give me a chance. No one would have blamed her.
But I didn't. She didn't.
The things we do to protect the young, even when we're afraid or young ourselves, are the things that make us worth saving. My girl was a hero herself that day, and she saved me whilst I was saving those two kids.
It's not "human nature" to protect others, younger, weaker, needier, or just who we think we can protect in the moment.
It's just "nature".
It's the mark of empathy and by gods am I glad my girl loved me enough already to act the way she did even when terrified herself and wanting someone to protect her too.
I was rambling on the issue of museums and human remains and how certain populations are more likely to have their bodies put on display to be gawked at and then went "well I guess the Pompeii casts were of Europeans. there are bones in there right?" and Googled it to make sure, at which point I confirmed that yes there are bones in there, but more interestingly DNA testing revealed that a cast of an adult holding a child everyone assumed was a mother and child were, in fact, a man and a kid entirely unrelated to him. Honestly that's more moving to me. Maybe they were connected in a way other than blood, but maybe a stranger saw a child when the world was ending and thought the one thing he could do was hold them.
#Kat talks#Animals#Horses#Nature#Human nature or just nature#Humility and empathy are universal constants#They're not reserved for humans alone#My girl saved me then#Just like she saved my mother the day my mother got stuck in knee high mud and almost crushed by a 19 hander#My girl distracted that angry horse and led it away from my mother who was trapped#Even tho my girl was scared then too#Empathy and love are not just under the purview of humanity#They're universal to all creatures capable of thought
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Mc inserts x TWST characters
(basically non-yuu pairings I think about instead of my inbox :p)
Ignyhide vice!Mc x Jamil Viper
Mc is probably twisted from one of the little demon goons, and it makes your contrast with Jamil charmingly obvious. You’re both vices in the basketball club with an outside connection to your wardens (you figured a physical activity’ll ward Idia’s eye away) and you both hate your jobs to a comedic degree. The connection is actually really sweet and subtle!! Atleast until book 6 when Mc is complaining about their ego trippy boss while basically eating out of Jamil’s hand, feeding him information like the layout and hierarchy of styx,, as Idia’s super exclusive assistant it’s only fair to give your guests a full tour!
“geez! And he just gets so flippy-floppy, yknow? He’s got this thing about energy drinks now so I’ve been diluting them, it’s such a pain!”
“It might just be a defect with housewardens. Have you ever heard of the incompetency theory?”
Card soldier!Mc x Malleus Draconia
okay picture this- Mc is comepletely wasted and coming off the high from a holiday party that was totally killer. You wander into the woods past campus and find yourself at a little abandoned cottage, it’s like 100% cozy enough to chill in before stumbling back to the dorms. You continue heading there for pregames/drunken shenanigans, meeting up with some hot guy that hangs around sometimes. You’re fully blindsided when your “little buddy” is kicking heartslabyul ass during a spelldrive tourney..
“Yoooooo, Mally, you must be really fun at parties. Want ta’ go with me?”
“I can’t say I’ve ever been invited to a “rager” before, but it sounds.. enjoyable. I accept.”
Ignyhide freshman!Mc x Deuce Spade
You’re a shaking mess during your first track meet. It’s a graduation requirement to take at least one gym class before the end of freshman year, and you’d rather die than take flight class with all those scary seniors!! Your vice had enough sense to convince you into not dropping out, he’d said that “track is low stress!” And “you’ll enjoy it” >:( you can’t believe he’d lie to your face like that!! (Is this the AI revolution??) You guess it’s not too bad though, you’ve even started strength training with a new friend. He’s a little short tempered, but it could be a lot worse.
“hey, I had no idea ignyhide kids were into track! I thought it’d be too much sun,,”
“We’re not vampires. I wouldn’t clown on you for the tea in your thermos, so lay off.. heh, there’s totally a dormouse in there.”
Scarabia housewarden!Mc x Leona Kingscholar
It’s pretty rare to see Leona of all people in your reserved pool chair, but plenty of weird stuff’s happened during your senior case study. You’re this close to getting your big shiny diploma- and a little rest now and then won’t hurt anybody! Savanaclaw’s housewarden has only had his position since last year, and you’ve held yours through all four. After knowing of each other for so long, it’s only logical that you’d become good friends! (Not that he calls you that)
“So you’re graduating, huh? Hope that brat you chose’ll fill your shoes, you’ve worked pretty hard.”
“awh, you’re such a sap,, I’m sure you’ll like Kalim, he’s no idiot. I promise to visit whenever you decide to graduate, but it’ll be a lot easier if i get that job in the castle!”
Octavinelle sophmore!Mc x Jack Howl
Poor Jack has to deal with everyone else’s business on top of his own education, when does he get a break? That ramshackle prefect’s looking for leads on how to beat those twins in the water, and only one face comes to mind. You’re his coworker at his temp job, and you owe him a favour (atleast from your perspective, he doesn’t hold it over your head) because with your grades Azul’s got it out for you. He’s begging for you to help him out- and who are you to deny those puppy eyes?
“Jack you can’t tell him! The housewarden’ll make me quit, I need this job! :(((“
“woah, it’s not like I’m gonna blackmail you.. what kind of guy do you think I am?”
