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#the chosen headers
yeshuaedits · 8 months
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THE CHOSEN SEASON 1 HEADERS (Part 3/3)
please, like or reblog if you use/save.
psd coloring by @miniepsds ♡
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apoptoses · 2 months
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the way i would pay someone to title this fic rn
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roadtwt · 6 months
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nostalgia-tblr · 4 months
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starting to consider having some sort of pinned post on my tumblr dot com blog so that anyone new to me can see at a glance which things i am wrong about and then they can be spared the effort of having to unfollow me in half an hour when i post something new and wrong.
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artphantom · 1 year
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got inspired by the nonbiney swag competition :D (although only chosen is competing lol)
had a lot of fun making this & experimenting but it was very hard to stop messing with the bg... kept making the grey more smokey and less smokey and etc.
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regallibellbright · 2 years
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Given I, you know, left the site for several years (for reasons entirely unrelated to the porn ban, which I predated, and entirely to do with my own personal issues,) lurked a few specific blogs for years without logging back in and then reset my now decade-old and five-years abandoned blog and came back about five months ago, I’m not judging anyone who left for Twitter and is back now. I have no room to talk!
But I REALLY hope the transphobia and aro/acephobia do not make a bigger resurgence, because GOD no.
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chibiloona · 1 year
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✰ dia - karma layouts !! ◞
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Lesbians 👌
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doux-amer · 8 months
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Choked back tears in the last few minutes because of and for Lucho and then when the match ended, players came up to him, he showed his shirt again, and Klopp came to give him a warm, comforting, proud hug. God. You try not crying then.
So happy he of all people got the tying goal in extra time. "Para papa" was enough to make me crumble and "libertad para papa." What he's going through right now is unfathomable. Please let them find his dad safe and sound.
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bobeche · 9 months
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ignore how scuffed my layout is rn LOL
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shegetsburned · 14 days
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❝ the prince’s jewel ❞ w. ryomen sukuna 𝜗𝜚.
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BRIDGERTON AU⌇
• — dear gentle reader. this author feels not all is fit to print when so much is already known by far too many members of the ton when it comes to the mighty prince sukuna. though delighted by the frenzy of competition, this author believes that the prince will not participate in any courting exchange, despite his great desire to sire an heir or perhaps his desire to be known as the ton’s number one rake.
.nsfw.
₊˚ପ⊹ prince!sukuna who’s known throughout the whole kingdom to be a ruthless but laid-back ruler, having little to no interest in his subjects. barely governing as it is, he prefers to enjoy the wealth that his title has given him without an ounce of empathy for his poor subordinates. boredom has brought him to london where he believes to find at least some sort of entertainment to pass his time.
₊˚ପ⊹ prince!sukuna who has no shame showing himself at the entrances of brothels and shady bars with ladies wrapped around his arms. never denying any of his endeavours and laughing in the face of scandals. when his name makes the header of the society’s paper, his grin grows the more larger.
₊˚ପ⊹ prince!sukuna who believes that, if he is to be married, his highness deserves none other than the diamond of the season, chosen by the queen for her beauty, elegance, purity and grace; you.
he has absolutely everything to envy; perfect musculature, charm, alluring beauty, enormous wealth and bewitching gaze which, without a doubt, attracts most ladies on display. he has many choices and doesn’t want to settle for any pathetic young girl that would throw herself at his feet. the diamond has to be his.
₊˚ପ⊹ prince!sukuna who, as soon as he laid eyes on you, never hid his desire to rip your pretty dress apart with his perverted gaze. as you gracefully walked before the queen, his eyes travelled from your lips, trailing down to your appetizing curves moulded by your tight corset. the gown you wore had every man in the room breaking their neck to catch a glimpse of the diamond.
₊˚ପ⊹ prince!sukuna who has learned about the custom of a man calling upon a lady and visiting her at her home, which he is way too indifferent to do. instead, sukuna sends you tons of enormous bouquets. gorgeous flowers that mostly scare off callers from their beauty and expansiveness. he might refuse to visit, but his gifts are enough for you to consider his proposal rather quickly.
