#my heart aches for my family i may never see again

[yomogi-mogi-mochi]

Orchid Child, Dandelion Child

Pairings: Riddle & Sibling MC (NOT a romantic pairing)

Summary: This is going to take after Riddle’s overblot, and short and sweet. The term orchid child/dandelion child refer to children who may have very specific/different needs for their development, and those who need less accommodations or specific requirements for their development, respectively. They may grow up in the same environment but everyone’s needs are different, one child may have different coping mechanisms than the other. MC is heavily implied to have dyslexia, ADHD/Autism, and OCD (the latter two of which are often comorbid)

Notes: My brain is so dead. Enjoy this very short piece, sorry it's been a while.

TW: Graphic descriptions of embalming (weird tag I know but listen listen listen hear me out‒), also mentions of blood and human biology; past domestic/child abuse, and mental illness

GN Terms for MC

AO3 Link Here

Masterlist

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Adjacent to your mother’s footsteps, you had always had a curiosity for the medical. Though it was never living bodies that enamored you. In death, biology levels all. Cremation, natural burial, or alkaline hydrolysis‒ no amount of money, or intelligence, magic, or talent would help anyone escape the inevitable. Whether able bodied, rich, poor, moral or not‒ all people returned to dust, bones, and decay. 

  Rituals like the embalming process always brought you a strange comfort‒ the draining and ejecting, bathing, refrigeration‒ the body incised, emptied of its filth, and sewn back up. Imagining the dissection of a body into each fleshy component relaxed your own‒ as if your cold body lay on a sleek, steel mortuary table, your jaws and eyes sewn shut and the biology of your body ready to be drained. Even if your insides were scraped out for people to see‒ you would not feel shame. No blood to rush to your cheeks, or your aching heart. Your mother had always dismissed this career choice, urging you to find something ‘more within your reach ’.

  Your body would be clean from its excrement, scrubbed of all the insides that capsized you from this world, and its people.

  Compartmentalization‒ your psychiatrist mentioned. It took you a few tries to correctly register the word in your head when you had gotten the report, you’re not sure if it’s correct. If you did not imagine this scene at least three times a day, you felt like your blood was going to burst forth from your membrane, hot and spastic, like a monstrous clot of nerves. Again. Again. Again. You cleansed this shaking contamination within you with whatever you could do. That’s wrong. You dig your nails into your palm, resisting the urge to lay the papers that were shuffled around by the headmaster on the floor, sorting and checking one by one if they were there. Again, again, again. You imagine an arterial tube weaving through the wounds of your hands, draining the warmth that itched against your skin, the function of your wandering eyes, and the defect of your mind.

  “I’ve signed off on everything. Is there anything else I can do for you, Mx.Rosehearts?” 

  “No, nothing else. Thank you, Headmaster Crowley.” 

  You gather the stack of papers in your file, you check through‒ quickly‒ your medical records, doctor’s notes, psych evaluations, annotated versions of section 504, interpreter documents‒ a variety of other loose papers that wedge inside the old file as best you can, just in case . Even for such a minute accommodation, lacking a legally recognized diagnosis prepared you for the worst. Rejection‒ a tumble and drag into a system not designed for you in mind. These accommodations were an afterthought after that system was built, something to make you “whole”. There were many experiences in your interactions with school boards that warranted preparations like this, which you scrubbed into your mind and routine. No one will help you‒ not the board, the teachers, your peers, your family‒ you must be prepared to advocate for yourself. There was never room for failure, and you made sure that these accommodations made up for your innate nature to do so in this system.

  You bow a perfect ninety degrees before you head out of the office, quietly shutting the door behind you with a soundless exhale. Adjusting the stack of papers in your file, you scurry off to the library to find a quiet corner to reorient yourself. You weave through the various open tables, the large seating area, and the comfortable nooks with beanbags‒ and instead, opt for your usual spot in the corner of the library, where you softly place the file on the desk. 

  That’s wrong. Again. Again. Again. Again. 

  You open and close the file four times, feeling a wriggling, hot feeling in your blood that completely halts your mind from moving forward with your process, despite the short amount of time you have until your next class. 

  No. Again. 

  With the sixth time, it feels right. You sigh in relief, thanking whatever higher being out there that the process didn’t take as long as before. Medical records, doctor’s notes, psych evaluations, annotated sections, interpreter documents. All in order, all there, only for you to see. A weight lifts off your chest as you shift your eyes around the library, and close the file. 

  You browse through the section of the library, running your finger along the spines of the books to spot a new read.  A mauve leather-bound book catches your eye, the gold letter glinting in the dusty light of the library. Smoke Gets in Your Eyes: Other Lessons From the Crematorium you skim the summary on the back. Satisfied, you work your way to the counter, where the librarian checks out the book with a smile. She pulls out the book slip at the front of the book and a pen. 

  Riddle Rosehearts. 