Savanaclaw freshman!Mc x Epel Felmier
You’re lost, stressed and so confused in your first year :( it feels like everything is going wrong all the time!! It’s probably like 10x worse because you’re very tall and so built, but nobody cares to peer up at the cute giraffe ears on your head! You’ve been challenged by so. many. seniors. (and you win against all of them, you’re no pushover) but you’re tired of the beef. Epel just thinks you’re the coolest person in the room, and is always saying he wants to get freaky fridayed with you. But he doesn’t get the struggle!! Atleast Jack cares enough to tell him you’re just not liking it at school, and it makes Epel kick into action- he’s not letting you drop out, so please wait until he transfers!!
Pomefiore Junior!Mc x Rook Hunt
You’re convinced that Rook c. Hunt is the worst guy in all of twisted wonderland (C for creep)! And it SUCKS because he went from your rebellious savanaclaw boytoy to.. whatever he is. (How’d you miss the warning signs when you were tongueing him??) You can always see his stupid bob in your peripheral- but you’ve rationalized that if you watch him, then he only sees what you want him to see! It’s keeping your friends close and your enemies closer, just until graduation. And it does work, until you realize you’ve given Rook an inch that he’s turned into a mile. You’ll probably never get rid of him now, but what’s the point anymore?
“Ah, mon cher! You always enchant me with your passionate gaze, I’m honoured to be the object of your attention!”
“uh.. sure thing, hon. Whatever you say.”
Diasomnia Senior!Mc x Idia Shroud
You’re a highly educated noble from the mysterious land of Briar Valley. You are poised, weirdly formal, and utterly incompetent with your newest area of study- contemporary technology. You’ve tried to convince yourself that it’s pointless, they don’t even use it at home! But if you want to travel anytime before the collapse of human civilization, it must be done. you’re insatiable with your thirst for knowledge, and completely enamoured with having first hand experience with every era of mortal tech. It also happens to be almost impossible to revive your “Kno-Keya” once it has decided to die. That is where Idia Shroud comes in.
“In exchange for the revival of my electronic mailing device i am willing to offer an extensive dowry befitting of your station and technological necromancy skill. Will it suffice?”
“I literally only charged your phone, uh.. WOAH, A DOWRY?? I don’t have the space for five horses!! I’m totally not prepped for the marriage route, I haven’t the wiki yet!”
#twst yuu#twst x reader#yuu twisted wonderland#twst#disney twst#disney twisted wonderland#twst wonderland#jamil x yuu#jamil twst#jamil twisted wonderland#jamil x reader#twst jamil#twisted wonderland jamil#malleus draconia#malleus x reader#malleus x yuu#malleus twst#malleus twisted wonderland#deuce twisted wonderland#deuce spade x reader#deuce x reader#deuce spade#deuce twst#deuce spade x yuu#leona twst#leona twisted wonderland#leona kingscholar#leona x reader#leona kingscholar x reader#leona kingscholar x yuu
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Jude Bellingham x Fem Reader
cw… bdsm, caning implied, consent, handcuffs, restraints, blood, wrist pain, a lot of pain, doggy, slightly edited, bruises, etc
notebook… Yall college has been nothing but fucking awful. So yeah I disappeared. Hopefully next semester is better, ALSO I am starting a book. I want to write a romance vampire novel with adventure. (This is totally gonna take me five ish years with this fuck ass schedule of mine.)
Your hands slipped consistently off the wooden board, your knees cushioned by the mattress below. The comforts for your knees meant nothing, your heart beating each pump being loud within your ears. Your ass covered in red streaks, dark spots slowly spreading around. Your body shivered as if it was the coldest day of the entire year; funnily enough, your body was warm, so warm you were dripping down your own legs.
“Had enough?” A deep voice from behind whispered beside your ear; it was strong, loud enough to overshadow your own heart. Your mouth covered by your own panties, drool dribbling down your chin. The lacy fabric bought for this special night is no longer where it was supposed to be. Your wrists were burning, the metal no longer soothing amongst the skin. Your makeup smeared all over your face, your lipstick no longer perfectly aligned around those two lips.
“Mhm.” You weakly attempted to speak, your jaw being locked in place. The pain forced your teeth to clench so tightly the gag did nothing to stop you from talking; it was your jaw. Your hands continuously attempting to grab onto the wooden headboard, no use; the wetness on them causing your wrist to lose grip and hurt your wrist over and over.
“I doubt it; you did this to yourself.” His beautiful two-toned lips pressed right at your temple. Your appearance did not display your true enjoyment. Jude was your lover after all; he would never harm you if you did not want this. It all started because he was curious; you joined him on this journey, and here you were. On your knees, wrist stinging, ass covered in bruises, most importantly dripping wet.
“You want me to fuck you?” His hand raised to your hair and pulled it back. Your face looking rougher than before. “Touch your clit like you want? Just beg, baby.”
“Mhm.” He smirked at the desperate whine. He was wearing only a button-down and dress pants. He let go of your head, forcing your head to drop down at such movements. He made you look at him, gripping your chin and forcing you to look at his every move. His hand pushing against the sleeves and folding them over. One by one, his large hands removed a button from his dress shirt. Only a few were left before he moved to his dress pants.
“You worship me so well, baby.” His lips raised to a smirk, and he pushed your head away. He climbed onto the bed; there his hand touched your bruised ass. “Your poor ass, I’ll take good care of you.” You heard him lowering his boxers from behind you. In minutes you felt his cock prodding at your cheeks. His hand reached for your hair; he gripped it, wrapping it in his hand. Forcing your head back.
“Good girl.” His other hand touched your warm, shivering body, gripped at your waist; he loved every mark on you, the one he made on you, and the scars you brought before you two ever met your beautiful marks. You called them blemishes; he would never. “You don’t deserve prep.”