₊˚ପ⊹ prince!sukuna who couldn’t care less about etiquettes or manners. you danced with another man? he’d immediately interrupt the two of you, groping your gown and pulling you closer with a nasty smirk. another suitor’s writing his name on your dance card? prince sukuna stares him down, tearing the piece of paper and pulling the string around your wrist to whisper in your ears insanities none would dare hear in a ballroom.
₊˚ପ⊹ prince!sukuna whose favourite past time is to lead you in the pleasure garden, making sure every suitor, every mama and every lady of the ton has seen you walk beside the prince to the dark walk. he’s always determined to take it a step further. wether it’s with a curious hand on your ass, with his teeth around your earlobe or with his lips tasting your neck, his addiction is the more clearer.
₊˚ପ⊹ prince!sukuna who has shown everyone that none other than him should court you and you let him. you let him have a hold on you and on your chances of ever securing a proposal with another suitor. most indeed believe prince sukuna has already stolen your honor even though, despite his most inappropriate gestures, hasn’t declared you his just yet. torturing you with sneaky glances and provocating promises became rather quickly the talk of the ton which suited him entirely.
₊˚ପ⊹ prince!sukuna who, after several weeks, finally called on you. you’re more than surprised when he bribes your chaperone to let you two talk in private. without lying to himself or to you, he explains the reasons for his visit. truth is, the prince’s tired of waiting and he wants to consume your innocence while he still can.
₊˚ପ⊹ prince!sukuna who has you riding his entire length in your bed chamber. innocent puffy lips whining and moaning out his name. tits bouncing frenetically while his claws spreads your ass, leaving an odious mark. an inexperienced debutante like you, euphorically drunk on his dick, had the prince sukuna going for hours. hickies and teeth marks covered your chaste figure, officially claiming you as his. his hands explored every inch of your skin, planting his nails into the fat of your ass every time you bounced on him to lead you further down so you felt him deeper.
₊˚ପ⊹ prince!sukuna who, after an intense session of fucking and taking your innocence away, doesn’t bother helping you clean up, enjoying the sight of your messed up hair and teared-up dress. he leaves you exhausted in your wet sheets, with the promise of stealing you away to his kingdom the next time you would see him. the only thing he left behind is a lecherous diamond eager for her prince to come back and take much more than just her innocence.
© shegetsburned 2024 please do not repost/edit/or claim my writing as your own
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yeshuaedits · 1 year
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THE CHOSEN HEADERS
Please, like or reblog.
Por favor, dê like ou reblog.
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againagainagai · 2 years
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You know. I haven't changed the number in my bio since day one. I have always been chosen one #10,284,710,875,291 and I will ALWAYS be chosen one #10,284,710,875,291
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emjayewrites · 1 month
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The First Monday in May | LH44
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SUMMARY: Lewis Hamilton and his girlfriend have too much fun at the Met Gala.
PAIRINGS: Sir Lewis Hamilton x Black Fem! Reader
WARNINGS: MINORS DNI/18+
TAGLIST: @cocobutterqwueen @httpsserene @mauvecherie-writes @galatially @pausmoon @a-moment-captured @yeea-nah @melodichaeuxx-lacritquexx @weetjy @lewisroscoelove @hxneyclouds @questionable-behaviour @lovebittenbyevans @tian-monique @alika-4466 @saintslewis @cherry2stems @planetmimi @woderfulkawaii @d3kstar @trinitoldyouso @scorpiobleue @certifiedlesbianbaddie @blveeeeeee @sugardontbesweet @omgsuperstarg @bluesole16 @serpenttines-library @peyiswriting @jasmindaughteroftheworld @motheroffae @hrlzy @xoscar03 @xsweetdellzx
A/N: I had to! Lewis was looking too good! The hold he has on me is crazy!! Please comment and reblog!! The headers/dividers are by @inklore
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The luxurious suite at The Mark Hotel was a whirlwind of activity as you and Lewis prepared for fashion's biggest night - the Met Gala. Seated at the vanity, you watched in the mirror's reflection as your makeup artist meticulously applied the finishing touches to your glamorous look, but despite her artistry, you found your gaze continuously drifting, utterly entranced by the vision that was your boyfriend. He was an absolute vision as he prepared for fashion's biggest night.