  You almost make a sound at the name, but instead, you quietly chew in your inner lip to provide some sort of grounding for the whirling feeling in your stomach. You feel sick when you write your name in the same cursive as the name above yours‒ just like your mother taught you. 

  “ Again .” Your mother would say. 

  You write. She slaps your hand with a ruler, reaching over your shoulder to erase the word. 

  “ Again .” 

  You write. She slaps, she erases. 

  “ Again .” 

  You write. She slaps, the paper begins to fray from the friction of your eraser, and the tears that run hot down your cheeks. Inertia. Inertia. Inertia. You repeat the word in your mind, trying to mold it with your hands. But the black text above the frayed paper seems to weave together, jumble, congeal. You push the hot coal in the back of your throat, forcing your bruised hand to write. 

  That’s not right. Again. Again. Again. 

  Why can't you just do it the way you're told?  

  Medical records, medical recommendations, psych evaluations, doctor’s notes, annotated sections, interpreter documents. So much extra weight that folder holds that you have to carry everywhere with you‒ just in case . 

  Again. Again. Again. 

  You open and close the locker shut, twisting the locker combination each time. At this rate, you know you’ll be late to class, way past your accommodations agreements. You hope Professor Trein won’t make such a big scene. 

  When you arrive at class, you are miraculously left alone by the professor and your peers. Breathing a sigh of relief, you take your usual seat, finding a practice exam on your desk. 

  You didn’t properly shut your locker. People are probably stealing your stuff now, breaking your things, tearing your extra records into pieces. You didn’t properly shut your locker. The documents are ruined, and you have to start all over again. You didn’t shut your locker. You grip your pencil, bouncing your leg, digging your nails into your palm. Yes, yes you did lock it. Three times in fact. Still, a voice persists‒ you didn’t do it right. Again. Again. Again. You scratch, and pick at the broken skin of your palm. 

  Eventually, as you continue staring at the packet‒ you feel a stab at the back of your shoulder. A student jabs forth the packet of papers that were collected from the back with an exasperated face. The papers are basically thrown your way as you add your half blank packet to the pile, swallowing down your anxiety. Trein continues class as usual, going over the review sheet. 

  “Mx. (Name). A word?” 

  You freeze in your seat, in the middle of gathering your things for next class. Students’ gaze furl towards you, and you pick at the wound of your palm to calm the rising panic in your abdomen. Begrudgingly, you pack up your things, and head towards Trein’s desk. 

  “I will excuse your tardiness for today since you have accommodations, but that does not explain the almost completely unfinished practice exam that we took in class. Do you care to explain?”

  You refuse eye contact. “I…” There was no way to explain it with any sane sensibility, or without alerting your mother. “I apologize sir. I was distracted. It won’t happen again.”

  He sighs, you know he doesn’t believe you. It’s your condition‒ you look to the stack of accommodation letters and agreements tucked under his elbow, and you feel that weight in your chest. 

  “Please, sir. I’ll do anything to make up for it I‒”

  A hand is raised at your response, with a pinch at the bridge of his nose. “It’s…It’s quite alright. I know you are trying your best, considering your… situation . Please finish the packet before you come to class next time.” Trein hands the packet back to you, which you accept with a silent nod. 

  The situation, the condition, the baggage. There have been many terms used to describe your disablement from the world‒ each more alienating than the other. You draw blood on your palm once more, looking inside the crescent-shaped holes in your flesh. You feel nothing but the trembling deep in your chest. 

  You sit in the shared space of the Heartslabyul dorm, hoping that body doubling will allow you to finish your workload. Though it takes you some time, you manage to finish your work before the sun sets, and you scurry back into your dorm room to begin your book. As you try to relax, the thought of a missing assignment, a failed exam, a systematic blunter pricks at your skin, spreading and choking your flesh. You read the same sentence over and over, but understand nothing. 

  Why can't you just do it the way you're told?  

  You hear a knock at your door, seizing you from your thoughts. You sigh, shove whatever scrap paper that had been lying around into your book, and reluctantly open the door. 

  Riddle Rosehearts. 

  You remember him from his perfect handwriting, his words that mirrored your own mothers. You could never get the “R” quite right, something both your brother and mother scolded you for. 

  “Rule of threes, you understand what will happen when you fail the third time.” Again. Again. Again. 

  Riddle had always resembled his mother much more than you had‒ in voice, in appearance, in tone. “ Rule of threes, (Name). You know what mother will do to you when you fail the third time .” He extended your mother's violence with all his likeness to her, in his face that would look down upon you with aberration, and his tightened fists that dragged your head to look closer at the paper, and realize your error. Every way he came into contact with you had been wrapped, tightly as flesh, your mother's violence. 

  You imagine that cold table again, but Riddle’s silvery eyes tethered you to the moment. It was as if you could feel every shifting tendon of your body, every pull of sinew and blood that pumped blood rapidly to your heart, and the back of your ears. But the guilty look on his face reminded you of one of the rare times he had broken mother’s rules. You realized he was as much of a child too, that day. Stretched thin and tall to fill your mothers expectations. 

