#ok third time has to be the charm

[mjsidd]

when I’m in a soapshipping competition and my opponent is myself

[cornfieldsrambles]

YOU HAVE PERMISSION TO INFODUMP PLEASE TELL ME ABOUT WIGGLY'S SIBLINGS???? THAT HE APPARENTLY HAS????

omg ok SO

Meet the Lords in Black. Charming, aren't they?

Yes, Wiggly does indeed have four brothers who all do different things, so I'll cover them one by one, in order of introduction (since we've already met each of them in Nightmare Time at least once). BTW Nightmare Time has a fuckton of lore in it that I won't go into here, so even though I am about to spoil significant parts of it for you, I do recommend watching it, it's really good and if there's enough interest they might make a third one!

(Also you might notice they're all in doll form in this picture. This is how we knew them up until NPMD introduced us to what I call their Tumblr sexyman forms. Which are rad as hell by the way.)

So you already know Wiggly. That little green fucker, Wiggog Y'Wrath, the Capitalist Cthulu who does uwu-speak and starts a cult by invading people's minds. This will become a bit of a reoccurring theme with these guys. He's also the only one to successfully start an apocalypse, and the only one to have attempted to birth himself into our reality. (Or is he? We'll get to that...) He does seem to have some kind of dominion over the other LiB, as whenever all five of them show up there's always emphasis placed on him, like in NPMD where he does most of the talking while his siblings occasionally butt in.

Now for Bliklotep. Blinky seems to have slightly lower-scale ambitions than Wiggly, but don't let that fool you. Eyeball Boi is still incredibly dangerous. He runs an amusement park, WatcherWorld, deep within the Hatchetfield Witchwood. But it's not for the amusement of the patrons. Oh no. It's for Blinky's own amusement. Once you step inside, every insecurity, every shred of potential conflict will be ripped to the forefront, turning people against each other to the point of trying to kill each other until he's fully infected their minds. It's implied that, if not all, but a significant chunk of the workers at WatcherWorld were once patrons before having their minds taken over by Blinky. He's also implied to be the thing in Trail To Oregon that Jack Bauer sees during his venom-induced hallucination, as Blinky is referred to as "The Watcher With 1,000 Eyes", which is exactly what JB says he sees? Making Blinky the only LiB to induce a Starkid crossover. My headcanon is that the Dikrats founded Hatchetfield. But regardless.

Next up on the roster is Tinky. T'noy Karaxis, the Time Bastard. You may be wondering about that one line in NPMD where he recognised Pete as a Spankoffski, and said he "could have the whole set in his toybox". Has Tinky gone after Pete's relatives?

Well. Um. You know Ted, right? Yeah, his name is Spankoffski. He's Pete's big brother. We actually got the surname reveal before the brother reveal, lol. And that's not the only reveal we got about Ted. Our boy Teddy Bear has this whole entire tragic backstory and it turns out he gets fucked over in literally every timeline! Isn't that fun?

So, to summarise an entire episode: Tinky makes travel fuckery happen, Ted wants to go back in time to fix his life, accidentally goes back to before the time machine was created and gets stuck in the past, literally. Tinky is watching and laughing at the whole thing, then shows up to blow Ted's brain to smithereens with his weird little magic box, the Bastard's Box, where he stores all the people he toys with. Anyway Ted eventually catches up with the present by aging, except now no one knows who he is, he's... actually I won't spoil that. But once he dies he ends up eternally trapped and tortured in the Bastard's Box. Yaaay.

Fast forward to Nightmare Time 2 and we get introduced to Nibbly, in possibly the most unexpected way imaginable. He's revealed to have been behind a whole episode literally right at the end of said episode, and even though it was kind of foreshadowed, it hits you like a freight train in the best way. Remember when I said Wiggly was the only one who tried to birth himself into reality? That was kind of a lie. Nibblenephim can sort of do that anyway. Every year, he can possess a bunch of carcasses and create a living form to walk the earth for one night. He also has a cult of followers who provide him with the carcasses, as well as a sacrifice to feed on. There's a little more to it, specifically with how the sacrifice is chosen, but again, I'm trying to spoil as little as possible. Go watch Nightmare Time. Nibbly also seems to have a "pig" motif, and his theme song, The Nibbly Ditty, is a banger, easily my favourite of the three LiB theme songs we've heard so far.

And finally, we are introduced to Pokotho, in the very last episode of NMT2.

Except no. We were formally introduced to Pokey there, yes, but we've seen his apocalypse already. Long before NPMD, before Nightmare Time, even before Black Friday.

Yeah, remember me saying that Wiggly was the only one to successfully start an apocalypse? That was also a lie! Pokey already did that, and he did it without ever showing his masked face. Remember The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals? The blue spores that came down in a meteor and turned everyone into singing zombies? That was Pokey's doing! That's his blue spores! That's his apocalypse!

This also provides an explanation for why blowing up the meteor didn't work. Emma and Hidgens were right about the hivemind thing, but wrong about the location of the central brain. It wasn't the meteor - the meteor was just the vessel which carried the spores to Earth. The central brain was sitting safely up in the Black and White, laughing as Paul blew himself to smithereens. The central brain was Pokey, the Singular Voice, the most uncompromising of his brothers. The one who hates every voice that is not his own, hence the hivemind and making all of his zombies speak in HIS voice.

Anyway in NMT2 he's happily collecting musical zombies by taking on a human form and infiltrating a fighting ring of superpowered children until he has enough to kickstart another apocalypse. (Don't question it, we're almost done). He also calls himself Otho, not Pokey, making him the only LiB to have two different abbreviations of his name. Hannah is also there (remember her? Lex's little sister?) and she is like incredibly important to this whole thing, she has a super powerful mind, but that's a whole other thing.

But I did mention Hannah for a reason. Because you said "Wiggly's SIBLINGS". And while the Lords in Black are always referred to as brothers, they do have one more sibling. A sister. A Queen in White. And her name is Webby.

Yep, Hannah's imaginary friend isn't imaginary, who could have guessed? She's benevolent, always trying her best to combat her brothers' antics, but given that there's one of her and five of them, this is a bit of an uphill battle. Webby doesn't have a full name that we know of, nor does she have a doll. We don't know much about her. And she may not be all-powerful - but then again, neither are her brothers.

Infodump concluded. Hope this helps, it was very fun to write.

[juleswritesstuff]

Am I the only one who thinks most of the Marauders and the Slytherin Skittles would have the biggest praise kink in history ?

warnings: smut

James would have one because of his constant need to be perfect, to be what he thinks the others need him to be: the perfect son, the perfect friend, the perfect student. But he always has doubts ‘am I enough ?’, ‘am I doing enough ?', ‘will they like me ? ’, ‘what if they don’t ? what if they hate me ?’ He needs to be reassured that he is. He is enough, he is more than enough. 

I feel like it would be more prominent while he is intimate with you. He is mostly afraid of not living up to the expectation he thinks you have of him. So you make sure he knows that he makes you literally touch the sky.

‘That was the best match i’ve ever watched ! Merlin, you were brilliant on that broom James’ after Gryffindor wins the last match of the year.

‘What do you mean ‘stupid’ ? They’re your glasses baby, they help you see. And you look really hot wearing them in my opinion’ after he overhears someone talking about another person and saying they look stupid with that specific pair of glasses.

‘Like that, baby. You’re doing so good’ while he is covering your neck with kisses and gentle bites.

‘Yes, yes, fuck, right there Jamie’ after a particularly deep and strong thrust leaves you breathless.

‘You look so good between my legs, love’ while he is eating you out messily and hungrily and so, so perfectly.

‘No one feels as good as you. No one could ever make me feel the way you do, James’ while he is still inside of you, catching his breath and looking at you with devotion.

‘Are you sure it was ok ?’

‘James, it was more than ok. My legs are shaking baby, that's a sign that it was pretty damn amazing’

‘Are you serious ?’

‘Apart from the very lame joke I am sure you’re thinking about, yes, I am. Actually, why don’t I show you how serious I really am ?’

‘What do you mean, baby?’

‘I mean that you’re gonna fuck me again and i’ll show you how much I always crave your lips, then a third time and i’ll make sure the entire castle hears how you can make me cry with just your tongue, then a fourth because that perfect dick of yours needs to be fucking worshipped, and, finally, a fifth to show you that you fuck me so good that not a single coherent thought processes in my head when you're taking me apart on your cock, Jamie’ 

Remus would have one because he has hated himself his whole life. He feels like a monster, like he doesn’t deserve all the love he is surrounded by, like all the good things people say about him are just lies. And he knows the truth, he knows he is nothing but an horrid creature and that he doesn’t deserve to be loved. Except that it isn’t the truth, and you tell him everyday.

With him I feel like it would be more out of the bedroom, and outside of sex, but not exclusively.

‘You’re really good at that spell Remus, mind showing me how it’s done ?’ after he gets a rather difficult charm right at the first try.

‘You look very hot today, Rem. Well, you look hot everyday actually’ which makes him blush from head to toes.

‘You’re the best, you know ? You really are’ after he explains a difficult concept that nobody else got, but him.

‘Holy hell, right there Remus. You feel way too good’ while he eases in and out of you with a steady rhythm, knocking the air out of your lungs.

‘You take such good care of me’ while he is going down on you, slowly, sensually and with a glint of hunger in his eyes, knowing exactly what to do to make you fall apart.

‘I love you, you know that right ?’

‘Yes, darling. You tell me everyday’ 

‘Well, that’s not enough. From now on, I'll tell you twice a day’

‘But why ?’

‘Because it’s true' and then you give him the sweetest kiss.

Sirius would have one because he has been told his whole life that he wasn’t enough. That he needed to be better, to do better, to be a better heir for the Noble House of Black, to be a better son, to be a better brother. He was told that he was worthless, that his parents had no use in having a son like him. He was a disappointment, a shame to the family. For them he didn’t exist anymore.

But for you he was the most perfect person to ever walk on earth. Your brightest star.

He would love it both inside and outside the bedroom. I feel like he would also ask you to tell him something that makes him feel good, especially when he is having a bad day. He has no problem being praised in public, but he becomes especially vulnerable when you’re intimate because he can finally let go.

‘Tell me what did I do to have the best boyfriend ever ?’ After he brings you flowers one day because he told you they reminded them of you.

‘It’s ok Sirius, you’ll get it eventually. You’re one of the best students, you just need a bit more time which is totally fine’ after the tenth time he tries to get one of the most difficult spells right, only for it to go wrong.

‘You’re worth it Sirius. You’re worth every single good thing that happens to you, never doubt that’ after he breaks down reading one of his mothers older letters, full of foul words directed at him.

‘You’re such a good boy, aren’t you ?’ after he listens to you so well, kissing every inch of your body.

‘Fuck, you should see yourself baby. You look so good, so perfect for me’ while you’re on his lap, riding him slowly to savor that sultry fucked out expression on his face that makes you go feral.

‘You’re so sweet, Sirius, do you know that ? So fucking sweet’ after you bob your head on his length, swirling your tongue around his head to suck gently as his taste coats your mouth.

‘Was I good ?’

‘You’re always good, Sirius. More than’

‘Are you sure ?’

‘Do you want me to describe in detail how good you are at splitting me open in every position known to man ? Because I can do that if you want. Might take three whole days though, a week if you want me to talk about that sinful tongue of yours, too’

‘I think we have enough time’ and then you both start laughing.

Regulus would have one because he’s been second his whole life. Second for his brother, second for his parents before Sirius left , sometimes he feels second even for his friends. He thinks no one cares deeply about him, he’s just there as a rebound. He’s never been anyone’s first choice, and he thinks he never will be.

You make sure he knows that not only he would be your first choice in every lifetime, but that he would also be the only choice for you, no one else would or could ever compare. He is the center of your universe after all.

I feel like he would blush like crazy and pretend he is annoyed by your words when you’re in public and you praise him even for the simplest thing, but his eyes would also warm up a little, just for a second, before going back to his blank and rather stoic expression. He would be a mess in the bedroom though, when he can finally let go and he allows himself to feel good about the sweet words that leave your lips.

‘You have the prettiest eyes I have ever seen’ after he catches you staring at him for a moment too long.

‘Your poems are literally art, Regulus. I can’t believe you can write like this, you know this is pure talent, right ?’ after he shows you his poems for the first time and you nearly cry because more than half of them are dedicated to you.

‘You were so good up there, Reggie. And the way you caught the Snitch ? Fucking incredible. You are incredible’ after Slytherin wins one of the biggest matches of the season thanks to Regulus catching the Snitch one minute from the end.

‘You feel so good, love. Stretching me out so well’ after his cock slides inside of you perfectly, filling you up so nicely.

‘Eyes on me, Regulus. They’re so gorgeous, I want them focused me while I make you cum, ok ? Be good and keep them open’ as you stroke his length up and down, feeling the velvety soft skin on your palm as you give his head a gentle suck, tasting him on your tongue.

‘You’re so pretty when you’re all fucked out, Reggie. You feel so good taking me like this’ while you’re riding him and he looks at you with hazy eyes, lust and pure bliss fogging his brain’

‘I’m yours Regulus. I’m undoubtedly, irrevocably and utterly yours’

‘Promise me’

‘I promise, I’m not going anywhere. I’m afraid you’re stuck with me forever, actually’

‘Mmh, it’s gonna be hard, but I’ll survive I guess’ while you’re still joined, one body and one soul as you kiss him slowly and sweetly, his tone sarcastic but betrayed by the smile that's progressively growing on his lips.

Barty would have one because his father never gave him his attention. He was never enough for him, never a good son, never a good student, never good. He was constantly ignored, and the few times his father acknowledged him was to tell him that he was a lost cause, a disgrace, a shame. He was just a stupid boy, too reckless, too careless, too unhinged, too much, and, at the same time, never enough. But it wasn’t like that. He was a bit impulsive, and sometimes he went a little bonkers, but he was a good person, and there were people who cared about him and his well being. You always made sure he knew that. He was your priority.

I have a feeling that he would be completely unashamed of being praised in public exactly like he is praised in the bedroom. Probably not in front of the whole school, but he wouldn't really care if people eavesdropped, his crooked grin widening when he notices their horrified faces. It is  their fault, they could mind their own damn business.

‘Yes, Barty, you’ve been a good boy’ after he asks you if he has been good after getting an O in Potions.

‘Baby, we’re in public, I can’t just scream about how good you fuck me. There are people eating, for Merlin’s sake’ after he sees a guy talking to you before sitting at the table in the Great Hall. He asks you if you could tell him that he is the only one who could make you come with just his skilled fingers.

‘Don’t think like that ever again, Barty. You are not a lost cause, you aren't. You deserve good things, you deserve the best things, sweetie. You deserve to be loved, and I do. I love you so much Barty, don’t ever think you are not important to me because you are. You mean the world to me’ after he receives a letter from his father asking how a cretin like him was able to find someone who could love him. If he hadn’t begged you to stop after calming down a little you would’ve been in Azkaban with a murder charge by now.

‘Fuck, I love when you do that. Feels amazing, baby’ after he trails a path of kisses down your chest only to focus on the tender flesh of your nipple as he sucks gently, and grazes it with his teeth, teasing you.

‘Harder, baby. I know you like it like this’ while his thrusts become more erratic, stronger and deeper and you can hardly think.

‘You’re cock is perfect, Barty. Fills my mouth so nicely’ while you’re sucking him off, his tip hits your throat and you swallow as the loudest moan leaves his mouth.

‘I told Mulciber that no one can make you scream as loud as I do’

‘You did what ?! Barty !’

‘What ? Is it not true ?’

‘I- of course it’s true, but why did you have to tell him ?’

‘He was being rather cocky about the fact that he could make you scream like, and I quote ‘a bitch’. Then he started using other very disrespectful words to describe you baby, and at that point I had to punch him right in the face, because no one has to even dare to talk about you like that. He is actually lucky my Sectumsempra is not perfect yet, or he would’ve ended way worse. And then I added that little detail. I probably shouldn’t have done it, but I was furious. Do you want me to obliviate him ? I can do that if you want’

‘It’s fine, he needs some salt rubbed on his wounds’

‘Are you sure ?’

‘Yes, baby. And it’s nothing new, I'm sure the entire dorm hears me when you’re fucking me, I can't help it. Now come on my knight in bloody knuckles, let’s go to Madame Pomfrey to get those bruises checked’ you kiss him lightly before heading to the infirmary.

Thanks for coming to my Ted talk 🤭

And thank you for reading 💖

[rosyblooom]

chicken shop date | cl16 smau

pairing: charles leclerc x fem youtuber!reader

summary: y/n hosts a popular youtube channel where she invites various celebrities to have a 'chicken shop date'. in this upcoming episode, she welcomes famous formula 1 driver, charles leclerc.

a/n: all my love to amelia, i love her vids🫶🫶 also, pls lmk what u think :)

creds to @classiclitfreak for proofreading! thank uu!! :)

ᴠᴏʟᴜᴍᴇ : ▮▯▯▯▯▯▯▯▯

ᴠᴏʟᴜᴍᴇ : ▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▯

21st of March, 2024

yourusername posted to her story!

[ caption: red 4 🏎️🏎️🏎️ ]

[ caption: chicken shop date out on saturday!!! xx ]

[ tagged: charles_leclerc ]

yourusername posted to her story!

