#and putting them together just felt RIGHT

[luveline]

Hiii!! Could I request a bombshell reader x Spencer where someone (a local police maybe) says something rude to her about her appearance or something and normally it doesn’t really get to her, but something snaps and she kinda shuts down/is rude to Spencer until he coaxes it out of her? Sorry it’s long I had an idea and ran w it loollll

ty for requesting angel! confident fem!reader, 1k

Spencer shouldn’t expect his colleague to hold his hand, especially one so confident. What sense would that make, a woman as established as you are, who smiles without a lick of worry nor smugness, wanting to hold his hand? 

But you do it all the time, is the thing. In the car on the way to crime scenes, in the hallways of the office, under the round table. It started as a tethering for his distractedness, when one day he’d wanted to talk but hadn’t had the presence of mind to walk at the same time, so you’d taken his hand and led him to the office. You’ve been taking it at your discretion ever since.  

Spencer knows something is wrong —you haven’t tried to hold his hand all day. And even if you aren’t interested in him romantically, Spencer has come to crave the touch. He’ll accept platonic hand holding. Anything, really. 

“You’re staring very deeply, Dr. Reid,” you mutter, shades from your usual lightness. 

“I’m thinking.” 

“Aren’t you always?” 

“About you.”

“Well,” you smile fleetingly. “You should always be thinking about me.” 

“You’re truly humble.” 

His joke doesn’t land, it crashes and burns; your smile fades completely into a short, sharp line. Your gaze moves back into the restaurant, waiting for the team's food order in silence once again. 

Spencer’s pinky finger twitches across the gap. 

“Is everything okay?” he asks. 

“Fine.” 

You stay quiet, Spencer worries. He takes the bags before you can when they bring your food to the collection desk, two lumps of heat he holds to his thighs as you begin the walk back to the hotel. Tonight, the team will pick at their food together and rehash the same arguments they’ve been making all day, filling in each other's gaps, and tomorrow the work will start again. He can’t have you this unhappy again tomorrow. 

“You’re amazing,” he says, watching you turn to him from the corner of his eye, “you know you are, we all do, everyone who meets you. I know you don’t need me to tell you that, or to feel better, but… I’m here for you. If you want to talk. It’s been a hard couple of days, and talking about traumatic events as they happen and directly afterward make them easier to recover from.” 

“I’m not traumatised.” 

“Upsetting,” he corrects. “Having a shoulder to cry on is good for you, and I can be that shoulder. You know, if you need me to be.” 

He can’t know this in the moment, though maybe one day you’ll tell him, further down the line when the hand holding is better defined, but you look at him and you love him. To know Spencer is to love him. Or at least that’s how you’ve always felt. You’d love to cry on his shoulder about what transpired that morning if it weren’t embarrassing to think about, you’re upset over a throwaway comment made by nobody important. 

Spencer offers his company earnestly. He stammers. It’s amazingly sincere, as he usually is. He won’t mind if it’s embarrassing, he’ll just listen. 

You clear your throat. “I know I’m not to everyone’s taste. I know that the way I… present myself isn’t what most men like. People love confidence, but not when it’s bossy, not when it’s– when it’s vain. And I am vain. I think about my appearance a lot, I think I’m beautiful most of the time, I try so hard to have that be true.” You eye him thoughtfully. “Do you realise that?” 

He shakes his head gently, one ear toward one shoulder and then the other, as though balancing. “Sort of. I know you put effort into your appearance, but I also assume a lot of it to be natural.” 

“Right, well. It’s not natural. Not really. My natural beauty wouldn’t be all the beautiful to most people. And I’ve accepted that, I know what I like about myself, and–” You’re losing the thread of your point, an upset creeping into your melodic tone and turning it ragged. “When people tell me they don’t like how I look now, I guess it hurts because I know they wouldn’t like me before, either, and I feel defeated because I know I can’t win.” 

“Who said they don’t like how you look?” Spencer asks, confused, on his way to annoyed. 

“Officer Friendly.” You look to your shoes, watching the steps you take. “Guess he wasn’t as nice as we thought.” 

“What did he say to you?” 

You shrug. “Same story. He doesn’t like girls who wear makeup. Doesn’t like uppity women.” 

“Did he call you that?” 

“What are you gonna do if he did?” you ask without malice. 

“Morgan’s teaching me self defence for a reason.” You smile at his light joke, though it doesn’t last. He transfers the takeout bags into one hand, the other held out to you, his fingers sliding down your arm to your wrist. “You know you’re beautiful, with or without makeup. And you’re not uppity, you’re out of his league. There’s a difference.” 

“You’re flirting with me.” 

“No.” He wishes he had the wherewithal sometimes, but this isn’t flirting. “I’m being honest with you. Men like that don’t like you because they know they’ll never, ever have you, or anyone like you. There isn’t anyone like you,” he adds, sliding his hand into yours. 

He squeezes all your fingers together twice in quick succession. 

“Don’t let a jealous chauvinist halfwit make you think you’re not good enough,” he says. 

You curl your fingers around his before he can take his hand back. Slowly, you squeeze his hand. Then, smiling, you let him go. 

“I’ve never heard you say something mean like that,” you say. “Halfwit. That’s crass.” 

“I was going to say he’s an asshole, if that’s better.” 

Your laugh echoes off of the sidewalk. “That’s perfect. Say something meaner.” 

The insult he uses next doesn’t bear repeating. 

#spencer and bombshell reader #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction

[c00kieguy]

𝔻𝕣𝕖𝕤𝕤 𝕌𝕡

relationships: afab!Aventurine x amab!gn!Reader summary: Fucking Aventurine in his boss form cw: oral (Aventurine receiving), face sitting, face fucking(a bit), cum eating (Reader), piv, creampie and a bit of aftercare. Ratio mention at the end too i guess? a/n: I wanted to get this done before his banner but oh well. This was a bit of a challenge to finish since I haven't written smut in over a year lol wc: 3k masterlist

“Keeping your mask on?”

After having begged your boyfriend for hours on end, he finally gave into your whims. Ever since you got a peek at his alternate form (you weren’t even aware he had one!) you couldn’t get it out of your mind…

“Of course, you wanted to see me like this right? Gotta enjoy the whole package.” He says while sitting on your lap facing towards you. He has his arms wrapped around your neck, his coat and hat long forgotten on the couch so you could better slot into each other’s bodies while cuddling.

It was really fascinating how different he was in this form. Sure, he was still your same old lovely boyfriend, but with a more confident vibe (if that was even possible). You find it adorable how even his voice, now muffled by the mask, sounds a little different, more gruff, and yet so familiar.

“Mmm, but I miss your face.” You say with a fake pout, he finds your exaggeration amusing. You supposed you did ask for the whole package and the whole package is what you shall get. Wrapping your hands around his waist you pull him closer, your chests now touching. This moment felt all too perfect to you. Burying your face in his neck you let out a content hum, Aventurine finds the subtle buzzing on his skin almost therapeutic. However, he was getting a little curious on why you were so infatuated with this look.

“I’m starting to think you like this version of me better.” He says teasingly. You reluctantly pull away from the comfort of his neck to look at him.

“Of course not, I love both versions equally.” The black and turquoise mask stares at you and you could almost feel the deadpanned look he was giving you through it.

“If you had to pick, which one?” 

“Are you telling me to choose between you and…yourself?” You ask with a small laugh.

“You know what I mean.”

“No, no I don’t.” He sighs at your reply. Why did you have to be so difficult?

“What do you like so much about this anyway?” Aventurine himself didn’t see anything special about this outfit, afterall, that’s all it was. The cornerstone had nothing to do with the way he looked. He put so much time and effort into meticulously piecing together this outfit that he almost looked offended when you suggested it was the cornerstone doing all the work.

“Hmm, well. Your everyday outfit is more on the cute and handsome side I’d say, while this…it’s more…” You trail off, unsure how to finish the sentence without looking too desperate.

“Flamboyant? Flashy? Extravagant?”

“...sexy.” He has to do a double take because what did you just say? Did he hear that right? You’re really embarrassed to have admitted it but he’s not letting you off the hook.

“Oh-ho? Why so?” You feel really flustered now so you bury your face in his shoulder.

“Just that it really uh…” You pause, trying to word this the best way possible. “Accentuates you.” Aventurine leans back with his hands resting on your thighs behind him to give you a better view of his body. Your hands still rest on his hips.

“What part of me?” When you don’t reply he continues. “Aw, suddenly shy, are you?”

“Well, I can’t just say ‘your ass looks so plump I need to eat you out’ now can I?” He barks out a laugh and leans into you. 

He places his hands over yours and guides them down to his ass and you give it a little squeeze, drawing out a soft sigh out of him. “Well? What are you waiting for?” You don’t think twice before sliding down to lie on your back as Aventurine crawls up to you and sits on your chest with his thighs on either side of your head. You feel the gold plating on his legs poke at your cheeks a little but you pay it no mind. 

“Does this thing have a zipper…?”

“No need.” He uses his sharp claw like nails to tear an opening right where his hole is. Hot.

“Might wanna keep those away from my face haha…” 

“Why? Scared- ahh~!” He sucks in a shaky breath when he feels you run your thumb over his slit.

“Me? Never.” You lick his slick off your fingers, taunting him. Aventurine shudders as he clenches around nothing in anticipation, he feels so empty all of a sudden, his desire to be ravaged by you taking priority over all else. Carefully he supports himself on his knees and positions himself in front of your face, his legs start to tremble at the feeling of your hot breath right on his entrance. Aventurine takes your words to mind and so instead of having his fingers tangled in your hair, he resorts to resting them against the wall in front of him. 

You haven’t even started yet and he’s already putty in your hands. Just the thought of you eating him out was enough to get him so incredibly wet. You take the time to savor the view for a while, just Aventurine practically sitting on your face and his hips twitching in excitement. His face may be hidden behind his mask but you could almost imagine the lewd expression he’d have on him when you shove your face between his legs. Mouth slightly agape as soft moans spill out of them and eyes so hazy and clouded in pleasure you’d wonder if he could even see. Guess you had to just make do and use your imagination for today.

“ooHh! mMm-hgnHn…!” Aventurine whimpers, desperately trying to steady himself against the wall right as you start licking his slit and oh he felt so close to losing his mind. He for one was very glad he still had his mask on. It was embarrassing enough to be moaning so much at the slightest touch, but if he had to make eye contact as well, he might just evaporate on the spot.

Your hot tongue laps at his hole like someone who’s been starving for days, and with how sweet he tasted you might as well have been. With the way Aventurine bucked his hips into your face in desperation, it didn’t take long for his delicious juices to start dribbling down your chin. The blonde was in such a daze he didn’t even realize that he’d started moving his hips until you placed a firm grip on them to stop him.

“Try not to move M’kay? I’ll make you feel good, I promise.” And with that you slowly start to push your tongue inside him. Aventurine stutters out a loud moan at the sensation, your thick, hot tongue spreading him open and plunging inside him repeatedly. You made sure to give some attention to his clit as well by fondling it with your thumb, alternating between pressing the sensitive nub and rubbing circles around it. 

All the attention you’re giving him keeps dragging out moan after moan from the pretty blond. His whole body twitches in pleasure at your greedy caresses, knees going so weak that he’s scared he might suffocate you if he went any lower. Desperately he claws at the wall he tries to keep his legs steady, his nails leaving large scratch marks on the surface that you’ll deal with later. Seeing as he was struggling to hold himself up you tug at his waist.

“Sit.” He hesitates so you nudge his thighs apart to urge him on. “What? You won’t kill me.” Reluctantly he spreads his legs a bit more and lowers himself on your face. In this position you seem to have better reach. Not stopping for a second you continue to repeatedly push your tongue into his warm hole.

Feeling so close to cumming, Aventurine puts his hand on your head and you have to remind to be careful. You’re not sure if he heard you since he starts mindlessly rutting into your face again. This time though you just let him do as he pleases, it was clear he couldn’t focus on anything outside of the pleasure he’s feeling. You felt the gold plates on his thighs scrape your cheeks slightly but choose to ignore it. 

“AhhH-nGh! so c-close…ha…please, don’t stop, please please pleasepleaseplase-” He blabbers on shamelessly into his mask. It only takes a few more licks of your tongue to make him cum as he presses his pussy flush against your face. Arching his back he lets out a loud moan as the orgasm hits him, nearly going cross eyed at the waves of pleasure flowing through his body. 

Panting heavily, Aventurine slowly comes down from his high. You support his thighs as he lowers himself to sit on your chest. He haphazardly tosses his mask to the side to breathe more easily and catch his breath. You were happy to be able to finally see his face and you admired his puffy lips, the way his hole pulsed as the orgasm slowly wore off was tantalizing..

“Ha..ha, hng…Is that all?” Your eyes shoot up to meet his own at the taunt. “Come on, I got all dressed up just for you.” Raising his knees he displays his wet cut to you. What an invitation, how could you ever refuse?

“I was just waiting for you to recover, but since you insist-” You quickly roll over so you’re on top of him, arms holding him down and your clothed bulge pressing up against his needy hole. “I’m sure I won’t have to prep you, right?” Aventurine shudders at the sudden change in your demeanor, he found it really hot whenever you took charge. Something about being taken by someone larger than him really hit all the right spots. He tries to wrap his hands around your neck but you grab his writ to stop him. “Turn around, I don’t want you shredding my back to ribbons.” He just gives you a cheeky grin.

“Why? I thought you weren’t scared-” Not letting him finish you flip him over and press his face into the mattress, he lets out a whimper at being manhandled by you. Just thinking of what you were going to do to him made him wet.

Not wasting a second more you quickly undo your pants and take your shaft out. Then slowly you line yourself up with his hole, making sure to rub your tip along his slit and coat your length in his wetness, he sighs at the feeling, just wanting you to  fuck him already. You deliberately take it slow anyway, knowing with how little patience he had you’d soon hear him complain. Just as you thought, you felt him push back into you, desperate to be filled up. “Hurry-” you immediately shove your full length into him.

Aventurine lets out a loud moan as you suddenly stuff him to the brim, he swore he could see stars dance across his eyes at the sudden intrusion. He felt so full, but you don’t give him time to adjust and start hammering away at his pussy. Still wet from you eating him out, there’s barely any friction as you slam into him. The sound of skin slapping and loud whorish moans echo around the room as your hips continue to snap against his ass. You lean down over his figure and press down on his body, the new angle allowing your dick to penetrate deeper. He lets out a gargled moan at the new feeling. “You like that?” He shudders at your husky voice right beside his ears.

The way you push him down into the mattress, face buried in the sheets as you fuck him from behind. The amount of pleasure he was feeling was so overwhelming that he couldn’t think of anything else but the way your length stretches him out. No matter how many times you’ve had sex he could never get used to your quick hard thrusts. Every time you have him on his stomach it inevitably leads to you rutting into him like an animal. He just looked so cute in this position every time, face down, ass up, all spread out just waiting for you to devour him.

You admire the way his ass jiggles every time you plunge into him, the black fabric wrinkling with each of your thrusts, slowly getting damp around the edges as it gets covered in your sweat and cum. Aventurine claws at the sheets as he feels himself getting closer, his nails ripping away at the fabric trying to hold onto something. You felt yourself getting close too, and the way he kept clenching around you definitely wasn’t helping.

You thrust into him one last time and fill him up, your hot load filling him up so well. Just the feeling of being stuffed itself is enough to push him over the edge as well. The blond cums with a muffled moan covered by the mattress as he creams around your length, his vision goes blank for a second with how immensely good it felt.

It takes a while for you to calm down, so you stay there in that position, you buried deep inside him, just for a few more minutes. Once you’re done regaining your composure you slowly pull out of him and he whines at the loss of the warmth. You take in the view of your cum oozing out of his cunt, and you had half the mind to just fuck it back into him but you let it slide, maybe some other day. Aventurine rolls over on his back, letting out steady gasps trying to catch his breath.

But you weren’t done yet. “Let me clean you up.” All he could muster was a small ‘huh?’ before your mouth is on his pussy. Aventurine arches his back mewls as you lick up all the cum leaking out of his still sensitive hole. He twitches and writhes under you at the overstimulation, hands gripping at the torn sheets to steady himself and legs sliding against the mattress. Luckily you’re done before he has a chance to crush your head with his thighs, a prospect that would normally be appealing but with the new armor on him you didn’t fancy the idea too much. You lift yourself up to his face again.

Aventurine just stares at you in a daze, small pants escaping through his mouth, still not having fully recovered from his second orgasm. But when you kiss him he doesn’t pull away. He moans into the kiss as your tongues slide against each other, a mixture of both your cum and his slick still lingering in your mouths. He slides his hand over your back to hold you closer but accidentally scratches you making you pull away from his lips as you wince at the small nick.