“MHM!” A cry erupted; your body weakly attempted to grab at the board, the sweat causing them to slip. You felt it, hips being rocked in and out of you. This is all you wanted: you needed him, to be close to him. Perhaps a few would call this brutal or disgusting. You paid no mind to other opinions. Jude was your world, and making him happy and yourself happy is all that matters.
His hand raised, slapping at your left ass cheek, his other hand still holding your hair, forcing your head back. His cock going into your dipping wet cunt, from all the pain inflicted on your body, you were needy. Desperate for him to finally fill you up with what you desired, he enjoyed this foreplay. He loved it; you rarely ever used the safe word. He knew pain made you needy, and watching you in pain created a monster from within.
“So tight,” he groaned, “taking me so well.” His hand that slapped your ass caressing the bruises, even during these harsh sexual encounters, you felt the tender touches he allowed linger. You could only imagine the face of pleasure he currently held. The way his beautiful brown skin complimented yours. The way his dress shirt is messed up, your eyes were shut, creating an image in your mind.
It took several thrusts into your cunt to cause the feeling to slowly become unbearable to ignore. It tingled from within. Causing you to moan into your panties. His thighs hitting your bruised ass caused pleasure and pain. You eventually managed to grab at the headboard, your hair still being in his grip.
“Getting louder and tighter, baby.” You tried to nod, but his hand gripped your hair tighter, preventing you from nodding. His thrust was clean and precise; it hit the right spot every single time. The feeling of an impending orgasm no longer allowed you to ignore it. You wanted to cum; you craved his touch. You knew he was having an ego boost, not just from just handling you so well but from his successes. He was extremely successful, scoring goals in every single match—an impressive feat for a midfielder.
“You want to cum?” There was a hint of playfulness in his tone. He knew you wanted to cum, and he had no intention of stopping you. He held a plan to fuck you even after you cum. He was close; that was not something he could deny. He wasn’t as close as you thought. “I will allow you to cum; all you have to do is spit those panties out and beg.”
In a matter of seconds, you tried to spit the panties out; unfortunately, it wasn’t easy. It slipped out of your mouth with more drool than anything. “Please, Jude, let me cum. I’ve been good!”
“Good girl.” He gripped your hair even tighter; finally, he could hear your gasps and moans without the panties in your mouth. He wanted to hear you cry out in pleasure when you cum. “Go ahead.” He thrust harder than before; his free hand, no longer on your cheek, snaked down to your clit. His long and skinny fingers rubbing circles with the right pace.
“Shit.” Your cunt clenched on him tightly, and your legs shook with fury. Your hands lost grip once more on the headboard, and with his permission, he let go of your hair. Your head dropped, followed by his hands gripping at your waist and quickening the pace, thrusting with purpose. You cried out in pleasure, the orgasm washing through you; immediately you realized he wasn’t stopping. “Too much!”
“You asked to cum, baby; you made the choice.” Your ears picked up the teasing tone. You could not stop the shaking, the pain of being overstimulated. He did not stop his two fingers rubbing at your clit. He ignored your pleas; he was chasing the high he deserved. He pleased you, and it was your turn to treat him. “Ugh! Fucking close!”
You tried hard to pull away, but each time was futile; his body thrust deeper each time, and he would press just a little harder on your clit at your attempts. Your tears quicken down your face, your wrist becoming almost naked by the rubbing. You were no longer grabbing onto anything, causing your wrist to ache in pain. His thighs began to tense, his thrust kept at the pace, not slowing down for a second.
“So fucking good!” He smirked at how he was close. Then there it was, the feeling of being full. You were about to orgasm once more, and you knew this one had something else. You cried louder, begging him to slow down; he could care less. Then it happened; he thrust so deep he felt you clench harder than before, and a grunt left his lips. His head was thrown back, and that was it. Your body burst in pleasure, and the sheets below you were covered by your own sweet liquids. Your legs shook so much you no longer supported your knees, and you fell down, his cock slipping out.
“How pathetic; you ruined our sheets.” He groaned in pleasure, his cock dripping his cum; your cunt was full already. He climbed over you gently and removed the key from his neck and unlocked your wrist. He would never let you lie there exhausted and your wrist aching. He loved you too much.
#fanfic#x reader#oneshot#smut#jude bellingham × reader#jude bellingham fanfic#jude bellingham one shot#jude x reader#jude bellingham#jude bellingham x reader#jude bellingham smut#real madrid smut#real madrid#real madrid x reader#soccer x reader#soccer smut#soccer#jude bellingham drabble#Jude smut#champions league#ballon d'or
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That post about Prorva and Lamarr (love the HL reference) has got me thinking. Like.
Sebastian is not a good parent in any sense of the word. But in the circumstances given he is the only reason Prorva is alive when he could have easily killed her for food (as shown in your first few posts about her. Normal fish behavior), out of “mercy” (Urbanshade has never and is especially currently not a safe space for children or offspring). But he kept her alive, gave her his old jacket (weather its because he wanted to give her something special to him, wanted to keep her clothed, or even just wanted to get rid of the jacket is up for debate). But there is at least some amount of caring. I get the whole joke is Sebastian is a terrible dad and isn’t afraid of that fact but like. There must be something.