  His stare is unbearable, you push through the tension in your throat. 

  “Can I help you, Dorm Leader Rosehearts?” 

  You think you see his worried expression, but your eyes dart from his gaze when he looks towards you again. 

  “You left this on the table in the common room.” He extends you the file that you thought had been safely tucked with your belongings. Your vision begins to distort‒ graying and distancing as you attempt to keep yourself calm from experiencing your literal nightmare . “I thought you wouldn’t want anyone to see it.” 

  “I…do not, no. I would not wish to shame you, or this dorm.” 

  Riddle takes a sharp inhale. You unconsciously tightening your body‒ imagining the postmortem stages. Pallor mortis, your blood pools to the souls of your feet. Algor Mortis, your skin feels on fire, and cools dead, limp. Rigor mortis, you stiffen and contract. The nutrients of your body drained, breaking down to gray sludge. You prepare for the breakdown of your body, your psyche, and your soul‒ the wounds on your body are only evidence to your movement through temporality in this system. Livor Mortis, your blood bruises your skin. 

  “I did not…mean that. I only meant‒ I felt…” He sighs, looking towards the floor. “I’m bad at this. But I didn’t mean that this is something shameful. I only wished to protect your privacy.” 

  You avert your eyes, unsure of what to do with him wanting to protect you in some sort of way. Perhaps his overblot changed him, but all you see if your mother’s shadow, when you look towards him. 

  “It’s not important, I apologize for the trouble, Dorm Leader Rosehearts.” 

  Maintaining his grasp on the file, he attempts to keep this connection going. “There’s so much I need to apologize for.” 

  You only manage a strangled sound, afraid to pull the file towards you. Afraid of movement, of air, of space, of time, of him. Everything seems to strangle you, you know that it was precisely designed that way.

  He cups a hand over your own. You try to repress the tremble in your body from the searing feeling of his palm, too afraid to look, speak, or move. You remain still, like a corpse, hastily trying to turn off your nerves and the bursting blood in your body, slaughtering it, and draining all feeling from your body. It’s been so long‒ your body rushes to catch up. You’re always catching up. Always. 

  “I don’t want to upset you. I just came to apologize, but I understand if you don’t want to see me.”

  Your mouth is sewn with silence, your jaw caught in a tremor in your mouth. Quickly‒ your mind makes the decision to speak‒ mother never liked when you didn’t answer to her questions. 

  The words scrape through your throat. “I…” A gulp to lubricate the convulsing motions of your esophagus. “Nothing is wrong. I apologize, dorm leader Rosehearts. It will never happen again‒ I apologize‒ I will make up for it. Please.” 

  His gaze softens. “I’m not asking because I’m asking you to apologize, or make up for anything. I’ve learned some things…I wanted to make up, but, I want to make sure you’re okay first.” 

  “Are you okay?”

  You spare a glance at his face, almost caught in the worried expression adorned on his features. “I don’t understand what the purpose that question serves. I can’t understand…” Still, you worry what will happen if it seems like you blame him for your lack‒ so you shift the weight on yourself once more. “I am incapable…of understanding. I apologize.” 

  “Hey.” He mellows his voice as much as possible, releasing you from his grasp. “It’s okay.”

  “You asked me a question. I was incapable of giving an answer that satisfies you. That is a violation of the rules, is it not?” You retract your hands to your chest, pressing your nails into the wounds on your palm. 

  Riddle folds his hands, almost nervously fidgeting with them. You almost react visibly with awe at the sight. “Our mother may have been wrong about a lot of things. I only recognized that after I attended here, and made many friends who helped me understand that. I am extremely regretful of the things I’ve done to you, and the things I’ve said. There’s no excuse for the things I’ve done, but I’m sorry. I hope you can forgive me someday‒ I want to reconnect, if you’ll allow me.” 

  You push the file against your chest. “...I don’t think it will be easy. For me, or for you. Especially for me.” 

  “Most things that are worth something aren’t. I realized something while I was overblotting.” His cheeks gradually bloom pink, a habit he’s had since he was a child. You remember the color most when he cried, but he looks sheepish. Igniting the same warmth in your cheeks, you look at his feet. Heels, you never noticed. He must be shorter than you. “I missed you. I really did. And I missed what we could have had. I’m sorry I couldn’t have been a better brother to you.”  

  “I think…I missed you too.” You admit. “I think neither of us can ask for help, we’ve been raised that way. We have drastically different ways of coping with that isolation.” 

  “I think so too. I have a lot of work to do.”  

  “ We do.”

  Rubbing your arm up and down, you soothe yourself‒ thinking of bodies and corpses, your skin buzzing from the thought of decomposition‒ what grows from them. The fruits of death lay thick and sweet on your tongue, as you stumble through a small smile. Riddle reciprocates.