“Careful…” He gives you an apologetic look. “Why do you even have those? They don’t seem to be serving any purpose” That made him perk up all of a sudden.

“It’s called fashion.” He says with an exaggerated posh accent. “It doesn’t need a purpose, as long as it looks cool.” You laugh but you had to admit, it did look really cool. You loved this, just lying next to each other, talking about random things, just being so open with each other. You brush a small strand of hair aside and place a kiss on his nose, you loved him so much.

“I feel so sticky and disgusting...” Aventurine suddenly laments. 

“Cute, sticky and disgusting.” You correct him. He just scoffs at your comment and asks you to help him undress. 

“There’s a zipper up here.” He points to his upper back. And you start unzipping it. “One in the front too, but they’re small, so it’ll be a tight squeeze.” He handles the one in the front.

“No other zips then?” He hums in agreement as he struggles to remove his sleeves. “So, kinda like a wetsuit.” Interesting. “Where does the cornerstone go?”

“Oh I just absorb it, and” He points to the teal upside down heart on his chest. “This starts glowing.” 

“Absorb it like…into your bloodstream…?” He gives you an amused look at your absurd take.

“Not exactly…? I’m not sure where it goes but it’s definitely inside me.” He finally manages to yank off the top part and you can’t help but stare at his bare chest. Aventurine catches you in the act and laughs.

“You should look at yourself right now, your cheeks are bright red.” He brushes his hand against your face but you grimace. “Did that…hurt?”

“Just a little…?” Even you’re confused now. He takes a closer look at your face and notices the small reddish bumps forming on your cheek and it hits him. He did this, the sharp ornaments on his outfit, they hurt you, he hurt you.

“I’m so sorry I-” 

“Don’t.” You cut him off. “I’m the one who asked you to get all dolled up for me.” Taking his hand in yours you place a small reassuring kiss to his palm. “And I loved it, wouldn’t have done it any other way.”

“But you’re hurt, I..I hurt you.” Really, he worried too much.

“They’re no different than hickeys, now are they?” 

—————————

“I suppose at the end of the-” You stop in your tracks. “Everything alright? You’ve been staring at me an awful lot, Ratio.” He really was. You were just sharing a funny story from last week but the doctor just kept looking at you as if you had a brick for a face.

“How are you lately?” He asks tentatively. “Has anyone been causing you any trouble?” OK, that’s definitely an odd question.

“No…? Why do you ask?”

“I was merely curious, seeing as you seem to acquire a new band aid every time we meet.” He points to the new one you put on today on your neck. Oh. You had completely forgotten about that. 

For every day after that fateful night you’d find a new tiny scratch on you. Be it on your back, shoulders or neck, you swore you even had a few on your thighs (how??). Every time you did find one you’d go to Aventurine immediately and report it to him in amusement. Almost like a Look! We fucked so nasty I can still feel it! They were all tiny scratches but still really itchy, so you kept adding a band aid over each one just to alleviate the discomfort.

Ratio clears his throat to drag you out of your thoughts, you completely forgot he was there for a second..

“Oh that, it’s just ….heh, uh…” The bashful look on your face is enough for Ratio to get the gist of it. His face immediately scrunches up as if he’d just taken a generous bite out of a lemon.

“Ugh, please spare me the details. And to think I worried for you.”

a/n: I think it should be mandatory to have Ratio in any Aventurine fics and vice versa, even if it's for a small gag at the end.

masterlist

© c00kieguy ➼ do not repost/copy/translate (without my permission) or claim any of my works as your own. Reblogs are appreciated ❣

#sub hsr #sub honkai star rail #sub aventurine #hsr smut #hsr x reader #honkai star rail smut #dom reader #sub character #dom gn reader #hsr aventurine #aventurine x reader #star rail aventurine #top reader #hsr #nsft #x dom reader #aventurine smut #dom!reader #sub!character #c00kie.writes

[formula1blog]

Traitor- CL16

Part 1- Traitor ( you are here)

Part 2- Take me back to the night we met

Part 3- Bust your windows out your car

Boyfriend Charles Leclerc x singer Fem!Reader

Summary: You found out that your boyfriend cheated on you and your friends help you pack up.

wc: 1200+

A/N: I am using Alex for the photos, but of course no hate to her.

F1Gossip

F1Gossip: Charles Leclerc spotted on a yacht with a mysterious woman. Are Charles and singer Y/N L/N, his 'current' girlfriend, broken up after five years of dating?

-

Cl16ferarri: Charles nooo

Y/NisBest: All Men do is lie

F1Ferarrifan: I can't defend you anymore Charles. WHYYYY

Y/n/Charles: They were suppose to get married.

-> clsuppermarcy: they were together for 5 years. How can that not mean anything to him???

Lovegossip: Maybe they just broke up. He didn't have to cheat.

User682: Home wrecker

LebeYN: I feel a new album coming

-> SingerF1: I hope so

HateYm: Finally, i hated her

-> Supportynalways: Fuck off

-------------

You couldn't believe it. When you opened up Twitter and saw that your boyfriend, now an ex-boyfriend, was trending you didn't expect it to be because of this. Charles had been spotted with a woman on a yacht. They were standing to close to each other, to close to be friends. Your gut feelings were confirmed when you saw the next photo. They were laying on a sunbed, this woman on top of Charles, making out. The next photo was Charles kissing her, it kept going.

You had felt sick to your stomach by the look of it. How could you be so stupid to let this happen. He had told you that he was going to a meeting with his team. Well this looked highly unprofessional and definitely a job for HR. Did those five years mean nothing to him?

You had gotten up from the couch to pack your bags. You were still in your apartment, in Charles apartment. You tried to get everything in your suitcases, not wanting to go back and see Charles. You know that if he asks to forgive him you wouldn't be able to resist him.

You heard your phone ringing and saw that it was Pierre. Not knowing if Pierre already knew and wanted to talk about that or if it was an emergency, you picked up. "Bonjour Pierre," you greeted through the phone. You placed the phone on the duvet so you could continue while speaking. "Salut, are you okay?" he asked right away. Was Pierre really asking you this, probably knowing what is going on. Being Charles' s best friend he should not be doing this.

Placing some clothes inside the suitcase you answered "Never been better," The answer was filled with a thick layer of sarcasm. Tears were now streaming down your face as you tried to keep your breathing steady. "I am going to get you with Kika. We will be there in 20 minutes, please don't leave." you heard a car start in the background and you couldn't believe what was happening. Even though you, Pierre and Kika were close, you were friends with them because of Charles. Charles had been the one to introduce you to his best friend, who later became one of your closest friends. "You don't have to. I can just take a cab to the airport, you don't have to ruin your time." you snicked.

You heard a voice in the background of the phone and before you knew it Kika's voice was filling the phone speaker. "Hello Honey, don't even try to resist. We will pick you up. You are in no state to be alone. We will get some take out and watch a movie. " you smile at her comment. You love her for this.

"Wouldn't it be weird for Pierre. I mean that jerk is his best friend." you heard a soft 'put it on speaker' before hearing the french mans voice again. "He is, but not right now. I don't tolerate cheating. I will not take his side on this." laughing you finally agree with their suggestion of picking you up. "Alright, I am still packing so you don't need to be so fast. I am trying to get five whole years into two suitcases. "

Everywhere you looked in the apartment it reminded you of Charles. He had asked you to move in after 1 year of dating and you had abruptly moved all your possessions into his apartment. It had become your home. You had filled it with furniture you found in stores. Your plants were in all the Corners and there was no way to take those all with you. Pictures of you and Charles were standing on your nightstand, his eyes looking right at you. Had you been so blind to see that it was all fake?

He hadn't even tried to call you after the gossip was all on the internet. You knew that he had seen it, that boy was always looking up his own name. He had to know what people were thinking of him. He had seen the pictures, seen the way people were thinking and he didn't even try to talk to you.

You heard a knock on the door and screamed that the door was open. Not even ten seconds later Kika was by your side and took you into a hug. "I am so sorry honey. Men are truely awful." you couldn't help but let tears stream down your face as your wrapped your arms around the Portuguese woman. "Don't let your boyfriend hear that." you joked and

"I am not here to judge, only to carry your stuff out of here. I have an extra box for your books."He held up a big carton box, two more laying next to him "I don't know if everything fits if you need more stuff in these, but at least more than those suitcases. " Pierre walked towards the bookshelf which was mostly filled with your books. You have always adored reading, but because of your singing career you didn't have much time for it. "Just tell me which one are you favorites and I put them all in and move them to my car. We do need to hurry a bit because I know that Charles is on a flight back."

Of course that man was coming back home. That is why she wanted to leave so fast as she could to do everything to avoid that jerk. "If you can grab all the limited edition and hardcover ones first that would be great. For the rest just fill them with what space is left. I am really thankful for your help." Pierre shrugs his shoulders as if it wasn't a big deal. He started to place all the books carefully into the boxes. Kika had walked to your bathroom to get your make up and skin care products.

After ten more minutes of packing up and checking if you had all the important stuff, you three left the apartment and walked towards Pierre's car with the suitcases. Kika went to sit next to you in the back and Pierre behind the wheel. "What do you want to eat?" the model asked. You didn't really mind so long it wasn't ice cream. Charles had taken a lot of his own brand home but his trainer didn't let him eat it, so you had been trying to get rid of all those tubs by eating them. "I just want some sloppy, salty McDonalds fries. And maybe a burger."

Pierre had put it on the radio and started to drive to the main road. "McDonalds it is."

Part 2

#charles leclerc 16 #charles lecrelc #cl16 #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x female reader #f1 #formula 1 #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc imagine #pierre gasly #kika gomes #charles leclerc

[ephemeral-among-the-stars]

Hi there darling, saw your requests open, so I decided to slide in like the snail i am

Aventurine x reader arguments ansgt to fluff

BUT! if you're not comfortable with that, you can also write

aventurine X reader whos love language is also gift giving (like his) and reader likes to receive gifts too but feels guilty when aventurine spends too much money on them

Risking too much (ft. Aventurine)

Pairing: Aventurine x reader

Tags: angst to comfort, established relationships, slightly dark themes

Warnings: spoilers for 2.1 (mentions of Aventurine's real name), non-native english writer, might be OOC

A/N: Thank you for your request! ♡ It took some time to write, I was insanely busy the last few days, sorry qwq Don't know if this is what you wanted, but I've tried my best

-`♡´- MASTERLIST -`♡´- 

Aventurine is constantly putting everything on the line, even himself.

Needless to say, the constant risk intertwined with his life was making you terribly anxious every day. You knew that he was scared for his life, too, waiting for the fortune to leave him at any moment.

One of his recent missions was supposed to take no more than a day. "It should be a piece of cake", he said. But in the evening you were still alone, staring at the phone screen with a dozen unanswered messages. Aventurine had been online that morning, not so long after he left, but you hadn't heard from him since.

Just a horrifying emptiness.

Three long days passed before he showed up on the doorstep of your shared home, absolutely exhausted. Needless to say, you hadn't eaten or slept much the whole time, checking your private messages every now and then.

"Hey, love…" he was trying to hide his own storm of different emotions behind his usual smile. "I'm sorry, I…"

But you didn't let him finish.

"You disappeared for three days! Three!" there was so much pain and despair in your voice that every word felt like a stab to his heart. "I thought you were dead!"

To be honest, he thought he was going to die too. Maybe he lied a little about the complexity of the mission so as not make you worried, hoping that he'd get lucky and everything will end much quicker.

"Not everything went according to plan," he was ashamed to hide anything from you, even the gruesome details. "There were… Problems with some hostile people who didn't want to negotiate with IPC representatives."

"Like?.." you asked, preparing for the worst.

"Like... I was captured and they really wanted to get rid of me. But… They didn't succeed. Everything's okay now, right? I'm here. And I'm alive," Aventurine tried to smooth things over, but judging by the way tears started rolling down your cheeks, he didn't succeed either.

"Everything's okay, you say? After you nearly died?!"

His facade immediately dropped. Aventurine pressed his lips tightly together, realizing how much stress was weighting not only on him, but on you too every time. And he couldn't blame you for reacting so emotionally.

If you suddenly disappeared from his life without a word, he'd go insane.

"I'm sorry."

"I don't want an apology!" you sobbed. "I want to know that my beloved is alive and safe, that I won't have his corpse brought home to me! I'm tired of not knowing where you are or if you're okay."

Aventurine knew you had every right to be angry, to scream and cry. He just held you in a tight embrace, silently listening as you expressed everything that had built up inside you over the past three days, still repeating how sorry he was for leaving you worried.

Slowly but surely, your anger subsided, leaving only a heavy feeling somewhere in your chest. You were still crying, hiding your face in his chest. But a great weight had been lifted from your shoulders anyway.

"Please, Kakavasha," you felt him flinch at the mention of his name. "Please be careful. I don't know how I will survive without you if something happens. I've almost gone crazy these days, not knowing what to expect."

Aventurine could understand your feelings. The whole time he'd been held hostage, his thoughts were all about you, about how worried you must be, waiting for him to return.

"I won't leave you alone, no matter what, I swear," Aventurine whispered back. "I was blessed to meet you. No way I'd do anything to lose you."

You were still holding him tightly in your arms, trying to calm your racing heart. Oh, Aeons, there was no way you were going to let him get out of your embrace anytime soon.

"I'll take a few days off... A week. We can spend all this time together, alright?" he continued, gently rubbing your back. "Just you and me, doing whatever you like."

As you slightly nodded, he let out a soft sigh. How lucky he was for having you, the only person alive who really cared about him no matter what. And how ungrateful he was for keeping you worried all the time.

"Good. I've been missing you so much."

© do not repost, translate or modify without permission

#hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #aventurine x reader #hsr x you #honkai star rail x you #aventurine x you

[ellecdc]

can i formally request something? (i have no idea if you take smut requests so please ignore me if not😭) a barty x reader smut where everyone already thinks they’re together so they’re like 🤔?? maybe they’re onto something

and maybe if they try to tell people (read regulus) they’re just like -_-¿ this is new

and well done on your exams!! i’m sure you aced them

hahaha omg this is so Barty and reader coded fr. thanks for your request (I hope I did it justice)

Barty Crouch Jr x afab fem!reader who has sex for the first sodding time, Evan

CW: smut - like straight up porn people, p in v intercourse, pussy slapping cuz apparently I'm a freak, soft choking, a slap in the face if you squint, 18+

This conversation had been going on for so long that you were truly fighting the urge to throw your head back and let out a guttural scream out of pure frustration.

But Barty never fought his urges.

“For fuck’s sake!” He screeched. “How many sodding times do you need me to say it: we - are - not - to - geth - er!” He shouted at Evan, emphasising each syllable with a stomp of his foot. 

Evan smirked and shared a look with Dorcas before rolling his eyes.

“Sure. And what exactly is this?” He asked, gesturing with his book at your tangled forms.

Okay, so maybe you and Barty were physically affectionate with each other - but that didn’t mean anything.

“What?” Barty asked simply.

“The way you’re sitting, Junior.” Dorcas drawled in a bored tone.

You both looked at each other like you were only just now realising your proximity to each other. 

You were positioned on the cushion of the sofa between Barty’s thighs with his arms wrapped around you and his hands weaselled under your shirt and tucked under your breasts.

What?

It was for warmth; he has terrible circulation, you know.

“We always sit like this.” You replied.

Evan scoffed. “You always sit like you’re one sneeze away from having his dick slip inside of you?”

“Okay, you know what?” Barty said, slipping his hands out from your shirt and patting your thighs to say ‘get up’, and standing up behind you. “I didn’t come here to be spoken to like this, least of all by someone who has his head shoved so far up his arse that he could check for tonsillitis.”

Evan shut his book he’d been pretending to read up until that point causing Barty to screech and shout at you to ‘save yourself’ as the two of you took off in the direction of his dorm room. 

You were laughing and breathless by the time you made it into Barty’s room and he shut the door behind you, casting a locking charm for good measure should Evan come looking for retribution for the slander.

“Honestly, I think they’re just jealous.” You said breathlessly.

Barty nodded as he sucked in a few deep breaths himself. “I mean, it’s kind of sad he’s never had a best friend that he felt so comfortable with, you know?”

“Exactly!” 

“And I don’t know why everyone has to make it so sexual. Do you have great tits? Sure. But that’s not why I put my hands on them!”

“Of course.” You agreed readily. “And I mean, are we two of the hottest people to walk these fucking halls? Of course we are -”

“Absolutely.”

“- but that doesn’t mean we’re shagging!”

“Right!” Barty said with finality as he finally sat down on the chair at his desk. “I don’t know why they have to make everything so weird.”