Instead of the typical tuxedo, Lewis had chosen an exquisite all-black ensemble from Burberry to pay homage to the Welsh gardener John Ystumllyn. The intricate floral embroidery that adorned the long overcoat was a true work of art, a delicate stitching of daffodil motifs.
Watching as Lewis moved with that athletic grace of his, you felt a familiar heat unfurling low in your belly. Even three deliriously blissful months into this relationship, the man still managed to render you utterly breathless with desire.
"Easy there, gorgeous," your makeup artist chuckled, having caught your hooded gaze locked on Lewis. "We've still got some work to do before you can jump his bones."
You didn't even attempt to hide your shameless ogling as Lewis's own makeup artist leaned in to meticulously groom and sculpt his already perfect brows. The man's cheekbones could slice diamonds, you were certain.
"I can't help it," you murmured, shamelessly drinking in every sinewy line and angle of his body beneath the tailored lines of the all-black ensemble. "He's too much."
As if sensing your rapt regard, Lewis turned to catch your eye in the mirror. His full and bitable lips - a true pout that would make any sane woman melt - curved into a wolfish grin that did absolutely indecent things to your insides. The man was a walking orgasm without even seeming to try.
"See something you like over there, baby?" His tone was pure liquid sex, that deep baritone seeming to caress you from across the room.
Rather than answer verbally, you held his heated stare and slowly, deliberately dragged your gaze over his form in a full-body rake. Only when you'd visually mapped every hard plane and sinuous curve did you meet his darkened eyes once more.
The heavy silence that stretched between you thrummed with smoldering tension and the sort of electric chemistry that you somehow never seemed to run out of these days. You were well and truly still drowning in the depths of that delirious honeymoon phase.
Clearing his throat, Lewis broke the thick moment by unfastening his wristwatch and handing it off to his assistant. As he fastened an assortment of jewelry to his wrists and fingers, you admired how the gleaming metal accents played against his burnished skin like molten sunlight.
Lewis seemed to fill every inch of his look with that potent masculinity of his. Raw, unapologetic virility in its most delicious form. He certainly cut an impressive figure, yet somehow your gown managed to visually complement his rather than compete. An exquisite confection of black and white fabric, delicate floral embroidery across the bodice, and gossamer tulle layers underneath for a more puffy skirt, it was a study in ornate romance. As a playful wink to your boyfriend's look, you'd requested a spray of lush John Ystumllyn roses to be artfully woven into your elaborate upswept braid.
The overall effect was absolute decadent glamour, blending seamlessly with Lewis's darker, more understated Ystumllyn homage. You were in perfect stylistic alignment, two halves of a striking whole.
As you rose to join him for a few final touchup photos before the grand arrival at the Met, Lewis's molten gaze raked over you with naked hunger.
"Good god, you're exquisite," he rasped, reaching out to ghost his fingers over the delicately embroidered skirt. "Perfect in every way."
Leaning in, you pressed a lingering kiss to the curve of his jaw, inhaling the heady scent of his cologne.
"You keep kissing me like that and we'll never make it out of this hotel room," Lewis rumbled, his large hands settling possessively at your ass.
You let out a breathless laugh, feeling deliciously giddy in a way that never seemed to fade these days, not when you were around him. "And that would be such a tragedy?" you countered playfully, rising on your tiptoes to feather a string of teasing kisses along the strong column of his neck. "Think of all the headlines - 'Hamilton a No-Show At Big Fashion Event, Too Busy Wifing Up Boo.'"
The growl that rolled through Lewis's broad chest could only be described as primal. "Cheeky girl."
With some reluctance, you forced yourself to take a step back, smoothing the lapels of his ensemble as you drank in every last detail that would soon have the world's photographers in a frenzy.