Im a sucker for angst so just. Something happens to Prorva. Not sure if in her current age or sometime while she was growing. Bad encounter with an Angler/Pandemonium, set off a tripwire trap, bugged turret, or just something that has Prorva hurt bad. Would that be a chance for Sebastian to show a more caring side? Im sure he’d mock her and complain about waisted supplies but like. If he fears, even for a second that she is dead or might die, would it show? Would Prorva notice? Would it affect their relationship as father and daughter? Is or would Sebastian be protective of her, even just a little?
Sorry about the ramblings. Im just obsessed with angst sjfbejfbdk
In fact, we should give Sebastian credit: he was able to raise a little bro in this godforsaken place where anything could kill you, especially a small child. In a place where you're always wondering what you're gonna drink and eat tomorrow so you don't die of stomach ulcers. In the cold and total unsanitary conditions, where if you catch a cold, you are very likely to die. We can berate Seb endlessly for what a bad father he is, but on the other hand, the basic parenting functions he performed: Prorva is alive, healthy, fed, clothed. Objectively yes, Sebastian has made a lot of mistakes and screwed up (a lot), but on the other hand he was sent to Hadal Blacksite barely a young adult, barely knowing how to do anything alone in this world, and now he's a 32 year old adult and he's a fish that has to figure things out on his own. It's crazy. He's understandable.
Yeah. Even though Sebastian is an ass most of the time, but if a situation happens to a gremlin that puts her life in danger - he won't stand by. Yes, Seb will be passed, swear a lot, probably mock, but he'll help (even if he says he's not going to deal with that shit). He can be caring (though he expresses it in his own way) if the situation really demands it.
For the moment, Prorva's whole life revolves around Sebastian. He's the only person close to her. She senses any changes in his behavior and actions, but his complex emotions she will not understand due to her immaturity. After all Seb is an unstable and complicated person.
It's okay, I enjoy reading and writing this kind of musings (especially if it's about angst) ( ´∀` )b
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you're the worst thing (i'm addicted to) + part 6
a john wick x Helen'sSister!Reader fic You are Helen's baby sister. Set a few years after the first movie, 2-4 never happened. Use of y/n. Warnings: canon typical violence. Smut. Mourning. More smut. Forbidden romance. Grey areas. Questionable decisions. Sweetheart!John, BAMF!John Depressed!John - If you can handle the movie you should be fine here... divider by saradika-graphics PART 1 PART 2 PART 3 PART 4 PART 5
And I, I come here to be what you need, so you can fly, so you can fly -Detune, Kaleida
PART 6.
You always thought the boxy behemoth of John and Helen’s house looked more like a museum than a home. The dramatic lighting in the landscaping out front reinforces this impression, though gliding into the garage where the Mustang gives one last dying rumble before John kills the ignition maybe contradicts this notion.
You have the startling realization that you have never been here, without Helen.
You see no traces of her in the garage. Her Lexus is gone. A motorcycle is parked where her SUV used to be. You wonder if John cleaned out her other belongings inside. It’s none of your business, how he decided to handle the remnants of her things, but the thought makes your heart ache in your chest all the same.
“Ready?” he asks quietly, perhaps sensing your inner turmoil as you sit dead still in the passenger seat for too long, paralyzed in your thoughts of your sister.
Not sure if it’s true, you nod anyway, making to extricate yourself from the low-slung sports car. John removes your duffel from the trunk, slinging the strap of the bag over his shoulder. You’d thought it heavy, but he handles it like you’d packed nothing but a bag of feathers, and it’s possible you admire the view of his powerful form from behind as you follow him inside.
A part of you still can’t believe you are doing this.
Now that your thoughts are only partially clouded by lust, your inner voice of judgement is still yet undecided as to how much loathing you deserve for this escapade. The garage leads into a mudroom, then the kitchen. John tosses his keys into a wooden bowl and flips a light. The open plan of the house gives you a clear view across the dining area and the recessed living room, and something in your heart unclenches as you realize he has not changed a thing.
All of Helen’s carefully curated curios and objet d’art remain in place, and it’s almost as though she’s still there, in a way. Your eyes fill with tears, and desperately you try to blink them away before John notices you’re having a mini-crisis over the sight of Helen’s coffee table books on modern architecture.
You are saved by the sound of claws clicking on the tile floor. A handsome blue pitbull trots up to you, immediately leaning on your legs after a perfunctory sniff. “Oh. Who’s this?” you ask, leaning over to pet the friendly fellow.
“That’s Dog,” John answers with the chagrined smile of a man who knows your next thought will be something along the lines of “You couldn’t be bothered to actually name your dog?”
In an attempt to be original, you let it go. “What a sweetie.”
You wonder what changed Helen’s mind from her original plan. “I thought she was getting you a beagle for some reason,” you remark quietly as Dog licks your chin. You scratch him behind his ears and down his back, smiling as he wiggles blissfully under your longish nails.
John sighs heavily in response. “Yeah.” You sense there’s a whole explanation behind that one word, and maybe you’d talked a tough game back in your apartment, but it’s late, and you’re tired, and you find you don’t have the mettle to pry any more explanations out of this man tonight.
Especially not ones that seem like they’re going to hurt him.
You get the sense that John has endured a lot in his lifetime. The last thing you want is to cause him more pain.
He weighs you with those soulful eyes, and you can’t help but feel like he’s reading a little too much between your lines. “I…can prepare the guest room for you, if you prefer?”
You wonder if he senses your unease in this new and tricky situation–or if he’s the one changing his mind.
“I’m not…sleeping with you?” you ask, trying and failing to hide your own disappointment at hearing this proffered out.