[ caption: aussie aussie aussie 🦘 ]

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, yourbfusername, landonorris and 137,923 others

yourusername i love you australia xx

view all 4,831 comments

yourbfusername third pic 👀👀

yourusername 🤫 username that's suspicious...

username ARIANA WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE????

username flying across the globe for a chicken shop date??? oh this is serious guys

username nah she's just rich lol username i'll be sad if they're just playing in our faces

username y/n becoming a ferrari girl was NOT on my bingo cards😀

charles_leclerc ❤️

yourusername 🥰🥰 username so the plot thickens username love u charlie🫶🫶

username y/n don't play with me rn. are you dating charles or nah

(liked by author)

username girl it's been 84 years we are tired of the games😭 username 'liked by author' WHAT DOES THIS MEAN

landonorris here for mclaren i'm hoping

yourusername i- sure! username oooh it's the lying for me miss

22nd of March, 2024

f1gossipofficial

liked by username, username, username, and 8,239 others

f1gossipofficial After arriving in Australia last night and posting a picture hugging who fans believe to be Charles Leclerc, Y/N L/N made her F1 debut this morning during the practice sessions.

She and Charles appeared to be very close, only further fuelling the dating rumours that have been circulating the internet for the past month. As of yet, however, neither of the pair has confirmed nor denied the ongoing rumours.

view all 273 comments

username bruh how hard is a "we're dating/we're not dating."😑

username lmao are you ok?? they don't owe us anything

username Y/N as an f1 wag???? OH HOW I USED TO PRAY FOR THESE TIMES

username aw she's so pretty

username a chicken shop date episode with charles is dropping tmrw so i think it's all pretend

username oh yeahhhh I almost forgot username but travelling all across the world for that seems a little excessive? she's literally already super successful ygm username pretending for over 4 weeks is nasty work😫

username did anyone see the way he looks at her though????😍

username RIGHT?? THEYRE SO CUTE OMG😭

23rd of March, 2024

yourusername posted to her story!

[ caption: this is more like it �� ]

[ tagged: charles_leclerc ]

charles_leclerc posted to his story!

[ caption: Lucky charm secured ❤️ ]

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, yourbfusername, landonorris and 277,004 others

yourusername chicken shop date with @charles_leclerc OUT NOW!! hope it's an uncomfortable watch xx

view all 4,992 comments

username 10/10 awkwardness, I had to pause multiple times. truly hated it, keep posting more!

yourusername thank u thank u. will do🫡 username loool Y/N ilysm

username Y/N ARE YALL DATING OR NAH??? IM SO CONFUSED

username u and me both😭😭 username idc if it's delusional i'm just gonna pretend they are🥰🥰 username ignorance is bliss babe✨😌

yourbfusername wait you guys are lowkey cute🧐

yourusername *highkey username OMG IS THIS A CONFIRMATION??? WE WONNNN username just fell to my knees in tesco pls don't be joking Y/N😭

charles_leclerc Avez-vous déjà pratiqué votre français ? (have you even been practising your french?)

yourusername oui oui 😌 username she's actually got it lmaoo who would've thought💀

username LMAO Y/N not "what are we?" why are you like this💀💀

username that's so real of her tbh

2:35 ───ㅇ───────── 7:55

The YouTube video begins with a series of clips showing Y/N and Charles laughing, with intermittent shots of Y/N looking directly at the screen. The familiar tune of Y/N's 'chicken shop date' videos begins as stop-motion hearts flutter across the screen, transitioning smoothly to a scene featuring two dolls seated in a miniature chicken shop date setting, seamlessly leading into the main content of the video.

"Charles Leclerc," Y/N warmly greets, resting her elbows on the table. "Welcome to our date."

Charles responds with a smile, settling back in his seat and gesturing around. "Y/N Y/LN, thank you. I'm very happy to be on our first date... here... with all these cameras," he remarks jokingly.

Y/N narrows her eyes slightly, briefly glancing around before refocusing on Charles with a hum. "I'm not sure what you're implying. This location is a solid 10 out of 10," she says, gesturing to their surroundings. "Besides, do you see the chicken?" she adds, plucking a single fry from her meal box and waving it in the air, awaiting his response.

"You mean the fry?" Charles chuckles, pointing. "That's not chicken."

Y/N takes a bite of the fry, pausing to swallow before clearing her throat. "I'm aware," she says with a dramatic tilt of her head and a tight-lipped smile. "I just grabbed it because I fancied a fry." 

"But anyway," she continues, circling back to the initial question, "do... you... see... the... chicken?" Sensing his hesitation, she places her hands firmly on the table. "Look at me. It's a simple yes or no, Charles."

"Well, actually, it's yes or yes," she corrects herself with two affirmative nods, before redirecting her attention back to him.

Charles responds with a smile, though his expression betrays his confusion, evident in the different angles of his raised eyebrows. "Yes, I see it, Y/N."

"And do you taste it?" Y/N asks slowly.

"I haven't yet..."

"So, what are you waiting for?" she claps her hands together, motioning towards the untouched box of food in front of him. "Don't be shy now."

Charles chuckles as he sits up in his chair and leans forward, rummaging through the food before pulling out a chicken nugget. As he dips the piece in some ketchup, his eyes meet Y/N's once more, her wide-eyed nod urging him on.

"Go on."

"Okay, okay," he says, taking a bite. "Mmm," he nods, almost as if someone were holding a gun to his head, compelling him to do so.

"Oh," Y/N purses her lips and shakes her head, "I don't like it when people make noises while eating."

"Uh," Charles swallows and chuckles, "sorry?"

Y/N shrugs. "It's okay, I forgive you."

"Anyway," she inhales deeply, "what do you think? That's some good chicken, right?"

"Yeah, actually, it is really good," Charles nods as he speaks.

Suddenly, the video cuts to a staff member in chicken shop attire standing behind the counter, wearing a smile while staring at the camera, unmoving.

Then, the video returns to Charles and Y/N.

As Charles takes another bite of his chicken nugget, Y/N casually asks, "Do you think our children will like chicken?"

Coughing sounds interrupt as Charles drops his chicken into the box, knocking his fist against his chest until the sound clears. His voice croaks as he speaks, his brows furrowing, "Our children? We're talking about children already?"

Y/N's composure cracks slightly as she chuckles, clearly amused by his reaction, and observes him reaching for a glass of water, taking large gulps. However, she quickly regains control, shrugging nonchalantly before continuing, "Well, yeah. I don't know about you, but I date for marriage—I want a little family of my own someday. Don't you?"

Charles rubs his eyebrows and places the glass back on the table. "Yes, I do want to have a family one day. But this feels like it's moving very fast, don't you think?"

Y/N shakes her head. "Not at all. To be honest, I want one boy and one girl. What about you?"

At Y/N's continued forwardness, Charles releases a laugh, visibly bewildered, before scratching at his beard in deep thought. Propping up his elbows on the table, he finally responds, "I think I want a boy."

"—And a girl," Y/N interjects, smiling expectantly.

Charles blurts out a laugh, clearly taken aback, before nodding. "Yeah, a girl too. I don't really mind."

"Great, so we're on the same page then."

The video cuts off again, this time to the entrance of the chicken shop, slowly panning into the empty and bright interior with multiple tables and chairs. The camera stops on the large menu, featuring pictures of chicken and fries, lingering for a few moments before cutting back to Charles and Y/N. 

However, this time Y/N is holding a piece of paper in front of her.

"So, I hear you're French?" Y/N glances up at Charles, noticing the grimace on his face. Quickly realising her mistake, she corrects herself, "Oh, hold on, no wait, don't kill me please. You speak French, but you're from Monaco—you don't claim France at all."

Charles laughs and nods in agreement. "Correct. I am Monegasque. Those are separate countries, yes."

Y/N purses her lips, her eyes flickering from side to side. "I know, I literally just said that." Clicking her tongue, she exhales a long breath and continues, "Anyway, what a coincidence. I'm actually trying to learn French."

Something flashes in Charles' eyes as he suddenly leans forward in his chair, his expression filled with keen interest. "Oh wow, tu l'es ? Comment vas-tu ?" (translation: "Oh wow, you are? How are you?")

Y/N freezes, her mouth parted slightly in a half-smile. For a moment, she just stares, clearly startled, before scratching the back of her neck and humming deep in thought. "Oh, okay, straight into the deep end, huh?" she chuckles and then blurts out, "Oui, oui?"

Charles tosses his head back, laughing, while Y/N folds her hands together, waiting expressionless for his laughter to subside. When he finally regains his composure, his eyes back on Y/N, she says, "Great, thanks."

"I'm sorry," Charles waves his hand in the air, "I just thought you'd know the basics already. My mistake."

Y/N narrows her gaze at him for a few moments before taking a deep breath. "Well, that's what I've got you here for." Clearing her throat, she tilts her gaze down at the paper and asks, "Let's start easy, shall we? I'm going to give you a few sentences in French, and you translate them back to me in English."

Charles furrows his brows. "Wouldn't it make more sense the other way around?"

"What can I say, I'm special," she shrugs, "I actually learn better this way."

"Ah, of course you are."

"Alright. Je t'aime."

"I love you," says Charles.

Y/N places her hand across her chest. "Aw, Charles. Dropping the L-bomb already, are we?"

Charles drags his teeth across his lower lip while shaking his head. "Next one, please."

“Veux-tu m'épouser?" (translation: "Will you marry me?")

Charles tilts his head sideways, an amused expression spreading across his face. “Seriously?”

Y/N clicks her tongue and shakes her head. “No, that doesn’t quite sound right. I think you might need to brush up on your French, Charles, because I’m pretty sure ‘Veux-tu m'épouser’ does not mean ‘seriously.’”

Exhaling a long breath, she rotates in her seat and straightens up. “Don’t worry though, I’ll give you another chance.”

Charles rolls his eyes playfully before releasing a whistle. Rubbing his hands together, he begins, “Will you marry me. That’s what it mea—”

“Charles!” Y/N's jaw drops as she interrupts him. “Well, I’m a hot commodity, you know? But I want to know, how would our marriage work? I mean, how long are you planning on racing, anyway?”

Charles smiles, slumping into his seat as he reaches for a fry and tosses it into his mouth. “I’m not sure, to be honest. I love racing and I want to be a world champion, so we’ll just have to see how long that takes.”

“You want to be a world champion, yet you extended your contract with Ferrari?” Y/N's brows furrow inquisitively. “That’s an interesting choice.”

A couple of chuckles escape Charles as he runs his hand up and down his neck, his gaze fixed on the half-empty box of food before him. After a moment's pause, he replies with a casual shrug, “They're like family to me. And honestly, when I see myself winning, it’s always with the Ferrari team by my side.”

“Fair enough,” Y/N exhales, her eyes widening as she claps her hands together. “I suppose I'll have to stock up on red outfits.”

Noticing Charles’ puzzled expression, Y/N theatrically rolls her eyes before explaining, “For our next date, silly. I’ll be your lucky charm, and then you can finally start winning and have a real shot at the World Championship.”

“Wow, how nice of you, Y/N,” Charles responds with a lazy smile. “Merci.”

“Oooh,” Y/N points at him, nodding in satisfaction, “I know that one. You’re welcome…”

“…Boyfriend?” she asks, narrowing her eyes at him. “What—what are we?”

He ponders for a moment, swaying slightly from side to side, then relents, “Okay, sure… girlfriend.”

The video cuts to the outro, displaying various polaroids of Y/N flashing by, accompanied by a text reading, ‘If you enjoyed the video, please don’t forget to like and subscribe for more! xx’.

24th of March, 2024

yourusername posted to her story!

[ caption: early day😴😴 ]

[ tagged: charles_leclerc ]

f1gossipofficial

liked by username, username, username and 4,723 others

f1gossipofficial Y/N L/N and Charles Leclerc have been spotted entering the Paddock together. Numerous sources have also confirmed seeing them exchange a few kisses.

As always, wishing the drivers all the best for today's race!

view all 269 comments

username oh we're so on

username the world is healing

username who would've thought being awkward is how to pull charles leclerc💀

username ig this means we all have a chance username lmaooo i need u to be so fr

username ugh I don't see the hype?? that video made me so uncomfortable, she's such a weirdo

username nobody cares bruh

username mhm iktr😌 we love to see it

f1

liked by yourusername, carlossaiz55, username and 324,076 others

f1 Carlando back on the podium together! Congrats to Carlos Sainz, Lando Norris and Charles Leclerc on their wins! Huge accomplishments!

#F1 #Formula1 #AusGP

view all 248 comments

username CARLANDO LETS GOOOOOO

username aw they all deserved it I'm so happy for them😭🫶

username carlos the man that you are❤️

yourusername 🥳👏

username seeing Y/N become an actual f1 girl🤧 username please treat charles well for us🥹

username lfg 💪

yourusername

liked by yourbfusername, charles_leclerc, arthur_leclerc and 263,014 others

tagged: charles_leclerc

yourusername as the french say 'soo la voo' or whatever xxx

view all 5902 comments

charles_leclerc close enough🤣

yourusername je t'aime ❤️ username OMGG??????? AHHH KICKING MY FEET🥰 username wow we've literally gone full circle🤧 username he fell first she fell harder tease🥹

username NOOOO CHARLIE NOT HER :(

username girl shut up

yourbfusername lool cuties <33

yourusername bby 🫶

username is- is this what it feels like to win?😭❤️❤️

7:35 ───────────ㅇ─ 7:55

hope u enjoyed! thoughts are appreciated! <3

[nicolesainz]

It's ok, I'm ok! (LN4)

Lando Norris x f!reader

Author's note: Tate McRae slowed versions of her songs are perfect for fanfic writing!

Summary: Sky Sports has hired a new and upcoming reporter, filling in for races that the big names will be absent. You seem to get the best out of the drivers, especially Lando Norris who has the most crooked PR image lately. Even if he behaves in front of the camera, it doesn't mean the cracks won't stop growing.

Warning: 18+, minors dni! smut, explicit content!

"TV pen, who is on the list this time?" I ask Natalie while I am trying to set up the microphone and my headset.

"Uh, Lance, uh, George and oh, Mr. Loverboy Norris." she playfully nudges me while reading out the names.

"Lando? Again? I have had to interview him for the past 4 races."

"You are the only one who can get full sentences out of him. He started off the season with 3-4 words per answer but now, things have improved."

"Please Natalie, tell him to maybe be a more decent. He keeps eyeing me up and down and I can barely make out the words I have written in my cards."

Lando is very charming, sweet and a bit annoying. Whenever we cut the cameras and there aren't many people around, he always tries to flirt with me. Compliments my looks, my manners and how I constantly blush whenever he shows up at the panel.

"Oh come on, that's the way he has always been since he started. He seems to be very fond of you, in comparison to the rest of us. Play along with his tricks."

It is true, Lando has had the playboy persona following him for quite some time and he truly is owning up to it without a care in the world. A playboy in the sense of being charismatic and innocently hitting on others, not the whole 'being with a different girl every race week'.

"Why hello beautiful ladies! Long time no see." His voice sends chills down my spine as it echoes in my ears sweetly. Both Natalie and I turn to face him with two huge grins formed on.

"You two look suspicious. What have you done? Are you not happy to see me, y/n?" Lando frowns the moment he ends his sentence and my heart instantly twitches. How can anyone not be happy to see Lando or be around him?

"Course not Lan. Simply was telling Natalie a few issues I had. Nothing important." I gather up my words and put out a fake cough to prepare for the start of the interview.

"Who hurt you? I will deal with them. Nobody messes with my favourite girl." Lando gets all tensed up, thinking I was being serious.

"Scratch that, he is obsessed with you and simply we all else don't exist. Good luck." Natalie whispers in my ear as she softly pats my back before leaving.

"It's ok Lando. I am okay. So, shall we start?" I look up to be met with his dazzling green eyes who hide nothing inside them, but genuine worry about my hypothetical problem.

Thankfully the interview rolls out very smoothly. No shocking statements, everything in words that the media won't be able to twist and simple happiness, which was something Lando hadn't been able to express in recent interviews.

"Say now, who is this person you have a few issues with? Can I help anyhow?" Lando asks for the third time today, since for the whole ride back to the hotel I was trying to avoid giving him an answer. I really don't wanna say anything to offend him.

"Really, everything is fine. You don't have to worry about me."

"You know I don't have the best of relationships with media people, but ever since you came around, I feel more relaxed and comfortable around the TV Pen. Please let me make your experience even more enjoyable."

Lando twisted the knife around my heart even tighter. It's not like his flirting makes me uncomfortable. I want to keep things professional but he makes it so difficult for me to resist him. I really don't want to neither make a fool of myself in front of him, if this turns out to be innocent flirting, nor have any issues with my co-workers at Sky and my employers.

"I will stay outside your room all night if you don't tell me what's going on."

"You're as stubborn off track, as you are on track as well?"

"You could test that if you want, darling."

My stomach dropped the moment he uttered those words.

"You clearly have been testing me all this time in other ways."

"How? I don't understand." Lando looked at me with a severely confused manner.

"Am I the only reporter you have been flirting with?"

"Where do you want me to swear?"

"A simple yes or no will do."

He sighed and took a step back to give me space to breathe. He seemed defeated and a bit hurt with my accusation.

"You are the only person I am feeling comfortable with, besides a few drivers. I see you more often than my own family. You never shame me in public, no matter a good or bad performance. Always try to defend my image after a few slips this season. Do you seriously believe that I would focus my attention on anyone else besides you? You are wonderful, y/n. I am sorry if I led you to believe the opposite."

I was left speechless. Maybe Natalie's words after all were true. Lando does feel more comfortable around me than many others in the paddock. I could feel my cheeks reddening and a wave of guilt washing me over.

"Lando, I am so sorry. I just didn't want our relationship to be ruined if all this was a simple innocent flirt. I didn't want it to get into my head and influence me negatively towards you."