"Tonight's the night, babe," you murmured, unable to resist running an admiring palm over the solid plane of his chest. "Ready for your close-up with me by your side?"
Lewis's whiskey-brown gaze burned molten with certainty and desire. "More than ready. It's you and me, baby. We got this."
Offering his arm in that genteel way of his, Lewis ushered you from the hotel suite to begin your grand debut as an official couple. As you rode the elevator to the lobby, butterflies took fluttering flight in your belly, not from nerves but pure, unbridled excitement.
This relationship was still so new, so wholly unexpected and whirlwind and earth-shatteringly right, that tonight felt profoundly momentous. Your first time facing the glaring scrutiny of the world's media and paparazzi as Lewis Hamilton's date - his woman to put it simply.
Yet gazing up at the achingly handsome man by your side, you felt nothing but calm certainty and devotion unfurling within you. This was your reality now, this charmed existence where you were cherished and adored by one of the most famous and talented men in the world.
The roar from the crowds outside was deafening as the hotel doors parted. Lewis held onto your hand tightly as the two of you made a dash to the awaiting black SUV.
When the two of you finally arrived at the Met Gala carpet, the roar from the crowds gathered outside reached fever pitch as your driver opened the door, a solid wall of camera flashes and shouted greetings assaulting you.
As you emerged onto the frenetic Met Gala carpet, the roar of the crowds and paparazzi reached deafening levels. Lewis kept you tucked securely against his side, his large hand a scorching brand at the small of your back as you blinked against the blinding flashes.
"Just keep those gorgeous eyes on me, baby," he murmured, lips brushing your temple. "You've got this."
Your arms instinctively banded around his trim waist as you took his scorching weight, nodding wordlessly. This entire event was Madison Square Garden levels of sensory overload and spectacle. Despite Lewis's easy confidence and the steadying weight of his arm around you, nerves fluttered wildly in your belly. This was your official debut to the world as his girlfriend, after all.
As if sensing your slight trepidation, Lewis leaned in closer, stealing a series of soft, reassuring kisses along your cheekbone. "Be a good girl and stay calm for me," he rumbled in that sinfully delicious baritone, "and I'll make sure you get a very…special reward later tonight."
You shivered at the heated promise in his words, the suggestive waggle of those thick brows that never failed to turn your insides to molten lava. "What kind of reward?" you couldn't resist asking coyly.
Lewis simply flashed you a wicked grin before turning his magnetic presence on the press line.
"Lewis! Lewis, over here!"
Posing effortlessly with that second skin of charisma and charm, he graciously accepted the mic from the smiling Ashley Graham. "Looking like an absolute dream tonight, my friend. And who is this vision on your arm?"
With a possessive sweep of his free hand down the embroidered curve of your waist, Lewis reeled you in closer until you were melded against the scorching line of his body. "This remarkable woman is the love of my life," he proclaimed boldly, his honeyed gaze of pure devotion blazing into yours.
Ashley let out a delighted laugh. "So this is the official hard launch of your relationship then? Out and proud for all the world to see."
Lewis's chuckle was rich with satisfied masculine pride as he nuzzled a kiss to your temple, his nose nuzzling the sweetly fragrant blooms woven through your braid. "I guess you can say that, yeah. No point in hiding the way I feel about this one anymore."
Flushed and giddy with glee, you somehow made it up the iconic Met steps in a blissful daze, secured to Lewis's side and feeling utterly invincible in his steadfast presence. Once inside the grand venue, your vision was awash with dazzling lights, priceless gowns and dapper tuxedos, a truly who's who of Hollywood and fashion royalty.
At your secluded table, Lewis introduced you to his fellow guests - songstress Raye, actors Jodie Turner, Colman Domingo, and Charlie Hunnam. The group instantly folded you in with warm smiles and enthusiastic conversation as Lewis's large hand found its way to your thigh beneath the tablecloth.
A jolt of pure sin shot through you at the blazing path his fingers traced over your bare skin, squeezing and caressing with casual possessiveness. He was permanently branded into your nerve endings at this point, able to ignite you with even the simplest of touches.