“Only if you want to.”
You find the last thing you want tonight, is to toss and turn with your thoughts of Helen, alone.
You can still see the hint of lace of your panties peeking out from his breast pocket, and a part of you wishes he would just sling you over his shoulder and take you to bed.
And take all the blame, you chide yourself.
No. If you’re digging this hole…you’re doing it together.
Maybe it’s not entirely fair, the way you close the space between you slowly, your heels clicking on the tile. “What do you want, John?” you ask gently, and you don’t mean to purr it so sweetly, but it just comes out of you when you’re with him. And maybe it’s also not fair, when your hands find his trim torso, sliding under the warmth of his suit jacket. You feel he is strung taut as tightrope beneath his fine clothes; yet the moment you touch him something seems to let go.
His eyes slide closed, and he does not answer you with words, ducking to press his lips to yours. Whatever feelings of guilt had been stewing beneath your skin utterly evaporate, immolated by the fire this small gesture ignites within you again.
“Me too,” you admit against his pillow-soft lips, and you think his huff of self-deprecating laughter is nine tenths relief.
“Come on.” He nuzzles your nose with his before turning to lead you upstairs.
You realize you’ve been in his bedroom before–but again, only with Helen, as she shared some new pair of shoes or designer dress she’d bought, putting on a fashion show for you in the walk-in closet, usually before foisting “hand-me-downs” she'd never actually worn (and clearly bought with your taste in mind) upon you.
It certainly feels different now, the neatly made bed glowing in the moonlight streaming through the floor to ceiling windows. You know that they’re mirrored on the outside, but you still wonder how one goes about not feeling like they live in a fishbowl. You suppose you are unaccustomed to living in a house without close neighbors. It’s a luxury you could never afford in the city.
John turns on a lamp, and sets your bag gingerly by the bed. “I’ll make room for you in the closet.”
You’d barely packed enough to require it, but still you nod, touched by the thought because you never would have presumed to ask. “Tomorrow,” you say quietly, your hands finding their way under his jacket again, pushing it from his shoulders. You drape it carefully over the back of a nearby chair, certain it cost more than your rent.
He watches you with those soulful dark eyes, and you feel yourself melting all over again. He seems to enjoy your hands on his body as you slowly work on undressing him, loosening the knot of his tie, sliding the patterned silk from under his collar. You move on to his shining white gold cufflinks. “Pretty,” you compliment, working the toggles carefully.
He hesitates a moment before admitting, “They were a gift.”
“I know. I helped Helen pick them out from Dunhill.”
He looks at you from beneath his lashes, the flash of sorrow in his dark eyes fathomless as the sea at night. He still hurts so much, and you understand. You feel it too.
“It’s ok,” you say, speaking to yourself as much as him. “We should say her name. We shouldn’t skirt around it. I want to remember her.” You don’t want her name to be taboo between you, even if what you are doing is more than a little fucked up.
He closes his eyes, dipping his head in agreement. “Thank you.” You get the feeling he means for more than just helping your sister pick out an anniversary gift for him. You just nod, and he presses his forehead to yours. You stand like that for a long while, two people who are broken but maybe, just maybe, have found a bit of light in each other against the crushing gloom.
You fancy that you feel the exact moment, when John makes up his mind for certain about you. He gathers you to him with a new edge of desperation, grips your curves just this side of too hard, like you might slip away if he doesn’t hold on to you. His mouth slants over yours, and you take the onslaught of his passion gladly, holding him to you with arms around his neck as he devours you. The fine zipper down your spine proves no obstacle for his clever hands; your dress slides down your body, pooling around your ankles.
The hunger in his expression as he looks down at you in just your strapless bra makes your legs weak–it doesn’t matter, because he holds you, and he’s not letting you go. His voice comes rough with the edge of desire: “Y/n…I know I don’t deserve you. But God do I want you.” He doesn't give you much of a chance to answer, manhandling you onto the bed like you weigh nothing, which isn’t the case at all.
You would have told him that you want him too, more than you've ever wanted anyone, but his mouth is on yours and you're happy to kiss him instead. His lean body presses you down deliciously into the soft mattress; you open eagerly, twining your legs with his, holding him to you. He's still completely clothed, and you make an attempt to undo some buttons, craving his bare skin on yours like air to breathe. The promise of his hard groin against yours makes your vision spin.
“I’m sorry,” he growls, seemingly at your breasts as he moves down your body, his hot mouth searing trails of fire down your skin. Your brain function is not at its best at the moment–you’re not sure what he’s talking about at all, and he doesn’t expand on his point until his teeth are grazing the curve of your hip.
“I haven’t…been with anyone…since Helen,” he explains, his voice rough with want. “I might be…a little rusty.”
You have to bite down on a laugh. Not because it’s funny, but because it’s so endearing you could scream, and if this is John Wick when he feels like he’s not on his game…you don’t think you can handle this man at his best.
“I don’t think you have to worry,” you sigh as he kisses the inside of your thigh, moaning as his soft lips travel higher. It’s almost embarrassing how wet he finds you, when he slips the tip of his thumb just past your weeping hole. The sound he makes is more animal than man as he falls to his knees at the edge of the bed, guiding your legs over his broad shoulders, and when his tongue touches your clit you see God. You cannot sit still but he holds you down with one big hand spanned across your belly, two of his fingers sliding inside you as he laves at your aching slit.