"Trust me, this was more than simple flirting. I can keep evolving it if you allow me to."

"But now that I have told you my 'issue' you wont stay outside my room."

"Again, I hope you allow me to show you what I really feel. Which kind of requires you letting me inside your room."

Bells inside my brain were manically ringing to grand him access and test the water of what this could turn into. As if my attraction towards Lando wasn't already obvious, the last thing I needed was to reject his offer.

I take the card key outside of my back pocket and open the door, but before I could invite Lando in, his hand had been tangled around my waist and his lips crash into mine, sucking all the air from my lungs. With a swift move he picks me up and twirls me all the way to the king sized bed.

My fingers slip under his shirt, removing it in a matter of seconds and finally being met with his tanned chest and beautiful silver cross necklace. With no alert, I feel my bralette loosening up and being thrown on the floor.

"Fucking stunning." Lando murmurs before he traces my nipples with his index finger, earning a soft moan from me. I am so easily aroused by his actions that even the slightest movement can drive me crazy.

Above the bedpost, there is a beautiful painting of a couple, in which the man is kissing and admiring his lady's womanhood. Lando takes a quick look at it, with a huge grin being shaped on his lips.

"Let me get a taste of you baby." Both his arms grasp my thighs and place them around his neck, with Lando winking at me and in a few moments, placing his mouth on top my coursing wet world. Kissing, sucking and endless licking caused my knuckles to harden from the constant pulling of the sheets.

"Fuck me." I blurt out senselessly as Lando's tongue flicks up my soft spot and I harshly pull on his curls.

"Literally any time of the day." he responds as I feel his manhood closing up all the space inside me. Warmth fills my heart and brain and I am starting to feel delirious.

His middle finger is playing with my clit, while he is thrusting inside me tirelessly, slowly clenching around him, tracing the veins around his cock.

"A monaco race winner has never felt so good" I mutter in between my teeth.

"Thousand times better being with you than on top of the podium" he moans getting closer on edge.

[joedirtymadre]

Jealous

LUFFY X READER! FLUFF!

You sighed as you stared off at the two figures in front of you. You weren’t the one to be jealous, envious, or clingy… but it’s impossible to not feel any of those things when the most beautiful empress in the world is feeding your boyfriend strawberries.

“If I were you I would go up to him and drag him to the back of the ship and knock some sense into him,” Nami huffed as she joined you in watching the two. You watched as Hancock giggled whenever Luffy licked his lips after eating another one of her juicy strawberries. “Should I?” You asked, half-jokingly. “It is disrespectful of Luffy to be so close to another woman when he already has one,” Robin joined in. “Definitely, but isn’t Hancock worse for being so lovey dovey towards him, knowing that you two are dating,” Nami pointed out.

“About that…” you trailed off. The two ladies stared at you in confusion. “I don’t think Luffy has introduced me to her,” you sighed again. “What?!” Nami yelled. “Well I imagine, since he hasn’t once called me over to meet her,” you pointed out. “No, we gotta stop this now,” Nami stared at the two. “Most definitely,” Robin added. “How?” You asked. “Leave that to us,” Nami winked.

…

“Nami I don’t think this’ll work, plus I don’t feel too comfortable with this…” you said nervously. “It’ll be fine!” she reassured you. You sat awkwardly with Zoro who surprisingly accepted the plan. “You’re actually ok with this Zoro?” You asked. “Well I have to just eat strawberries with you right? Doesn’t sound too hard, besides the she-devil said she’d drop 100,000 from my loan,” he grumbled the last part. “Ahh…” you sweat dropped. You weren’t too sure about Nami’s plan, feeding strawberries to Zoro near Luffy and Hancock in hopes that Luffy gets jealous and comes over?? “Luffy never gets jealous though,” you shook your head. “Any guy can get jealous,” Zoro said. “Yeah?” You asked. “Yeah, now feed me a strawberry woman,” he said as he leaned forward.

You smiled and popped a strawberry into his mouth. You glanced over, hoping for Luffy to notice you two, but with no luck. “He didn’t notice…” you said softly. “That’s because we have to up the antics,” Zoro smirked. “Huh?” You asked. “Toss a strawberry to me,” he said. “Ok…” you said slowly and tossed a strawberry up in the air. Watching Zoro completely miss it, “What was that?” You laughed. “I wasn’t ready… again!” he barked. “Ok, ok, ready?” you asked. The swordsman nodded and prepared himself. You tossed another strawberry in the air and watched Zoro completely miss the fruit again. “Nice catch!” You laughed. “It’s because you don’t toss it right!” he glared.

“No, you’re just bad at this. Watch me,” you said as you prepared yourself. Zoro softly tossed a strawberry in the air and you quickly caught it. “Beginner’s luck,” Zoro frowned as he crossed his arms. “Sounds like someone is mad they can’t catch a strawberry,” you teased. “No I have it this time, try me,” he said determinedly. “Ok…” you chuckled. You once again tossed a strawberry in the air and he finally caught it.

“Let’s go! You did it!” You cheered. “Third time’s a charm!” Zoro smirked. You both hi-fived over your small strawberry victory, but that soon ended when you noticed a shadow casting over you.

You looked back and noticed Luffy, “Oh hi Luffy, did you see Zoro catch that straw-“ but you were cut off by your captain picking you up and throwing you over his shoulder. “H-Hold on! Wait!” You protested as you squirmed but it was no use. “Luffy? Where are you going?” You watched Hancock try to follow you, but Luffy locked her out of your bedroom.

You were tossed onto the bed, seeing your boyfriend extremely frustrated. “Luffy?” You asked. “What were you doing with Zoro?” He huffed. “Eating strawberries,” you responded. “I didn’t like that,” he bluntly said as he sat beside you. “Well I didn’t like Hancock feeding you strawberries either,” you grumbled. “Hancock? She’s just a friend,” he said.

“Didn’t look like it,” you sighed. “Well I can say the same for you and Zoro!” He replied. “I only tossed strawberries into his mouth, but… you’re right… I asked Zoro to try and help me… make you jealous. so you’d stop focusing so much on… Hancock,” you said softly. “Make me jealous?” He asked. “Well, I got jealous or… scared, she’s the most beautiful woman in the sea and she’s obviously in love with you. What if you decide that she’s better than me… and leave me,” you explained.

You felt him wrap an arm around your shoulders and pull you into a hug. “I’m sorry,” he said softly. “No it’s fine… I should’ve talked to you instead of making a silly plan. I wasn’t thinking…” you trailed off. “It’s ok, it’s my fault too. I told her you were my girlfriend and then she began acting weird. I thought it was because we haven’t seen each other in a while, so she was being extra nice… I guess that made you mad, huh?” He frowned. “A bit,” you replied.

“Well… I'm glad you told me,” he said. “I like seeing you get jealous,” he grinned. “Yeah? It was kind of funny seeing you get so upset about me and Zoro too,” you smiled. “Yeah… don’t do that again, please?” He asked as he loosened his hug to look at you. “Ok, but you need to go out there and show that empress we’re dating,” you laughed. “Definitely, now come on. Let’s get out of here,” he smiled as he stood up and held out his hand. You quickly take it and follow him out the door.

[ohodie]

RIGHT SIDE OF MY NECK

luke castellan x daughter of hades reader

★ relationship headcanons!!

ABOUT - cute little relationship headcanons for luke and his child of hades gf <3

WARNINGS - a little bit of nsfw at the end 💋

A/N - not my fav lol… it’s ok i think it’s kinda cute

luke castellan is the ultimate gentleman. he’s sweet, thoughtful, caring, all that stuff.

he always makes an effort to include you in everything because he knows how hard it is for you to make friends and such. he’s always inviting you to hang out with him and his friends, or taking you out to chaperone his cabin with him.

he’s your knight in shining armour. before you and luke even became friends, he was looking out for you. always saying hello, inviting you to spar with him, things like that.

luke castellan makes sure his girlfriend is comfortable in every situation. he knows you’re shy, so he tries his best to soothe your nerves whenever you’re talking in a big group of people. he’ll wrap his arm around your back and gently hold your waist, or he’ll kiss your cheek or shoulder- hoping it’ll soothe you. and it usually does, but it mostly flusters you.

he tries to spend as much time alone with you as possible. this means a lot of whisking you away to the hades cabin, because it’s completely empty.

you spend hours just talking and laying in your bed, playing with his hair as you two joke around about stupid shit.

he kinda feels superior to everyone else because he gets to know you more than anyone ever could. other than him and a few of your friends, everyone thinks you’re shy and timid. and sure, you are those things, but you’re also loving and hilarious and so so so witty.

luke castellan’s favourite thing about you is your sharp tongue. you’re funny, and dark, which makes for some really funny comments. the first time you make a joke around him, he couldn’t stop laughing. it was shocking hearing such morbid jokes some from such a shy mouth.

you are not one for PDA. you think that making out in public is weird and gross. he agrees… to an extent.

obviously, you’re not jamming your faces together ever minute of everyday, but luke is very needy.

he’s so overly touch starved and extremely obsessed with you, that if he’s around you he has to be able to be close with you to some extent.

this means holding hands, or pressing his shoulder against yours, playing with your hair, fiddling with your fingers, etc…

just small things like that.

when you’re alone, he’s a lot more touchy. and you love it- you’re as touched starved at him, you’re just better at hiding it.

luke loves to just hold you. he loves to just wrap his arms around you and bury his face in your neck, leaving little kisses all along your skin.

he loves watching you squirm and turn red when he caresses the sides of your hips. he honestly loves everything you do.

luke is extremely respectful of you and your boundaries. he’s also extremely needy. these two things can be true at the same time.

he started spending nights in your bed at the hades cabin using the excuse ‘it smells bad and is always so loud!! y/n you’ve gotta help me!!’

obviously you give in, because you love luke and love sleeping next to him. who cares if it’s against the rules?

but after the third night of just sleeping next to each other, you start noticing just how desperate he is for you.

the way he clings onto your body for dear life, how he falls asleep only after you start playing with his hair.

it’s charming really.

semi-nsfw ahead ‼���

your only issue with luke sleeping in your bed is the way he makes sure his hips stay far away from your body. sure, he’s being respectful, he’s a teenage boy- he can’t control it. but you kinda wish he didn’t sometimes.

you’ve tried talking about it with him, but you get to shy. it’s hard for you.

i mean, how on earth do you tell your boyfriend that you know he’s constantly hard for you? and that you also wish he’d tell you? and maybe that you also wish he’d go further than just the occasional boob groping or thigh rubbing?

lol so you don’t. you don’t say a word. instead, you turn around and wrap your leg around his body as you’re laying down, halfway through a sleepy conversation. you cling to his form, rubbing your hands over his back.

you hear him let out a quiet groan, looking down at you like you’re evil as he purses his lips.

“what’s wrong, luke?” you ask innocently, ignoring his clothed length fully twitching against your thigh.

he rolls his eyes and just starts kissing your forehead and cheeks, wrapping his body around yours as he tries to hold himself back a little.

“we’ve been dating for like… over a month.” you whisper, running your fingers through luke’s hair as he rests his head on your chest.

he nods slowly, which sends shivers down your spine. the feeling of his hair tickling your skin never fails to make you flustered.

“if you wanna go further you can ask.” you say quietly.

5 minutes later and you’re under him as your hands grasp onto your bedsheets, now covered in hickeys.

he’s gentle and thoughtful, always asking if it’s okay to continue or not.

he goes slow, leaving kisses all over your body as he watches you squirm and giggle quietly.

he’s sweet and caring and you love the way he makes you feel, and you love watching him go absolutely crazy over your touch.

you probably couldn’t ask for a more attentive and respectful boyfriend. he’s so polite and kind and caring- he makes you feel like you’re a princess.

being a child of hades has made it hard for people to get to know you- the real you. but luke never found it hard to know you past your name. he loves you more than life itself.

[townslore]

you dont wanna know how many times i teared up drawing this,

LOTS of explaining stuff under the cut,,

my bestie and i came up with a lot of new hcs for them today. mostly age stuff which i'll talk abt later but FIRSTLY oh my God the mouse plush. because they're kitty cats.

their mama made it for del originally when he was a baby. because they couldn't afford a lot del ended up giving it to bas when he was born. unfortunately, bas lost it during their time at the igniter facility, just like the paripus charm del gave him at some point.

also before anyone does point this out-- i do know metaphor has its own language letter writing system but Holy hell i'd rather die than figure that out. the way i wrote their names is supposed to be as if del wrote them, in reality it'd be like the actual letters they use. i tried simulating how kids write their names ( bc i see that a lot at my job ) and even wrote it with my left hand, aka my non dominant one, since i hc del is left-handed but he'd write these with his right hand, making it even more difficult for him.

ok now onto the stupid age timeline stuff that gives me a HEADACHE so i apologize if not everything makes complete sense

they live in a small hole-in-a-wall house which is basically just a big living room with a small kitchen space, and an attic. its in some different small corner in grand trad where mostly paripus stay

when del is 4 years old ; bas is born, their papa disappears not long after. presumably ended up like the first paripus you see in grand trad.

when del is 6 and bas is about to turn 3 ; their mama disappears ( well, dies, but they dont know how ) and they eventually end up homeless, still in grand trad

del 12 y/o bas 9 y/o ; as bas says in his third rank, he tries to enlist in the military but gets shut down for being too young, gets invited to the igniter experiment facility instead, not being told their true intentions. he tells del about it and he decides they'll join out of necessity for food and a better place to sleep.

del Maaaaybe around 16 y/o bas 12-13y/o ; this is the age where del stops growing, and bas doesnt proberly wake up one day. hes still short enough to carry and del breaks them out of there after around 4 years of hell. he makes it back to grand trad and rella hears him yell for help near the church ( dear lord please dont ask me how her canon age plays into this i cant think anymore )

; some point after this event they try enlisting in the military again and get in this time, where they.. presumably? meet louis and he takes interest in them.

all of this was put together with the help of my bestie and a lot of inspiration from my fav fanfic ever, "o welche lust" by antelopunny on ao3. go read it. now.

anyway dear god I hope this is good LOL feel free to add stuff or maybe even correct me if i happen to get anything wrong which was different in the game ( i dread the day their actual timeline gets revealed and all my headcanons die alongside it )

[dearlyd3parted]

𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚛𝚍 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚖: 𝙴𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚜 | 𝙼𝚊𝚛𝚔 𝙻𝚎𝚎 𝚡 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

🕸️syp: Mark Lee is many things; A 2nd year college student, A stressed Stark Industries intern, Your friendly neighborhood Spiderman, and also your childhood friend. He's also a secret fifth thing, a loser hopeless romantic who's been in love with you for years. Due to his inexperience, it takes him two failed attempts at a confession until the third is finally a charm. 🕸️mark lee x fem!reader - (127 centered) biggest idiots in love u will ever read 🕸️feat: a bit of nct dream, xiaojun from wayv, and yunjin from lsrfm cause mother 🕸️word count: total 26.2k 🕸️warnings: some profanity (mark is very stressed ok), descriptions of injuries (blood, cuts, bruises), light angst, mostly just misunderstandings and such, brief mention of smoking, eventual smut 🕸️authors note: ok i genuinely had so much fun writing this one i love mark so much and i live to push the spidermark agenda. i don't follow any exact mcu plot. just inspired more heavily by tom holland cinmenatic universe! also he has glasses in this fic, i know canonically spiderman has perfect vision but idc i have a nerd agenda to push ;p i've only proofread once, so pls bear with any typos. to my current followers who were waiting on me to post, i spent a lot of time on this one so that is why content is delayed, but i hope it makes up for it! im doing more piwon next! i really like this one and hope u do too. pls reblog and like and follow for more ദ്ദി(˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧ 🕸️chapter index: chapter 1 chapter 2 chapter 3 tags🏷:

𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝟷: 𝙵𝚛𝚎𝚎 𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚎 𝚙𝚘𝚎𝚝𝚛𝚢 - wc: 8.3k

Mark Lee has always been sure of his identity.

It seems that since birth he has had a very firm grasp on himself, what his personality is like, what he wanted in his future, what he wanted in the very moment. Mark has never been a mystery to him.

When he was in the 6th grade, he knew he was a buzzing personality. He knew he was a jokester, always smiling, always laughing, even when the moment didn't call for it. He knew that he loved to talk about anything, really. He could spend hours talking an unsuspecting classmate's ear off about his favorite subjects (math and english, never science), the video game he just played, or some cool new thing one of his favorite superheroes did.

However, because of his...as one would put it in kind terms, passion for life and anything that excited him slightly, he had a hard time making friends. Sure, he had some, the same handful of guys who had been perpetually stuck with each other since elementary school, but making new ones was the problem.

It was at that point that Mark realized he is also a people pleaser from time to time. Especially at 12 years old when everyone is dying to fit in. So, in order to get some of his peers to find him...not annoying, he tried to mimic their personalities.

Mark amped up the snarky-ness and the sassiness, changed his look to what could best replicate what was popular at the time, and started talking about Tony Stark maybe 30% less (That really was the best he could do).

And surprisingly....it worked. For a bit there, he was thinking he might slowly climb his way up from whimsical nerd to just some dude. God, he wanted to be just some dude so badly.

Then one day he saw you.

You sat alone on the end of a lunch table, a pizza lunchable in front of you as you clicked away on your DSI, seemingly playing...Pokémon? Of course, adorned with a Star Wars backpack sat right next to you. He shuddered a bit at the sight, but not negatively. He just really wished that was him instead of what he was currently doing, trailing behind the kids who play basketball after school with an immense 'cool kid' vibe to them.