Across the table, Colman leaned over with a twinkle in his eye. "Seems our Lewis found himself quite the stunner. You'd better keep that man on a leash."
"Oh trust me," you managed to rasp out around the lump in your throat, "I fully intend to."
A fresh roar rose from the crowd as some of the evening's co-chairs - none other than Zendaya and Bad Bunny - took the stage to kick off the night's festivities and programming. Ariana Grande herself soon serenaded the event as Lewis's fingers continued their torturously delightful ministrations beneath the table, your thighs trembling with the effort of keeping your expression impassive.
Just as the first strains of one of Ariana's biggest hits reached a crescendo, Lewis suddenly stood and grasped your hand. Throwing him a questioning look, you allowed him to tug you up beside him.
"Do you trust me?" The words were a low, heated rasp meant only for your ears.
Your answering nod was instant, unhesitating. At this point, you would likely follow this man into the flames if he asked.
Slipping his palm against the small of your back once more, Lewis guided you from the grand auditorium and out into the dimly lit corridor, somewhere quieter and more private. You let out a startled gasp as he abruptly tugged you into what appeared to be a utility closet, shutting and locking the door behind your bodies.
"Lewis, what are you - mmph!"
His lips crashed over yours with bruising, devouring force, swallowing your words and sending an electric jolt straight to your core. The enclosed space was immediately suffused with the heady scent of his cologne and the unique, musky aroma that was simply him - dangerously virile, achingly male.
Pinning you to the wall, Lewis plundered your mouth with that wicked, talented tongue, his hands shamelessly roaming every curve and dip of your body. When you instinctively arched into his solid frame with a desperate whimper, he let out a guttural groan of approval.
"Wanted you the second I saw you in that fucking dress," he rasped harshly against the swollen seam of your lips. "Christ, I can't get enough of you, baby. Can't ever get close enough."
Spreading his large palms over the flare of your hips, he tugged your lower bodies flush in a deliriously sinful grind. His eyes were fever-bright and blown wide in the dim closet, a maelstrom of possessive hunger.
"All night, I wanted you just like this," he commanded in that rough, wrecked tone that obliterated your higher reasoning. "Writhing on my dick, my name falling from those pretty lips…I can't wait to fuck you senseless later, but first I'm gonna do it with my hands."
The world could have fallen away in that heated moment, and you wouldn't have noticed or cared - not when Lewis was kissing you breathless, reducing you to a devastated puddle of want in the circle of his scorching embrace.
Feverishly tugging at his tuxedo jacket and shirt, you finally managed to spread your palms over that broad, powerful expanse of bare chest. God, the man was sculpted perfection, every striated muscle and sinew begging to be mapped and worshipped with your mouth.
You latched on with your mouth in a filthy, open-mouthed trail of nips and kisses, laving the heated skin with your tongue.
"Christ..." His head fell back with a ragged groan. "That mouth, baby...gonna fuckin' ruin me."
You blazed a messy path of worship over every glorious inch of bared flesh, nipping and swirling your tongue until his strangled curses spurred you onward. His hands continued to roam wildly, locating the zipper at the back of your gown and dragging it down in one long pull until you were exposed from shoulders to waist. The entire upper portion slithered free, puddling at your feet and leaving you bared from the waist up. Lewis's shredded grunt seemed to vibrate through your very nerve endings.
"Fuckin' stunning..." he husked, drinking in every newly revealed inch of your skin with undisguised want. "So gorgeous, baby."
Any sense of inhibition or location abandoned you as Lewis sealed his mouth over yours once more. You arched wantonly into his hardness, fingernails scoring lines down his powerful back as your lower bodies ground together in a maddening spiral of friction.
He broke away with a guttural rumble, latching onto your pulse point and sucking hard enough to leave a mark for all the world to see. A harsh tug followed, that broad palm closing around your thigh beneath the frothy skirt layers to hitch your leg over his powerful hip.