“John,” you pant, your hands fisted in the bedspread out of desperation for something to hold on to, your back arched like a bow as he gives you this blissful pleasure between your thighs. “Please…” You can hardly think past his mouth upon you, your brain gone completely offline while in this man’s skillful hands. “Please, I want you inside me?”
He growls against you, making your toes curl. You’re not sure if he’s arguing with you, or himself, but in the end he withdraws, wiping his mouth on the bedspread before standing between your legs. He towers over you from this vantage, and in a blissful stupor you watch him undo the buttons of his shirt with deft fingers. You find yourself holding your breath as he reaches the last one; a whine escapes you as he pauses in the unveiling.
“Y/n…I have to warn you…I have scars.”
He seems self-conscious about this, or maybe afraid of how you might react. You sit up, giving him your full attention.
“It’s ok.”
“I don’t…want to scare you.”
You touch his hands on his shirt halves lightly; it’s possible you're trembling. “I watched you take out three guys tonight and stab one of them in the leg…and I’m still here.”
He lets out a long, shaking sigh, nodding. “Yeah.”
“I’m kind of figuring out that you’re a dangerous man. But I don’t feel like you would ever hurt me. Am I wrong?”
“No,” he answers immediately.
“Ok. Then take off your shirt, please,” you say with a hint of insouciance you hope will break his hesitance, your lips curving in a smirk. You unclip your bra in a gesture of solidarity, tossing it to the foot of the bed.
He looks down at your bare form with a tenderness in his eyes that warms you all over. Are you allowed to look at each other like that yet? Like you are something precious to behold? There are unofficial rules against this, but you feel yourself doing exactly the same. You feel yourself falling, hard, and you don't have the sense tonight to catch yourself before you hit rock bottom.
“Cheeky girl,” he chides you gently, and you can see your ploy succeeded in nudging him out of his cycle of self doubt, at least for now.
“You want me to be quiet, John?” you tease him further, reaching for his belt. “Give me something to put in my mouth.”
He makes a sound low in his throat that makes you think of predatory animals that stalk the deep dark forest at night. For a moment you get an inkling of the beast that lurks beneath this man's skin as he pushes you back down on the bed with a hand that engulfs the base of your throat, his gaze sharpening upon you in a way that sends a wave of gooseflesh rolling across your skin, your nipples tightening painfully. He kisses you, hard, and once more you forget everything due to this man's mouth upon you.
Through half closed lids you watch him shrug out of his shirt, tossing it in the general direction of the chair. He was not joking about the scars; your eyes sweep over his torso, your lips parted with awe, your thighs pressed in an unconscious effort to relieve some of the exquisite ache inspired by seeing him like this, a god of war finally bared before you.
You inventory the evidence of past altercations. Cuts large and small, and puckered round rosettes of flesh you can only assume must have been bullet wounds. This man has endured so much, and your heart aches for him, even as you know he must have given just as good as he got.
You fixate on a long, thick scar that leads down the center of his abdomen, disappearing into his waistband; the sight of it makes your mouth water.
He's beautiful, scars and all. Maybe more so, because of them. This man has been to hell and back– and now he's chosen to be here, in this precious moment, with you. Your fingertips itch to reach for him, to trace his contours and hollows and the evidence written on his skin that he's cheated death more than once. But he seemed to want you where he put you, and so you wait, trembling inside like a blossom waiting for the kiss of the dawn to open.
You watch as he divests himself of the gun again, tucking it into the drawer of the nightstand. You see him eyeing the lamp, considering plunging the room into darkness again, and you click your tongue in warning. “You're not shy, are you John?”
He narrows his eyes at you, though he smiles like he enjoys your teasing. “You’re not going to let me get away with anything, are you?”
“I think you're beautiful, and I want to see you while you fuck me.” Again, there's a flash of that predatory look behind his eyes, a leviathan surfaced from the depths, there and gone. It’s possible that you squirm a little, when he fixes you with that sharp black gaze, and you don't notice for a good long moment when he's finally taken off his pants, because you can't stop looking at his eyes.
“I think you’re beautiful too,” he tells you, and finally he is crawling towards you, and you can run your hands over the expanses of his powerful physique. The curves of his biceps and the plane of his chest. The ladder of his ribs and his trim waist, and the velvety hard length of his manhood filling your hand. He groans into the bend of your neck as you stroke him, guiding him where you need him most between your legs.
“I want you so much, John. I need you.”
He pulls back to look at you with the expression of a drowning man. You think you’re beginning to understand him better. That the thing he wants most deep down is to be wanted, and that maybe it surprises him, that you do. It breaks your heart a little, that he’s so taken aback by that, like he can’t quite allow himself to believe it.
He’d said he hadn’t had a happy life before Helen. You wonder what exactly that entailed. All this flashes through your mind in a millisecond before you guide him to your entrance, teasing yourself with his tip slicked delectably with your own juices. You should take a moment to grab a condom, new partner and all, but you’re on birth control, and you simply do not have the willpower to leave his arms.
He lowers himself so that he is pressing you down into the soft mattress with his body and his mouth on yours. He rolls his hips, his thick cock gliding against your folds torturously. You throw your head back, keening with need, the muscles of your pussy cramped so tightly with desire that it hurts. “Please? I’m so empty without you.”
Maybe he senses the truth in your plea. It is the thing that breaks him, unable to tease you anymore. You groan as his thick head pushes past your entrance, just a taste but god it feels like heaven. He buries his face in your neck as he thrusts, little by little until he is fully sheathed inside you.