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End Notes:

Obviously this is only a small glimpse into what healing from abuse and trauma is like. But it’s a start. The first steps count.

I’m also in no way shape or form attempting to justify Riddle’s behavior. He’s a complete and total asshole for sure, but he was a kid‒ I definitely see him as capable of change.

The terms Orchid/Dandelion child are relatively new, and I find the pop-psychology approach to it very distasteful (as pop psych usually is. do your fucking research people. PEER REVIEWED ARTICLES!) But I wanted to use the terms to kind of critique the notion of this divide between "resilient" and "nonresilient". It's just a matter of needs, which are different for everyone. Making this hierarchical distinction is arbitrary and often times ableist, as it normalizes a singular, hegemonic way of reacting/experience/compartmentalization/coping. Anyways read more disability studies if you want to know more.

Because I’m not officially diagnosed (my disabilities are not officially recognized by law because for me the disadvantages gross outweigh the benefits, like literally having your human rights stripped away) I don’t know the specific details of acquiring accommodations in a school setting apart from my position as a teacher, but please let me know if there are any errors in the information so I can fix them expeditiously

I also wanted to write about the systematic issues disabled people (particularly those with “invisible” disabilities or those who are “undiagnosed”), I feel like I’ve been experiencing a lot of issues and push back from a system which is not built for disabled people in mind (and often is used against the community in an attempt to eradicate the category). Furthermore, I wanted to explore the aspects in which traditional psychiatry/curative methods are not built for neurodivergent individuals specifically. We often get diagnosed (especially those who have been socialized or perceived as female) with other disorders because of the perpetual stigma against ADHD, and autism in particular. Mainly why I didn’t go the psychology/psychiatry route, despite (one of) my undergrad major(s). It would have been immoral for me to be one, if held up to the current regulations set by the American Psychology Association, or the regulations in my home country. Anyways, lots of problems I wanted to address‒ not sure if I was able to explore them more at length, but I’d like to do more of this in the future.

The book Smoke in your Eyes is a reference to Caitlin Doughty’s book. I highly highly highly recommend her youtube channel and any of her books tbh. She writes/talks a lot about death culture and our perceptions of death throughout history, and creating a more death-positive culture.

I wanted to avoid some of the common stereotypes and misconceptions of OCD, which is predominantly characterized by excessive handwashing, needing things very neat and in place. I wanted to explore the more internal obsessions, rather than focus solely on the external compulsions‒ as I feel like the external behaviors that are often portrayed in media don’t explore the inner workings that make the disorder so hard to live with (and treat).

#twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland angst #twisted wonderland fanfic #twisted wonderland fan fiction #twisted wonderland riddle rosehearts #riddle rosehearts #twst riddle #twst riddle rosehearts #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland scenerios #twisted wonderland sibling

[wyrmbone]

dear estrella,

its mexican independence day and im teaching myself spanish with every free resource i can find.

i miss you, sweet sister, and wish i could find you and talk to you about everything we’ve been through in the last 13 years since i last saw you. i have spent countless hours searching the web for any trace of you, to no avail. all of the dna testing websites everyone recommends cost money and these days i struggle to feed myself, but i save every penny i can in hopes of someday finding you once again. my white family adopted me and kept me from you, from our father, and now i cant even remember your last name. my mother has been dead for 6 years and our dad never married her so i cant look at marriage records to find you or our other siblings. i hope danny and alejandro and guadalupe are doing well, though all i can remember are first names.

i remember being ten together and drinking chocolate milk with beef tamales sitting in the living room floor of your house, and wishing we could be together more. i have a star shaped hole in my heart and i miss you very much. im so sorry i wasnt able to keep track of your phone number and keep in touch all these years, i had a very hard nine years after i moved out of california and have been struggling to make ends meet as an adult.

i long to know what our abuelo and abuelita were like before they died, and how our father is doing. i dont feel like i truly belong anywhere because of how alienated my white family has made me all these years, but im also scared your family wont accept me either as a trans person. i just hope you understand and are willing to accept me as your brother instead of your sister, at the very least. i will try to ask my grandfather if he remembers our dads last name the next time i call, but hes getting so old, feeble and hard of hearing that im not sure if he’ll remember it. i think its something like garcia, martinez or rodriguez but i cant say for certain. no matter what it is i want to find you.

ive never felt more alone than i do tonight while writing this, but a tiny light of hope flickers in my heart that i might find you in the future.

its mexican independence day and im teaching myself spanish with every free resource i can find in hopes of feeling closer to you, dear sister. i hope someday i can find a place where i feel i truly belong, and i hope you’re there, too.

lo siento mi hermana, i love you.