"Gonna make you mine now, girl," he growled against your damp skin. "No more waitin', no more teasin'..."
His free fingers sought the sleek juncture of your thighs, skimming along searing flesh, past your lace thong, and coaxing a litany of shameless moans past your parted lips. "This pretty pussy is mine."
The sheer possession in his lust-roughed baritone sent shockwaves of electric heat arrowing through you. He cupped you, skilled fingertips finding your slick, aching core as you canted your hips with a choked cry.
"Yes, Lewis...God yes!"
Rewarding your eager surrender with a harsh nip to the swell of your breast, he coaxed your other leg up and around his narrow waist. Pinning you to the wall fully, he slid two thick fingers into your dripping channel as his palm ground against your throbbing pearl in delicious torment.
"Fuckin' drenched for me," he commented with clear masculine satisfaction. "This what you want, baby girl? My fingers splitting you wide and fuckin' open..."
If he kept up that whiskey-rough filth while working you apart so skillfully, you were sure to detonate within seconds. Hips circling mindlessly, you chased the rapidly cresting highs, trusting him completely to send you plummeting over that euphoric edge.
"Please..." you sobbed, legs quaking where they were hooked around his lean hips. "Please, Lewis...I need..."
Whatever pleas remained caught in your throat as he claimed your lips again, swallowing your hoarse cries and whimpers. The built-in shelving at your back served as convenient leverage as he fingers pumped in a steady, owning cadence while his palm continued kneading at your sensitive bud with perfect pressure.
You tore your mouth away to gasp against his stubbled jaw, tingles of electricity licking along every nerve ending like wildfire. "I'm gonna...oh God, Lewis, I'm gonna..."
"That's it, baby." His answering rasp was shredded and dark, wreathed in blatant carnal pride at your wanton surrender. "Let it go for me...drench my fuckin' hand with it."
His vulgar praise was the final push you needed. With a drawn-out keening cry, your spine arched into an almost painful bow as you released in spectacular, obliterating waves of screaming pleasure. Lewis held you pinned as shockwave after shockwave washed over you, prolonging and intensifying your euphoric high.
At some point, you found yourself draped over him bonelessly, panting in great heaving gulps while he nuzzled your hairline and trailed hot, worshipful kisses over your face and throat. Though satisfyingly sated for the moment, an ember of longing still throbbed molten and low, awaiting his final searing brand.
"Goddamn, you're exquisite," Lewis breathed against your sweat-dampened skin. "I'll never get enough of you, baby girl. Not in this life or the next..."
As he shifted to mouth along the shuddering column of your exposed throat, those talented fingers still worked your flushed, sensitized flesh in tiny pulses and caresses, sending aftershocks of delicious torment skating through your limbs. Overwhelmed anew, you could only cling to him, this remarkable man whom you'd fallen so hopelessly in love with.
After sharing a lingering kiss that left you both slightly breathless, you reluctantly disentangled yourselves and began straightening rumpled attire. Lewis shot you a roguish wink as he smoothed the lapels of his immaculate tuxedo jacket. You bit your lip to stifle a giddy giggle, feeling deliriously happy despite the slight flush of embarrassment at being caught in such a compromising position.
Squaring your shoulders, you emerged from the utility closet trying your best to exude nonchalance. Lewis followed closely behind, his large palm skating across the small of your back in a reassuring caress. Immediately, you nearly walked straight into the grinning form of none other than Bad Bunny himself.
"Ay yi yi...." The Puerto Rican rapper's eyes danced with mischief as he took in your flustered appearances. "If I had known the closets were available, I would have brought someone myself."
Lewis just laughed, slinging an arm around your waist. "What can I say? She's irresistible."
You ducked your head shyly as Bad Bunny chuckled. After exchanging some playful banter, you and Lewis headed back to the Gala's main venue - hands intertwined, beaming unabashedly. Despite the brief embarrassment, your shared smiles spoke of an unbreakable partnership built on deep adoration. In Lewis's eyes, you were his unstoppable equal, his everything. And he was undeniably yours.