“So fucking good,” he groans into your hair, and you hold him against you, your nails digging into his back as you hook your leg on his hip, pulling him deeper. “My good girl, taking me so well.” He rocks against you, rubbing your clit with his pubic bone as he fills you better than anyone ever has, and you are already on the edge of climax, your pussy fluttering around his length. You squeeze him inside you, winning a moan that feels like you've won a prize.
He fills you like he was made for you, and you are lost. Lost in the sensation of him inside you, engulfing you–you’ve never felt so claimed, nor, you reckon, have you ever submitted to a man so gladly.
“You going to cum for me, y/n?” With his thumb on your clit as he thrusts, hitting that perfect spot inside you, it feels more like a demand than a request, or maybe just a sure prediction.
“Yes. Fuck. John…”
You lose the faculty for higher language as your second orgasm of the night crashes through you, ecstasy ripping up your spine like a tidal wave. Maybe because it’s been a while like he said, or just maybe because he’s that into you, John loses it too as he feels the clench of your greedy little cunt milking him, thrusting deep inside you as he fills you with the hot flood of his release.
Maybe it should scare you, that you’ve never connected so perfectly with another man–but all you can manage in this moment is to hold him to you like you have no intention of ever letting him go. It feels like a long time before he rises from what the French call the little death, and how true it is. How is it possible to feel so exhausted, yet born anew?
Words seem to escape him as much as you; instead he kisses you, a long and languorous lock of lips that curls your toes all over again, your pussy clenching in answer around his still semi-hard manhood inside you. It wins you another groan that makes you chuckle against his lips.
The first thing he says to you after this complete mutual ruin is: “Imp,” and all you can do in answer is grin against his mouth triumphantly.
He’s not wrong.
The two of you barely manage to clean yourselves up before you are snuggling down into the covers together, falling into a deep sleep. Maybe it’s foolish of you, but tangled up tightly in John Wick’s strong arms–you feel as though nothing can hurt you.
#john wick#john wick x reader#sister fic#keanu reeves#john wick x you#john wick x y/n#thank you everyone for being so patient with this fic 😭😭😭#you've been waiting a long time#just over a year in fact#ack! i'm sorry!
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i wrote a short thing about OFF, and my relationship to it as its translator; thoughts ive wanted to put into words for a while.
you can read it here as well, under the cut.
wait! wait... there is more to be said about OFF than, at the time of my previous review, i had the bandwidth for. i had, temporarily, reached a point of saturation with it - you only regurgitate a game's text again and again so many times until you start getting a bit weary of it, after all - but now that the bomb has burst and the remake is public knowledge (i kept that stuff secret for 2+ years!), i have the peace of mind to really unpack this. OFF was my companion for the late end of my teen years and more or less the whole of my current adulthood. the better - maybe even the best parts of my life - were (at least in part) shaped by adoration for and dedication to this game and its story. OFF survived the beginning and end of several friendships and relationships (romantic or otherwise) throughout my life, and i project it will survive many more - if not me, as a living human being. and i hope you understand that this is a lot to put into writing. can you imagine? something you did at 16 years old, because you were bored and liked a video game; a text someone else made, passed through you like a pamphlet - outgrowing you like that, becoming larger than you may ever be? i wrestle with that feeling frequently. some would grow resentful of the object of this kind of ruminating, especially as a writer and gamedev themselves- but i can't find it in me to ever hate OFF, no matter how often i hear about it; there simply is nothing like it. OFF has created several core memories that i can flash back to. i remember the knot in my stomach at its ending. i remember that it was time to sleep, and i remember staring at the ceiling, closing my eyes, and seeing void behind them, with white bedsheet ghosts floating there. i remember the resolve to translate it. i remember: "i have to show this to decon" (a friend that i've long since stopped speaking to). i remember isaiah (friend i lost touch with, number 2) asking me to keep working on the translation because he loved the game and wanted to know what happens in zone 2. i remember a vacation in france i mostly spent on a shoddy laptop my grandmother owned, on slow (maybe dial-up) internet, tinkering in RPG maker 2003, trying to make more headway in a language i only barely knew better than the one i was translating from. i remember this more than the majority of the relationship that introduced me to the game. that's sad to consider, isn't it? can a story be more significant than a person? i was very unwell for large parts of the time i spent working on this translation. i had dark thoughts; i feared impossible and possible things both. i was depressed, and i made very real attempts to turn the world in the only window i know - my eyes - off. permanently. and maybe- that is why OFF is larger than me. because in the negative space of its conclusion, in the turning of the final switch from ON to OFF, there lies a question: "is all this despair, all this hurt, all this misery and all of this unsolvable injustice of this world worth it?" and OFF, in my opinion, says: yes. or at least, for me it did. i'm not letting go of these memories, or of these stories, or of my adoration for this game. i love it more by the day. i owe a lot to it. this isn't a funeral, it's a celebration. thank you, OFF, and thank you, mortis ghost. i would not be here, i would not be this, and i would not be me without you.