“Me either.” You groaned as you fell backwards onto Barty’s bed and stared up at the green velvet bed curtains draped over the four poster bed. “They’re probably just jealous.” You repeated. “I mean, we would make a really hot couple; I’d want to be with us too.”

“You know, that’s exactly what I was just thinking.” Barty agreed quickly. “And if we were having sex, they’d bloody know it. It would be hot.”

“Gods, it really would be, wouldn't it?”

“Without a doubt; I’m great in bed, and you’re great at everything.” Barty said simply, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“You know what.” You said as you sat up to face Barty. “It would be hot. Great sex comes from trust-”

“Check.”

“- communication,”

“Check.”

“Familiarity,”

“Duh.”

“Confidence.”

“Obviously.”

“We’d be sodding lucky to be shagging each other!” You proclaimed.

“I agree!” He responded. 

You both stared at each other; breathing slightly laboured having gotten yourselves so worked up pleading your cases (to no one, seeing as you were both clearly on the same page).

“Huh.” Barty said finally, giving your body a once over. “You know, maybe it is weird we haven’t fucked before.”

“Yeah.”

Your eyes met his green ones that held an intensity you’d not seen from him before.

“Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you wanna fuck?”

“Yeah.”

And like a flip had been switched, the two of you were launching yourselves at each other. 

No time was spent savouring touches or testing waters. It was all teeth clashing, tongues dancing, heavy breathing, and tearing each other’s clothes off.

It felt somehow both forbidden and oh so right.

You’d truly never thought about Barty like this; you really were just that comfortable with one another.

But as you pulled his shirt over his head and started fussing with his belt, a fire roared to life inside you screaming we should have been doing this the whole bloody time. 

You nearly tripped over the waistband of your trousers as Barty backed the two of you towards his bed where he sat on the edge.

You broke apart for air as he moved his sinful mouth down the expanse of your torso and took to marking up your breasts.

“Salazar they’re even better like this.” He murmured to himself before taking one of your nipples in his mouth whilst he pinched the other.

You ran your finger through his hair, an action you'd done many times before, but never like this.

You pulled at it roughly and brought his lips back to yours as you pushed him to lay back on his bed so you could straddle him.

“Merlin, Y/N. No foreplay?” He chuckled breathlessly as you gave his cock a few strokes and whispered a lubrication charm.

“Next time.” You sighed as you lined him up with your entrance and slowly sank down onto his cock, causing the two of you to moan in unison.

“Next time, huh?” Barty teased as he smoothed his hands up and down your sides, allowing the two of you to adjust to the feeling of one another before you experimentally rolled your hips.

“What? Don’t you want to fuck me, Junior?” You taunted right back.

Barty thrusted his hips up roughly into yours, causing you to cry out and place your hands on his shoulders to stabilise yourself. “I think it’s very obvious I want to fuck you.”

“Yeah?” You whispered, bringing your mouth back to his and biting gently on his bottom lip.

“Yeah.”

You breathed a laugh out through your nose before you bit down harder.

“Then fuck me.”

And before you could tell which way was up, Barty had flipped the two of you over so he now hovered over top of you and had his hand wrapped around your neck.

“You want to be fucked, doll?” He groaned as he hooked one of your legs around his hip allowing himself that much deeper in you.

If there was one thing you could thank the fucked up breeding habits of Purebloods for, it was apparently the size of their cocks. 

“You want me to ruin you?” He continued as he added more pressure to your throat, still grinding into your now sopping cunt. “Make sure no other wizard is ever good enough for you?”

Your entire body felt like it was on fire; the feeling when you’re sitting on the poolside in the sun after a swim; the beads of water only make the sun’s rays feel that much warmer against your skin.

“Oi.” He demanded, giving your cheek a chastising tap. “You gonna be good for me?” He asked more seriously this time.

His beautiful green eyes were nearly fully eclipsed by his pupils as he continued moving in and out of you with what you realised now was a very controlled pace. But you were eager to see where he’d go from here.

“I’ll be good.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes.”

“Tell me.” He ordered.

“I’ll be good.”

“What was that?”

“I’ll be good, Barty.” You whined, pulling at his arms in an attempt to bring him closer.

“Who are you going to be good for?”

“You.”

“Yeah?”

You hummed in agreement as he hiked up your other leg and wrapped it around his hip.

“Tell me.”

“I’ll be good for you! Promise. I’ll be so good for you, please.”

Barty chuckled and let out a taunting cooing sound as he fell to his elbows and brought his face to yours.

“There’s no need to beg, sweets.”

And just like that, he was pulling away from you again.

Suddenly, his hands were on your hips and he lifted them into the air, holding them there as he began slamming into you. 

“Gonna be so fucking good for me, aren’t you angel?” He grunted.

You scrunched your eyes shut at the feeling of his throbbing cock pounding into you; adjusting his angle every few thrusts in search of something.

“I bet you’re a fucking screamer, huh? You always got so much to say babygirl; don’t go quiet on me now.”

His fingers dug further into the fat of your hips as he adjusted his grip on you, causing you to let out an embarrassing keening sound.

Apparently that was close, but not quite what Barty had been looking for.

“Close. How about we try…”

And he pulled out of you completely before landing a hard smack against your pussy, forcing a surprised scream to tear from your throat. 

“There’s the pretty sounds I was looking for.” He celebrated, rubbing placating circles on your clit before repositioning himself and sinking back into you. “Think you can keep that up for me, Princess?”

“Yes!” You cried quickly, grabbing helplessly at the bedding as he once again lifted your hips up into the air, finding that sweet spot inside you that he’d been in search of before his interruption.

He knew he found his mark when you let out another strangled sob.

“Alright pretty girl, there we go, huh? Does that feel good?”

You were babbling affirmatives nonsensically as he groaned at the sensation of your walls clenching around him; yesses and pleases spilling from your lips.

“Fuck you feel so good.”

“Please Barty.” You cried, reaching a hand up to his wrist.

He let your hips fall to the bed as he brought one thumb to your clit and his other hand took yours in his.

“What is it, princess? Hm?”

“Please.” You whined, and it sounded pathetic even in your own ears in your current state.

But Barty only tsked and pulled two of your fingers into his mouth which he began to suck.

You could feel the tension building in your core as he quickened his pace with his thumb and his hips before letting your fingers go with a pop.

“I’ll take care of your princess, you know that. When have I ever let you down?”

Never.

“Never.”

He smiled triumphantly down at you; and though his mouth was cocky, his eyes were sincere. 

“Exactly. I’m not about to start now, yeah?”

And suddenly his thumb was gone from your clit, your ankles were thrown over his shoulders and he was leaning his weight against the backs of your thighs as he began thrusting into you with an air of desperation.

“Atta girl; so good, huh? S’good.” He grunted as his thrusts became somewhat sloppy. “S’fuckin’ good for me. Perfect for me, aren’t you?”

“Yes! Yes, yes, yes.” You chanted with each thrust of his hips. “Please, oh gods, please, please Barty.”

“I know, I know.” He grunted, clearly as close to teetering over some sort of edge as you were. “I know, I feel it. You’re alright, yeah? Go on, sweets; I’ve got you.”

And his hands were holding onto your thighs for dear life and he was kissing at your knee like even that silly little part of you was something worthy of worship, and he did have you and he never let you down and he wasn’t going to start now and you saw stars as you finally fell over the edge.

The room fell quiet as Barty locked his lips on yours, and you realised you’d been screaming. 

His hips stuttered as he thrust into you once, twice, three times more before he followed you over the edge; letting your legs fall from his shoulders as he fell to his elbows on top of you and the two of you fought to catch your breath.

In complete contrast to the Barty who was only moments ago pounding mercilessly into you, he started placing, slow, lingering, gentle kisses over your face as his thumbs rubbed idly at your temples.

He pressed a kiss to your neck, your jaw, the tip of your nose, over your eyelids, your forehead, your ear.

You knew Barty could have a soft side, but you never imagined it so tender.

“I knew you’d be a screamer.” He whispered, breaking you out of the serene moment and surprising a bark of laughter from you, which caused both of you to groan in discomfort before Barty slowly pulled out of you. 

“Stay here, princess.” He instructed as he walked away from the bed and returned a few moments later with a warm cloth and one of his (read: your favourite of his) t-shirts.

You watched him carefully as he cleaned you up - and once again, what probably should have felt awkward or embarrassing felt nothing but natural as he doted on you. 

“Can you sit up?” He asked; not one hint of condescension in his tone as he held the neckhole of his shirt open for you to slip your head into.

As it poked through, he pressed a kiss to your lips before helping to thread your arms in.

“Is it safe to assume we’ll be doing that again?” You asked with a smirk, causing him to scoff dramatically. 

“We’ll be doing that the rest of our lives if I have anything to say about it.”

After a shower and a change into comfies, the two of you returned to the common room, and though Dorcas was long gone, Evan could be found where the two of you had left him, now in the company of Regulus. 

“Well boys.” Barty sang dramatically as he swung his legs over the back of the sofa and landed on the seat with a bounce. “We just fucked.”

You rolled your eyes at his blatant goading as you sat beside him.

“Yeah? And I had potions today; so what?” Regulus muttered without looking up from his novel.

“What do you mean so what? This was the first time!” Barty argued.

“This is new.” You insisted severely.

“You know, I always knew Barty was a liar; but I expected better from you, Y/N.”

Your mouth dropped open as Regulus and Evan stood up and walked away from the seating area.

What you didn’t see as they walked towards the Slytherin dungeons was Regulus passing Evan five Galleons for their bet on who could convince the two of you to finally get over your “just friends” bit.

#marauders era #marauders au #marauders fanfiction #reader insert #self insert #barty #barty crouch jr #barty crouch junior #slytherin skittles #the slytherin skittles #smut #barty crouch jr imagine #barty cr #barty crouch jr x reader #Barty Crouch jr x #barty crouch jr x you #barty crouch jr smut #barty crouch jr drabble #barty crouch jr headcanons #barty gate #if you give the fans a barty #they’re going to ask for smut #ellecdc fics

[loganshouseofworship]

Can you do something with Logan that is super angsty? Maybe you two get in a fight over his career and your career? Then both of you realize that you can live without each other and end up getting back together.

Thank you!!

I can’t live without you — Logan Sargent x reader

“I can’t do this anymore Logan,” you said, cramming your clothes into your suitcase.

“Do what? What’s going on?” Logan asked

“Stand by and watch as Williams destroys your career” you said.

“Williams isn’t destroying my career, what are you talking about?” Logan says slightly, raising his voice.

“Yea they are Logan but you're so blinded by your loyalty to the team you can’t see it” you yelled through the tears.

“Wait a minute, you can’t leave!”

“Yes, I can” you said, your voice steady but tears were flowing down your face. “I can’t do this anymore”

“What do you mean you can’t do this anymore!” Logan yelled as you went to slam the door shut, but Logan grabbed the door and stopped it.

“That team is destroying you Logan, it's taking its toll on your mental health. you can’t keep putting yourself through this” you said, as you put a hand on Logan’s arm.

“Williams doesn’t care about you. They used your signing as a PR move to bring in more American formula one fans and you're too blind to see that” you tell him.

“Don’t say that! Williams cares about me! They brought me in, they believed in me!”

“That’s just what they want you to believe. They’re using you…I don't know why I'm wasting my breath. I know you're going to stay. I don't know what I was thinking. I mean you left a team that loved you and cared about you, and now you're throwing it away for a team that's going to drag you through the mud.”

“Stop. Stop saying those things.” Logan said harshly. “I’m not throwing anything away. My loyalty to Williams is what’s been pushing me to do my best and not make a mistake.”

“Keep telling yourself that Logan” you say finally leaving the hotel room.

“No, wait!” Logan yelled into the hallway as you shut the door. You kept walking and didn’t turn around.

“Damnit!” Logan yelled.

“She’ll come back, she’ll come to see that it’s all going to be okay.” Logan muttered to himself.

Hours later, Logan was sitting in front of his laptop in the dark looking at old pictures of them together.

A photo of you two, looking happy came into view.

“Maybe loyalty isn’t the most important thing?” He whispered to himself.

A few weeks have gone by since the Australian Grand Prix since the night you left Logan alone in the hotel room. Logan’s home race was coming up and he wasn’t going to lie he was nervous as all get out.

Logan missed you and he realized that you were right about the team. They didn’t care about him, not like you had. Fans started noticing that Logan was looking more tired and exhausted than before the bags under his had darkened. They looked so dark that it looked like he had black eyes.

Logan’s eyes were red from lack of sleep, from stress, from working nonstop to show the team what he was made of. He looked so worn out, and it was breaking your heart. You knew that he was pushing himself too hard, and it was beginning to take a toll on his mental health, and you just wanted to be there to support him.

The race weekend was approaching, and he was still working late into the night, trying to perfect his setup. Logan’s exhaustion was beginning to show, he looked like a shell of himself. He had lost weight, and his eyes were dark and sunken. The fan base was starting to get worried about him.

You weren’t doing much better yourself. You were worried sick about him, every day. You’d lost weight, you could barely sleep because all you did was worry and think about him.

Your friends tried to comfort you, but you weren’t listening to anyone, you were focused on one thing, on getting him back.

You would spend all night and day looking for flight deals online, trying to find a way to get home and see him again. But every time you looked, they were all sold out. It felt like the universe was against you, but really it just wanted you to wait a little bit longer, to wait until the right time to reunite you.

You would constantly check the calendar, seeing how many days there were left before you could get on a flight and see him again.

Time was passing so slowly, and it felt like it was never going to end. But then finally, the day came when your flight was confirmed, and you were on your way back.

You were just hours away from seeing him again, but the feeling of relief and anxiety were equally strong. You knew you wanted to see him, but at the same time, a part of you was scared of what he would say, or that he might have moved on.

You landed in the US, and you could barely contain your emotions, you were nervous and excited, and a million other things at the same time, as you got to your car. You just wanted to get to the hotel and see him as soon as possible, but at the end of the day, you also wanted to get it right, to do this the right way.

Your stomach was in knots as you pulled into the hotel, and you felt your heart racing. You couldn't believe you were actually doing this, you couldn't believe you were actually back in the US.

You took a deep breath, and walked through the doors into the hotel, up to his room.

You stopped in front of the room, taking a moment to collect yourself before knocking on the door.

After what felt like an eternity, he opened the door. Logan’s face had gone pale, and the stress and exhaustion that had been weighing on him disappeared.

“What are you doing here?” He asked, his mouth was dry, and he could barely get the words out.

“I had to see you, I had to come back” you replied, trying to get the words out.

He opened the door wider, inviting you in, you slowly walked past him, and he could feel the tension in the air.

“I’ve missed you” Logan whispered, his heart began to beat faster and faster, he was overcome with emotion, and he pulled you into a tight embrace.

“I’ve missed you too” you whisper, wrapping your arms around his neck, and burying your head into his chest.

He pulls you even closer to him, not letting you go.

The air felt thick between the two of you, neither wanted to break the embrace, neither wanted to talk, neither wanted anything more than to feel close to each other again.

Finally, after a long moment, he broke the embrace and stepped back, wiping his eyes, he had almost cried right then and there.

“I’m-I’m so sorry” he said, unable to stop the words from pouring out.

“For what? “ You asked, you had no idea what he was apologizing for. All you knew was that you wanted to be in his arms again.

“I know I’ve been distant recently, and I haven’t been there for you” he said, taking your hands in his. He stared into your eyes, as if he was trying to memorize every inch of your face.

“I just…” he began, but choked up, unable to find the right words. His lips trembled, his face twisted in regret and guilt.

“Just what?” You asked gently, trying to understand what was going on.

“You were right, my loyalty to the team has taken everything from me”. He said, his voice cracking as he fought back the tears.

“What do you mean?” You asked, he was starting to not make sense, was he just tired, it must be that, because you had no idea where this was coming from.

“You were right about the team, you said that they didn’t care about me, that they were using me as a PR move. And I tried to deny it, I tried to deny everything you said, but it’s all true…”

“I’ve pushed myself to the point of mental exhaustion, and all for what, I’ve been so blind thinking that I needed to do this, but the truth is I don’t, I don’t need Williams, I need you…” He said, staring back at you.

“Do you need me?” You said, his words caught you off guard. The reality was hitting you, he needed you, he didn’t need the team. He needed you.

“Without you, I’m lost” he said finally, admitting it out loud, he took a deep breath. “I’ve been so worried about losing Williams, and I should have been worried about losing you.”

“I need you Logan , I've missed you so much” you said, tears now spilling down your face.

“I’ve missed you too” he said, wrapping his arms around you once again. You could feel the tension in the air subside, and the stress that had been weighing on you both disappeared. It felt almost as if you’d never been apart.