Mark took immediate note at how they snickered at you, the word nerd being thrown around being most obviously about you. As he gripped onto his tray, a sly smile masking an internal panic on his face, he figured it was a perfect time to prove himself as he followed his pack leaders.

Mark cleared his throat as he approached you, ready to strike. "Nice backpack, Young Jedi." He snickered, his voice as condescending as he could make it out to be when addressing a really cool backpack.

You paused your game with a swiftness, swiveling around to look at him, not an ounce of offense on your face. Without a beat, your deadbeat expression bounced back.

"Nice bowl cut, loser.”

Needless to say, Mark didn’t make the cut for just some dude. He would be staying a talkative and giggly nerd for a while, he was sure of that fact about himself. He knew that was him. It was okay, though, because he didn’t want friends who he couldn't be himself around. After that whole facade, he knew he wasn’t the nonchalant cool guy he tried to resonate with.

He also knew that after a thorough and heavy apology his friend Taeyong had made him give you, he had just met someone who he resonated with a lot more.

He knew he was your new friend.

(To which you only agreed because of his Captain America themed backpack. Besides, your jab at his bowl cut that truly was awful made it even.)

A year later, he was certain that you were his best friend. Maybe it was a bit selfish that he had so many best friends, you including his flock of seven other boys who had just become stuck to each other.

But…there was something different about you. Like you were his ultra best friend, if thats a thing. After the initial awkwardness of your first meeting, the friendship only soared. Helping each other with homework, rewatching ‘Star Wars: Revenge of The Sith’ for the 30th time, fangirling over Tony Stark and the avengers. He never thought he would meet a girl that understood him so well, and in turn who he understood, too.

Until the 7th grade, he couldn’t quite place what it was that was so different. You were integrated into his group of friends, he didn’t treat you any differently and you didn’t with him. Yet, for some reason, he was happier when you were around, and even happier when it was only the two of you.

His heart was a mixture of things every time he made a joke and you laughed because of him. It had also dawned on him that even if you and him had your many similarities, you were still more reserved and cautious when it came to other people. Despite that, you seemed comfortable around him, enough to confide in him and share whatever you wanted to.

So, when you confided in him tearfully that the boy you had wanted to attend the spring formal with was going with another girl, as your best friend he decided to step in and take you himself to cheer you up.

Seeing you a bit happier at the outcome of that night, wearing a navy blue dress he remembers oh so vividly as the colorful lights seemed to be illuminating your smile, his heart sank to his stomach. That was when it had hit him what had been so different about you.

Mark knew that he liked you. He liked you terribly.

He knew he liked you as he danced with you, his hands tenaciously at your shoulders as you thanked him with a smile for not letting you come alone. He knew he liked ever since you started to feel ‘different’ in the best way possible, and he knew he would keep liking you for a long, long time.

And that is exactly what he did.

Middle school passed by in a flash, and he never liked you any less. In fact it was impossible to not like you more. You, who was always on his side through all his phases, who brought an extra sandwich from home to share with him at lunch, who gifted him the missing star wars comic in his collection for his birthday, who defended him against all the snickers and teases of the rest of the friend group, who was the cutest girl he would ever be blessed to see, who joined the academic decathlon in highschool so he wouldn’t be alone. How could he not crush on you harder?

Just because he liked you so much, didn’t mean that he rushed to act on it. Quite honestly, when he first realized all these feelings were heavy to hold and the only way to let go of them was to confess, he had a nervous breakdown. What would he even say? What would you say? How would he even explain this to you? You were always so headstrong and focused, would a measly schoolboy crush even appeal to you? Was this the end of the world?

Once he calmed down, however, he realized that there was no rush to explain the feelings he himself couldn’t even muster to say aloud. All that mattered is that you were in his life, and he was in yours. And he was pretty damn content with that. Maybe in the future, if he still felt so much and he had gotten much more confident, he’ll be able to tell you. At the moment, 15-year-old and sophomore in highschool Mark had no rush at all.

And then, he was bit by a spider.

Of course, it wasn’t a normal spider. Because god forbid anything ever be normal in Mark’s life. One morning, he woke up with body muscle his lanky limbs did not have when he went to sleep and a strength that broke his desk bunk bed in half. If it wasn’t obvious something was off, his glasses stuck on his hand for the better part of an hour sure confirmed it.

Yup, Mark knew it. He had turned into some sort of a Spiderman.

At least, that’s what he called it. It’s what he decided to go by when a very confused passerby asked him who he was as Mark saved his bike from a thief. A quick sew of some blue and red fabric with a poorly stitched on symbol, and he was putting these powers to test.

He had a good run making a name for himself on Youtube under this ‘Spiderman’ pseudonym. It was a blissful first few months, figuring out the basics of his powers, slamming into the wall maybe only a handful of times, fighting neighborhood crime in a heroic way that he used to only be able to gawk at the avengers doing.

However, ignorance is bliss. Mark couldn’t possibly be ignorant to the way that he was making enemies who didn’t like the interference with their crimes all over queens, and fast. He especially couldn’t ignore it when a particular petty group of criminals had hit rookie Spiderman with everything they had, and the bliss ended as he limped away his first gruesome fight he had managed to win with his life.

As he dragged his way across the city, whimpering and crying as the universe decided to make his first terrible day on the job even worse with rain, he was aware of how roughed up he was, he needed help.

He couldn’t just go to his Aunt and tell her her 15 year old nephew had been putting his life in danger for the last few months. He couldn’t go to the hospital and risk exposing the identity he tried so hard to protect. He certainly couldn’t let his rowdy friends know by showing up to Taeyong’s apartment.

So he found himself barely making it up to your fire escape, knocking with the last bit of strength he had to get your attention from your Calculus homework to his figure in the window. He was limp and a mess of “i’m sorry”’s and “i don’t know where to go”’s as you pulled him in, speechless at the sight in front of you.

You didn’t get angry, you weren’t annoyed, you didn’t ask him a million questions. You only bandaged his wounds, and offered open arms as he cried and cried until he couldn’t anymore.

As Spiderman Mark gripped your hoodie, his tears staining it with salt, he knew he felt safe. God, he always did with you.

He knew that he loved you. Because honestly, wasn’t it impossible not to?

The revelation that he was in love with you didn’t come with much shock, if he asked 6th grade Mark if he knew this day would come, the answer would without any doubt be a yes.

It did come at a turning point in his life, however. He met Tony Stark, got suited up with Stark Industry gear that made every nerd crevice in his mind vibrate, fought with the avengers, nearly joined the avengers, accidentally revealed himself to his aunt, and then his other 7 friends, fought against avenger-level-threat villains, and quickly rose as one of the most famous heroes around.

Throughout everything, he never loved you any less. And even through his trials and tribulations as he settled in this neighborhood Spiderman identity, you never strayed from being his best friend. He didn’t need anything else to feel like the luckiest man in the world.

Except, maybe an answer to the dying question he wanted to know for years and years. Was he just your best friend? Or has he always been something more? On the few times you’ve told him something along the lines of, ‘I will never care about anyone like I do about you, Mark’, (And no, he actually didn’t memorize that one word for word) Did it also mean what he has always meant, or was he just dear to you in the friendliest way possible?

Although Mark was older, 18 years old and graduating from highschool, he still had that same mindset he had as an angsty new teenager. His feelings for you only weighed more and more in tons and tons over the years, especially since he was able to name it as love. Yet, he found it hard to explain why he still hadn’t felt any rush to act on them.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to, even if anyone who would hear his logic might think it was. As he watched you say goodbye to peers and friends at graduation from a distance, happiest as ever in your cap and gown as you were set to attend MIT with him in the fall, he knew it wasn’t because he didn’t want to. He dreamt of it some nights, actually. He hadn’t known you his whole life, but for some reason, it felt like you were always there. When he had that stupid bowl cut, when he tried out for the soccer team and made a fool of himself, when he got his first B on an english paper, when he got bit by that spider and bit off more than he could chew, when he was applying for college and decided to major in computer science and engineering, you were there.

As you pranced back to him as you finished saying your farewells, he couldn’t help but think it would always be this way. You had him, and he had you. The night you both graduated, you both sat on a rooftop, staring at queens under you as you shared a pizza. Naturally, it felt like you would always be there. You were just natural.

Despite that, It had been nearly seven years since he first met you. Nearly seven years since he told himself he would confess when the time was right, when he was more confident and hopefully a little bigger.

He was definitely taller, and involuntarily grew some muscle. Luckily, his hair hadn’t seen the after effects of a bowl cut in years. His voice didn’t squeak when he talked to you or any girl for that matter, and he liked to think he was 10% less of a nerd. At least, enough to be charming when it counted.

So as you both left highschool for your first year at NYU, he decided he checked a sufficient amount of boxes to go for it. However, it was clearly going to be harder said than done. Just seeing you the night after he made up his mind that the time has finally come, his forehead was slick with nervous sweat and somehow he walked right into a pole. Your questioning about why his ‘Mark tingle’ hadn’t worked–which is what you had named his 6th spider-sense–didn’t help not one bit.

Truth is, it was terrifying. He didn’t know why. He had fought against intergalactic villains and catched runaway trains with his bare hands. Yet a simple ‘I’m madly in love with you’ was too much for him to handle.

Mark composed himself, running it through his mind during every late night patrol. He was going to do it, and soon. First, he had to get over the initial fear. After that, love sparks would fly.

Soon turned into weeks later, then months, and then an entire year. Before Mark could blink, it was the 2nd year of university and the ‘initial’ fear seemed to be a perpetual one.

In his defense, the first year of college was very busy. The both of you were buried in the books, biochemical and computer science engineering not being easy majors, and of course trying to maintain extracurriculars. Mark with his Stark Industries internship, that both was still a pseudonym for Spiderman duties, and this time around an actual internship he had begged Mr. Stark for. You, with the school's Debate team and interning wherever it counted and wherever paid.

Mark would be a liar if he said there was absolutely no time, though. A plus to the both of you being the unassuming and socially awkward nerds all throughout the years meant that you didn’t peak in highschool. University could be a time to blossom, be more social, enjoy the journey a little more, maybe attend a party or two.

Watching you in this beaming light as you entered a new chapter of your life, an enigma shining more than ever, it only intimidated Mark even more. Which is why his after-graduation-confession plans had stretched out a whole year later.

Mark never felt like he was losing you, though. Losing his mind? Most definitely, but not you. You were closer than ever, Mark was content.

Telling himself that he had you on his side through everything, and he would continue to have just that is what helped him sleep at night. He would stop being a coward eventually, and just like the movies, the sun would shine a halo around you, his eyes would meet yours, and he could finally confess. Time, there was lots of it, right?

Wrong. Again, it seemed like Mark’s reality was always perpetually shifting or going the opposite direction that he was aiming for.

Today, he found himself standing outside of one of the many NYU buildings, waiting for your cell biology class to be done with. It had become a habit to him to make sure you got back to your apartment safely after classes that ran into the evening, claiming that as the resident neighborhood spiderman, it was his duty to escort you. Even though in reality, you were capable of getting around just fine, and this was just another excuse for Mark to spend even more time with you.

He was wiping down his glasses when he heard the door open and you walked out, tired out from a full day of classes. He wasted no time putting on his glasses back on, making sure he caught every bit of you. Mark always thought you looked best like this, hair down and tousled in comfy clothes, today a cardigan and some baggy jeans, the night making your features even softer.

You smiled despite your weariness, waving at him, and Mark smiled right back. “Hi, Mark.” you said, walking up to him as you clutched onto your bag.

Mark reached for it, slinging it over his shoulders, the heaviness of textbooks and all your other supplies being nothing to him. “Y/n! How was your day?” He asked enthusiastically.

You stared at him with those eyes you get, sighing as you looked down. “It was alright…I got assigned two group projects, though. I mean, two, seriously? In the first month of school?” You complained and talked with your hands like you always did when you were angry, as you both started walking, Mark listening to every word.

Mark inhaled sharply, making a face at the thought. “Yikes. Two on the same day is some luck. My operating systems professor said we would have a group project soon as well, but at least we get to choose our partners.”

You pouted up at him, finding your situation unfair. “We can’t even have that luxury. I don’t know any of the people I was assigned with.” You complained with a frustrated sigh.

Mark sympathized with you, knowing how unfortunate that must be, but when you looked so expressive and adorable as you complained, it was hard for his heart to stay still in its cage. “That really does sound like it sucks. I hope they aren’t rude or some slackers.”

You shook your head looking off at the city in front of you, when all Mark could do was look at you. “I don’t think they will be too bad. The group project for cell bio, I got this one guy…Xiaojun, I think, for a partner. He seems like he’ll be a big help.”

Mark’s head tilted, his glasses tilting in the process. “Mm, really? How so?”

You looked at Mark with a pursed smile, shrugging at the recollection. “He’s very receptive, first to offer to help with research. Gave me his number so I could call him ‘if anything’, so I gave him mine as well. He’s nice, a little too nice maybe, but nice.”

Mark felt an uncomfortable lump in his throat, he hadn’t heard of you and any other guy in ages. He didn’t want to. As he took in what you had said, recognizing the name of a pretty well-known school heartthrob, exchanging numbers with him, and even the whispered fact of him being too nice, he didn’t like it. Not one bit. Surely it couldn’t be that this Xiaojun was…taking an interest in you?

Mark had to make sure as he forced down the lump that prevented him from speaking. “Ah…so sounds like…he’s flirting with you.”

You both came to a stop at an intersection. You pondered your words as Mark stared at you, reading your every visible thought. “It seems like it. He’s a nice guy but I'm not interested if that is the case…because…” You said, your words trailing off as you looked at Mark with a distant look in your eye and shrugged after a moment. “I guess, I don’t have a reason to not be interested. Should at least hear the guy out, I suppose.”

Mark’s heart sank to the floor in record speeds. And he’s jumped off of buildings. As the light turned from the orange hand to the walking man, he stalled a few seconds, shaking off this new dread as he jogged a little to match your pace. “H-hear him out? So you…you like him?”

You giggled a bit, shaking your head with a smile. “I didn’t say that. I just met the guy. All I’m saying is I’ve always said no, no, no, and no. Maybe it’s time to move…Uh, I mean, to stop saying no so quickly.”

All Mark could process in that sentence is that there were others that you had to say no to. As he looked down at the sidewalk he was strolling on, his world view seemed to crack a bit. He had always known how amazing you were. Your eyes an ocean he wanted to sail. Your hair framing you in the most flattering way. Your sarcasm and humor that brightens his day. Your drive. Your kindness. Your intelligence. Your generosity. Should he keep going? He could, he could spend days listing everything that was right in you. It had just never dawned on him that other hormonal and sappy guys like him could do the same and act on it. Worse, that you could entertain it.

“As in…look for someone?” Mark asked, his voice sounding pathetic beyond his control.

You sighed, staring off at the distance, not wanting to look at him. “I don’t know…it’s just…something I've been thinking about. It feels like I'm overdue to try my hand at this whole love thing…”

Overdue. Overdue. Is that really how you felt? Mark supposes you have both gone your whole lives without dating someone. At this point in your lives, that can be considered a while. Mark had never felt like he was lacking in that category, love, because he had so much of it for you. You didn’t know that, though, and now you felt overdue.

Mark’s palms were sweaty as he gripped the straps of both of your bags. “There’s…no rush, though, right...?” He questioned, trying to preach his own stupid, stupid anthem.

You nodded, a bit solemnly if he had to add, looking up at him with a strange mix of a smile and pout. “You’re right. No rush.”

Mark sighed a breath of relief. A relief that didn’t last long as you spoke up again. “But there’s also no reason to push it away anymore.”

Mark had so many questions, such as why were you set on ‘pushing it away’ until now, where the hell did this Xiaojun come from, how it can be possible that a certainty he awoke with this morning can crumble a mere few hours later, and how he could possible be so stupid, stupid, stupid, cowardly, and naive?

Mark inhaled a sharp breath, trying to stabilize himself. He wanted to freak out, he wanted so badly to bring the both of you to a halt and grab your hands, begging for you to not even think about this. However, that would also be stupid, and if he showed that he was anything short of understanding during this conversation, you would never share anything like this with him again. Then, he would be completely in the dark about your apparently beginning love life.

“If…that’s what you want.”

Stupid. Idiot. Buffon.

There it was again, that forced smile that Mark was too busy internally panicking to notice himself. “He hasn’t even said anything that confirms the suspicion. But…I’ll see. I’ll figure out what it is that I want.”

Mark nodded, trying to play it cool as his fingernails dug into his palm. He didn’t even notice that you had arrived at the train station, standing in front of the train that took you home.

You looked up at him, smiling softly as you reached up to flick hair out of his face. It didn’t help the melting pot that was his current emotions. “You texted early that you wanted to get an early patrol. You should go get ready. I’ll be okay from here.”

Mark normally would have shaken his head no immediately, insisting that he take you all the way to your front door. Today however, he felt as if the longer he spent around you, the closer he was to losing it. “You sure? I really don’t mind-” is all he managed to say as you cut him off.

“Positive. I can join you on comms later tonight. Gotta get some homework done first.” You said, looking back as the train started to pull into a stop. “You go get ready. And eat something or you’ll be off your game. Last time you went out hungry you nearly crashed in an office window.”

Mark chuckled as he rubbed the back of his neck, thinking to himself that of course only you could make him laugh and make him want to yell in such a short span. “Aye-aye captain, I’ll do that. You better go before the train leaves.”

You nodded, taking back your bag from him and waving. “I’ll come to yours tomorrow. We have o-chem in the morning. We can swing there?”

Mark smiled, as best as he could by this point, nodding. “Yeah, we’ll swing there. Text me when you’re home.”