#mexican #mexican independence day #long lost sister #mixed race problems #rambles #my heart aches for my family i may never see again #but i hope someday that changes and i find where i belong

[thelostmagicians]

Booksmart | Steve Harrington

Summary: Steve Harrington’s head may be full of air, but his heart is full of love. [4.4k]

Fluff, comfort, slight angst, insecure Steve

♡

Steve Harrington isn’t a genius. He barely passed his classes in high school, couldn’t get into college, and can barely keep his minimum wage job. He’s been belittled by his parents too many times to care about their opinion and he knows compared to his friends he isn’t as clever or witty, but he’s okay with it - at least he thinks he is. It might sting when Robin and Eddie tease him for being too slow or when Dustin sighs in frustration because he can’t keep up, but the ache dissipates when they look at him in adoration. 

He blames his failing love life on his lack of intelligence. Although girls find his himbo-ness endearing, his relationships never last long.  Most of the dates he goes on end up as dirty hookups in the backseat of his car and on the off chance a girl stays longer than a month he can slowly see the irritation replace the endearment in her eyes. He was just something to do during the inbetween phase of graduation and moving out of Hawkins, a trophy to conquer - to finally have slept with the previously known King. He used to be okay with that at the beginning, he got his needs met while girls crossed him off their list, but over time he craved more. He saw how Nancy looked at Jonathan, how Joyce laughed with Hopper, and how Robin blushed around Vickie. He was desperate for that feeling of being wanted and loved. 

Even though he's surrounded by people who love and accept him as he is, he can't help but wonder if things would’ve been different if he was just a little smarter. 

_

“Robin I’m telling you she started speaking a different language halfway through dinner,” Steve grumbles as he’s shelving the horror section. 

Robin rolls her eyes at him, “Just because you don’t understand the words she’s using doesn’t mean she was speaking a different language, Steven. I don’t even think she knows anything but English. 

Steve sighs under his breath. 

He had gone on another date last night, but didn’t even make it past the appetizers before he made up an emergency and left. The night started off great, the Indiana summer evening had a cool breeze, he opened the door for her, and was rewarded with a kiss on his cheek when he presented her with  flowers. Valerie had been nice, beautiful, and smart - maybe a little too smart for Steve. Don’t get him wrong, Steve loves strong, smart, and capable women. He loved hearing Valerie speak about physics and graphing linear equations, he loved learning about what interested her, but as the night went on he could see the light in her eyes fading as he kept asking her questions. The final straw had been when he told her he hasn’t read a book since high school and she laughed lightly before saying “you really are only a pretty face.” 

“Maybe, I’m just destined to be alone, or like a back up plan for girls who come back to Hawkins after giving up on their big city dreams.”

Robin sighs and gives him a reassuring pat, “Steve, you’re a good man. You’ll find your one, trust me on this.”

Before he can say more the bell jingles as a gust of hot air is let in. Steve groans as he spots Dustin’s mop of curly hair and hears the chatter of 6 other teens. He holds the door open with his arm as he sees Lucas struggling with Max’s wheelchair. 

“You guys can’t keep coming in here, Robin and I actually have work to do you know.”

“We wanted to pick a movie for movie night,” Max says. 

He sighs softly as he meets her eyes. Steve’s always had a soft spot for Max ever since they’ve met and it’s only gotten softer since then, everyone knows this, but the kids tend to take advantage of this and use Max to get their way. 

“Alright two movies max and no rated r ones.”

As he hears the bell jingle again he starts his greeting in a monotone voice, “Welcome to Family Video, my name is St—” he chokes. 

“Oh my god, are you okay?” you ask softly. 

He’s still coughing and panting slightly as he tries to give you a reassuring nod. Robin makes her way to the front to hand Steve some water and finish introductions. 

“What he means to say is his name is Steve and I’m Robin. You can come get us if you have any questions.”

You nod politely, finally tearing your gaze away from Steve as you start browsing through the racks. Steve, however, can’t seem to stop looking at you. He’s seen a lot of beautiful women in his life, but none of them held a candle to you. Everything about you was just perfect to him and he didn’t even know you yet. His eyes repeatedly traced the slope of your nose, down to your plush lips, and back to your furrowed eyebrows as you read the back of a tape. 

You lift your head up and he blushes as you make eye contact. 

“Do you have any recommendations for sci-fi, I just moved to town and need something to keep me from getting bored?” you ask shyly. 

“Err- We have a sci-fi section over there” Steve points to the rack behind him where the kids are gathered and quietly arguing over which movie to pick. 

You speak as you make your way over, “Yeah, but do you have any recommendations for me? I feel like I’ve seen all the good ones already.”

Steve's face falls as he tries to come up with an answer. 

“Have you seen Star Wars?” Dustin speaks up

Max and El groan loudly as you shake your head. 

“I tend to stay away from franchises, but what’s it about?”

Before Dustin can answer, Mike beats him to it, “It’s about galactic adventures of these characters, it’s pretty cool.”

“We were planning on watching it tonight, we always have movie nights at Steve’s on Friday. You should join us!” Dustin exclaims as he tries to shoot Steve a sly wink. 