His grip tightened around you, not wanting to let you go, like he needed to hold you just a little bit longer. You could feel him taking deep breaths and his heartbeat steady. It was like he needed the two of you to be as close as possible for a minute, as if he needed to make up for lost time.

“I’m never letting you leave again” he said softly, tightening his grip once again. You could feel his heart rate settle, and you could feel the tension ease even greater. It felt like home.

@a-casual-romantic @amatswimming @bblouifford @bbtoni @jinx53 @jeffs77 @toasttt11 @hrts4scarr @faithshouseofchaos @vellicora

#logan sargeant #williams racing #formula 1 #formula one #logan sargent fluff #logan sargeant fluff #logan sargent x reader #logan sargeant imagine #logan sargeant x reader #logan sargent #logan sargeant x you #logie bear #formula one x y/n #formula one x you #formula one fluff #formula one x reader #formula one oneshot #formula one angst #f1 x y/n #williams f1 #f1 x you #f1 x reader #f1 fic #f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x female driver #f1 x female reader #f1 x oc #formula one imagine

[little-pondhead]

Your Ancient History, Written In Wax

-

Danny knew he should have put better security around the Sarcophagus of Eternal Sleep. It wasn’t even Vlad who opened it this time! The fruitloop was too busy doing his actual mayor duties because for some godforsaken reason, the man got re-elected.

No, it wasn’t Vlad. And it wasn’t Fright Knight, either. Nor the Observants. Who opened the Sarcophagus, then? Danny didn’t have time to find out as Pariah Dark promptly tore open a hole in reality and hunting Danny down.

The battle was longer this time. He didn’t have the Ecto-Skeleton, as that was the first thing Pariah had destroyed. The halfa had grown a lot over the past few years, and learned some new tricks, but apparently sleeping in a magic ghost box meant that Pariah had absorbed a lot of power. The bigger ghost acted like a one-man army!

Amity Park was caught in the middle of the battle, but the residents made sure it went no further than that. Vlad and the Fentons made a barrier around the town to keep the destruction from leaking. Sam, Tucker, and Dani did crowd control while Danny faced the king head-on.

Their battle shook the Zone and pulled them wildly between the mortal plane and the afterlife. Sometimes, residents noticed a blow from Pariah transported them to the age of the dinosaurs, and Phantom’s Wail brought them to an unknown future. Then they were in a desert. Then a blazing forest. Then underwater. It went on like that, but no one dared step foot outside of Amity. They couldn’t risk being left behind.

It took ages to beat him, but eventually, Danny stood above the old ghost king, encasing his symbols of power in ice so they couldn’t be used again. He refused to claim the title for himself. Tired as he was, Danny handed the objects off to Clockwork for safe keeping and started repairing the damage Pariah had done to the town. The tear he’d made was too big to fix, for now, so no one bothered. They just welcomed their new ghostly neighbors with open arms and worked together to restore Amity Park.

Finally, the day came to bring down the barrier. People were gathered around the giant device the Fentons had built to sustain it. Danny had brought Clockwork to Amity, to double check that they had returned to the right time and dimension.

Clockwork assured everyone that they were in the right spot, and only a small amount of time had passed, so the Fentons gave the signal to drop the shield.

Very quickly did they discover that something was wrong. The air smelled different. The noise of the nearby city, Elmerton, was louder and more chaotic. Something was there that wasn’t before, and it put everyone on edge.

Clockwork smiled, made a remark about the town fitting in better than before, and disappearing before Danny could catch him.

Frantic, Danny had a few of his ghost buds stay behind to protect the town while he investigated.

He flew far and wide, steadily growing horrified at the changes the world had undergone. Heroes, villains, rampant crime and alien invasions. The Earth was unrecognizable. There were people moving around the stars like it was second nature and others raising dead gods like the apocalypse was coming. Magic and ectoplasm was everywhere, rather than following the ley lines like they were supposed to.

Danny returned to Amity.

The fight with Pariah had taken them through space and time. Somewhere along the way, they had changed the course of history so badly that this now felt like an alien world.

How was he supposed to fix this?

-

In the Watchtower, The Flash was wrapping up monitor duty while Impulse buzzed around him, a little more jittery than usual. The boy was talking a mile a minute, when alarms started blaring an alarming green. Flash had never seen this alarm before, and its crackling whine was grating on his ears.

Flash returned to the monitor, frantically clicking around to find the issue, but nothing was popping up. No major disasters, no invasions, no declarations of war. Nothing! What was causing the alarm?

Impulse swore and zipped to a window, pressing his face against it and staring down at Earth. “Fuck! It’s today isn’t it? I forgot!”

“What’s today?” Flash asked. He shot off a text to Batman, asking if it was an error. The big Bat said it wasn’t, and that he would be there soon.

“The arrival of Amity Park. I learned about this in school; the alarm always gives me headaches.”

Flash turned to his grandson, getting his attention. “Bart,” he stressed. “What are you talking about?”

Impulse barely glanced over his shoulder. Now that Flash was facing him, he could see a strong glow coming from Earth. “The first villain, first anti-villain, and the first hero,” he said anxiously. “They all protect the town of the original metas. They’re all here.”

“Here? Now??”

“Yeah? They weren’t before, but they are now. The first hero said there was time stuff involved, which was what inspired me to start practicing time travel in the first place.”

“I’m not following.”

“It’s okay. We should probably go welcome them before they tear apart Illinois, though. The history I remember says that some of them freaked and destroyed a chunk of the Midwest during a fight with each other.”

“WHAT?”

#dpxdc #pondhead blurbs #liminal amity park #I’ve seen stuff like this in the mhaxdp fandom and I eat it up every time #basically the fight with Pariah caused the town to jump through time a little #and while they THOUGHT they were keeping everything in #shit leaked out and tainted those points in time #so technically #historically and genetically speaking #Amity Park is the origin point for the meta gene and Danny made history as the first hero #because Clockwork is a little shit #everyone embodies a basic ability and it has grown from there #the flash family are direct descendants of Dani (speed force Dani for the win) #Dash is the reason super strength exists #so on and so forth #go buck wild #bart learned about it briefly in history class in the 30th century #practically hero worships them #booster gold knows about them too but in contrast to Bart’s excitement #booster is fucking terrified because there was a period where Amity Park rebelled against the US government #and he’s from that specific time #he learned to fear phantom because he lived during that part while Bart is from farther in the future when those issues got resolved #guess who’s chosen to welcome the town? >:) #if you’re wondering what happened to the GIW #they turned into the branch Amanda Waller runs #Danny is the first hero #Vlad the first villain #and Dani the first anti hero #there’s an arc where Danny is trying to fix things but clockwork won’t let him into the timestream and all the heroes are horrified #because yeah Danny is the OG but if he goes back in time to fix his ‘mistake’ what will happen to them?

[icallhimjoey]

Reinvent Love

♥ ♥          Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader 

Summary: You and Joe are treading new waters. You’re no longer flatmates, but still close. More than friends, but nothing defined. Nothing labeled. Determined to not lose what you have, though. But, can you?

CW / disclaimer: rpf, fem!reader, language, adult themes, jealousy, accusations, soft fluff, season 3 of my flatmate!joe

Author’s note: we got trouble in paradise !!!!! same sidenote once more: you don’t need to have read define close or explain us, but it’ll obviously give you backstory, which might help!

Wordcount: 3.8K

part one - part two - part three - part four - part five

Excruciating, if he thought about it too long. Fine, if he just sucked it up and went with it. If he didn’t spend hours and hours and hours of his time stuck inside his own head, it was fine.

Your pace.

He was going to have to go with your pace.

If Joe was going to win this... contest he was having, mainly with himself, he was going to have to stick to your pace. Like he had done before. And yea, it was slow. Maybe even stagnant most days. But he had always let you take the lead and had always let you find new normals between the two of you.

It had worked like that when you lived together, and it was going to have to work like that now that you no longer did.

Was it awful?

Yes.

Because in which direction were you even moving? Joe had no idea. You might as well have been going backwards, there was no way for him to tell, and it was eating Joe alive. But he was just going to have to deal with it.

Your lead. Your time. Your pace.

With your new flatmate, your inside-the-flat behaviour had drastically changed. What was once the exact location of all the intimacy was slowly turning into a place that resembled outside. Where strangers were (Josh). Where people could perceive you (Josh).  

The safety was gone, a little.

When you stirred awake after falling asleep on your sofa, and Joe was still sat by your feet, casually holding onto an ankle still, the first few seconds of seeing him there made you smile. He was watching TV, which was showing something you hadn’t put on, and the changing lights that illuminated him gave you a good look at his profile. At the curve of his nose. At his slightly parted lips. His tongue working along his teeth. Along the inside of his cheek.

God, he looked fucking perfect.

Even with his hair too short and unstyled.

Even with his tongue pushing his face into weird expressions.

You got to wake up slow, felt like you’d been out for over an hour, easily, and loved the little fragment you got of how things used to be. Just the two of you on the sofa. TV on. Soft touches. No one else there to make it weird. To ask questions. To give looks.

Just closeness and gentle affection, a touch of protectiveness as you were being held by the ankle as you’d napped.

But then you heard a kitchen drawer close behind you, and you immediately balled up in a knee-jerk response. You pulled your feet right from Joe’s lap as you tucked in your knees. Ripped your ankle right from his grasp.

And it was silly.

It was just your feet.

Josh likely would’ve seen them on Joe’s lap already.

He would have had to have let Joe in too. You remembered the key you had meant to slip back into his coat pocket but had forgotten about.

All Josh really knew about Joe was that he used to live in the flat, and that you still remained good mates. Close friends. Sort of flatmates still, but not, because, location.

You had gone through every which way of describing you and Joe whilst trying to remain an air of casualness.

Yea, Joe would still come over a lot, since you were friends, you know? Normal stuff.

But then your friend had gone, “Ha. Yea, all right. Good mates. That’s one way of describing it.” Like she’d known anything – she didn’t.

She had no idea.

Not a clue.

She couldn’t have, because you and Joe weren’t like you and Joe were around others.

You didn’t blame her, but you’d quickly changed the subject anyway. Swiftly moved onto a different topic. Asked Josh if he liked pizza, because you had pizza a lot in this flat. Josh did like pizza. But, only without any cheese on. “I’m vegan.” You didn’t think that technically even counted as pizza. But, sure.

It was just your feet.

And it was just Josh in the kitchen, likely not even paying attention to where your feet were.

You realised it a second too late though. Your knees had already been tucked in, and Joe’s face had already fallen. You could see how his eyes darted from you to your new flatmate over the back of the sofa a few times.

In a bid to save yourself, to save the situation, you straightened your legs again and pushed both feet into Joe’s thigh. Masked it as a tired post-nap stretch and smiled through a yawn, doing your best to move on as quickly as you could.

Unbeknownst to you, there had been some quiet conversation going between Joe and Josh. Soft spoken words, no louder than the TV, but not quite whispers either. Voices hushed and kept low because, she’s asleep. And she’d come home and looked like her Friday had lasted a whole month, Josh had chuckled as he picked up the empty pizza box, tidying up.

Joe had scrunched up his eyebrows and couldn’t help his little pout as he’d cast his eyes down to look at you.

“Yea, the pizza sort of gave it away.” He’d said, and for a moment, Josh’s mind swam as it tried to make sense of what Joe’d just said.

And Joe saw, but he didn’t really want to explain it. Didn’t want to tell him that, pizza sort of meant a lot. It was just food, and not even your or his favourite, but there was comfort and routine and pizza sort of belonged to the two of you.

Pizza was yours.

Josh didn’t need to know that.

“Oh, no, this was mine – I had this.”

And, oh, my God, Joe could really fucking kick himself for thinking the worst.

In casual chat, Joe puzzled it together. You’d gotten home. Seemed annoyed. Tired. Overall just in a terrible mood. And Josh had offered you a bite of his pizza – the one he was already eating when you’d walked in. And you’d looked at it for a second and then had gone, “Not hungry. Thank you though.”

Joe was the worst.

He watched you sleep and you looked so peaceful. So soft. He was the actual worst person ever. Drawing conclusions where there wasn’t even anything to be drawn in the first place.

Joe watched you as Josh quietly cleaned the kitchen. Listened as he complained about not being able to open the window in his ensuite, how it would get stuck all the time, and asked if Joe knew anything about that. Joe didn’t tear his eyes away from you as he said, “Yea, she was meant to get that fixed, but ended up just opening the bedroom window to air the room out.”

Your cheeks were slightly blushed, and you sounded a little congested. Joe could hear your breath rumble a bit, like it was getting stuck in your chest. Start of a cold, maybe, he thought, and he knew that it was probably one more thing that had added to all the bad today. All the bad that had made you text him to come over.

To fix it.

And he fucking loved fixing it.

Joe wanted to make you tea and feed you soup and stick you into one of his hoodies. Stuff your hot water bottle into the pocket for good measure. Hold you close to his chest where, sometimes, if he held you there for long enough, you’d suddenly cry. You would sob without explanation, bury your face into his neck, and it was weird but Joe would fucking glow on the inside from the knowledge that you deemed Joe safe enough to get your tears out.

God, he was so fucking gone for you.

Loved you.

Loved you loved you.

Did he not want you to have a nice flatmate? Did he want you to have one that didn’t offer you pizza after a long, rough day? Was he really that terrible of a human being?

No.

He did want you to live with a nice person. One that did offer you pizza after a long, rough day.

It just upset him that it wasn’t him.

He wanted to be the nice flatmate.

Like he had been.

Well.

Fucked that up all by himself, didn’t he?

Joe had to remind himself of all the reasons why he made those personal choices. And the plan had been working. It truly had been. But then you’d just pulled your feet from his lap because Josh was there and... were you embarrassed of him? Was that what this boiled down to?

You pushed your feet into Joe’s leg as you stretched and yawned, and Joe waited for Josh to walk out of the room to tap you just above the knee. To squeeze you there.

You looked up and around, just to make sure you were alone, before you held out your hand that Joe then grabbed hold off. He pulled until you sat up and then, in a rogue move that he didn’t see coming, you leant in to kiss him.

Josh was just down the hall, door wide open.

And you kissed him.

Surprise.

Not moving backwards, then.

It was only short. Just a quick small little thing, but it was lips against lips, and it startled Joe so much, he couldn’t even think to be quiet about it. To not let his lips smack the way they naturally would when giving someone a kiss.

If that bothered you, you didn’t show it, mind too sluggish to catch up to what was happening maybe, and Joe grinned as he softly said, “Hi.” after you broke apart.

“I’m sorry.” was the first thing out of your mouth. You meant for texting him to come over and then promptly falling asleep on the sofa before he had even made his way over. You hadn’t meant to do that.

Joe heard your apology and took it to mean, sorry for the hard flinch away from him, which seemed silly now. You had just gone and kissed him. There was hardly anything left to be sorry for now, was there?

Joe had taken a step forward by being casually intimate with you in front of a stranger - held your feet in front of Josh - and, at first, you had shied away, only to then meet him there on your own terms a second later - be casually intimate with Joe with Josh just in the other room.

A new normal.

Your pace.

It went like that for a while then.

Joe would take your whole hand without asking, only for you to snatch it back and then give him a finger.

Which was fine.

Made Joe secretly smile every time it happened. He started being able to predict it a little too. Knew that if he’d overshoot, he’d end up with what he wanted in the first place too. Which, if you zoomed in on that a lot, could be classified as manipulation.

But you were happy.

So it was fine.

You were trying and so was Joe.

You were trying when, a couple of days later, you found yourself in a pub with Joe and a couple of his friends and he’d convinced you to just get a quick drink, just the one, and yea, that was okay. You could have a drink with Joe’s friends. They were kind, fun people.

You ended up meeting everyone outside, and after a round of greeting, you offered to go get drinks inside. When you came back to join the group, Joe had sat down on a barstool and you went to stand beside him. Handed him his drink. Cheersed him before you went for a sip. And then you felt his hand curl around your hip.

You tried the whole time.

Blushed the whole time too.

You couldn’t hold his hand as you walked home from the pub after that one drink.

But you could accept his scarf getting draped around your neck when he noticed you were cold.

And you were also trying when the two of you were on the tube together, and Joe had spotted someone subtly point their phone at him. Instead of acting like he was alone, like he was just out and about on his own for a second, he sat forward a little and moved his arm to touch your opposite outer thigh. It was meant to be protective, and it did shield you from having your picture taken, but it took a lot for you to not move his arm away and get up to stand near the doors where you could pretend you didn’t even know who he was.

You couldn’t turn around on the escalator to look at him after.

But you could accept the hand on your lower back as Joe guided you towards the exit of the busy station.

You were trying. Actively trying. And it felt like agony if you thought about it for too long. But it was fine if you just sucked it up and went with it.