You shot a thumbs up as the train doors opened and you rushed to get in. “I will, bye Mark! Careful!”

His heart warmed, you had always told him to be careful, no matter the hundreds and hundreds of times he must have gone out now. It wasn’t enough to make him unball his fists though. “Bye, Y/n.” He said back, missing its added sense of joy.

He watched as you walked in, taking a seat and looking back at him once. He didn’t even have the guts to stand there and watch you leave, looking back twice before he was sprinting up the subway stairs and running down the street.

The slight chill in the night felt even colder as he ran, wind blowing smack in his face, but he kept running until he found an alleyway, running deep into it until he was out of sight, away from any pedestrian eyes. The cuff Mr. Stark had given him came in handy at times like these, when all he wanted to do was be suited up as soon as he could, His heart wouldn’t stop racing as the press of a button had him in his full spider-suit. He tightened his backpack onto himself, and he was off, shooting himself up in the air, and running across a ledge before throwing himself off.

He didn’t even react as he reached closer to the ground than normal, shooting a web to divert his fall just in time. Even when he was swinging way too fast, weaving through buildings and poles and cars. All he could think about you and your words. When he woke up in the morning, he thought he had time, lots of it. Now as dusk falls over and the cars underneath him couldn’t be as loud as his thoughts, he finds out he doesn’t. Or perhaps he did, and now it had run out on him.

.   　˚ ✭　 * ✦　. ‧₊˚🕷‧₊˚　.　✦　˚ .˚　 ✭　.

“So, the last thing I said was, ‘I’ll figure out what it is that I want,’ and then we got to the train station.” You finished explaining to your roommate, Yunjin, as she sat on the opposite side of the couch.

You had only met Yunjin last year, but she already felt like one of your best friends you had ever made because of how easy it was to tell her all of your problems. Of course, you already had one of those, Mark Lee, who had been wreaking havoc in your life since you had first caused him to become the laughingstock of the popular kids back in 6th grade. But you couldn’t tell him absolutely all of your problems. Especially the biggest one, that you had always had a strange sense of infatuation for him that you expected to go away, yet here you were.

If you had to pinpoint when it began, you would say when he knocked on your window sophomore year of high school, bloodied and in the famous original spiderman costume. Mark had always been loveable, long before he got bit by that spider. It was what you liked most about him, his ability to always see the positive, to always somehow wear a smile and a laugh. In someone like that, it takes the utmost trust for them to allow the most vulnerable parts of themselves to be seen.

So, it wasn’t the suit that made you realize what you had felt. Even if you had been a major Spiderman fan and the revelation was only a little life changing, that was the last thing on your mind. He was hurt, he was scared, and he needed someone, and his first thought was you.

You thought it was a fluke, feeling so much for someone so unexpected. Surely, it was bound to go away. Yet, it didn’t. The feeling was nagging and adamant, just like Mark, and refused to let go.

After some time, you came to terms with the fact that nothing about it was unexpected at all. Since you met Mark, you spent every waking moment with him. Going to your first hero convention, building the Lego death star you got for your birthday, the school trip to Venice, middle school dances, high school dances, all of it was Mark, Mark, Mark, Mark. Every memory, the good and bad, that held a special place in your heart had Mark. How was he not to become special as well?

You thought about coming straight out with it, hoping to get closure or acceptance or anything that would help maim the feeling of overflowing love. However, Mark wasn’t just Mark anymore, he was Spiderman. While the latter didn’t matter much to you, it had become a part of who he was. With his great powers, came great responsibility. Not just that, but it seemed like him almost dying every other weekend had become his new reality. While it was stressful watching Mark go through all of that, even as you became his girl-in-the-chair of sorts to help him on patrols, you couldn’t imagine how stressful it was for Mark for himself. It felt unfair to throw a confession on top of everything he already had to deal with.

So, you decided if anything were to happen between you two, Mark would have to initiate it.

While you may have kept it better under wraps, Mark always wore his emotions on his sleeves. It would take an outstanding idiot to not notice the way he acted around you. The way his ears go pink before his cheeks do, the way on occasion he’ll forget to respond as he stares in a trance, or he’ll fumble with whatever object he has in his hand. Mark had always had those awkward, loser-ish tendencies, but it was undeniable at how they seemed to be at their worst whenever you were around.

He had to have at least entertained the idea. So, therefore it was just a waiting game. When Spiderman was ready to take that leap, so were you.

You waited, and waited, waited, and waited, and waited some more. Suddenly, the second year of university came, and you were still waiting.

Honestly, it had brought you down that no moves were made as you graduated high school. Needless to say, that the fact he was still radio silent when entering university only made you more discouraged and had you wondering if your premonition was wrong after all.

Your new roommate turned friend, however, was quick to catch onto your gloominess, and almost immediately connected the dots that it was about Mark.

Since you caught her up on everything she needed to know, while of course keeping Mark’s secret locked away, she had become a trusted person to confide in. As opposed to your clear inexperience, Yunjin had more experience on her love life resume, and was always at bay with advice.

Her recent advice being something that she believed would speed up the process, to display your availability, and to flaunt that you were planning on using it. In whatever form that may be.

So, when Xiaojun exchanged numbers with you, (and in your defense, was indeed being a little too friendly) it was the perfect opportunity to test the theory.

That is how you found yourself here, playing the conversation back and forth amongst each other to try and decipher if it worked.

Yunjin groaned, hand coming down to smack the pillow in her lap. “‘I’ll figure out what it is that I want.’ You guys are impossible. It is crystal clear what you both want.” She said with a shake of her head. “Is that really all he said? ‘If that’s what you want?’ How did he…I don’t know, was he panicky or shaky or anything?”

You thought about it with a sigh, shrugging. “I mean, I guess he was a little. At the stop walk he…almost forgot to move? But he had just come from that Stark internship, he’s always like that after it. Like a deer in headlights.”

Yunjin sighed as well, biting her bottom lip in thought. “Okay, this is good. This is a good start. We’ll just have to ramp up the Xiaojun thing and eventually, he’ll be forced to crack.”

You smiled, a little bittersweetly, your hands clenched together. “I hope it plays out like that…otherwise all this for nothing.”

Yunjin could read you like a book, a superpower of hers Mark didn’t always have, ironically. “Not for nothing. You know, you could always say something.”

You looked up at her with a knowing look, shaking your head with a sigh. “You know I can’t. He’s got too much to deal with, he’s literally sp…super busy. With school and the stark internship. I just can’t.”

Yunjin nodded as she stood up, taking the memo not to pry any further. “Alright, I hope this works then, for the sake of you both.” She said as she grabbed your face in her hands jokingly. “Seriously. I’m sick of looking at it.”

You swatted her hand away, chuckling. You hoped it worked too. With your whole being.

.   　˚ ✭　 * ✦　. ‧₊˚🕷‧₊˚　.　✦　˚ .˚　 ✭　.

Mark landed on the roof of his apartment that night exhausted from a full day of work followed by an evening patrol. Crime was quiet lately, with his biggest cases today being a measly shoplifter and a cat stuck in a tree. The type of quiet that came before a storm. Mark had too much on his mind to think about that, however. All of which involves you.

He deactivated his suit and found himself back in regular clothes, waltzing his way down the rooftop access stairs, all the way to his apartment on the 6th floor. 

He came in fidgety and anything but calm, seemingly too pumped with adrenaline and emotion to be as tired as he usually is after days like this.

Mark had the opportunity to be roommates with two of his friends, Johnny and Doyoung. Luckily for him and unluckily for his friend, Johnny was sitting on the couch, a gaming controller in his hands as he looked up to see the ball of nervousness make its way into the once mellow apartment. “Hey, Mark.” Johnny greeted, not talking his eyes off the TV. “You wanna play overwatch? Doyoung’s out for the night.”

Mark could barely register the question, his backpack slamming on the kitchen table as he plopped down on the couch next to Johnny. “What? No, no. I’m good, don’t wanna play. I have to talk to you, though.”

Johnny sighed, not taking his eyes off the screen. If his hands weren’t so busy, he’d probably grab his head too. The subject was painfully obvious. “What’s up?”

Mark sat back, looking at the ceiling. “Y/n. I messed up. So bad, dude.”

Johnny nodded, trying to feign surprise. “I see. How is she by the way? I haven’t seen her in a while.”

Mark ran his hand through his hair, shooting the back of Johnny’s head a look at the inappropriate question during his time of stress. “She’s fine, dude. She told me something today.” Mark said, taking a deep breath to begin his rant. “You know, I told you…I’m confessing soon. Or I’m planning to. When I work up to it. I thought…shit. I’m so stupid. I thought she’d wait for me. She doesn’t even know, but I thought she’d wait. Apparently, there’s this dumb guy she has a group project with. Xiaojun, that’s his name. He’s flirting with her, I’m assuming. They exchanged numbers and everything.”

Johnny listened with his eyes a little narrowed, nodding in understanding. “Ah. I know that guy. He’s pretty cool.”

The look on Mark’s face couldn’t be described as anything less than offended. “He is arguably not. I mean…I know people must try to hit on her and stuff, but she was like…all cryptic. Saying things like ‘maybe it’s time to not say no so quickly’ and ‘I’m overdue at this love thing.’ She says she doesn’t like him but…she’s…she’s looking to date right? It’s gotta mean that.”

Johnny raised his eyebrows, fighting the urge to keep playing his game or turn and start shaking Mark by his shoulders. “Listen, Mark. Y/n’s a nice girl, full package, great person, gorgeous as well, and a single college student. Dating is kinda what you do. Especially with someone like Xiaojun.”

Mark’s world couldn’t crumble any faster. If only Doyoung was there instead, he at least would have broken the news a little nicer. “Oh, God. Shit. What…what do I do? She’s gonna start...dating.” He muttered with his hands on his face, glasses pushing up to his head.

Johnny stifled a groan. “Mark, you do what you should’ve done years ago. You just tell her, man.”

Mark didn’t like that answer. Of course, it was the only one that made sense, but he was hoping that someone would have some sort of miracle solution. “You say that like it’s easy.”

“Shouldn’t it be though?” Johnny retorted. “I mean, you’ve known this girl nearly half of your life. She cares about you a lot. You see it, I see it, we all see it. A confession isn’t going to break a bond like this, it can’t. You’ve got to know by now that what you’ve got is stronger than that.”

In the eyes of Mark, what Johnny said went against what every imagined worst-case scenario told him, even if logically it had made sense. You weren’t the type of person to cause a grand thing or make Mark feel bad about something so small. That was inherently the problem, however. Nothing about this was small. Small is the last word he would use to describe how he feels about you. You wouldn’t consider small something that could fill every ocean on earth's surface and then some. “How do I even tell her? I can’t just say ‘I’m in love with you.’” Mark argued, his voice sounding more and more pathetic.

Johnny used a brief moment to shoot a look at Mark, his eyes going back to the TV as he finally put his controller down and completely discarded the match he was in, leaning on his knees. “At this point, that’s exactly what you say. Your problem is that you’re trying to make it too grand, too perfect. Y/n has never been the type to be a stickler for that. It doesn’t matter how you do it, it won’t affect the outcome. If the feelings are there, which if you ask me, I think they are, then they’re there. Plain and simple.” 

Mark felt a lot of things, but at that moment defeat was most prominent. He had been imagining for years how he would confess to you. In one fantasy he would buy a billboard in Times Square and take you to see it, or perhaps he would learn the guitar and write you a song. He could make his own advent calendar, buy you a present everyday each specifically curated to your wants, and on the final day, a beautiful piece of jewelry. You deserved nothing short of perfect, but now he had to ask himself if that was really what you would want, or if he’s trying to pull every string he can for it to work in his favor. 

“So, what do I do…?” Mark said quietly, running his hand through dark hair.

“I just told you. Just tell her. Write her a poem, take her to dinner, or just straight up come out with it. Just tell her, as soon as you can, before it’s too late.” Johnny said, a supportive hand patting Mark’s back. “No more waiting. You’ve run out of time. I’ve told you this before, but I promise you it’ll turn out fine.”

It had been a wild afternoon filled with many unwanted revelations and a nasty swirl of emotions, but the quick conversation had brought Mark to the eye of the storm. He was backed into a corner, with only one way out, and that realization had finally dawned on him. “You’re…you’re right. I have to…as soon as I can.” 

Johnny ruffled Mark’s hair, reaching for his controller. “That’s the spirit. You wanna play Overwatch now?” 

Mark shot up and grabbed his bag from the table. “Nah, I’ll pass. I’m beat. I’ll probably just go to sleep, honestly.”

Johnny nodded as he returned his focus back to the TV. “Night, then. Don’t stare at your ceiling all night.”

Mark scoffed as he called from the hallway. “Wasn’t gonna do that. And goodnight!”

1.

He didn’t stare at his ceiling, but he did stare at his desk and lined paper almost all night. Johnny’s first idea of writing a poem was thrown out there randomly, but Mark didn’t think it was half bad. It was a short read on your end, and easy to get the point across without Mark having to do much talking. So, he wrote away, trying various different styles. From haikus to Shakespearean sonnets, to a ballad, each one frustrating him more and more. He even tried to make his usually sloppy writing neater than usual with cursive.

In his last attempt, he decided to ditch all rules of quatrains, lines, and rhyme schemes and instead write whatever he was feeling in a free verse poem. Finally, he felt the poem was right. Enough to say what he needed yet not including the words he needed to tell you himself. With a sigh, he laid out the poem neatly on his desk, ridding all evidence of his struggle the past hour by clearing off all pens and discarding all crumbled up sheets of paper in a trash can.

Mark found himself staring at it over with pride. Was it cheesy? Yeah. Was Mark a hopeless romantic? Certainly. That is just who Mark is, he knows that. After all these years spent with him, surely you know that too by now.

He was drained by this point, his eye lids that have felt stretched open the past few hours feeling too heavy for him to fight against them. Finally, he flopped on his bed, being able to close his eyes and drift to sleep, with plans to give you the poem laid on his desk the next time he saw you. 

.   　˚ ✭　 * ✦　. ‧₊˚🕷‧₊˚　.　✦　˚ .˚　 ✭　.

Mark didn’t process that he would be seeing you much sooner than he expected. Soon being the next morning that you had set to head to class together. How could he when he was so out of it? He hadn’t felt as physically and emotionally tired as he did yesterday in a while, which consequently probably caused him to sleep through his alarm the next morning. 

So, he slept like a boulder, missing all of your incoming calls and texts saying that you were headed to him, blissfully unaware of the poem laid out on his desk.

Mark still slept like a baby as you arrived at his apartment, and of course Doyoung had let you in without hesitation. It was completely out of his control as you made your way to his room on a mission to wake him up. Mark stirred awake, slowly and whiny, as you shook his shoulder, your voice quiet yet enough to wake him up gently. “Mark…you overslept. Get up now, so we won’t be late.”

Mark groaned, rubbing his eyes as you stepped away from him, your job complete. In Mark’s freshly awoken state, he didn’t see what the problem was as you browsed around his room while he gained consciousness, eventually pulling his desk chair out to sit at. Sitting down, your curious eyes landed on the only thing that was laid out, his poem. Well, your poem.

He sat up, his hands still attacking his eyes, trying to rub the sleep away, and you were already well into reading it. Your face was a scramble of feelings that only grew in perplexion as you read every last word, and even getting the chance to read it twice before Mark realized. After a particularly effective yawn and stretch, his eyes landed on you with your eyes set on the paper. Only then did Mark shoot up on his feet, his limbs stumbling as he decided if he should play it cool or snatch the paper from your hands, his only thought being, “please tell me she didn’t read it, please tell me she didn’t read it, please tell me she didn’t read it, please tell me she didn’t read it.”

At Mark’s not very subtle reaction, you put the paper down, looking up at Mark from the chair. “That’s…” Is all you managed to say, not being able to choose between the words intense, beautiful, star striking, devoted, or out of place in Mark’s room. So instead, you stayed speechless for a moment, another feeling the poem invoked as you studied his every move. “Did you write that…? For who? Your writing looks different-”

In a split second, Mark was torn between answering your question with a “yes” and several “you, you, you, you, it’s all about you, only about you," ’s which is what he should have done, or lying his head off. 

The image in his mind of you sat in front of him, seeking answers to your questions, looking at Mark like you were searching for something, it seemed to move in slow motion. This was the plan, was it not? He would hand you the poem, and then he would just admit it was about you. You were more than smart enough to piece together what that implied. 

As he cut you off, he hoped that was what came out, a mere couple of words that would be all he needed to say in the moment. However, when has anything ever gone his way?

“I didn’t write it!”

Mark said a little too desperately, wishing he could exit this sack of meat and bones and punch it across the face. “Not my writing. Too neat. I uh…I found it…on my desk! In my coding class! Must be some kind of secret admirer, I think.” He exclaimed, watching as your face went from something that he couldn’t tell was hope to neutrality, drinking in his lie as fast as he had come up with it.

“Oh…well, that’s…wow. They must really like you,” you pondered as your eyes grazed over the paper.

Somehow, the poem that he had poured his heart into for you, had turned into the sign of affection that a made up secret admirer had written for Mark. If you weren’t right in front of him, he’d fall to his knees, grabbing his head in his hands as his first confession attempt results in a failure down the drain. “Yeah…I guess so…”

Turns out, confessing right away was going to be much harder than he imagined.