Your eyes grow wide at the sudden invitation as Steve rests his head in his hands too embarrassed to speak. 

“Is that alright with you, Steve?” You ask kindly. 

Steve’s breath hitches as he hears you say his name, he slowly meets your gaze as he gives you a slight nod trying to avoid choking on air again.

Robin smirks at Steve as she hands you a post-it, “Here’s Steve’s address. Movie starts at 7 and bring as many snacks as you’d like!”

You grab the post-it and shoot everyone a small wave “I’ll see you guys then!”

Steve feels like he can finally breathe after he hears the soft slam of the door behind you. 

_

“I can’t believe you would do that, just invite a stranger to my home like that,” Steve groans as he fixes his hair, again, in the hallway mirror. He glances down at his polo debating if he should change his shirt for the fourth time. 

“Steve, she agreed to come while seeing you in a Family Video vest, I don’t think your outfit is what you should be worried about,” Jonathan teases him as he passes him a coke. 

Steve shoots him a sarcastic smile before checking his watch. It’s 7:02, you should’ve shown up 2 minutes ago and he’s a nervous wreck. He sees your headlights before anyone else does and trips over Will’s backpack as he waits to open the door on the very first knock. 

“Sorry I’m late, the petit fours took longer than expected.” You smile at him holding out a large container filled with small cakes. 

He gives you a confused look too embarrassed to ask what petit fours are, so instead he takes the container and waves you in. 

“What brings you to Hawkins?” Eddie asks.

“I actually came here for work, Hawkins laboratory needed another scientist to look at all the crazy stuff that’s happened here.”

Everyone basks in the uncomfortable silence as you mention the lab before Nancy speaks up, “You work as a scientist? You seem pretty young.”

You hesitate slightly, folding your hands in your lap, “I am young, but I graduated college at 16 and recently got my PhD and my advisor recommended me for this job, so here I am.”

Steve’s heart falls to his stomach, you were a genius, a child prodigy of some sort and you’ve accomplished so much at such a young age. There was no way you would even be slightly interested in him, but part of him was willing to take that risk - be okay with whatever you spared him because it was better than not having you in his life at all. 

The movie is ignored as everyone pays more attention to you and your genius-ness. He hears voices all at once but all he can focus on is yours. The way your laugh ends in a higher pitch than it starts in, the way you softly reassure Nancy that college isn’t hard, but his favorite is when you say his name when you ask for his opinion on the theories the kids present to you. It makes him feel important like you care about what he has to say and you value his thoughts just as much as you would anyone else’s. 

Steve might’ve only met you today, but he was already enamored. You might’ve knowingly opened the door only to Family Video, but you also unknowingly opened the door to his heart and started to fill every corner of it with you. 

_

Steve doesn’t think he’s read this much in his entire existence as he has this month.

The first thing he did the morning after movie night was go to the library and check out as many books as he could about everything that sounded smart. He’s inhaled almost every book on poetry (specifically Shakespeare), astrophysics and European history. You’ve come to every movie night since the first one and you try your best to visit Family Video after work just to chat with Steve and Robin. He was slowly falling in love with you and he wasn’t going to let his dumb brain be the reason he lost you. He forcefully read every book from cover to cover, prying his eyes open with the memory of your impressed smile anytime he fell asleep. He’s made countless flashcards and pesters Robin to quiz them during their shift. 

After two months of revising and memorizing he thinks he finally finds the courage to ask you out. You’re the last one to leave tonight, helping Steve clean up after everyone either left or claimed a spare room. 

Steve’s hands are clammy as he ties the trash bag into a pretty bow, “I was wondering if… I mean you don’t have to… but umm, like if you wanted to go out. With me, I mean.”

Your eyes trace his face as you clench the empty red vines wrapper, “You mean like a date?”

Steve nods, unsure of your reaction. Part of him hopes you’ll say no and put him out of his misery, so he can finally stop learning, but a bigger part of him hopes you’ll give him a chance. 

Your lips upturn in a shy smile as you fiddle your thumbs, “Yeah, I’d like that a lot. What did you have in mind?”

“How about next Friday, we ditch the losers and have our movie night? I’ll pick you up at 7 and we can catch a movie?”

You respond with a quick kiss on his cheek as you grab your purse and head out. Steve rests his head on the back of the door as he pumps his fist in the air and tries his hardest to not  wake Robin and Eddie with his cheering. 

_

You’re nervous as you pace in front of your door. Steve makes you nervous, but you don’t hate the feeling. You’ve never felt this way about a boy before, boys always had a competition with you, a majority of your dates ended up with the two of you trying to up each other with accomplishments, but with Steve everything is different. Even though the facts he tells are wrong, it was still endearing to watch him try. 