Joe tried too.

Joe tried his best to be normal about you going out with Josh and some of his friends. Just told you to have a good time. To call him when you got home.

Joe tried his best to be normal when you told him Josh really wanted a dog, and maybe that would actually be so fun, wouldn’t it? You would go to pick out one with Josh, because if it was going to live at the flat, you would have to get along with it too, and wasn’t that smart thinking? Joe had to remind himself that you weren’t getting a dog together, but, that was sort of exactly what was happening, wasn’t it?

And Joe tried his bestest best to be normal when after being buzzed up into your flat, he found your front door left open for him to make his way in by himself, because you were too busy in the living room where Josh was playing guitar and making you laugh by singing about what you were doing and trying to make things rhyme. And then Joe had to try even harder when the song quickly turned into rhymes that made fun of him, which only made you laugh louder.

Yea.

Josh was a nice guy.

But, fuck Josh.

After hearing the giggles Josh was able to pull out of you, Joe became determined to let Josh hear what other noises Joe was able pull out of you.

And for a little while, you relished the attention. Joe had learnt a thing or two about what you liked in bed by now, and he knew how to drag it out for maximum pleasure too.

Joe had laid you down on your own bed, spread you out and undressed you real slow. When you’d gone to grab the hem of his T-shirt, he’d taken hold of your hand and brought it up to his mouth to kiss it.

Just you, then.

All about you.

Which was... you weren’t going to lie, this was fucking fantastic.

But it became a little weird how Joe kept turning his head to look at your closed bedroom door every time you let a moan slip out.

It became a little weird how he kept softly instructing you to be louder for him.

“Come on, let me hear you.”

It didn’t feel wildly out of place, but... something felt a little off about it.

You didn’t mention it until afterwards, when you were sat with your backs against the headboard, and you could see how it lingered on his face; something was off.

“Hey...”

Joe was quick to turn his head to look at you, and he immediately smiled to hide whatever you knew was brewing underneath the surface.

“Hey.”

“Are you okay?” you tried to hide your worry with warmth, which was silly, because Joe’d already seen it.

Joe lifted his arm to throw around your shoulder and pulled you into his side, warm sticky skin to warm sticky skin, and he kissed you on your hairline before casually answering, “Yea, of course.”

And you knew he was lying, but you kept quiet. Silently played with the folds of your duvet over your lap and waited until, finally, you heard Joe sigh.

“Promise not to make fun of me,” Joe started, to which you didn’t respond with words, but instead found the hand that wasn’t curled around your shoulder and intertwined your fingers with his.

Joe took a moment to find the right words.

“But...”

The silence gave your brain time to panic. A million things went through your mind. Every single little thing you’d done that could’ve maybe upset him.

Something was wrong, and you were the problem, because you had definitely fucked up, hadn’t you?

What had you done?

The key.

Fuck.

You kept forgetting about his key. It was there on your dresser. You could get out of bed and give it to him right now if that was–

“I don’t like that there’s a guy in your bedroom.”

And...

Oh.

Was he... was he being serious?

You moved away from him a little to get a proper good look at his face, and followed his gaze to see he was looking at your bedroom door again.

And... oh, God.

You didn’t like that.

That left a weird taste in your mouth.

Made you frown at him. Made you grimace a little.

You understood what he meant. But Jesus fucking Christ.

“Joe...” you started, moving even further from him, sitting up properly now.

“No, I know... I know,” he sighed, lifting both hands that he then dropped into his lap as he made a stupid face. “It’s stupid.”

Which was exactly right.

Joe was being stupid.

Joe had moved out and had forced you to get a new flatmate and now he was being a real child about it. Was calling your former bedroom your bedroom still, which it wasn’t. Was calling your flatmate ‘a guy’, like he was some random dude, which he wasn’t.

“Josh is my flatmate,” you said, trying to make the point that it was normal for him to be in the flat with you.

And then Joe felt it.

Joe felt whatever was inside of his chest, that stupid dark little monster that had been bouncing around in there all night, he felt it crawl up into his throat. Into his voice box.

It was too quick, the reaction too fast.

Joe knew the words were unfair and undeserved and ridiculously accusatory without any real legs to stand on.

Joe heard himself say it. Heard himself snap the words, and they were out of his mouth before he could even begin to try to stop them from even being formed at all.

“Yea exactly.”

That green fucking monster.

Joe saw how your face dropped. Saw the disbelief and the confusion. The did-he-really-just wheels turning behind your eyes that slowly clicked into their yea-he-did slots.

You knew what Joe meant, but desperately tried to find the humour in Joe’s face, because surely, he must have been joking.

It wasn’t a funny joke.

And then, you realised it wasn’t a joke at all.

Joe didn’t smile or laugh. Just looked at you, expression slightly stern but otherwise blank, and holy fucking shit.

No.

You remained calm.

Wanted to fucking scream at him, yell, “What do you think you’re accusing me of exactly?!” and, “Please say that again, but slower, will you?!” but, you didn’t.

Instead you turned around and slowly got out of bed, taking one of your pillows with you.

“No, baby, wait,”

Baby.

“I’m sorry, that’s not what I– I didn’t mean it like that. That came out wrong,” Joe rambled, but you slowly stalked towards the door.

“I’m just,” Joe rubbed an anxious hand across his forehead. “God, I... I don’t know.”

Jealous.

He couldn’t even say it.

But that was okay. You heard him loud and clear, anyway.

“Please come back to bed.”

You reached for the door handle and had already decided you weren’t going to come back to bed. You’d sleep on the sofa and Joe was going to have to think about what he’d just said.

Just before you stepped out, you turned your head over your shoulder and looked at him.

Joe.

Sat in your bed in his old bedroom, chest bared, leaning forward into his own lap like he’d been reaching out for you as you’d taken the four steps it took to get to your door.

And it was the cruelest thing in the whole fucking world to realise right then and there that you... shit.

You fucking loved him.

What he said had hurt, but what he hadn’t said hurt worse. The silent, I know what you are like as a flatmate because I have lived it and now you have another one, rung loud in your ears, and you understood right then that the only reason it felt like your heart was bleeding was because you loved him.

Fuck.

You opened the door without looking, but then heard the soft sounds of an acoustic guitar being played in the living room, and looked towards where it came from.

“Baby,” Joe tried one last time, and one of your hands shot up in warning. He had to stop calling you baby. Had to stop talking all together.

“I’m sorry.” Joe apologised again, voice much softer, much more sincere this time, and you only thought of how Joe wasn’t allowed to be the cause of your pain. Had he not learnt from the past? Had he not listened to you then?

You looked back towards Joe, who was about to open his mouth again to say more apologetic words, you were sure, but you stopped him before he could.

“Joe,” you warned again, but stepped into the hallway anyway, reaching for the door handle on the other side to close it.

Just before you did, you made direct eye-contact with a man who knew he had said the wrong thing at the wrong time, but you just needed him to know extra well.

So you dropped your shoulders and said, “You’re the guy in my bedroom.” before you shut the door.

Joe didn’t move.

Just stared at the wooden panels of the door.

And shit...

You were right.

He was the guy in your bedroom, and why the fuck was he even thinking about anything else?

What else was more important?

Joe had to really force himself to not go after you. You left because you wanted space from him and he didn’t really have any other choice but to take your lead on this one, did he?

Your lead.

Your time.

Your pace.

Fuck.

---

The Taglisted

@ali-in-w0nderland, @alwayslindie, @babybluebex, @capricornrisingsstuff, @chaoticgood-munson,

@choke-me-eddie, @demonsanddemogorgons, @did-it-work, @dirtyeddietini, @djoseph-quinn,

@dolcevit4, @eddies-puppet, @emma-munson, @emotionaldreamer, @everythinghasafacee,

@figmentofquinn, @ghost-proofbaby, @ghostinthebackofyourhead, @hanahkatexo, @harringtonfan4,

@hazelenys, @jewellethief, @joesquinns, @keikoraven, @kennedy-brooke,

@lovelyblueness, @manda-panda-monium, @mandyjo8719, @mexicanfolklore, @munsonluvrr,

@munson-mjstan, @nadixq, @nglharry, @notverywise, @pepperstories,

@phyllosilicate-s, @royale1803, @sherrylyn628, @sidthedollface2, @solzi1420,

@songforeddiemunson, @sweetberry47, @take-everything-you-can, @thebellenouvelle, @tlclick73,

@werepartnersnow, @winterwakesthewolf, @witchwolflea, @yelyahcardella, @yunirgo

taglist currently full, sorry

#Joseph Quinn #Joe Quinn #Joseph Quinn x You #Joe Quinn x You #Joseph Quinn x Reader #Joe Quinn x Reader #Joe Quinn Fanfic #Joe Quinn fanfiction #Joseph Quinn Fanfic #Joseph Quinn Fanfiction #joe quinn x y/n #joseph quinn x y/n #icallhimjoey #define close #explain us #reinvent love

[tetragonia]

In Sync

Rafe Cameron x F!Pogue!Reader

warning: 18+, smut, consensual sex, unprotected, foreplay, virgin reader (implied?), and yeah it's just all that. also no mention of (y/n)

words: 1k

note: this is a continuation from this fic where Rafe and reader were in an enemies-to-lovers situation, but you can read this fic separately since it's just them doing it for the first time after getting together

A Wave of Feelings (pt 1) | In Sync (pt 2)

You would laugh at yourself a month ago for the current situation.

You, a Pogue, slept with a Kook? And let alone the Rafe Cameron? The one who used to yell and throw remarks at you? The one who always got into a heated argument with you? 

You couldn’t even bear to be in the same room with him and look at yourself now.

Laying down beside him, making out for the first time since twenty minutes ago with the blond. You could feel Rafe’s strong arms, how big and sturdy it was. You could smell his cologne, a perfect mixture of earthy vetiver, refreshing citrus notes, and salty sea breeze. It evoked the rugged beauty of Rafe, how reckless and impulsive he’d be, but also passionate and vulnerable.

You trembled at his touch, as Rafe kissed you harder. Your hand naturally, slowly reaching down, tracing his lower abdomen and making him twitch under your touch. You could hear a soft grunt coming from his lips, his breath becoming heavier. Your hand slipped under his pants, stroking slowly. Rafe let out a soft groan in pleasure, his hand gently petting the swell of your breast.

You gasped at the sudden pleasure. Butterflies washed your belly and you whimpered at the sensation of it. Desire flooded both of you that night.

“Oh, you stroke better than myself, Princess,” he said with a huff, before moaning louder because you felt the urge to stroke harder and faster. “You’re so good, Princess. Don’t stop.”

Rafe breathed heavily, kissing you harder. He bit your lips, touching his forehead on yours. “Oh, fuck. You’re so good,” he shuddered. 

You stroke him hard and constantly, wiggling beside him. In between kisses, you couldn’t help but to moan as Rafe’s strong fingers brushed your nipple.

“I’m so close, Princess.”

It was not your first time together, but you always shuddered from the sensation. It felt warm on your hand, dripping to your wrist. You smiled when Rafe put half of his weight on her, panting. 

“You’re so good,” he whispered before pushing you gently to the bed. He now towered over you, fully stripped of his pants. His hands softly helped Val to undo her shirt, throwing it to the floor as they don’t need it anymore for now.

You started to breathe heavily as adrenaline took you. 

Slowly, Rafe got down, kissing your breast and closed his mouth around a nipple. His tongue swirled around yours, gently biting and sucking it. You gasped and shut your eyes tightly, fingers crawling Rafe’s bare shoulder.

“Rafe!”

You couldn’t help but cry his name. It was insane. He was insane.

“Yes, Princess?”

Rafe’s right hand traced your chest and belly and you shivered. He continued, finding a soft spot on your clit and rubbing it softly.

“Don’t stop,” you whispered, unable to let out a full word. You tried so hard not to scream, biting your lower lip as he worked faster.

“Yeah? Do you like it?” Rafe asked, kissing your jaw and then your neck. He buried his face on the crook of your neck, moaning your name softly, “Gosh, you’re so wet, Princess.”

And it just flooded, you were down all over him. Bad.

“Good girl,” Rafe smiled, kissing your lips gently before he got up and spread your legs. He let you breath out first, letting out a whimper and a pleasure moan.

“You’re so beautiful,” he continued. He left you speechless.

You could see his handsome features from the dim light. Rafe exhaled, taking the view. You laid naked in front of him–under him. 

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” he said in disbelief. “How did I miss this? How did I throw arguments when I could’ve just thrown myself at you?”

You chuckled, feeling the same. These past years, all you and Rafe exchanged were arguments and hatred. How you hated him so much, so much that you only thought of him. How you both eventually found each other in ways you couldn’t explain. How deep your connection actually was.

Rafe touched his cock, rubbing it slowly with his saliva. You gulped.

“It’s huge, Rafe,” you let out a shaky breath when Rafe put himself between your thighs. He started to caress yours with his fingers, before he brushed your fold with his tip softly. 

You moaned, “Rafe–”

“It’s going to hurt a little,” he said softly, as gentle as he could. “Tell me if you want to stop.”

Then Rafe pushed it gently, slowly letting himself relax inside her. The anticipation made you squirm and held the sheet tightly, suppressing another whimper.

“Rafe!” a moan slipped out of your mouth, screaming his name in pleasure and pain. “I have never taken anyone before.”

Your eyes were shut, back arching.

“Eyes on me, Princess.”

You tried to open your eyes, looking directly at him. Shivers went down your spine, it felt so good.

“Oh, you’re so tight,” Rafe let out a soft grunt as he started to hump his hips towards yours. His hands were everywhere, you were not surprised anymore.

Rafe can be rough, but this time he was very gentle.

“Yes,” you gasped. “Don’t stop. Please. Please.”

Rafe lowered his body, still humping. His mouth searched for your nipple, as he licked and swirled it softly. Rafe kept sucking, biting and leaving red marks on it. Chills ran down your spine when he humped faster.

“Yeah? Do you like it, baby?” Rafe asked you as you tried to take his hard cock.  You closed her eyes in pleasure, still unable to answer.

“Answer me, Princess.”

“Y–Yes, please,” you pleaded. He was so good. You clenched around his cock, and another groan slipped from him. He’d be surprised how your bones didn’t break with your back arching high like that.

“You’re so wet for me, Princess. You’re so good,” he kept reassuring you as your head spinned with pleasure and desire. You both moved in sync, as you could feel his cock twitched hard inside you.

“Oh, I’m going to come,” his voice was deep and breathless, as he spurted on the bare skin of your stomach. Rafe moaned, loud, losing breath. He jerked and it spread all over your tummy, some was on the sheet. It was intense and addicting.

“Oh, fuck. Orgasm never felt this good,” Rafe lost himself in pleasure, shutting his eyes before bending down and kissing your lips. “You’re such a good girl.”

You smiled. “I wish we’d be fucking instead of fighting all those times.”

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Regardless of Perfection: An Adrinette Fic, featuring Félix 4.5K Words; Rated G for General Audiences

Adrien is dumbfounded. His knee is glued to the floor and his hands poised in front of him, as still and unmoving as his heart, stopped in his chest and aching as it fails to function. He can feel the eyes of every patron in the restaurant, staring with the same shock and confusion he feels.

“No?” he manages to squeak out, not even believing the word as it leaves his lips.

But Marinette has aggressively slammed the velvet box closed. Her face is already pink, hastily turning red, and Adrien can see tears in her eyes as she shoves his hands away with so much aggression that she near topples him over.

“Don’t—” she manages to say, and, “You can’t—” but she can’t seem to find words anymore easily than he can. She stands up and runs from the restaurant, linen napkin falling to the floor.

Adrien is only vaguely aware of the waiter helping him stand, a murmured apology as he’s settled back into his seat. A bottle of wine is placed in front of him, “Condolences from the guests over there,” but Adrien doesn’t even see the gesture, doesn’t know who to thank for the wine he’s meant to drown his heartbreak in. The waiter clears Marinette’s plate and glass without a word.

Adrien had planned tonight perfectly—at least, he thought he had. Everything about today had gone so right, like Ladybug’s own Lucky Charm had made it happen. He and Marinette had seen a movie together that afternoon, had a lovely walk along the Seine, and then she’d gone home to put on a brand new dress for their dinner on the Eiffel Tower. Adrien Agreste, even famous as he was, had waited months for this reservation to come up. Even though he’d carried the ring on him for the last several weeks—just in case the moment felt right—he’d known that this was the plan. That tonight was going to be the night. It was truly perfect.

He’d carefully steered the conversation over dinner to their future together, to the plans they’d talked about over the years amidst dreamy sighs and giggles. She’d seemed excited—had he misread her entirely? He didn’t think so. He’d known Marinette for nearly a decade. Surely he knew the difference between excitement and panic and he was sure that she had been excited—nervous, maybe, because of course she must have guessed how special today was—but he hadn’t seen any panic in her, not until the moment he had opened the ring box.