.   　˚ ✭　 * ✦　. ‧₊˚🕷‧₊˚　.　✦　˚ .˚　 ✭　.

chap. 2

chap. 3

[somuchbetterthanthat]

Obsessed this morning with the fact that Martin is set up as Elias's enemy, not Jon. Jon might be the one who goes to Daisy first to figure out a plan to get rid of Elias, but Martin is the one who stands up to him and "defeats" him using Elias's general methods of manipulation. Martin is the one who "really wants" to kill Elias in S4, and do not do it only because that's also what Peter wants and he realizes that's sketchy. Something Elias was betting on. QUITE LITERALLY.

Jon is furious at the beginning of S5, but I don't think he talks about killing Elias -- he says he's so angry at him, he says he wants to hunt him down but! he doesn't say kill. MARTIN, throughout alll of S5, is the one who insists they're gonna get there and kill Elias. In fact, when they talk about Jon stopping to go on a murder spree, Martin is the one who insists "but we're still killing Elias, right?" and Jon says "..sure" but it's quieter and more hesitant already. Martin readily admits he fantasizes about killing Elias then kissing his boyfriend on top of his corpse in victory!

Martin is supposed to be Elias's enemy!! ELIAS considers Martin his enemy -- absolutely not Jon, not really. "Where is Martin?" he asks. "I thought he'd be the one to do the deed" he says. INSANE!

You know what is also insane? Narratively Martin has a chance of killing Elias twice and refuses, leading to ConsequencesTM. First time he stops Melanie from doing it, second time he goes against Peter's plan and doesn't do it himself. Narratively, you would expect that the third time the charm. In fact, I think Elias would have find poetry in it -- and Martin maybe not the satisfaction he'd hoped for, giving up a part of himself and dirtying his hands at last killing someone he really wanted dead. There's a world where that IS narratively satisfying, in fact (Martin killing Elias forgetting about ConsequencesTM and seeing his boyfriend immediately ascend ultimate monster godhood instead...)

but no. after all this. Jon does it. of course Jon does it. WHO ELSE but Jon could do it?? Jon said it himself! He's the only one who can. Cause Elias and Martin might be pit against each other, but this is about Jon reclaiming his agency at last.

Elias didn't think he'd be able to do it; i doubt Jon thought for the longest time that he'd be able to do it, because -- here's the thing, when he kills in S5 he says it's vengeance: only killing those who hurt him. and it makes him feel worse. which is why he hesitates saying yes to killing Elias again: cause what else would killing Elias be BUT vengeance, for everything he's done to Jon??? I feel it's why Jon DOES manage to kill Elias: because he convinces himself it's not about him. It's about everybody else. And he can do that. Killing Elias becomes not personal, but necessary.

...And I don't know where i'm going with this now i'm just rambling. God there is a world where I can see myself liking s5 so much more. BUT I LOVE THE ENEMIES DYNAMICS BETWEEN ELIAS AND MARTIN AND THEN JON COMES WITH THE STEEL CHAIR IN THE BACK OK

[simping-writting-mess]

This is my goodbye

Sumary: one last night. One last kiss. One last I love you

TW: smut, angts, no confort, reader pov, manhwa spoilers, no beta

Another moan breaks free from my lips thanks to the intense piston of his hips into mine, before I could voice the concerns that it’s flooding my mind. I know him like the palm of my hand and I know there is something he wont tell me. A heavy burden that my beloved thick-headed things he can bear alone. Over the time we have been together, I thought I taught him that he is not alone. That we are a team. It seems I was wrong.

An intense push of his hip makes me lose my train of thoughts grounding me to the present where Jinwoo is ravishing my body. Normally the sex is rough and intense but today even though his movements are slower, his intensity is not lesser. His movements are like he wanted to feel every push and fill every corner of my body, like he wanted to stretch the intimate moment we are sharing in each other's arms. Today we are not having sex, today we are making love, pouring all love in our hearts.

Our lips barely separate, just enough to fill our lungs with enough oxygen to continue kissing, his thrust becoming sloppier indicating his climax is near. I’m not in better condition. While I’m sure this is his first orgasm of the night, I feel my third coming soon. He’s always been like this. Jinwoo is not satisfied until I come at least two times before thinking about his release.

One final rub against that spot that make my back bend was all he needed to make me lose control of my body and feel my vision with stars. My moans and screams were muffled with his hot mouth. I can feel the thick ropes of his release paint my insides white. His strong arms held me as if his life depended on it.

We took a few minutes to regain our breaths holding each other not wanting to let go. My heart is telling me that if I do, I'll probably never see him again. After what felt like hours enjoying the afterglow I finally voice what has been in my mind since he corner me at the kitchen counter.

“Jinwoo?” I didn't have to wait much for his signal that I have his undivided attention and came with a kiss on the top of my head “Are you ok?”

For a second his body tense. I didn't need his words to tell me what I already know. Something is bothering him. I also know he won't tell me so I'll have to give him the space and time for him to open up with me.

“I'm more than ok with you in my arms” Who would have he would be so charming. When I met him he was shy and awkward. Now his smiles can send me to the clouds.

“You know you can tell me anything right?” I slip a little from his grip to see him eye to eye. His mouth may be hiding things from me but his eyes can't “You don't have to carry your burdens alone. We are a team”

“I know.” His hands guide me against his chest and his arms wrap around me like a child clinging to his plushie seeking comfort after a nightmare. Jinwoo is in pain but wont share it with me and i don't have the heart to push him more.

After a few silent moments enjoying each other's presence, his hands travel from my back to my legs massaging my thigh finding his place between them and with a last “I love you” I know the night is not over yet.

A soft kiss on my temple was the reason for my awakening. My eyes flutter open on time to see his silhouette exiting the bedroom, closing softly the door behind him. the oppressive feeling of last night came back SCREAMING at me to not let him go. Ignoring the soreness of my limbs, I threw on the first piece of clothes I found. A shirt. His shirt. And ran after him.

I threw open the door and I guess that he wasn't expecting me because he looked back surprise to find me awake.

“Jinwoo please! Tell me what’s happening!” I begged. My heart aches with the possibility that this could be the last time I see him.

It took a few minutes for him to compose himself and regain his calm semblance just for a soft smile, the smile only reserved for his family, to find his way in his face and walk to me with his arms open to cage me in them. My arms found their place around him like many other times i have done but this time my grip is stronger not wanting to let go.

“I love you” With a final kiss on the top of my head and a last confession of his love for me he giggle from my hug to till my chin up to look at his eyes “ and thank you for loving me”

And just like that his body became dark and ethereal in my arms, vanishing in the shadows. I drop to the floor when my knees could hold me any more and tears escape from my eyes running free on my cheeks finding their demise on the floor where I left heartbroken. Jinwoo’s idea was to protect me from a difficult truth but could protect me from the void left by his goodbye.

[thirstbxtch]

Steno

Pairing: John Munch x Reader

Rating: E

John's curious as to why you would break things off with a seemingly great guy.

Started watching SVU from the beginning for the first time as an adult.

Became unexpectedly feral for Detective Munch.

Lack of content has brought me out of retirement.

You're in one of the courthouse break rooms grabbing a coffee when Detective John Munch comes in.

"Hey, haven't seen you in awhile," he says, also pouring a coffee. You lean back against the counter sipping yours.

You run into each other sometimes, being a stenographer. You like it when you're assigned to a trial he's called to testify on, like today. The sound of his voice. His sometimes dryly sarcastic responses given during cross examination. You both have the same sense of humor. He likes you because you never ask him to spell anything, including psychological terminology.

John gives an "ah" of understanding.

You sigh.

"Got tied up on a double homicide. Mistrial. It's on hold while they find a new jury."

"How you've been? How's Eric?" He teases pleasantly.

Eric was an up-and-coming attorney you'd started dating about two months ago.

"Over that fast? Did it even have time to get started?" John jokes.

You make a face.

"Mmm, just went ahead and ended it. Wasn't going anywhere."

You shrug nonchalant.

"Well, when you know, you know."

He nods, deciding not to push.

"You?"

"This case has been a bitch, I'm expecting the trial will be as well."

"Seems to be headed that way."

You check your watch.

"Better get back to it, recess is almost up. You know how Judge Schneider is when it comes to punctuality."

"Oh believe me, I know."

The jury reaches a verdict after three days of deliberation. Now the end of the third day, Munch is there to hear it, sitting in the gallery.

Your fingers hover over the stenotype in anticipation as they stand to deliver.

"The jury has found the defendant Not Guilty, your honor."

There's a stunned kind of silence throughout the court room. It takes you a second to process before you can transcribe it.

You glance over at Munch. Stony expression says it all.

He approaches you once it's all over, the courtroom clearing, you're gathering your things.

John's standing there tall and slender, black suit, dark grey shirt, dark salt and pepper hair brushed back. Blue tie with his signature silver tie clip.

"I could use a drink after that, care to join?"

He's not really expecting you to agree, but what the hell right.

Handsome in an academic sort of way.

"You drive?"

"Yeah, actually, same."

Can't be any harm in commiserating with someone in essentially the same field. Your friends only put up with so much of your work talk.

"No, not today, took the subway."

He looks at you, skeptical.

"What?"

He shakes his head, pulling his keys out of his pocket.

"Alright, come on."

He takes you to a quiet, little bar, where you'll actually be able to hear each other talk. Soft piano music playing in the background.

John orders a Scotch, neat, and you order a Manhattan.

After about an hour and two drinks of lamenting the outcome of the trial, debating the downfalls of the legal system, and generally catching up --John decides he's curious.

"So--wanna tell me what actually happened with Erick?" Tone only half serious.

"Is this why you brought me out? To get the details of my romantic life?" You reply, teasing.

"Well I'd tell you the details of mine, but it's non-existent," he replies in that signature deadpan way.

"I have a hard time believing that."

"Believe it."

You finish your drink and signal for another. He waits, expectantly. Sometimes half of getting people to talk is just being quiet.

"I did tell you, just wasn't going anywhere, no point in wasting time when you know it's not going to work," you explain.

John finishes his drink and leans forward, elbows resting on the bar, also signaling for another.

"Ok, but why wasn't it going anywhere? Come on, the guy is practically prince charming-- attractive, good job, promising career, nice car, apartment on the nice side of town from what I hear-- If that's not considered 'going anywhere' for women, what possible hope can there be for me?"

You smile and roll your eyes, playful, as the bartender places new drinks in front of you.

"Yeah, he sounds great on paper, but we just weren't compatible."

John studies you now, trying to read beneath the smiles and guarded responses.

"Did he hurt you?" He asks frankly.

You give him a pointed look.

"No, nothing like that Detective," you place a hand on his upper arm, attempting to placate him, "trust me, it's not that serious."

John glances down at your hand on his arm. The light touch somehow burning through his suit jacket and shirt. Brings his eyes back to yours. A moment. Another smile before you withdraw.

You each sip your drinks.

"If I tell you, it stays between us ok?"

"Hey, loose lips sink ships," John says casually, not wanting to appear over-eager.

You drink again.

"Like I said, Erik sounds great on paper, he's nice, but the sex was-- less so," You finish wryly.

"Less so?" John prompts, pleased to be making progress, but this is only piquing his interest, not satisfying it.

John processes the information, annoyed now on your behalf, but checks his composure.

You hum, thinking.

"Let's just say I never saw any sparks." You give him another pointed look, before drinking again.

"You mean, never? Not once?" He asks, casual.

"Not once," you reply simply.

The brief silence however, encourages you to continue, unable to suppress the impulse overshare while under the influence.

"Ah --well, that'll do it."

He drinks.

"He always wanted me to blow him but wouldn't eat me out--" you roll your eyes, decidedly less playful now and drink "hate that, so annoying."

John clears his throat, caught off guard by your sudden bluntness, and certain illicit images they conjure.

"Did you tell him that?" He asks, matter of fact, once he's able to form words.

"I mean, I think he tried once or twice, but it was just--disappointing."

You make a face.

"No, no need to be cruel, it's not like he did me wrong or anything, just easier to tell him it wasn't going to work."

"Sounds like he was doing you wrong." The comment is out of John's mouth before he can think. He panics momentarily, hoping he hasn't been too crude.

John cracks a smile.

But instead you're actually laughing.

"Got me there."

"Maybe he's insecure, maybe he knows he's not good at giving head so that's why he doesn't like to do it." He's playing devil's advocate now. "I mean the poor bastard can't do any better if someone doesn't teach him."

John raises a brow.

You make another face.

"He's 30-something. Not 19. If he doesn't know by now," you shrug, finishing your drink, "I'm sure he'll be fine, he'll meet someone nice."

"Someone nicer than me." You add, not sure when you and the detective had gotten so close. You're practically elbow to elbow. You can smell his aftershave -- clean and inviting. You press your thighs together. Just so.

"I don't mind driving you home," he offers, "would rather make sure you get home alive."

You check your watch, sighing.

"It's getting late. I should call a cab."

You guess you can't really argue, both knowing the hundreds of horrible possibilities that can happen at any given time in this city.

He calls the bartender over for the tab, and you both straighten up.

"I can--" you start, only for John to wave you off.

"Wouldn't dream of it, one tab please," he tells the bartender mildly.

The drive home is quiet, but comfortable. You don't want to give him the wrong directions.

"Just up here on the right, that's my building."

He pulls up to the sidewalk, eyeing the building.

"I know, it's not much, but it's decent, for New York at least."

John turns off the car.

"You know I'm walking you to your door."

You could live in the Upper East Side and he would walk you to your door. Doesn't trust anyone or anywhere at this point in his career.

"Came all this way," you tease putting in the key, "might as well come in for a night cap."

There's no doorman, which he scolds you for.

You hit the keypad for entrance, take the elevator up to the 5th floor, and walk all the way down to the end of the hall.

Thinking all the while about how you're not ready for your time with the detective to be over.

This old song and dance, John thinks, regarding you. You're looking at him with something, dare he say, dangerously akin to want.

"Twist my arm why don't you," he replies easily.

You turn on a light and slip out of your blazer, tossing it lazily over the back of the couch.

John takes the opportunity to shamelessly admire the line your body while you're not paying attention.

Formal t-shirt tucked into your modest knee length pencil skirt, lingering on the curve of your ass, then down your legs to your simple, black pumps.

You make your way over to the bar cart in your so-called dining room.

Whiskey and two glasses, setting them on the table, pouring generously.

A silent toast.

"This was nice," you hum, leaning back against the table.

"Yeah, it was," he murmurs, allowing his gaze to drop to your mouth.

John smoothly downs his in one go.

He steps forward, setting his now empty glass on the table but doesn't move away.

You're not moving away or re-directing the conversation. Just standing there looking back at him through long lashes.

He closes the small distance between you, slotting his mouth over yours. You return the kiss, lips pressed for long moments to his, before separating.

You set your unfinished drink on the table, pushing it off to the side, and returning your mouth to his. An exchange of kisses that quickly grows hungry. Your hands slipping beneath his suit jacket, palming his chest, he shrugs out of the offending item, lips still half connected to yours.

Then he's lifting you effortlessly onto the table, tongue running along your lower lip when you gasp. Dizzy from the way he licks into your mouth.

"John," you breathe. He's kissing your neck now, pushing up your skirt.

"Yeah, yes," you say pulling gently at his tie, and he's kissing you senseless again, running a hand up your thigh to the edge of your panties, lingering momentarily before long fingers are stroking your folds.

He pauses.

"You good?" He asks, looking to you for reassurance. He's not sure really if his pride can handle hearing that this was just a drunken mistaken the morning after.

He groans.

You whimper in agreement.

"Sweetheart, you're so fucking wet."

Breath hot against your skin, savoring the easy way his fingers slide over you.

He withdraws, eager now to act on what he's been thinking about half the night since you brought it up. Rolling up his sleeves and taking off his glasses. Dropping to his knees. He'll probably feel this later.

He pushes apart your thighs as you look down at him in half-lidded anticipation, lifting your hips as he slides off your underwear.

Then he's licking into you like a half-starved man, because well he is, dragging the flat of his tongue against you and moaning, pleased with the high-pitched little sigh you make, needy.

"Taste good too, baby," he says looking up at you, "so fucking good, sweet little pussy."

Returns his mouth to you, easy, taking his time, you card a hand through his hair. It isn't long before you're pushing your hips against his tongue, trying to press your thighs together. Only then does he slip two long fingers into you, stroking you deep and curling them, sure you were vocal before but now you're loud.

He hums low in his throat, pleased, tonguing your clit in a gentle, steady rhythm with his fingers.

"Fuckkk, John --"

Hand tightening in his hair, one leg thrown over his shoulder.

It's been a long time since it's been this good and suddenly it's too much, you're coming apart, John's name the only thing you're capable of saying between pants and high moans, and John just keeps going, dragging the wave all the way out, feeling you spasm on his fingers, leaking on his tongue, just when he thinks you can't get any wetter. He doesn't stop until your inner thighs start to tremble and you're oversensitive, weakly stroking his hair.

He rests his head on your thigh for a moment, gazing up at you, a few strands of dark hair falling in his face, appreciating your thoroughly fucked-out appearance.

Wipes his mouth on the back of his hand before standing.

You kiss him softly before palming his pants where he's painfully hard.

He stills your hand, reluctantly, after a few moments.

"I'm not exactly in the habit of keeping protection on me sweetheart."

"Mmm, I don't care, I'm on the pill." You reply, hand going for his belt buckle.

"You can't expect me to last very long," he says looking at you with raised brows.

"I don't care, John--just wanna feel you."

He groans, giving in, not stopping you now as you make quick work of his belt and his fly, pulling out his shirt, slipping your hand into his boxers, running your hand experimentally over his long cock.

"Hey, none of that right now angel," he pants, grabbing your wrist, he finishes pulling himself out.

Then he's easing into you, biting off a moan, your arms wrapped around his neck.