You’re broken out of your thoughts with a knock on your door. You smooth down your dress and look in the mirror once more before swinging the door open. Steve stands there in all his glory, hair perfectly done, snug jeans, and a bouquet of flowers covering his stupidly handsome face. 

“These are for you,” he pushes the bouquet towards you with a surprise force that you have to step back to avoid them pressing into your nose. 

“Thanks Steve, they’re beautiful.” You set them down gently at the nearby table mentally making a note to find a vase after you come back home. 

He opens his car door for you, waiting until you’re settled in before jogging back to his side. “There’s a French movie playing tonight, I think it’s about Marie - Annette, you know the queen who liked cake?” 

You giggle quietly but opt to ignore his mistake because he just looked too fucking cute with furrowed eyebrows and a nervous smile. 

“And after the movie I was thinking we can stop by somewhere for a late night snack?”

You nod excitedly eager to finally spend time with him far away from the eyes of your prying friends, “I didn’t know you knew French?”

“Uh, yeah.”

The movie was… boring and bland. Steve didn’t understand anything happening so instead spent the entire time admiring you, the furrow of your eyebrows, the tilt of your head, and the gentle bite of your lip. He remembered you mentioning to Robin that you were fluent in French, so thought a foreign film would be a good idea for a first date, but now he regrets his choice especially since you spent the drive to the diner asking him questions about the movie. Questions he didn’t know the answer to. Steve has charmed his way through life, but he wasn’t sure how much longer his charm would last with you, he had an inkling that sooner or later you would be able to see through his facade and you would see him as a disappointment.

_

You had a hunch that Steve was lying about knowing French and your hunch was confirmed when his shoulders tensed as the ticket guy told him the movie didn’t have English subtitles. He played it off with a laugh and a wave of his hand, but you could tell it made him nervous. You thought the movie was alright, but your favorite part was feeling Steve’s eyes on you. You try to be mindful when asking him questions, keeping them vague and more about opinions rather than asking him questions that have a right or wrong answer. He responds as vaguely as possible, gauging your reaction to see if you’re pleased with his answer or if he needs to backtrack and fix his opinion. 

Your conversation at the diner starts to get more personal as you ask each other about your likes and dislikes. You learn that Steve broke his arm learning to ride a bike, his favorite color is green, and he’s always wanted a dog. Everything you learn about Steve just makes you like him even more and the potential of falling in love with him makes you giddy with happiness. Your hands brush occasionally as you walk back to his car. He bites his lip hesitating to grab your hand as he peeks at you from the corner of his eye. You make the decision for the both of you and take a hold of his hand swinging both your arms as he blushes. 

“You’re really cute Steve Harrington,” you say as you force him to face you before gently pushing your lips to his. 

_

You spend every free time you have with Steve now. It’s been a month since your first date and since then you’ve gone out plenty of times and if you’re not physically together then you’re talking for hours on the phone. Steve’s able to open up to you more than he has to anyone else and it’s only been a few months of knowing you but he knows he’s in love, yet he can’t ask you to be his girlfriend. He does everything a boyfriend should do, calling you during breaks, kissing your bad days away, and hugging you just right when you’re on the verge of tears, but he still can’t find the courage to ask you to be his, officially. 

You express your concern to Nancy and Robin at an impromptu girls night, thrown together after a rough week for all of you. 

“I just don’t know why he won’t ask me, I always want to ask him myself before I see him, but then I lose my nerve. Maybe he doesn’t even like me like that and I’m just reading into things,” you whine as you smear a homemade face mask on Robin's face. 

“Trust me, Steve is a goner for you,” Nancy replies as she squints to make sure her brushes on the nail polish perfectly. 

“Nance is right, Steve is in love with you, but you just make him nervous.”

“I don’t understand why though, how do I make him nervous when he’s Steve Harrington,” you sigh dreamily. 

Nancy and Robin giggle as they see the childish frown on your face. You push your face into a pillow whining into it like a petulant child. 

Nancy rubs your back gently, “Look it’s not my place to say, but Steve isn’t the smartest tool academically. And you’re this child prodigy and that makes him nervous.”

Robin nods in agreement, “Yeah, you do know he spent months reading all sorts of books just to impress you right? He isn’t actually as smart as he pretends to be. He just memorizes a bunch of stuff the days leading up to your date.”

You huff in annoyance, “Yeah, I knew that on our first date when he took me to that French film. But I don’t love him because he can tell me facts about the mesozoic era. I love him because he’s him.”

Nancy and Robin share a knowing look.

“You love him?” Robin whispers.

“What?”

“You just said you love him,” Nancy clarifies.

You breathe in deeply before letting it out, the weight of what you said finally sinking in. “Yeah, I do. I really do.”

Both girls squeal as they pull you into a hug, face masks and nail polish quickly forgotten. 

You fall asleep that night knowing the next time you see Steve you’ll tell him. Tell him how much you love him and how he means to you.