Her face had dropped. True horror had filled her eyes. And she had said, “No.”

Actually, she had practically shrieked it as she shoved the ring box away.

Adrien still didn’t understand it. Marinette certainly wasn’t the sort of person to be upset about a diamond being too small or a ring being inexpensive. So the rejection had to be about him, and Adrien couldn’t fathom why, couldn’t identify what clue he had missed along the way.

He’d been nervous to propose, naturally, but he had never thought that Marinette would reject him, certainly not so dramatically. He didn’t think anyone had expected it. Even her parents and their friends were all waiting back at the bakery, ready to celebrate, convinced she would have said yes.

A new panic climbed Adrien’s throat as he imagined Marinette arriving back at her parents’ place, greeted with a congratulatory cake and champagne. He needs to call them, tell them the devastating news before Marinette reaches them.

But as his fingers alight on his phone, it begins to buzz. Adrien swallows and draws it out, unable to tamp down the desperate hope that it’s Marinette telling him she’s changed her mind—but instead it’s Nino.

Adrien answers and says nothing.

“Adrien, where are you?” Nino asks, voice thick with concern.

Adrien tips his head back against the chair and stares up at the ceiling. The warm yellow rings of lights glare down at him and he swallows down the mixture of shame and despair that begin to coil in his chest, familiar friends that have known him far longer than Nino has.

“Adrien?” Nino asks.

“I’m still here,” Adrien says, but with no more strength than he had managed to repeat Marinette’s rejection with.

“Where are you?” Nino asks again.

“I’m still at the restaurant,” Adrien clarifies. He doesn’t know where he’s going to go after this. Certainly not home. He considers the possibility of transforming into Astro Chat and disappearing into space.

“Listen, Marinette just called Alya, and Alya called me, and I really think you should—”

“It’s fine, Nino,” Adrien says.

“I know that’s not true. Do you want me to meet you somewhere?”

Adrien considers the prospect of company. He knows even if he does go home alone, Plagg will still be with him. He can’t truly be alone, unless he does decide to transform. Maybe he does need to spend some time on top of the Eiffel Tower, cloaked in Chat Noir’s magic and the silence of being so far above the world. Maybe he needs to spend a few days on top of the Eiffel Tower.

“I just want to be alone,” he says, fidgeting with the miraculous around his finger.

“If you need anything—”

But his phone buzzes against his ear, and Adrien loses the rest of Nino’s offer as he checks to see his cousin is calling him.

Adrien wonders how many phone calls he’s going to receive tonight. He wonders how many of them he’ll take and how many he’ll ignore.

He doesn’t think he should ignore this one.

“I’ll talk to you later,” he says to Nino, unsure exactly when later will be, and switches to the incoming call.

“Félix,” Adrien manages dismally. He wonders how fast word is spreading amongst their friends. He wonders if the news has already gone viral through a restaurant patron’s video footage.

“Kagami says I can’t kill her,” is all Félix says for a greeting, “but I will if you give me the okay.”

Adrien isn’t in the mood for Félix’s sense of humor. “Félix, I don’t—”

“I’m not joking,” Félix says.

Adrien rubs his eyes and runs his hand through his hair. “I’m going to hang up,” he says, wholly uninterested in Félix’s brand of comfort.

But Félix ignores this threat, and Adrien makes no move to follow through it it.

“Is there a possibility that she didn’t mean it?” Félix asks, voice turning from cold to cautious.

But Adrien doesn’t know how he could have misunderstood a loud, desperate shriek of, “No!” that seems to grow more violent as he turns the memory over and over again.

“She shoved me away and stormed out. I don’t think she could have communicated her feelings any clearer than that.”

Félix is quiet for a moment, and Adrien can picture him evaluating the evidence and trying to draw a picture of the event.

“Where are you?” Félix asks.

Adrien doesn’t answer.

He doesn’t consider himself a liar or even duplicitous in any way. He’s always genuine with his feelings—except when he isn’t.

Anger and heartbreak are too much for him, and he buries them deep, terrified that he’ll use them as weapons against others. He’s glimpsed, as much as the rest of Paris has, how hurt can be weaponized. He knows, too, the way that grief and heartbreak can make someone undesirable. He grew up in a home that treated sadness like a sickness, like rot that needed to be carved out. The last thing Adrien wants is for his friends and loved ones to see him at a low like this.

“I’ll be home soon,” Adrien finally says, avoiding Félix’s question.

“I’ll meet you there,” Félix says.

“Please don’t,” he says.

“You don’t enjoy being alone.”

And how could Adrien not cry at that? He’s been in shock—the rejection hurts, but he hasn’t truly felt it yet—until Félix trods on the roots of Adrien’s aching heart. He doesn’t enjoy being alone, and he wasn’t supposed to ever be alone again. He was supposed to have Marinette with him forever, but now…

He tries desperately to bite down the tears, but they swell up regardless. “I don’t understand,” Adrien chokes out, and his tears drip down his cheeks, like water through a crack in a levy. “I don’t understand what went wrong or why—” But his words fail him as his throat is suddenly consumed with a gasping sob.

He doubles over, one hand still clinging to Félix on the other end of the line and the other tightening in his hair like he can tear it out and his heartache with it. He leans against the table, unable to hold up his own weight as the burden of Marinette’s rejection bears down on him and an empty, lonely future spirals out before him.

“Tell me where you are,” Félix says, voice strangely tender.

Adrien screws his eyes shut, like he might be able to seal up his mess of tears or keep out Félix’s uncharacteristic kindness.

He knows the other restaurant patrons have to be watching, and all Adrien can think is how nice it would be to disappear. He thinks of how Marinette managed to flee the restaurant in her panic, and he wishes his legs would work and carry him out, too. He thinks if he hangs up the phone, he’ll be able to gather himself together just long enough to get out of here and find a place to become Chat Noir.

“Ah,” Félix says, “Nino just texted back. I’ll be right there.”

And Adrien can’t even protest, can’t warn him not to. Adrien certainly doesn’t want Félix to see him like this, doesn’t want anyone he loves to glimpse how utterly broken and devastated he is, but the words stick in his throat, drowned by the sobs he can’t fight down.

Adrien drops his phone onto the table, aware the call has gone dead and presses the heels of his hands against his eyes in an effort to stem his tears. He wonders how long he has until Félix arrives. Perhaps he can leave before his cousin gets here—

But there’s a gasp from the guests of the restaurant, a sudden rise of tension and fear that swells around him. Adrien’s skin prickles, familiar with the way a crowd’s mood changes before an akuma attack, but when he opens his eyes he sees no monster nor black butterfly searching for a victim. Instead, it is his cousin, dressed in the purple and blue hooded uniform of Argos.

Adrien should have guessed that Félix would manage to make a bigger scene than Marinette had.

As he reaches the table, his hand goes for Adrien’s shoulder, but Adrien shrugs him off.

“Please don’t,” he begs, unsure how he can bear Félix’s offer of comfort—unsure how Félix can bear his misery. Already, he can feel another swell of tears burgeoning. He curls into himself, burying his head in his hands, hiding what he can of his heartbreak.

Argos drops into the chair that Marinette had sat in not thirty minutes ago, and as he does, drops his transformation.

“I’ll stay until you’re ready to leave,” Félix says, voice still tinged with tenderness, and it only makes Adrien’s chest ache more.

Adrien is not used to people standing with him when he makes a mistake. He’s used to sharp critique and deathly silent meals. Marinette and Nino alike have been so gentle in their attempts to draw him out, to allow him to misstep without flinching, but this particular misstep feels so monumental. He doesn’t know how he could have read Marinette so wrong; he doesn’t know how anyone would want to sit with him through this.

Félix, at least, knows what it’s like to bury heartbreak and mistakes well out of sight and well out of reach. Félix knows the way perfection is not an achievement but an expectation, and he understands that something as ugly as grief is not fit for public consumption nor private indulgence.

Adrien draws in two shaky breaths, but they’re whole and uninterrupted by wild sobs. He thinks he has enough composure to speak again and asks, “Do you know where I went wrong?” He doesn’t care for how raw and ragged his voice sounds, and he reaches for his glass of water.

Félix picks up the wine that Adrien has left untouched and sniffs the uncorked bottle curious. He pours a little, swirls and sips it, then wrinkles his nose, and checks the bottle. His upper lip curls in disgust and finally, he turns his eyes back to Adrien. “Have you considered that you may have made no mistakes at all?”

Adrien shakes his head. “No—I must have done something—or said something—” he feels the tears threaten to crawl out of his chest again, and he presses his thumb and forefinger against his eyes to hold them back. “Alya might know. I can text her.” But when he reaches for his phone, he finds that Félix has already snatched it out of reach.

“Adrien,” Félix murmurs, “you cannot charm the world to your will by following a dance step diagram. There is no pattern to unlock, no measure of perfection that will make everything turn out right.”

Adrien grits his teeth, certain that what Félix says is true, but unable to accept it. If he could just be better, then things wouldn’t have turned out this way.

“I’m sure you did everything right,” Félix continues. “The date, the dinner, the tie, the ring…” Félix’s hand closes over the blue velvet box. “But sometimes, Adrien, things simply—” He stops as he flicks the box open.

Adrien’s heart sinks. The ring was the problem after all, wasn’t it? He should have bought something expensive, something that glittered. He had just thought that Marinette would have preferred something sentimental, so he had chosen to propose with his mother’s wedding band. Apparently it had ben the wrong choice.

Félix snaps the box closed and slides it back to Adrien. “I’m going to find Ladybug,” he says, and Adrien’s heart pounds with new concern.

“Ladybug?” he asks weakly.

Félix gets to his feet, but he hesitates as he eyes Adrien and his disheveled hair and tear-stained cheeks. Something in his tight shoulders sags ever so slightly.

“No, not Ladybug,” he says. “Adrien, I’m going to take you to Marinette.”

“Félix, I can’t—”

“I don’t think she meant to turn you down.”

Though Adrien is reluctant to believe Félix, his heart pounds with hope. “What’s wrong with proposing with my mother’s ring? I thought she’d think it was romantic.”

Félix scrubs a hand over his face. “Well, she didn’t.” His voice is once again flat and cold, void of the care he’d been displaying moments ago. His words, at least, show an awareness of feeling. “I’m going to take you to Marinette, and the three of us are going to have a very difficult conversation, and it is going to hurt, but it will be all right. Can you trust me on that?”

Adrien isn’t sure how he can, but Félix doesn’t make it sound like he has any choice in the matter. “How do you know it will be okay?”

Félix draws his mouth into a tight line. When he does speak again, it’s painstaking and slow, like poison being drawn from a wound. “Because you have people who will love you regardless.”

There is not much more room for discussion. Félix pauses only to call Alya—on Adrien’s phone, certain it’s the only way she’ll answer—and merely says, “Where’s Marinette?” before engaging in tense negotiations with Alya for Marinette’s whereabouts. He wins the interrogation, or at least Adrien thinks he must have, because as soon as he ends the call, he transforms back into Argos and scoops Adrien up in his arms.

Adrien decides that he prefers when Ladybug carries him, but he doesn’t have much choice in the matter, unless he were to suddenly tell his cousin the truth about the ring he wears on his middle finger. But Félix is clearly in a hurry to reach Marinette, and is uninterested in mortal means of travel. Leaping across rooftops with the power of the Peacock Miraculous is the best the two of them can manage.

He lands on Marinette’s rooftop, and Adrien stumbles out of his cousin’s arms, unsure he has ever dropped onto this rooftop as himself.

He does his best to scrub his cheeks free of any tearstains. His hair, he’s sure, is unsalvageable after their flight across the rooftops, and he does not even want to know the state of his suit.

Argos lifts the trap door without knocking and drops down inside. Adrien, suddenly aware that he has this brief moment alone, considers the risk of simply leaving.

But before he can quite manage a whispered, “Plagg, claws out,” Alya’s head appears from below. She gives him a sad smile and climbs out to meet him.

Adrien backs into the balcony railing, but Alya approaches anyway. She puts a tender hand on his shoulder and ignores the way he flinches. Even as he tries to shrug her off, she squeezes tighter.

“I’m really sorry,” she says.

Adrien refuses to meet her eyes. He can’t let her see the tears that are springing up all of a sudden. He doesn’t know why his cousin has insisted on this.

“For what it’s worth,” Alya says, “I don’t think she meant to turn you down. She’s… she’s really embarrassed, but she won’t say anything more to me than just that she panicked.”

Adrien doesn’t think that quite matches with his memory of the event, but his heart is racing again, brought back to life by the hope Alya is offering him.

“You should go talk to her. Félix won’t let me in there for whatever it is he wants to say, and I don’t know that I trust the two of them alone together for very long.”

Adrien isn’t entirely sure if that Alya’s fears are about mistrusting Félix—distantly, he remembers Félix’s offer of murder—or if they’re about mistrusting Marinette and her own scheming.

“I’ll go down there,” Adrien concedes, “but I’m not sure I’ll have much more to say.”

“Then just listen. And, hey, you know that no matter what happens, you and I are still friends, right?”

His chest swells and Adrien thinks this alone might break him. He isn’t sure how to accept this offer of kindness, of unconditional trust.

“Okay,” he manages, voice strangled with a whirl of emotions he can’t begin to name.

Adrien climbs down the ladder into Marinette’s bedroom and finds that Félix is once again without his magical costume. He has settled into Marinette’s desk chair as easily as if it was his own, while Marinette sits on the edge of her bed, head between her knees and hands locked behind her neck as if she is preparing for an earthquake or a tornado. Adrien considers mirroring her posture, but chooses not to, only because he is unsure where he would sit. So he stands, leaning against her windowsill, unsure how to begin this conversation.

“If you don’t tell him, Marinette,” Félix says, “then I will.”

Marinette’s whine is muffled by her knees and whatever she murmurs into her leg is fully unintelligible.

Félix sighs in exasperation. He takes his own ring—his father’s ring—between his thumb and finger and yanks it off. He turns it over between his fingers. “Adrien, have you ever wondered how you and I are so terribly alike in appearance even though we are only cousins?”

“Our mothers are twins,” Adrien says, almost automatically. He distantly remembers asking his mother about it once, and she’d said the same. She had said to never bring it up again, so he had done as she asked and never questioned her answer. Even now, it seems impossible to think otherwise.

“My mother can’t have children,” Félix says, and there is nothing in his tone nor expression that indicates how absurd the statement is.

Adrien glances to Marinette for some sort of clue or help, but she is still in a panic. His heart aches to see her like this, and all he wants is to sit down next to her and hold her. But he remembers how she pushed him away just an hour ago, and he remains by the window.

“Félix, that doesn’t make sense.”

“My mother can’t have children and neither could her twin sister.”

Adrien does not have the patience for this conversation. He rubs his eyes, aching and tired from the tears they have spilled. “I don’t understand what you mean.”

“My father created me, and your mother created you, using the Peacock Miraculous.”

Marinette moans like a seasick sailor whose ship has made a sudden lurch beneath her feet. Adrien can only stare at Félix, stunned.

“Why would you say something like that?”

“Because it’s the truth,” Félix says, “and because I told Marinette.”

Adrien’s gut twists. He isn’t sure which part is harder to swallow: the idea that he’s a Sentimonster or the idea that Marinette rejected him because of it. His entire reality shifts before him, and he clings to the window’s ledge to make sure he stays on his feet.

“But you… you can’t be serious.” But even as Adrien says it, he can’t imagine Félix would be anything less than serious. His next concern, then, is that Félix has simply been horribly misinformed.

He looks to Marinette again, and he knows by the white in her knuckles and the half-formed sob that bursts out of her chest that she believes it.

“My father used this ring as the object to bind me to life,” Félix says. “Your mother chose hers and your fathers’ wedding rings.”

Adrien shakes his head, still unable to see truth in Félix’s words, but finally—finally—Marinette says something intelligible.

“I’m sorry,” she says, and hiccups on another sob. She lifts her head and looks at Adrien. Her face is flushed, cheeks tear-streaked and eyes puffy, red, and streaked with mascara. Though she’s still wearing the dress she had put on for their formal dinner date, the satin is wrinkled like she’s the one who took a journey across Paris’ rooftops in a superhero’s arms. “I didn’t mean it, Adrien, I swear.”

Adrien pulls the velvet box out from his jacket and looks at the ring inside. He still can’t wrap his head around the idea that this ring and his father’s ring, still attached to the necklace fastened beneath his shirt, are tethers that hold him to this world. He still can’t believe that he isn’t human. He feels human. He imagines that this night wouldn’t hurt so much if he were otherwise.