"Shit, you're tight, you're so fucking tight."

"Feels so good," you sigh, taking him with minimal effort, body thoroughly relaxed after the orgasm he just gave you.

He rolls his hips slowly into yours, setting an easy rhythm, enough to keep him just on edge, but he's still lightheaded after only a few minutes, muttering apologies and half curses under his breath that you silence by placing your lips on his.

You stay together for long moments when it's over, both still buzzed but no longer from the drinks. John thinks back to the conversation at the bar though.

"So would you say that was 'more so' than 'less so' ? See any sparks?"

[callsign-rogueone]

bruised, but not broken

Sawyer Henrick x reader (peach!) words: 2.0k 🏷: pt5 for sawyer and peach, very mild iron flame spoilers, mild descriptions of injury, soft sleepy sawyer <3 (he's concussed and needs to be held, okay), second squad makes another appearance, peach has a mouth on her, peach getting distracted by his muscles, more will-they-won't-they (they will eventually, I promise), two updates in two days! that's a record for me. ok byeee

Tomorrow comes and goes with no sight of Sawyer or his friends. 

He wouldn’t have forgotten about you, especially not after all that ordeal yesterday with that piece of parchment that’s still burning a hole in your bookbag. Maybe they’re just busy training.

Yeah. Extra flight time, or something. Or they’re out in the woods again. But wouldn’t they have a healer with them, then? None of the third years are unaccounted for. Maybe the second time they send them without a healer, to make it more difficult — not that you really did anything for them when you were there, besides figure out that the two maps were different. 

You probably weren’t supposed to do that, but after passing by the same tree four times, it became abundantly clear to you that most of these city kids had never spent any time in the woods, and you just couldn’t help yourself.

You bring a hand up to hold the little flower charm between your fingers, taking a breath. He’s fine. He has to be fine. Just crack your knuckles and say a prayer, and he’ll be fine. 

The infirmary being full really isn’t helping you relax right now, either. Not when half of the patients are infantry cadets who have just returned from four days of camping in the woods, and James and his twin idiots could walk in at any time. You’ve had it up to here with one of them in particular, who has been mouthing off about how long he’s been waiting to be checked out for a tiny cut on his arm that would need one stitch, if any.

“They’ll get to you when they get to you, but keep whining like that and I will personally make sure you’re the last one to be seen today.” He starts to protest, but you cut him off. “Do I make myself clear?” you ask more firmly. He nods, looking sufficiently embarrassed. “Good. Now sit your ass down, and treat me and my classmates with some respect.”

The squad exchanges a look. “Has she always been like that?” Ridoc asks in a whisper.

“Only when I did something really stupid,” Sawyer replies, his eyes not leaving you. “I haven't seen her that mad since I pretended to drown in the river when we were sixteen.”

“That wasn’t funny then and it still isn’t now,” you chide, turning to face them. Your jaw drops at the sight of the two boys — and Rhiannon, too — all looking battered and bruised. 

“It’s worse than it looks,” Ridoc reassures, giving you a smile that stretches the purpling bruise on his left cheek.

“He means that it looks worse than it is,” Violet corrects from his side. She appears unscathed, but looks exhausted to the bone.

“Isn’t that what I said?”

You point down the hallway. “All of you, exam room, now.” The infantry cadet opens his mouth, but you silence him with your stare. “I don’t want to hear a fucking word out of you, kid.”

You exhale deeply as soon as the door is closed behind the five of you. “Sorry. It’s been a day.”

“All good,” Ridoc supplies. 

“Her first,” both of the boys say in unison, looking at Rhiannon. She doesn’t protest, sitting down in front of you and stripping off her flight jacket so you can take a proper look. 

The first thing you notice is that both of her wrists are circled with patches of raw, irritated skin. “What did they do to you, tie you up?” you ask, incredulous.

“Yeah,” she answers. “Handcuffs.”

“For what purpose?”

“Top secret rider stuff,” Ridoc answers around a yawn, and you see an identical mark on him as he lifts his hand to cover his mouth. “Torture training. But we broke ourselves out, ‘cause we’re the best.”

“Gods above,” you swear. “I don’t know how half of what they do to you guys is legal.”

“It really isn’t,” Violet answers tiredly, “but we signed up for it.”

It still doesn’t sit right with you, but you can’t do anything to change it. All you can do is keep patching them up the best you can.

“Ridoc, can you…”

“Gotcha.” He takes the small bowl from you, holding it under the tap, and the flow of water turns into several small chunks of ice.

“Thanks.”

He hums in response, taking one for himself and holding it to the split on his cheekbone.

“What’s your date of birth?” Violet asks quietly, pen in hand. She’d managed to swipe a handful of intake sheets off the counter without you noticing, and is sitting in the corner, dutifully filling them in for you. Scribe habits die hard, you suppose. Nobody will care as long as it’s your signature at the bottom certifying everything, especially when you’re so short-handed and the leadership has a dozen more important things to do than check it.

Ridoc looks deeply offended. “Ow, dude. You don’t know my birthday?” 

“April 23rd,” Sawyer answers for him, not looking up. He’s definitely got some sort of concussion — the unfocused look in his eyes and his unusually quiet, slow-blinking demeanor give it away.

“See? Somebody knows.”

“Only because you made a ginormous deal about it.”

“Excuse me for wanting to celebrate still being alive!”

The room falls silent. You’ve only heard a few things about their squadmates that had passed, but it’s obvious that they were all deeply affected by the losses.

“I didn't mean…” 

“We know,” Violet says gently, laying a hand on his arm. “It’s okay.”

There’s another moment of quiet before you pull back, assessing your work. “I think that’s about all I can do.”

“Thank you. It feels a lot better already.”

The squad sits quietly, not saying anything as you patch up Ridoc, then turn to Sawyer. “You guys can head back without me,” he says quietly. There’s a moment of hesitation from the others, but they exchange a look and silently decide it’s okay. 

“For the road,” you say, handing them each a tin of bruise salve and a small bottle of pain tonic — and some more stretchy bandages for Violet. “Get some rest if you can.”

They take their leave quietly, thanking you, and shut the door behind them, leaving just you, Sawyer, half a bowl of ice, and the pile of neatly written paperwork. He slowly gets up, moving to sit on the edge of the table — almost at eye level with you now. “Hi,” you say softly.

“Hi.” He’s struggling to keep his eyes open, blinking at you slowly.

You cradle his jaw in one hand, tilting his head up so you can look at his pupils — they’re equal and reactive, with no signs of permanent damage. The few days worth of stubble covering his jaw tickles your palm as he leans into your touch, closing his eyes. “M’ sorry for bailing on you,” he murmurs. “I really was going to come get you, I promise.”

“I know, sweet boy,” you soothe. “Don’t worry about it.”

He reaches out, pulling you closer and resting his head over your heart — and whining like a sad puppy when you don’t return the hug.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” you say gently. 

“I’ll be fine,” he mumbles. “C’mere.”

You wrap your arms around him loosely, resting a hand on his back and stroking up and down gently while you work the other into the hair at the back of his neck, gently massaging away some of the tension. He hums in contentment, settling against you and closing his eyes.

You’ve only seen him like this once, this clingy and sleepy, when he’d caught the world’s worst cold during harvest season and you were tasked with taking care of him while everyone else was out working. Of course you’d gotten the same cold from him, and then the roles were reversed. He would actually have made a decent healer. If only he were safe here with you all the time instead of risking his life every day doing gods-know-what in the name of preparing for war. 

“I worry about you, y’know. All of you,” you admit. 

“Don’t. We managed to escape a literal dungeon together.”

“I wish you hadn’t been there in the first place.”

“I know,” he says quietly. “Me too.”

You feel your stress slowly start to drain away, replaced with the reassuring steadiness of his breathing and the soft tick of the clock. You can finally stop worrying about his name being on the death roll tomorrow.

He pulls back, looking up at you. “Can you check if one of my ribs is broken?”

Your eyes widen. “You really just let me — asked me to hug you, when you thought you had a broken rib?” He winces at your volume, and you apologize immediately. “Sorry, sorry. Take your jacket off?”

He complies, setting it on the table, then tugs his shirt over his head, and your jaw drops — both at the yellow-purple bruises across his chest and ribs, and the definition there. He’s always been lean, but the last year has really toned him. All the muscles you had to memorize the names of are on clear display. You pick them out one by one as your eyes rake over the exposed skin.

“Is it that bad?” he asks after a moment.

Busted. “No,” you stammer. “It’s not the worst I’ve seen. Can I…?”

“Go ahead.”

You lay your palm against his side, feeling for an obvious point of discomfort. His skin is warm to the touch, and the muscle has just the right amount of give to it. He’d be nice to cuddle with, among other things.

He inhales sharply, distracting you from your thoughts. “There?” you ask, prodding gently. “I think it’s just bruised. There’s no swelling or evidence of displacement.”

“Ah. And the other side?” he asks hoarsely, his cheeks flushed pink.

There’s no bruises or cuts on his other side, but you humor him anyway, moving your hand down his ribs. Five… six, seven, eight… nine, ten… “Turn a bit?” you prompt. 

You’re very grateful that he can’t see your face right now. You’d admired his chest, but his back… the expanse of his shoulders and the relic stretched across them, the thick lines of muscle there… Focus. Stop being a creep. He’s injured, for Amari's sake.

You smooth your hand over his side, finding the floating ribs… there. Eleven, twelve. “Nothing broken,” you manage. “Anything else to report?”

He shakes his head no. “Just sore.” He pulls his shirt back on, and it takes you every ounce of self control not to look disappointed as his skin is covered in the tattered black fabric. He looks you over like he’s assessing you for injury. “How are you doing? Any creepiness I missed out on when I was chained up?”

You wince at the mental image, but shake your head no. “I haven’t seen him in a few days. Are you going to be okay to get back on your own?”

“I thought I told you to stop worrying about me.”

“You did,” you answer. “But I’m not going to stop.”

He sighs. “You’ve always been stubborn like that.”

“I should probably get back out there, but if you want to lay down for a while, I can keep the door locked.”

He shakes his head, standing. “I’m gonna go shower, n’ probably sleep for the rest of the day.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

Why are goodbyes with him always so awkward? You never know what to do, where you stand. You definitely aren’t in kiss territory. Maybe a cheek kiss, but that’s pushing it. You’ve settled for long hugs a few times, never knowing if it would be the last one you ever get.

“Thank you,” he says quietly. “For patching me up.”

“Always,” you answer softly, looking up at him. “I’ll always be here for you. Just keep coming back to me, okay?”

“Always.”

[st4rgirllv]

RAHHH SORRY QUEEN I JUST SAW IT. hii :3 for the scenario it's like maybe kanto mikey. and he parties a lot, he saw reader once and started non stop pestering them and after a while they gave in and they started seeing each other.

ᯓ★ I LOVE IT OMG I JUST HOPE I MEET YOUR EXPECTATIONS ANYWAYYY You ask and you shall receive<3

Can't Shake Me, Ever

Pairing: Frat boy Mikey x Reader College / Frat AU — Kanto Mikey cw: Swearing, frat culture antics, Mikey being a menace, Flirty Banter, Tension, Reluctant Romance

You meet Sano Manjiro at a party you never wanted to be at.

He’s drunk off his ass, shirt halfway unbuttoned, platinum hair sticking to his forehead, yelling “CHUG IT, YOU COWARD” across the backyard as someone projectile vomits into a bush.

It’s disgusting. He’s disgusting.

You turn back toward the cooler to fish out a soda and pray no one tries to initiate a game of beer pong within splash radius.

“Hey,” a voice says behind you, cocky and too close. “You look like you’re having the worst time of your life.”

You glance up and there he is.

Golden boy of Kanto frat. Dripping in alcohol, attitude, and the kind of charm that only works on people too drunk to know better. You stare at him for half a second. “Is that a pickup line or an insult?”

“Why not both?”

You roll your eyes and brush past him. “Try that on someone who’s actually impressed.”

He follows. Of course he does.

The thing is, Mikey should have let you go. He usually does

If someone plays hard to get, he shrugs and moves on. There’s always another girl. Another party. Another blurry night where no one says no to him.

But you?

You say no a lot.

“No, Manjiro, I’m not giving you my number.” “No, Manjiro, I don’t want to sit on your stupid motorcycle.” “No, Manjiro, I’m not impressed you can shotgun a beer in four seconds.”

And every time you say no, he just smiles wider.

"No, Manjiro, for the nth time I do not wanna go out with you!" you whispered loudly in the damn cafe he followed you in. "That is not the ninth time you're saying no." he leaned back on his chair. You huffed, "I said nth not ninth there's a difference, look it up." you quickly packed your bag and walked out.

Like you’ve handed him a brand new game he has to win.

The first week, he DM’s you 37 times on Instagram.

The second week, he memorizes your class schedule and starts “accidentally” showing up outside your lecture halls.

The third week, he bribes the barista at your favorite café to write his number on your cup.

You take a picture of it and send it to him with one word,

Blocked.

He replies from his burner account

“So dramatic. Meet me for coffee?”

You don’t answer.

He sends another

“Ok fine what if we just made out a little?”

"Ugh," you were this close to throwing your phone.

You cave on a Thursday.

You’re stressed. Your roommate bailed on your plans. It’s been a long week and you just want one brainless distraction.

So when Mikey texts,

“Bonfire. 9pm. No pressure. Bring that attitude I love.”

…you go.

You wear at least a decent shirt, jeans, and no makeup—just to remind him you’re not here to impress him.

When you show up, he’s already looking for you.

Beer in hand, arms stretched over the back of a lawn chair, grin slow and smug as hell.

“You showed,” he says, like he expected nothing less. “I’m not here for you,” you reply, grabbing a marshmallow stick. He watches you walk past him and mutters, “You will be.”

That night, it’s like something shifts.

You roast marshmallows. He steals one. You glare. "Hey, that was mine." "Is it?" he furrowed his eyebrows then ate the marshmallow in one go, hot. He ended up spitting the marshmallow and burning his mouth while you silently chuckled.

He offers you his hoodie when it gets cold, and when you say no, he throws it at you anyway.

Someone puts music on. You don’t dance, but he doesn’t either. He just sits next to you on the log and leans in a little too close every time he talks.

“So what’s your deal?” he asks eventually. “What do you mean?” “You act like you hate me.” “Maybe I do," you smile at him sarcastically He grins, teeth sharp in the firelight. “Then why’d you come?”

You don’t answer. But he already knows.

After that, it’s different.

You’re not dating. You’re not not dating either.

He starts calling you babe just to piss you off. "Oh, c'mon babe!" "Don't call me that, jiro!" you shouted across campus. "You know I like when you call me that!"

You start stealing his hoodies when you’re cold, pretending it’s not a big deal and he stares at you like it is. Your excuse would be, 'It's winter and I forgot to bring a jacket,' and 'your hoodie's really warm.'

He kisses your cheek when he leaves by your side and you threaten to stab him. "d'you want coffee?" he asks "would that send you away?" you drop your pen looking at him like you're begging him to go away—you are. "sure." he shruggs. "fine, I want coffee," you go back to writing an asignment. "yes, ma'am," he jumped off the table then abruptly pecked a kiss on your cheek, so you froze—heat going up your face.

You’re not sure what’s happening.

But you haven’t told him to stop yet.

Then one night, you get drunk.

Like, sincerely drunk.

Your friends ditch you at a party. You end up alone in the front yard, shivering in the cold with your phone at 2% and no idea how to get home.

You don’t even think.

You just type,

“come get me”

And before you can regret it, he replies,

“Already on my way.”

He pulls up in someone else’s car—shirtless, barefoot, smelling like tequila and vanilla vape—and carries you to the passenger seat like it’s the most normal thing in the world.

"d'you steal carsh now.." your head laid on the headress of the passenger seat. "no, it's a friend's. I figured you'd be drunk enough to text me so there was no way I was gonns let you ride my motorcycle," mikey chuckled like it was the most normal thing in the world. "oh, mikey...what're you doing to me."

You cry a little. Not because of him. Just… because it’s a lot.

He doesn’t say anything about it.

Just lets you sit in his hoodie and hands you water and tells you, “I got you, okay?”

You fall asleep on his shoulder.

You wake up the next morning in his bed, fully clothed, with Advil and a water bottle on the nightstand. "fuck."

He’s on the couch.

You find him half-asleep, hair messy, a cartoon playing at low volume.

He blinks at you. “Morning, menace.” You blink back. “…You didn’t try anything?” you raised a brow, crossing your arms. He snorts. “Wow. Confidence boost of the year.” You sit down next to him—arms still crossed, one leg bouncing, He pauses, then glances over. “You hungry?” You nod.

He grins. “Pancakes or instant noodles?”

“…both.”

He stands, stretches, walks to the kitchen.

“Thought so.”

ᯓ★ Oh, please say you liked it! anyway. | Masterlist

[oneknightstand-if]

One Knight Stand - King Arthur x Among Us Apocalyptic Road Trip (Interactive Fiction)

It's the end of the world... and you don't feel fine.

It's just another humdrum day as the weekend winds to its inevitable end. All is as expected. The pandemic has stretched on for a decade now. A new serial killer stalks the streets. And your completely normal club is waiting. Just another ordinary day.

Just ignore the sounds in your living room. Just ignore that shadow scuttling across the floor. Just ignore the lies of the 'friend' who's known you for years. He's lying. She's lying. That stranger on the street is lying. And the voices whispering in your mind are definitely lying.

Everyone is lying... especially the traitor who's infiltrated the group.

But that's fine...