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phoebe hourcat's favorite piarles fics of 2024 <3
hiiiii everyone! i was inspired by @delicate44's fic rec post in the piarles tag earlier and realized that i should do my part and shout about the fics i LOVED this year!!!
it was a pretty good year for piarles canon, but it wasn't a bad fic year by any means, either 😉 i did my very best to spread my recs evenly and as unbiased-ly as possible...but you know how it be sometimes.
so without further adieu, i present: my favorite fics from this year, in no particular order, that deserve All The Awards. 💖
"We could go," Pierre says. "To Lourdes, I mean."
here in procession by fromnowhere
Charles is even more beautiful than he was in the photo. He’s wearing a black coat - conservative, but nice. Designer if not a few seasons old, and he’s not wearing a hat or a scarf, but he does have on gloves when he extends a hand out to Pierre. Which Pierre takes, trying not to falter under the sheer beauty of him. “Hello,” Charles smiles, eyes crinkling up. “It’s so nice to meet you.” And without hesitation, he leans in and kisses Pierre on the cheek - once on the left and then on the right. It’s been so long since Pierre was greeted this way, it shocks him for just a moment. He’s beautiful and he smells like cologne and something fresh and he’s still not let go of Pierre’s hand - the cool leather underneath Pierre’s hand seems so…foreign. So flipped.
cause baby, I'd be satisfied forever by tiredtiredsharl (nsfw)
“You know,” Frédéric’s hands are crossed in front of him, fingertips tightening after every pause, “there is only one thing that brings stability to a Kingdom without it being a marriage.” Charles draws in a sharp breath—he knows, nodding almost imperceptibly once Frédéric falls into a hesitant silence. A courtship.
hearts in the byline by ilpredestinato
The one where Charles’ drink gets spiked with the omegaverse version of a fuck-or-die drug. (Pierre helps.)
you filling my cup (the sun coming up) by ohmygasly (nsfw, chussy)
Charles Leclerc, a brilliant young chef from the fine-dining world, is forced to return home to run his local family restaurant - Monaco's "Le Cheval Cabré" - after a heartbreaking death in the family. A world away from Michelin Stars and the realm of fine dining, Charles must confront the anguish of his past and find a place in the life he once thought he'd given up for good. All the while, Pierre, a ghost from his childhood and the only true friend he's ever had, remains firmly by his side and he doesn't seem to be going away anytime soon.
Le Cheval Cabré by m00nlightE
Pierre might be many things, but he’s not someone that takes his chances lightly.
taking your time by Anonymous (nsfw)
“I could hurt you,” Pierre says reproachfully to what he can see of Charles' blushing face. Most of it is buried sideways into his pillow. “Y’wdnnt,” Charles garbles into the fabric. “Pardon?” Charles’ whole body twitches then he finally lifts his head — green-gold eyes locking onto Pierre’s. “You would not,” Charles repeats, taking care to enunciate each word. “Oh?” Pierre asks, snide, because how dare Charles gamble so casually with his own health? “Taken a lot of Alpha cocks up the ass then, have you? A regular pro at it?”
Indomitable by Anonymous (nsfw, chussy)
Charles Leclerc was maybe one of the biggest pop stars in the world until he burned it all down. One year of sobriety means that the label wants their album - an album he can't write - and the answer might just reside inside his not quite ex-boyfriend that is a fantastic song writer and producer.
first bloom by tiredtiredsharl (nsfw)
charles wakes up in the middle of the night. he gets an idea, then gets twisted in knots about it. good thing pierre is always willing to try anything charles suggests.
wake up slow (we don't need to go outside) by Anonymous (nsfw, chussy)
“Five minutes. After five minutes.” Charles drags his tongue flat up the length of Pierre’s weeping cunt. “Or ten.” He tenses his tongue into a point. Dips inside. “Then we will sleep.”
sleep aid by Anonymous (nsfw, pierrussy)
Charles doesn’t plan to sleep with Pierre over the summer break, but it happens nonetheless.
worth it just to know by fiveandnocents (nsfw)
or… what if the world was suddenly plunged into omegaverse and everyone started presenting at once.
sudden changes by ginnydear (nsfw)
a letter, a proposition, a phone call.
you know i'm down seven days of the week by pipwrites (nsfw)
Pierre has dedicated his life to this singular thing and The Society is about to write his name next to the few other scientists who were patient like him - who were dedicated like him. The names of the people that inspired him, the stories of men who had been sailing or mountaineering. Who lived in tiny cabins like he did. Pierre will be one of them. “Come on, Leo.” He calls to Leo, trying to keep it from bursting out of his chest - the feeling of accomplishment - as he takes off in a jog for the treeline. “Let us make history.” Or, Charles falls and Pierre finds him.
if you'll be my star by tiredtiredsharl
Pierre loses a bet and has to shave, and it's odd, but Charles could live with that. Who seem to not be able to is their daughter, who doesn't recognise her favourite papa without a beard.
daddy's best friend by duquesademiel
Charles’ heat has been regular since the day he first presented. He has it systematically tracked and, other than Pierre, he would consider it the most dependable thing in his life. Sauber knows his cycle because Charles saw no point in hiding it from them and he knows that it is very likely that it has been shared with the FIA as well because races are scheduled neatly around the weekends that he is required to lock himself in his room and fuck himself on a fake knot until he passes out from exhaustion or dehydration or both. It is, ultimately, something that doesn’t affect his racing career at all. And then, well, Max Verstappen has his first heat.
consequences of assumption by fiveandnocents (nsfw)
THANK YOU EVERYONE FOR BEING GENIUSES THIS YEAR!!!! it has been a joy to read such incredible content xoxoxox
#piarles#10 x 16#fic rec#i was like ''i should try something in canva'' and it turned out to be. so stupid#anyway i left off so many other fics i loved but being unbiased is HARD when your friends are so genius#you should all read these if you havent already#and if you have: read them again!
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