But more urgent than this absurdity that Félix has laid at his feet is Marinette’s apology. He stumbles over to Marinette and collapses onto the bed beside her. “Which part didn’t you mean?” he whispers.

Marinette hiccups again and tries to rub her eyes dry, but she only succeeds in smearing her mascara. The black streak bleeds into her hairline and her tears continue to fall regardless.

“The part where I pushed you,” she says, and chokes on another sob. “The part where I said no.”

Adrien plucks the ring out from the velvet box. “Marinette—”

“No!” she yelps again, and closes her hands over his. She falls off the bed, knees hitting the hardwood floor with a thud and she winces, but does not lose her grip on Adrien’s hand. He’s afraid she’s going to break his fingers

“Adrien, don’t,” she says. “I can’t take this.”

“But Marinette—”

“Please,” she sobs. She buries her face into his knees, tears and makeup soaking into his suit. Without looking up at him, she pries the ring out of his hand and slides it onto his own finger. “Adrien, I love you,” she chokes on another gasping sob, “and I cannot love you and wear this ring.”

Something new inside Adrien breaks, something he can’t name. He stares down at the top of Marinette’s head, and her hands holding onto his like he’s the only tether she has to this world. New tears fall from his cheeks, unattached to sobs. They aren’t sad tears, not at all.

Human or not, Marinette loves him. He’s not sure anything else matters.

He sinks to the floor beside Marinette, takes her face in his hands, and kisses her.

She doesn’t push him away. She doesn’t shriek and reject him. It’s the kiss he had expected, long and deep and perhaps a bit more wet than he had been prepared for. Even her hiccups, he thinks, ought to have been expected.

The chair beneath Félix creaks as he stands, and he coughs.

Marinette and Adrien politely pause their kiss, but they keep their hands intertwined and their foreheads pressed together.

“I’ll let Alya know we’re finished, then.”

Marinette tries again to wipe her eyes dry. “I’ll go—” She pauses for a sniff and a hiccup. “I’ll go tell my parents the good news.”

Adrien squeezes her hand. “Wait, one more thing.” He turns to his cousin, already halfway up the ladder steps. He supposes that Félix has given a lot of emotion today, and he shouldn’t be surprised his cousin is trying to slip away. “Why did you tell Marinette about the rings before you told me.”

Marinette sucks in a sharp, sudden breath of air and her hiccups vanish. Félix freezes on the ladder, but it’s brief. He shrugs and says, “I’ll let Marinette tell you that one.” And he leaves.

Adrien looks at Marinette, watches her worry her bottom lip and flick her eyes between her sewing machine, the box that he knows her diary is hidden in, and the dollhouse perched on her desk.

“Marinette?” he asks.

“Well—I—I mean—I can’t—I mean you can’t—” Marinette fumbles for the right words, but Adrien is used to this. He waits patiently.

“I’m Buglady,” she finally spits out, “I mean Luggybady. I mean—”

Adrien’s eyebrows lift. “You’re Ladybug?”

She swallows and nods.

He glances at the plain black earrings fastened in her ears. He thinks about the last several years of interrupted dates and how he hadn’t even noticed her terrible excuses for lateness because he was too busy thinking about his own.

Adrien works his ring off of his finger. He never removes it, and it requires a bit of doing, but once its off, he slides it onto Marinette’s finger.

“Adrien, I said I can’t—”

He leans in close, whispers, “It’s just my miraculous,” and kisses her cheek.

She swallows and looks down at the band, clearly thicker than the wedding band and with an unadorned place for a stone setting—a space perfectly sized for a glowing pawprint—and begins to hyperventilate all over again.

“But you can’t—I can’t—but Adrien—Chat—”

Adrien kisses her, and she sinks into it, panicked words and breath forgotten. There’s nothing more to be said between them.

Nothing about today went perfectly; nothing about this kiss is picturesque or even truly romantic. But Adrien wouldn’t trade today and all of its mess for anything in the world. He loves his lady, panic and stuttering and all, and he’s willing to admit that maybe it’s okay if she loves his mistakes and his secrets too.

#adrinette #adrinette fic #miraculous ladybug #miraculous ladybug fic #felix fathom #adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng #ml fic #ml #did i do anything i was supposed to with my day no but i did this

[scribblesofagoonerr]

Our New Beginning

This small mini series is inspired by this anons' request here!

I found this absoloutely adorable to write and I hope that you all like it as well!

pairings: leah williamson x reader

summary: leah and reader have always wanted to start a family and that day finally comes true.

You remember the day that you and your wife first planned to have a baby, just like it was yesterday.

For as long as you and Leah had been together, you had always been certain that you both wanted the same thing, which was to start a family and grow old together.

It was a forseeable dream that you both shared and you both knew it was only a matter of time before it happened.

"So, I was thinking," Your wife began, you were sat in your living room as the crisp autumn air filled the room, both of you sat with your fingers interwined. "I think we're ready," she stated.

"Oh, ready for what?" You couldn't hide the amusment in your voice.

"I think we're ready to start our own little family," Leah said, her eyes bright with anticpation at the thought.

You smiled and felt a surge of excitment mixed with nerves, "It's a big step, but I think so too. I can't imagine doing it with anyone else but you," you told your wife honestly.

Leah leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to your lips, "I love you," she whispered, "Lets' do this, let's have a baby," she said.

In the weeks that followed, you and your wife drove headfirst into your preparations for journey towards parenthood. You had both done extensive research on fertility clinics, consulted with doctors and meticulously planned every little detail.

You decided you would be the one to carry, Leahs' football career was at a high right now and you didn't mind putting your career on the backburner to start a family with your wife.

It was clear that you were both just excited as one another, when one day you sneakily caught Leah browsing online for baby clothes.

"Really?" You asked your wife, a hint of amusement in your voice, "We're not even pregnant yet, love" The reminder from you was gentle, at the end of the day, you knew your wife was just looking forward to starting this journey together with you.

And the fact that your wife was a die-hard Arsenal fan, so of course she would be adamant that her own baby would therefore have their own kit, be damned.

"There's no harm in just looking," Leah waved off your tone of voice, "You can't not expect me to not get them one, our baby is going to be a Gooner, following in their mummy's footsteps. Arsenal runs through their blood," she joked with you, playfully.

"What if they don't even like football?" You challenged, amusedly.

Leah gasped and clutched her hand over her heart, "Arsenal will through their blood, whether they like it or not," she declared with a certain determination in her voice.

You couldn't help but chuckle and imagine your future together with your wife, filled with football games and family outings, "They'll be the cutest little Gooner," you replied, pulling Leah into a tight embrace.

Leah's excitement was palpable, already evisioning their little one wearing a tiny Arsenal shirt, "I can't wait to take them to their first match," she exclaimed, her eyes shining with joy.

Finally, the day arrived for you both to undergo the first IVF procedure, nerves fluttered in your stomach as the two of you sat in the waiting room, your wife holding your hand in comfort.

As you both were called into the doctors office, Leah squeezed your hand, her excitement was tinged with her own nervousness, "Whatever happens, we're in this together," she whispered, her voice steady with determination.

"We're in this together," You repeated with the same determination.

You thought the IVF procedure would be the part that you were most worried about, but instead it was the the anxious waiting around for the results, that wait was the longest for sure.

Or at least it felt like it was.

Every single day with the lead up to taking the pregnancy test, the anticipation mounted and your nerves felt like they were never settled.

So many times, so many times you wanted to pick up the test and try it earlier than the recommended 2 weeks after the embryo transfer, it was hard to not do it.

You could say it was the same sort of feelings for your wife, especially when you found her up at all early hours in the morning, pacing back and forth with that small frown planted on her face that you would always teased her about, until the day where you could take the test.

You would always remember that special day, the day that changed both of your worlds' for the better.

Your dream had come true, finally.

"Le, come look at this a minute," You motioned your wife to join you, where you stood in the bathroom with a white stick balanced on the counter, the results clear as day.

2 very bold lines, you were pregnant.

Your wife was quick to bolt up from her seat on the sofa to join you in the bathroom, setting her eyes on the test as she gasped, "We're pregnant?" Leah whispered, tears of joy starting to stream down her cheeks as she stared down at the test in her hands.

"We're pregnant," You repeated, your voice trembling with emotion.

Leah's heart swelled with happiness as she wrapped her arms around you, holding you close, "We did it," she murmered, the tears still flowing down her cheeks.

In that moment, all the planning, all the nerves and the waiting faded away, it was replaced with an overwhelming sense of love and grattitude for your new addition to your little family and you both couldn't wait to welcome your little bundle of joy to the world.

leahwilliamsonn and y/nwilliamson posted

Liked by liawaelti, alessiarusso99 & 87,233 others.

leahwilliamsonn: So, we've been keeping a little secret to ourselves for a while now, that we'd like to share with all of you. Our dream of starting a family together has finally become real!

We can't wait to meet you, baby Gooner ❤️

© scribblesofagoonerr

#woso x reader #woso fanfics #arsenal x reader #woso imagine #woso #woso one shot #arsenal women x reader #leah williamson x reader #arsenal wfc x reader #scribblesofagoonerr

[agi-ppangx]

ᯓ★ alone together

ᝰ hwang hyunjin x gn!reader

ᝰ wc: 569

ᝰ an: i wrote it a few weeks ago when i wasnt feeling too well and then i listened to alone together by fall out boy and boom! i wrote this fic :3 i hope you'll like it, please remember to leave feedback !!<3

you didn’t know what time it was when you finally entered your flat. you only knew it was late - too late for your liking. letting out a loud sigh you kicked off your shoes, not caring about putting them neatly on the shelf. you only dreamed of going to sleep so the day could finally be over. 

it’d been too much lately - the voices in your head got louder again and your boss had been acting like a complete bitch, making your life miserable and leaving you feeling like a failure. you were overworked and overwhelmed and you could only take so much before breaking down completely.

you dragged your lifeless body to the bathroom, stripping down of your work attire and letting the warm stream of shower water rinse the exhaustion and ache from your muscles. you didn’t bother doing your skincare - with your state, you were proud of yourself for just showering and every other thing seemed like too much of a hustle in that moment. leaving the bathroom, you felt a sting in the corner of your eyes and you let the tears fall down your cheeks, thinking it could be best. after all, even clouds cry when they feel too heavy. 

you entered your bedroom with a foggy sight, not entirely aware of your surroundings, so when you heard a quiet groan you wiped your eyes, scanning the room in confusion.

“hyune?” you asked in a small voice, finally acknowledging that your fiancé was home. he hummed softly, not saying anything and it confused you even more. “baby, what are you doing here? i thought you were staying at changbin’s tonight?”

hyunjin shook his head, burying his face deep into the pillow, and you brought your hand to his hair, threading your fingers through his dishevelled locks. you took your time to massage his scalp and hyunjin seemed to visibly relax under your touch, finally looking up at you.

“why are you crying?” he whispered with worry, ignoring your question. he stretched out his arms and invited you into his embrace which you gladly accepted without a word. his strong arms wrapped around your body, creating a shelter for you and your messy thoughts. “bad day?” hyunjin added, placing a gentle peck at your temple. 

“yeah,” your voice was small and weak as you replied, the tears starting to fall again. “you too?”

“yeah.” 

there was no need for further explanation. without a word, you snuggled closer into hyunjin’s chest, hearing his heartbeat - your favourite lullaby. the silence filled the room, the only things that could be heard were your quiet sniffles and hyunjin’s heavy breathing as he tried to calm himself down. suddenly, a wave of guilt filled your body. you looked up at your fiancé, the sight of his troubled expression making your heart sink. 

“i’m sorry i can’t help you right now,” you said, your voice barely above the whisper. hyunjin shook his head, closing his eyes.

“it’s okay, you’re hurting too. we can be two troubled souls together until we are ready to help each other, yeah?”

you nodded weakly, more tears spilling from your puffy eyes, and hyunjin was quick to wipe them from your face. you leaned to kiss him and he didn’t protest. it was messy, just like your minds at that moment, but neither of you seemed to care as you found comfort in each other’s arms. 

ᝰ taglist: @astraystayyh @laylasbunbunny @l3visbby @like-a-diamondinthesky @hanjsquokka @xichien @inniescandy-01

#skz #stray kids #stray kids headcanons #stray kids imagines #stray kids x reader #skz au #stray kids scenarios #stray kids fluff #stray kids comfort #stray kids hurt/comfort #skz hyunjin #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin scenarios #hyunjin fluff #hyunjin comfort #hyunjin hurt/comfort #hyunjin headcanons #hwang hyunjin imagines

[lyvhie]

a different kind of exercise | ljn

personal trainer!jeno × fem!reader (18+ mdni)

summary: he just wanted to give you a private lesson.

a/n: sorry, that didn't go well as i wanted, but i didn't have anything planned for his bday and this ended up coming out 😭 i didn't like that one, but happy bday to jeno!

cw: smut, pwp, unprotected sex, petnames (baby/pretty)

jeno was not planning on this. yet he was glad it happened.

when he accepted to be your personal trainer, he didn't think much about it. you seemed like a genuine newbie in the gym, seeking legitimate help. unlike other people, you hadn't chosen him just because of his good looks, he could see that you actually wanted to learn.

he wasn't expecting much to come from your time together aside from some casual conversation during workouts and the occasional advice about exercising, but he found himself growing more interested in you than his purpose of teaching.

he didn't know why exactly, but he felt an attraction to you that he couldn't explain. sometimes he would even find himself acting like a pervert. and he knew that was wrong, but it was all somehow your fault.

he would often blame you for wearing those tight leggings that gripped onto your body like a second skin. he knew it wasn't fair to blame you for their existence, but he also couldn't help but be distracted by their form-fittedness.

but he was glad you wore them. he loved it when you folded forward, giving him a great view of your ass. he would make up some excuse about you doing it wrong just to get closer and hold your waist. he would press you against him and lean over you, telling you "how it should be done," while enjoying the feel of your body pressed against his. he enjoyed taking his time to "help you do it right" so that he could spend more time up close with your ass rubbing against his cock.

or when he is "helping you out" by adjusting your position and form while doing an exercise. he knew that wasn't necessary, but he used the excuse of "straightening you up" to sneak his hands around you. he would grab a handful of your breasts, pretending to position you properly to do the exercise but actually taking the chance to feel you up.

jeno would often find excuses to get close to you, brushing up against you or putting his hands on your body more often than necessary, always trying to touch you in subtle ways that he hoped you wouldn't notice.

and that was the best—or worst—part of it all. you were completely clueless about his actions, genuinely thinking it was just his way of teaching. honestly, it wasn't bothering you at all. in fact, you even secretly enjoyed it when he was "just teaching you" and getting a bit too close for comfort by holding you up and touching your body.

but still, for jeno, this was pure agony too. all he craved was to fuck you senseless until you were practically limping, but he couldn't just spit it out. ever since your sessions began, he caught himself fucking his fist at night thinking about you, he'd daydream about pounding into you, making you yell his name 'til you were hoarse.

gosh, he needed you so bad.

and so he made it.

it was easier than he thought. all he had to do was come with an excuse to get you to his house. saying he needed to "go over some information" about your exercises and "get more in-depth" with your routine, he asked you to come over to his place to "work through the details" of your activities.

he can't really remember how things escalated from telling you to make yourself comfortable to him pressing you up against the bed mattress with your legs around his waist while you cry out his name because of how good it feels to have his cock stretching your tight pussy.

“you feel so—god, so f-fucking good,” jeno’s hands grip your hips tightly as he thrusts deeper into you, his movements becoming more urgent with each passing second. your hands were gripping the sheet so tightly that your knuckles were white, your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

“y-you're so tight, baby,” he looked down to see where your bodies connected, watching as his length disappeared into your welcoming pussy.

"fuck, y/n... you take me so well,” he breathes heavily, trying to maintain control as you clench around him. "i could stay here forever,” his cock slamming into you with such force that you could feel it in your bones.

the sensation of him filling you up completely is almost too much to bear, but you wouldn't trade it for anything else in the world right now.

jeno feels your body tensing up and your warm walls squeezing him again, making him groan. “are you close, pretty?” the only answer for his question were your loud moan and it was enough for him.

you gasp when he suddenly changes your position, pulling one of your legs over his shoulder and driving himself even deeper inside of you. the new angle hits all the right spots, and you feel yourself being stretched to the limit, even more sensitive as his hand slip down to rub your clit.

you starts to feel an orgasm building inside of you, which made you let a whine escape your lips. you didn't want this moment to end, but you know it's going to be explosive when it finally does. you focus on the sensation of him filling you up, on the sound of your bodies slapping together, and on the scent of sex in the air. it's a heady combination that sends you over the edge, you body shuddering and convulsing beneath his as you milk his cock.

jeno himself couldn’t hold back his own climax any longer, the way your face contorts in pure bliss as you come undone beneath him sends him over the edge. feeling his orgasm getting closer and closer, his thrusts became a little more messy, but still at the same pace. it felt so good he almost forgot to pull out, withdrawing just in time to cum on your thigh, his hot load sticking to your skin.

he falls onto the bed next to you, the only sound now is your heavy breathing as you both try to compose yourself. you continue to silently stare at the ceiling for a few more minutes before turning your head to look at him, just to find him already looking at you.