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targaryenluvs · 6 months
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VICTORS SPOILS
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pairings: dark!finnick odair x fem!capitol!reader
warnings: obsession, following/stalking, creepy behaviour, naive/younger reader, age gap, (reader is 19 and finnick's around 25), non-con touching and kissing, manipulation, bj mentions/insinuations, sex mentions, prostitution mentions, finnick lowkey preying on you - descriptions of brown reader (i was self indulgent since i’m indian 😁) condescending/nit picking mother and pushy parents!
summary: a victor should be celebrated! a victor should get what ever they wish, even if it’s a sweet capitol girl who misplaced her kindness in someone who was in desperate need of reprieve and distraction.
a/n: ITS MY BIRTHDAY!!! HERES A GIFT FROM ME TO YOU ❤️GUESS WHO MADE HER OWN LITTLE HEADER GAHH!! i tried my bestttt - ive been away for a littleeee!! sorry babes <33 it was like 3am and i cooked this up in my head before opening my brewing pot (notes app) and jotting it down - NOT PROOFREAD
the hall was so loud.
they always were at capitol parties. your mother and father always dragged you along, stating that a young lady should be getting out, meeting people, friends, becoming well versed and established in the capitol. and that they wouldn’t always be here. “you need to learn to be alone, fend for yourself and stand your ground. how are you gonna do that if you’re always trying to keep to yourself dear?” your mother sweetly smiled as she looked over you, “i think you still have time to change that dress, not the most flattering sweetie.”
you scoffed as she walked away ever so elegantly. you looked over yourself in the mirror, the green dress was gorgeous, to you at least. but the blue dress your mother had chosen was breath-taking, as much as you hated to agree with her opinion. so you bit your tongue and put the chosen dress on.
mother knows best right?
the sun was setting with an especially beautiful array of colours to which you figured no one would really notice you were gone if they were all focused on something else. there was probably a screen upstairs which you could watch something on. a few things to eat and drink then you’d head up there.
finnick was glancing over to you the whole night. you’d worn blue, and he’d taken it as an ode to him. you hadn’t looked over at him yet but your leaving of the party seemed like an invitation to him to finally introduce himself.
as you settled down on the plush couch you felt all your tensions melt away. but finnick wouldn’t leave you alone for long. “i’m sorry i didn’t know this was occupied.” finnick looked sad and you had no clue why, so being as nice as you are had you opening the room in invitation to him. “no, no! i just wanted to get away from the party. you’re welcome to sit with me finnick.” it felt odd to you for some reason, calling him by his name as if he was a friend. you’d only ever seen him through screens and from afar yet he looked as amazing as always.
“are you sure?” you nodded and smiled, moving down the couch to make room for him. he sat down, respectful of your space. he looked drained and you felt the same way. “tired of the party?” you asked as he smiled and nodded, “a lot of people asking a lot of questions.” you spoke, “everyone has something to say or ask. my dad told me he got three men asking for my hand. we haven’t even been here for two hours. it’s like being in a room with vultures. and if i do accept i’ll just be, nothing. someone stuck to the side of some ugly guy who just wants a pretty face.” you didn’t know what it was about him but you felt as if you could tell him anything.
and he sat, and listened. nodding his head and adding it where appropriate. it felt, nice. having someone actually listen to what you said rather than just asking what you were wearing. he was nothing like what you expected. you’d heard the whispers. that he was a playboy, he was with and had been with multiple women and men over the years. and that he liked it, the gifts, the people, the uhm, other aspects.
“but you, i’m sure you have people to meet, scope out.” you wanted to curl up and die as soon as the words left your mouth. “no! oh my god, i do not mean it like that. you- i- you should not feel ashamed of what you like. i am so sorry- i didn’t mean to imply-” god would you stop droning on? finnick pressed his lips into a thin line, “hey it’s okay. you’re fine. in all honestly, i know everyone has mis-conceptions of me.” you took his place in attentive listening as he explained the truth.
the threats, the people pawing at him, him being sold from fourteen.
you were crying. it all sounded unbelievable and unbearable for someone to go through at such a young age, his life was ruined all because he was pretty, desirable. no child should even have to think of such things let alone experience them. and rather than you comforting him, he was sitting with his arms around you. he was too good to be true.