Y̥͑̅̌̔̉ͯo̼̩̖̓ͪ̽͢ǔ̢͢͏̫͕͋'͎̬́͐ͥ᷇͢r̉͏͍̾᷉̓̓e͓͕ͦ̿᷅͆͠ l̜̻̈̅̃͢͞y̡̬͙̪̦̦ͧi̘᷅̓͒̐̍͑n̰͈᷅ͯͥͨ͜g̯᷾̒̑᷄̕͟ t̶̙͍̏͊᷈͠o̙̟ͦ̏̄ͭ͂o̥̮͆ͤ͐͝͠.̛͚̎᷇̍̕͜

Play the Beta Test

Update 5 : (10/25/24) Chapter 2 Part 3 (The Forest & the Warehouse)

Update 4 : (7/4/24) Chapter 2 Part 2   (Perfectly Normal Rest Stop)    Further Details Here

Update 3 : (2/2/24) Bug Fixes Galore!    Further Details Here

Update 2 : (1/16/24) Chapter 1 Part 3 (Fencing Club Route) Further Details Here

Update 1 : (11/16/23) Chapter 2 Part 1 (Camelot Dream Sequence) Further Details Here

**Sound Effect Alert: Turn Down Your Volume At Start of Game**

• Total Word Count: 900,000+ • Including Code: 1,227,000+ • Average Playthrough: ~70,000+ words • Average  if you play 'ask Adrian and Merlin five million questions around the city' and text message everyone:  Considerably longer

LINKS: Patreon | Choice of Games Feedback Thread

You're a Harbinger of the Apocalypse... or so it's been claimed. The destined reincarnation of a legendary hero from the time of Camelot. For the sake of the world, reclaim your past memories & powers and discover the true identities of yourself and your current companions.

For the sake of your survival, make certain that you're a member of the successful Greater Circle... because in the end, only thirteen are needed and it doesn't have to include you. The two previous Circles have failed and all their members paid the price for it...

...but third time's the charm, ̷r̸i̷g̵h̴t̶?

Everyone is lying. That most certainly includes you. And one is an enemy infiltrator who's entire purpose is to (murderously) sabotage this last and final circle. Who will you trust and who will you trick? The fate of both you and the world hangs in the balance.

Genres: Dark Urban Fantasy (with mystery/thriller/horror elements). The Camelot flashback sections are more High Fantasy.

Blog Tags:

Main: One Knight Stand, oneknightstand

General: oks-info, oks-update, oks-preview, oks-promo, oks-asks, oks-replies, oks-psa, oks-fanstuff, oks-logistics, oks-submission, oks-poll, oks-milestone

ROs: oks-ROs, oks-Merlin, oks-Adrian, oks-Percy, oks-Arthur, oks-Vivian, oks-Cassandra, oks-Gwen, oks-Lorelei, oks-Broderick, oks-404

Camelot: oks-Bedivere, oks-Dagonet, oks-Dindrane, oks-Dinadan, oks-Elaine, oks-Galahad, oks-Gawain, oks-Guinevere, oks-Kay, oks-Lamorak, oks-Lancelot, oks-Mordred, oks-Morgana, oks-Percival, oks-Excalibur

Others: oks-MC, oks-Camelot-MC, oks-Abe, oks-Asher, oks-Caleb, oks-Pestilence, oks-Saboteur

Play Among Us/Werewolf/Mafia/The Thing/The Mole/Danganronpa/Town of Salem/etc Arthurian lore style! (Also don't forget the apocalypse, that's kind of important)

Lovingly craft your character in intimate detail or slap down that [Randomly Generate Your Appearance] button like I do.

Choose your sad childhood background and your potentially even sadder (or more traumatic or more traumatically evil) deep, dark secret which must be hidden at all cost

Play one million questions around the city with not-so-random people or go "Screw this lore dump, I'm taking a nap!"

ᕕ(✿ ᐛ )ᕗ <- Merlin on their way to a six hour lecture because you had to ask every single question in their dialogue tree. I mean, there's an Achievement for doing that, so you do you.

Spend the entire time during this IF about Arthurian lore going "Who is Arthur and what's a Camels-a-lot?" (Yes, this a legit strategy to get through the game)

Figure out your previous Camelot reincarnation from amongst four different potential backgrounds (determined by your actions in the Camelot flashback sections). Or go "Nuts to this mystery!" and just wait to get your magic powers already. (Uh, you probably should still try and figure out who's trying to kill you, though)

Act like a saint, act like a psychopath, or randomly burst into song & dance like you're trapped in a Disney musical at the most inappropriate moments.

Survive the night... or die horribly and collect the Dead Ends like pokemon who give clues to what's happening in the greater narrative. (You won't be the only one... dying, that is)

Get randomly turned into a water fowl (I mean, it's Merlin, after all)

Look out that window... you know you want to.

Features creepy sound effects (which you can turn off from the main menu)

(Yes, this is basically Red Flag the Romance. Yes, there are ROs who can have a perfectly healthy relationship with you... and there are also ones who'll just kill you. Good luck figuring out who is who. Also platonic buddy versions are a go. Physical descriptions here. And heights here.)

MERLIN (M/F/NB) The nominal leader of  this motley crew and the only one who knows what's truly going on... or so they claim.

A shape shifting incubus who takes on the most appealing form of whoever is viewing them. Always elegant, always smiling, always for the greater good... a beautiful facade that hides a heart that's entirely inhuman.

Unlike the others, they will never directly lie to you... lies of omission don't count, right?

"Dear child, that's for me to know and for you to find out, as they are wont to say. Shall we try again?"

ADRIAN BENONI (M) A close friend, an unrequited crush, a passing acquaintance, a suspected stalker... the tone of your relationship may change, but what does not is that you've known this guy for years. A  familiar presence within a world that's suddenly become ever-so-strange.

But what darkness hides behind the ever amiable front that he always presents around you? Well...maybe not always. Why does he seem so desperate to like you even while keeping you an arm's length away?

"I'm sure that if we all just came together in solidarity that we— h-hey you don't have to laugh *that* hard about it!"

PERCY T. LONGSPEAR (M) Someone who marches to the sound of his own drum... on a different planet somewhere in a galaxy far, far away.

Most assuredly the most strangely perceptive of the group, if only anyone could understand exactly what he's saying. A potential soulmate to a very certain version of the MC.

Who his past reincarnation seems to be is so blatantly obvious that it's the very height of suspicion.

"Why did I come in through the vents? Why would I use a *door*?"

CASSANDRA DE VAUX (F) A detective who intercepted the group during an investigation of... well, it's not exactly complete chaos that you're leaving in your wake, is it?

No-nonsense when on the job, but playful during down times, she joined with little convincing or fanfare... but has she truly allied with the cause or is this just another sting operation to her?

And why does she seem so much more... wait what were we talking about again?

"Scintillating. Now please explain again from the top... you were doing *what* in the museum that night?"

GWYNETH REYNARD (F) A vivacious and sweetly cheerful member of the group that pulls off true optimism far better than certain other members... even if she wears that sunny disposition like a suit of armor.

You found her wandering in an abandoned nineteenth-century mental asylum. A perfectly normal place to meet. (After all, you were there too!) And certainly there's a completely sensible explanation for why she doesn't want to head back home as well.

"Oh, are we making claims on who we want to be now? Then I want to be Buttercup from the Princess Bride!"

LORELEI GUERRIER (F) An Olympic archer who is as unflappable as she is coolly distant. She has the rather laudable capability of beating down a lesser hellhound with nothing but a mop for a weapon.

Certainly her joining would be nothing but a boon to the group. Too bad she possesses nothing but cynicism and antipathy for the idea of chivalry and knights in shining armor.

But surely she's a champion of Camelot, right?

"The virtue of a knight? Someone that parades around in self indulgence, all for the glory of their own pride, while better people are left wanting. That's the true face of your so-called *chivalry*."

BRODERICK DOE (M) A grumpy, recalcitrant, and somewhat foulmouthed addition to the group. He really, really doesn't want to be here. He thinks you're all insane. (He may be right in certain instances.)

But someone has to keep an eye out during all this craziness, right?Especially if there's a kernel of truth to this apocalyptic nonsense.

Of course, there's no one in this city, this state, this country registered as 'Broderick Doe'.

"And let me be clear here... I don't trust a single one of you chucklefucks!"

̶̇̊͒̋͜4̸̼̕͜0̸͖̭̎͝4̴̹͈̍ ̸̯̱̦͓͑̑Ȩ̵̧̺̩̉̈́ŗ̸̔̄͊̍r̷̙̾̓̇o̷̧̩̻͇̽̊͗̋r̵̮̘̒̓ ̴̧̳̺͐̆̾̅N̵͕͐o̶̘͍͗t̴̫͋́̆̋ ̵͔͒͑͐F̵̹̍̈́̿ó̵̡̹͒͆ũ̴͈̠͘n̶̢̺̰̬̋ḑ̶̲͛̔͗̕ (???)

T̶O̵O̶ ̴L̷A̸T̸E̷ ̵T̴O̸O̵ ̷L̸A̵T̴E̶ ̴T̸O̶O̶ ̵L̴A̵T̸E̶ ̴T̸O̴O̷ ̶L̴A̴T̵E̶ ̴T̴O̷O̷ ̴L̶A̶T̴E̶ ̴T̸O̵O̶ ̶L̶A̸T̷E̴ ̵

CAMELOT ROMANCE OPTIONS (Currently sealed away, so you can only interact with them in dreams and flashbacks)

ARTHUR PENDRAGON (M) The Once and Future King, the doomed High King of Camelot who is fated to return at humanity's greatest moment of need and lead them in survival during the end times.

The ideal that always had a surprising streak of pragmatism to it. If only he would wake up. He's so very, very late you see. And things have spiraled wildly out of control in his absence.

A figure that's currently haunting your dreams.

"You think I missed my calling as a troubadour? Mayhaps... for what is politics but a form of mummery?"

VIVIAN (F) The third and current Lady of the Lake. One of the fae who is aligned with your side through blood oaths and promises as strong as compulsion.

One of the ones who sealed Merlin away and who remains bound at the very edge of the Veil even now. The tales never mentioned the part where she's a mari-morgan that drowns people, did they?

"Hear this song... come along... just drift a little closer, pretty thing of mine. Simply a step closer... merely a bit *deeper*."

Link to FAQ

[chaoticallykinkygrem]

DILF James let’s go. That man has a full head of hair til the day he dies (when he’s like 100 bc I know what your thinking and we’re not going there rn). He gets smile lines really early and he loves them. He is very well off financially and loves spoiling the ppl he loves. He drinks smoothies for breakfast and works out even when most people his age are complaining about their knees and backs. He is either in a tee shirt and sweatpants or a full suit, there’s no in between. Ugh he’s so fine.

Yeah ok this is the motivation I needed 🫡

Thanks @rablovergirl for helping me with this one!! I owe all my smut inspiration to you ❤️

Jegulus NSFW | Minor degradation/humiliation kink and Major daddy kink

James knew he was handsome. He’s known since he was a teenager and had everyone in his classes swooning if he so much as looked at them. Now, though, he sees the way the moms look at him as he drops off harry. He notices all the stares during his jogs or trips to the gym. He would be blinder than he already is to not pick up on the constant flirting from some of his clients.

And yet he still didn’t see regulus staring at him like a five course meal. Maybe it was because he was to busy staring himself or maybe he just needed to get his glasses changed. He notices now though. He can’t help but pay attention to every little thing regulus does. Not since those nights a few weeks ago.

Neither of them have discussed it. They parted ways on that third morning and never spoke about everything that had happened that weekend. Regulus still flirted with James, but it was to the same extent he did all of Sirius friends. He even treated Remus the same way.

So now here James was, weeks after the best two days of his life, neglected and forgotten by the one person he craves attention from. He continued to mope, slowly sipping his whiskey, while watching regulus chat up yet another man at the bar twenty feet away. He watched as regulus leaned into the mystery man and laughed at something he said, even going so far as to put a hand on his arm. He knew he should be paying attention to what Sirius and Remus were talking about and yet he couldn’t bring himself to. Not when a siren of a man was so fucking close he could almost taste him.

The next time James tunes back in, Sirius and Remus seemed to have walked away to go and talk to some other friends, leaving James to brood in his corner, at least until a woman approached him. She looked to be around his age, on the shorter side, and curvy beyond all belief. She had black hair and light blue eyes— almost like someone else he couldn’t seem to now think about. But James subtly shook his head, as if to shake away regulus, and focused on the woman before him.

“Hi I’m Leona. What’s your name handsome?” She bit her lip as she looked James up in down with eyes that scream predator.

“James. It’s nice to meet you Leona. What are you doing here all by yourself?” James asks suavely, falling back into the ease of casual flirting that has helped him throughout the years.

James lets himself go in the conversation with her. He finds Leona to be a charming and intelligent person and that conversation with her is easy. Just as they laugh from a joke James told, he feels a hand touch his bicep.

“Who’s this James?” James looks away from Leona and finds regulus standing next to him, with murder in his eyes.

“Oh this is Leona. Leona, this is regulus. He’s my best friend’s little brother.” He looks between the two and notices a shift in the air with his last sentence.

“I’m now just Sirius’ little brother? That isn’t what you thought of me a few weeks ago.” Regulus snaps, glaring at James with a look that should have killed him.

“Uhh I should go now. My friends are probably worried. It was nice meeting you both!” Leona says quickly before rushing away, though neither of the men are paying her any attention at this point.

“Can we talk somewhere private?” James grits out between his teeth. Regulus can barely start his argument before James pulls him towards the bars bathroom, locking the door behind them.

“What the fuck was that regulus?” James growls, finally getting to anger in his seven stages of grief.

“What do you mean ‘what the fuck was that?’” Regulus mocks him before continuing, “Why were you talking to some random lady? Actually no better yet why were you flirting with her?” Regulus pulls away from James and goes to lean against the wall farthest from him.

“Why was I flirting with her? At least I picked someone and didn’t try to fuck everyone at the bar. If you needed to be fucked so desperately, you could have just asked.” James scoffs, glaring at regulus.

“How should I have asked then? Hmm James?” Regulus walks towards him, slowly, like a predator about to pounce. “Should I have just texted you? Maybe I should have gotten on my knees? Begged for your big cock to fuck me stupid.” He pushes James back against the sink, leaning in to whisper in his ear “Would that have worked? Would you have fucked me again daddy?”

James groans deep in his chest while turning them, picking regulus up and setting him on the counter while stepping between his thighs.

“You act like I didn’t fuck you good enough last time. Are you that slutty baby? Do you need a dick always in you? Fucking you nice and hard. Putting you in your place.” He growls into Regulus’ ear before pulling his head back by his hair, exposing his pale neck.

“Need me to show you who you belong to again?” He watches as regulus’ eyes glass over and desperation truly starts to fill them. Regulus can barely whine out a yes before James pulls his pants down, staring in astonishment at his lack of underwear.

“Were you planning on getting fucked tonight baby? Or are you always this slutty?” He drops to his knees, now face to face with regulus’ dripping cunt. Pulling regulus closer to the ledge, he dives in, not giving regulus any space to argue.

James licked, sucked, nibbled, and fingered his way to two of regulus’ orgasms. He didn’t stop until regulus’ thighs were shaking and was trying to push him away.

“You ready for me to fuck you baby?” James said as he stood, slick glistening his lower face. Regulus nodded eagerly, fumbling with James belt while begging, “Please fuck me. I’ll be so good. Just need you in me.”

James grins, thoroughly enjoying Reg’s desperation, before picking him up again and turning him over, so regulus is now bent over the counter.

“Present your pretty cunt for me. Show me how much you want to be fucked.” He says while stepping back to move his pants and boxers down. Regulus quickly gets to work, arching his back and using his hands to spread himself for James’ viewing. James groans at the sight before him, looking at regulus through the mirror and seeing how ruined he already is.

“Keep your eyes on me baby ok? If you close them or look away, I’m stopping.” He slowly eases his cock into regulus, groaning at how wet and hot and tight he is.

“Y-yes daddy” Regulus practically purrs while pushing himself back onto James faster. James stops him though by grabbing his hips. He gives regulus a sharp warning look before finally starting to fuck him like he’s been craving for weeks. He watches regulus the entire time— watches as he tries to hide his moans again but fails quickly, watches as he scrambles to hold onto the edge of the counter and the way his eyes roll back in pleasure. James stops suddenly at that and spanks him harshly.

“What did I say love? Eyes on me. You need to know who’s filling you up this good and who’s gonna fuck you full soon.” Regulus nods weakly, already too fucked out to do much besides beg and moan. James finds his pace again and moves one of his hands to start rubbing at regulus’ clit. Before long, regulus is crying out about how badly he needs to cum and how good he’ll be for his daddy.

“You’ll cum when I cum” James growls out, loosing the careful rhythm he set and bending in closer to bite at regulus’ neck and shoulders. He can feel that heat inside himself already, knows he’s close, so James keeps going until he can’t anymore, thrusting a few last times before going as deep as he can. Regulus immediately shatters as well, having been holding back for a few minutes now. They collapse onto each other, not bothering to move or pull out.

“Will you stop avoiding me now?” James whispers into his ear. Regulus can only manage a small nod and weak groan as James pulls out of him, leaving him to drip cum down his thighs.

“Let me clean you up and then I’ll take you home.” He says it all gently, afraid regulus will get spooked again and run away. Instead, though, regulus lets himself get wiped up. He lets James help him put his clothes back on and doesn’t say anything as James leaves a trail of kisses in his wake.

This took me days. I hope it’s good and that you all enjoyed my first real small attempt at a smut fic.