“so…” you begin. “same time next week?”

#jeno x reader #jeno smut #nct smut #nct dream smut #nct x reader

[formula1blog]

Take me back to the night me met

Part 1- Traitor

Part 2- You are here

Part 3- I bust the windows out your car.

Ex Charles Leclerc x Singer Fem!Reader

Summary: Charles faces the consequences of his actions. You both look back at your relationship.

wc: 1272

With the McDonalds in your hands the three of you drove off to the Hotel in Nice where Pierre and Kika were staying.  "Was it something I did. Am I not good enough?" You had broken down the moment you exited Monaco. Stuffing fries in your mouth you hoped to stop the crying. "Don't say that, you didn't do anything wrong. Sometimes people just want to ruin a perfectly good thing and that will never be your fault. Remember that." she stroked your shoulders in encouragement to help calm you down. 

"Did he say anything to you Pierre. Anything that would have led to this." You cried out. His heart broke at the sight of you. "I don't know why Charles would do this, but I will figure it out. From everything i heard that men was head over heels for you and I know that he did a future with you. I want to know what changed his mind and fucked everything up." Pierre sounded angry. He wanted to slap his friend in the head hoping he would find his brain back. How could he want to lose the woman he spent the last five years with? 

-----------------

A couple of kilometers away Charles had arrived at is apartment. The minute he saw the photos online he had booked a flight from Sicily and flew back to Monaco. He knew he couldn't explain it over call. He knew you would hang up on him or don't even pick up the phone. He couldn't blame you. 

He did have a work meeting planned but it got cancelled last minute. Some of is colleges had invited him to the yacht part and he couldn't say no. He forgot to tell you about the change of plans. He also forgot how much alcohol he had consumed and after he knew it he had fucked up everything that had happened the last five years. He knew the alcohol wasn't an excuse, but he did regret everything. He didn't plan for this to happen. 

When he opened up the door he was taken back by the cold sfeer of the home. He knew that you left. He felt it. Walking through the apartment he saw that your things were missing. The bookshelf was almost fully empty, only his own books were still placed on the dark wooden shelf. Plants were missing and he didn't see your guitar. Walking into the bedroom he saw the closet only filled with his clothes. Some of your pieces were on the ground, probably not able to pack them in your bags. Tears felt his eyes as he screamed his lungs out. "Putain, fuck, fuck, fuck. No, please don't leave." he slid to the ground as he put his knees to his chest. 

His eyes were puffy and red by the time he finally managed to calm himself down a bit. The tears were dried to his face by the time he looked up from the ground. His eyes landed on the picture on the nightstand. It was you two together at his first Monaco grand prix. He love that picture more then anything and right now he wanted to smash it to pieces. 

He didn't know what to do. He needed someone to talk too, but he knew he didn't have anyone. He had seen a note on the table from Pierre, saying that he didn't have to call because he wouldn't pick up. He couldn't talk to his family, they would only scold him for this. As he deserved. The only option he had was Max. Before he knew it he had walked out of his apartment and towards the Dutchman's home. Hoping he would have good advice for him. 

--------------

Pierre looked up at the sound of his phone ringing. A confused  look  made a way on his face when he saw that it was Max verstappen calling. That didn't happen often anymore. "Hello Max. What is it?" the other side of the phone was silent and Pierre taught maybe it was a butt dial. He waited for ten seconds more before the dutch man started to speak. "Hi, Sorry. Can you please tell me what is going on. Charles is crying on my couch and I don't know what to do." 

Pierre's heart broke a bit knowing his friend was in pain, before remembering that he was the one that caused all of this to happen." Charles thought that it was a good idea to go and kiss another woman, that isn't his girlfriend. I think he right now comes to terms with his actions." He explains to the world champion who lets out a heavy groan. "Why did he do that. Why is he acting like it isn't his fault? He does keep asking about her, so please just tell me you know where Y/N is." Pierre tells him that he had picked you up the moment he figured out and that you were right now crying your heart out to Kika. "Please get to know why he did it?" 

"Who was it?" Kika asked her boyfriend. "Max. Charles is in his home crying his heart out because of his stupid actions." Your head snapped up by the sound of Charles. Was he sad?  Good he deserved to be. He is the one that screwed everything up. "What an ass whole is Charles. His red flag is redder than his Ferrari."

As if it was on cue your phone started ringing. It was Charles. Charles Leclerc the man who broke your heart was trying to reach out for you. "Don't pick up. Let that man hurt." Kika grabbed the phone out of your hand. He tried another time and again, before starting to text you. Messages were filling your inbox so fast that you wanted to know what he was saying. "Just let me read them. I won't answer."

Charles<3

-I am sorry

- Please just pick up the phone

- Can we talk

- I didn't mean for this to happen

- I love you Cheri

- Please, just talk to me

- I can explain

-> read

- Don't leave me

- We didn't built all of this for nothing

- I can see that you read them

- J'taime

- Cherie please

- Y/N please just let me explain myself

- promise it is not what it looks like

Your heart ache with the feeling that maybe it was all fake. Maybe it didn't happen. "I just wished this never happened. That this was all some kind of nightmare and that I woke up with him next to me. I want to go back to the moment that I met him and do things differently, hoping he doesn't end everything. Why can't it be like the past." You sniffled.  You think back about how you met Charles. It was the end of 2017. You had been lost in the mall of Monaco and asked a stranger for help. That stranger turned out to be Charles Leclerc, the formula 2 championship winner. You had been in love the minute your eyes landed on him, it being the same for him. You were both young, but knew that you wanted to spend time with each other. At the end all of it was for nothing. 

All that time you spent together. The dates, the conversations, the sacrifices. It was all for nothing. Just because he had to ruin it by kissing another woman. You hated him for that. That he threw everything away that you had worked for. You want to be hurt the same way that you were feeling right now. You smile a bit when you get an idea in your head. "The positive look from this is. I finally have the inspiration to write a new album. And it is going to be completely dedicated to the man who broke my heart."

Part three is coming

#charles leclerc x reader #cl16 #charles leclerc 16 #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc imagine #f1 #formula 1 #kika gomes #pierre gasly #Charles leclerc #f1 imagine

[moremousewrites]

Just For You

Request Link

Pairing: Astarion/Tav (GN)

Summary: At the party, your companions get around to asking what you've been doing the last few months. They're shocked to discover you're spending your time with Astarion. They're even more shocked to learn that you'd had a relationship with Astarion the entire time

Tags: just pure fluff and epilogue spoilers

A/N: thank you for requesting! I tried to make it as close to your request while staying in character so i hope you like it 🖤

The night air cooled your skin at your old camp. You never thought you'd see it again; the grounds you'd spend in quiet comfort during those weeks of peril. And to see your friends again after all this time was an even greater privilege. Though, catching up with your companions was proving to be a bit overwhelming for you. You listened intently as they regaled you with anecdotes of their new lives, adventures, and homes. It was a lot to take in, seeing how much they'd changed in the months you'd been away, but pleasant to know they were all right. 

At some point in the night, Wyll finally turned the attention onto you. You'd managed to dodge the questioning for the night, asking your companions about their lives. But now it was your turn. 

“Enough about me, Tav. What have you been up to these last few months?” He asked, eager to hear from you. You hadn't kept in touch with anyone from the party so it was his first time hearing about your new life. Well you had kept in touch with one person. 

“Well, Astarion and I have-” you started.

Wyll cut you off, confused. “Wait, you and Astarion? Did some spark ignite between you after our adventure?” Wyll teased, shocked at what he was hearing.

You looked over at Astarion who was eyeing you, considerably from the other side of the camp. “No, actually. We were… how shall I put this. Involved. Prior to the Netherbrain” you explained, awkwardly, taking a sip from your goblet to hide your face.

Wyll's jaw dropped. “You were together the whole time?!” He practically screamed. All attention was on you now. 

You tried to shush him, giggling slightly at his reaction. “Oh no, Tav. You've got some explaining to do. How could you not tell us you and Astarion were a thing?” He asked in disbelief. 

“What the fuck?!” Karlach chimed in, running over to you. “Soldier, are you shitting me?” She asked, grabbing you by the shoulders and shaking you. Your drink splashed onto your hand and you grabbed her arm to steady yourself. 

Again, you shook your head. Where was that vampire of yours? “Well… technically it wasn't the whole time” Ah, there he was. You heard his voice approach behind you and felt his hand on your lower back. Karlach released you to watch the spectacle before her. “Most of our time was obviously devoted to killing cultists and the occasional mind flayer but yes in the duration of our adventure we formed a beautiful bond” Astarion explained in an aloof way. 

You could see your companions weren't satisfied with his answer at all but it didn't matter. The quiet nights you shared together, the stolen glances and tearful confessions. Those were only for the two of you. It was your love, and it was finally a peaceful one. You were happy to share your adventure with your friends, but some things were just for you.

As the night was ending and you said your last goodbyes, you made your way to Astarion. He had a soft look in his eyes, one he saved for you and you alone. “Did you have a nice time, my love” he asked, sincerely. 

You nodded. “Yes I did. I missed them” you sighed, taking his hand in yours.

Astarion gave your hand a gentle squeeze to reassure you. “We'll see them again. Until then, let's go home” he said. You walked away from the camp you once called home, hand in hand. 

#bg3 #bg3 fanfic #bg3 fanfiction #astarion #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #bg3 requests

[thecapricunt1616]

Peonies - c.b. oneshot

♡ Chapter Inspo: Peonies are most commonly associated with romance, prosperity, and bashfulness. Some even believe they're a good luck charm of sorts, bringing good fortune to whoever receives them. Peonies also have some roots in Greek mythology. As one myth states, Apollo used to turn beautiful nymphs into peonies if Aphrodite, the goddess of love and beauty, knew he was flirting with them.

♡ Summary: Carmy has his nights past favor gratefully returned.

♡ W/C: 1,267

♡ Posted Date: 04/21/2024

♡ A/N: OMG hello all! We are churning out these one shots while TB&HH is sorted out, THANK YOU oh dear lovely anon for your request that can be found here ♡ requests are still open, comments are encouraged, as are reblogs ! I hope you enjoy :) This is a follow up to Patchouli but of course both can be read as stand alone!! ♡ Warnings for BTC: Pre-discussed consensual somnophilia, m oral receiving, swearing, alluding to f receiving, fem reader referred to as girl - not fully edited **no use of y/n**

➵ 𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 ♡

➵ 𝘊𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 / 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘵 ♡

You woke up with a sleepy smile on your face, the first thought on your mind being it’s the weekend. Ah, the weekend. The cherished Saturday and Sunday you got to spend with your beloved Bear. 

Since the restaurant did so well for itself - he was able to take the weekends off, so long as he made sure everything was done Friday which he always did, he’d never jeopardize the sacred time you two had together. It was his reprieve from the hectic kitchen, he didn’t know what ‘refreshed’ meant until he started spending weekends and evenings with his special girl. 

You felt his muscular chest pressed flush to your back, his strong nose nuzzled in the crook of your neck. There were soft hot puffs of air hitting your shoulder as he breathed, and you felt his lips touching the top of your shoulder blade with a sweet pressure, almost like a prolonged kiss. 

While his left arm was curled under your ribs, and his left hand had found its way underneath your (his) white shirt, and was cupping your breast, holding it lightly as he slept. His right arm was curled over your waist, and your hands were laced together sweetly. 

Not wanting to wake him too soon, you carefully arched your ass back to feel his morning wood standing tall and at attention. You smile to yourself, wondering if he’d fallen asleep last night remembering what you’d promised this morning, or if he was just having one of his wet dreams. 

You gently unfurled your fingers from his one at a time before carefully putting his muscular arm over his own side  and he grunted in his sleep, laying flat on his back and splaying his hand over his stomach. He’d been trained even while sleeping to subconsciously respond to you. 

Ever so carefully you detangle your legs from his sleeping ones, carefully sitting up and crawling beneath the covers of your shared California king. You settled on your knees between his legs, lightly rubbing his thighs. 

It was a failed attempt to not nuzzle your nose in the crook of his clothed thigh and his cock, taking a deep breath and nearly getting drunk off his heady musky scent, mixed with the delicious scent of dove soap from his shower last night and the laundry detergent you had picked out from the store. 

With light open mouth kisses, you kissed over his tented length, taking your right hand and rubbing over his thick yummy sex. You had to swallow extra saliva, he was quite nearly making you drool already. His cock jumped in your palm, causing you to smile proudly. 

Carm let out a soft whimper, much more relaxed and carefree then he’d be when he was awake. That is why you loved when you’d brought up your fantasy of Carmy using you while you slept, and he was all for it immediately. When you asked him if you could wake him up as well - he thought about it for a moment but after a short few questions about what he was comfortable with - he decided he was for it 100%

While he was sleeping, his noises were so pretty. They were soft and less reserved, it was easy to tell when he’d woken because instead of light airy whimpers and sweet gasps - it was hot grunts and sexy moans. You gently pushed his boxers out of the way, taking the seeping pink member to your lips, and planting sweet kisses over the head. 

He gasped softly in his sleep, his abs tightening for a moment and his hips shivering at the contact. You bit back a giggle at his sweet innocent reactions he’d otherwise be too anxious or embarrassed to show, but one of love and wonder for why he was so nervous to let you see this of him while he was awake. 

“So pretty” you whispered to yourself, pushing down his foreskin and watching in awe as a little dribble of pre bubbles from the tip and leaks down over the sensitive head. You licked your lips, looking up at him to see he was still fast asleep- but you could see his heartbeat in his neck. 

He was absolutely having a dream 

You stuck out your tongue most of the way, holding your tongue over the tip of his already weeping cock. He didn’t need it- but you knew how much he loved having his head sloppy and nasty. A thick hot drop of saliva dripped from your drooling tongue onto his sensitive tip, dripping down his shaft and over your fingers.

It was irresistible to blow on the wet trail it left and he whimpered cutely, his balls twitching since his cock was trapped in your hand. Leaning down slightly, you took the tip between your lips, kissing it lovingly before gently suckling on it, flicking your tongue over his leaking slit, moaning quietly at the taste of his salty sticky precum.   

Carm’s hips bucked up, a hot whine tearing from his throat and his stomach clenching. His cock felt hot and heavy on your tongue, the tip was an aggravated pink begging to be played with. You began stroking the bottom of his shaft after spitting into your hand, and sticking out your tongue as you take him into your  mouth, finding a steady rhythm with bobbing your head and jerking him with your hand. 

He moaned out, his back arching slightly “please-please please” he whimpered in his sleep, reaching down and feeling your head and then he was up. 

“Oh fuck” he said hotly, his voice husky and deep from sleep. He lifted his head and looked down at you with sleepy hooded eyes, a small smirk coming to his lips.  

“Jesus, babe. Thought I was dreamin’- what I do to deserve such a good girl mm?” He gently pets your hair, his thigh twitching when you gently massage his balls. 

“Oh- wow” he hummed, letting his eyes flutter shut and head fall back to the pillow comfortably. “Wow. I’m gonna cum like -baby I’m-ah- where did you learn that- what the fffff-“ he shot long hot ropes of seed down your throat, fisting the sheets and his hips shaking lightly. You smiled proudly, realizing that the porn video you’d seen on twitter had been true. You had seen someone massage the fleshy spot just beneath the balls and the guy came nearly on the spot, and a lot. 

His stomach and abs contracted in overstimulation as you worked him through it and he hissed as you flick your tongue over his head, milking the last few dribbles of cum out of his twitching softening cock. You kiss the tip gently, before trailing gentle kisses all down the base and to his thigh, over his hips and stomach. Gently releasing his cock over his stomach as he came down and you trailed kisses over his abs. 

“I think I fuckin blacked out for a second babe. Jesus fuck how did you learn that and why are you holdin’ out on me?” He asked and you giggled, tonguing over his nipple and he bit his lip, moaning softly. 

“Saw a video.” You replied, sucking gently on the small sensitive bud while you massage the other between your forefinger and thumb. He groaned softly, patting your bum 

“Done. Done. If I cum again I think you’ll literally break my balls get off me you succubus it’s your turn. On your back” he teased.  Goes without saying but you two didn't eat real food until the afternoon rolled around.

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