“i- no i’m so sorry that happened to you finnick. i had no clue, no one does. you are such an amazing person, from the little time i’ve known you. you don’t deserve any of this. how could you get away from this? we could- we could expose snow we could-” finnick cut you off with teary eyes, “there’s nothing we can do. trust me, if there was i would have tried. but i think, if i got married perhaps. i’d have a reason to stay away from the captiol. we’d live in district four, in peace.”
the idea was pretty decent, you’d give him that. and you couldn’t help your heart running a little faster at the prospect of potentially marrying him. you were already fast friends, at least you’d marry a friend? even if he potentially loved someone else or you loved another.
“what if- if you married me?”
he’d hoped you’d say that.
“you’d do that for me? seriously?” finnick faked shock as you nodded, “we’re friends, i’d much rather marry you than anyone else here to be honest. we could be happy.” you smiled as he wiped away his last tear. “y/n, that’s an amazing idea.”
your wedding was marvellous.
your parents pushed out buck after buck, no expense spared for their little girl. as if they actually cared for you. your wedding dress was white and pristine, courtesy of snow. your brown hair in curls and your brown skin glistening. but you added blue accents for finnick, or you thought you did. it’s not like he pushed for you to wear the things he bought by incessantly reminding the makeup artists and helpers that you were marrying the finnick odair, his wife deserved nothing but the best.
you stood infront of a friend, smiling, happy to be marrying a kind soul.
he stood in front of the object of his affection, his desire and love.
in the first few weeks you were undeniably happy, finnick was as sweet as ever and respected you. it was your best outcome. but overtime you seemed to notice changes in his behaviour. when you’d want to go out into town for dinner he’d always have an excuse up his sleeve.
“there’s roadworks towards your favourite restaurant honey. maybe another time?”
“apparently they’re all booked out, maybe in a few weeks time?”
“wouldn’t you rather have a home-cooked meal? i made your favourite sweetheart.”
it began to annoy after the sixth time. “it can’t always be busy can it? we use to go all the time, and it’s not like they’d refuse you finnick. what’s going on?”
“i give you everything you could ever want. why the hell do you want to go out so much? am i not enough? are you- are you seeing someone?” finnick slumped in his seat.
your eyes widened as you rushed over to him, settling on your knees as your hands were placed on his thighs, “finnick how could you say such a thing? i would never do that to you. i swear there’s nothing going on, i just, i’m bored. i’d like to go out with you, explore your district with you, meet new people with you.” finnicks eyes burnt into yours. this is certainly not how he first wanted to see you on your knees, but at least you were whining.
“yeah? you like me? you promise there’s nothing going on?” you nodded dumbly, “yes yes! nothing i promise.” finnick looked down at your hands in his lap, “how do i know you’re not lying?” your hands were on his knees as you straightened your back, coming closer to his eye level, “i promise finnick. you are my husband, i’m with you. i’ll do anything to prove it to you.”
finnick was fighting off every muscle in his cheeks to not start grinning whilst the sad look on his face was breaking your heart, “yeah? anything?” oh this was going to be good. your cheeks were flushed as you heard the words come of out his mouth, “undo my belt sweetheart, show me how much you mean it.” wavering hands hovered over his belt buckle as finnick relaxed into his seat, it couldn’t get better than this right?
wrong.
every time you asked to go out, to meet a friend, to go to the capitol he’d always sulk. and the night would end with you on your knees, him on his to make you forget, or the two of you tangled in sheets.
finnick was finally happy, he had the girl of his dreams after such a long period of sadness, of exploitation and terror. fake smiles and lingering eyes.
he finally got something out of the games.
and his gift?
the victors spoils.
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spooksicl-e · 3 months
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thrilled to have worked on this piece, ecstatic that it was chosen as the header for the upcoming shco case<33
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