_

Unfortunately for you and Steve, you aren’t able to spend any time alone lately. Work is crazy for the both of you and any time you have off it’s spent with the group. While you love spending time with your friends, you’re dying for a second alone with Steve. A second that only you both can cherish when you finally tell him how you feel. 

You’re hoping you can finally catch a moment alone with Steve at the summer bonfire by Lover’s Lake. Almost every young adult in Hawkins comes out of hiding for this annual bonfire, usually thrown by college kids as a final hurrah before summer break is officially over. You hung out with Nancy and Robin for a while and meet some new people, but you’re aren’t able to find the one person you want to see. You finally spot him parking his car and hurriedly shoving his family video vest in the trunk, but before you call out to him you’re blocked by a freckled boy wearing a smug smile. 

“Well if it isn’t the new genius of Hawkins,” the boy teases, voice filled with malice.

You smile politely, “I’m sorry you’re–”

“I’m Hagan. Tommy Hagan, surprised Steve hasn’t mentioned me considering we used to be the best of friends before he became a loser.”

You’ve heard about Tommy, mostly through passing from Nancy and Jonathan and based on Steve’s disgruntled face every time his name was mentioned, you decided Tommy Hagan wasn’t worth your time. 

“How can I help you?” You ask in a monotone voice to show how disinterested you are. 

Before Tommy can start you feel a pair of arms wrap around your waist and lips brush against the side of your head. You turn to see Steve’s grimace at Tommy before his eyes soften landing on you. 

“Hi hon,” he whispers gently, his left arm moving from caressing your hip to soothing the ache in your shoulder. 

“Hey baby.” For a second it’s just the two of you lost in each other’s eyes, you wonder if everyone else can see how lovesick you are for Steve. Before you can whisk him away for yourself Tommy interrupts again.

“Damn, Harrington. Didn’t think I’d see you go all soft again after what Wheeler did to you.”

You rolled your eyes at the mention of Nancy. It’s been years, both Steve and Nancy were over it, being happy for each other and supporting each other as friends. Yet everyone still brought it up because they had no other dirt on Steve. 

“Didn’t know you were home for the summer Tommy,” Steve replies ready to end the conversation with his former friend. 

At this point you see Jonathan and Eddie glancing from their spot near the fire. Both of them looking at Steve, silently asking him if he needed them. Steve shakes his head at them and squeezes your shoulder readying to lead you away. 

“Yeah, summer is the only time I have off now. Between college and my internship. It’s hard out there man, but you wouldn’t know that, would you?” Tommy smirks knowingly as he pushes Steve’s buttons. He knows college has always been a sore spot for Steve especially since he was still stuck working at Family Video. 

Steve grunts in response hoping his disinterest is enough to stray Tommy away from the both of you, but with Steve’s luck Tommy turns his attention to you. 

“Surprised he can keep up with a genius like you sweetheart.”

You wrinkled your nose in disgust, the term of endearment turning sour coming from a mouth other than Steve’s.

Tommy continues to go on, swaying from the few too many drinks he’s had. “Did he tell you he barely passed high school? His dad complained to mine about how much of a disappointment he turned out to be. Can’t even get a job at his dad’s firm with the brain he has.”

Steve loosens his grip around your shoulder, cheeks flushing in embarrassment. 

“You’re telling me your girl hasn’t caught on to the kind of screw up you are Harrington? You sure she’s a genius, or maybe you found someone that aligns with your IQ.”

At this point everyone is watching the words fly out of Tommy’s mouth, some snickering others shooting Steve looks of pity. Tommy Hagan is ripping him to shreds in front of everyone and yet all he can focus on is you. A look of disappointment mixed with frustration glazing over your otherwise sweet disposition. He sees his friends pushing their way through the crowd but before they could defend him he hears your honey like voice calling out for Tommy. 

“What university did you say you go to, Tommy?” you ask sweetly.

“Indiana University of Business,” he smirks behind his beer.

“And I’m assuming your daddy paid for it? Cause you sure as hell didn’t get into school by your merit, considering you spent most of high school with your head so far up people’s asses that you couldn’t get enough oxygen to your brain. Hence, why you and your stupid ass are still playing into high school politics at your grown ass age.”

The smugness on Tommy’s face disappears. 

“And what do you want to do with your future Tommy? Join daddy’s business? Turn out exactly like him? Cause last I heard he spends more time with his new family than he does with you. Maybe he finally got a child he actually loves.”

You knew it was a low blow, bringing up Tommy’s family issues, but you couldn’t care less. After everything he said to Steve, he had it coming and you only wish you were around in high school so you could’ve put him in his place earlier. 

You heard a low whistle from Eddie, “Well guess the shows over folks. And looks like we have a clear winner.”

People start clearing out going back to mind their own business and you grab Steve’s arm leading him far away from Tommy’s frozen stance. 

“Guess the secret’s out,” Steve mumbles.

“Huh?”

“Now you know I’m not really smart, so..” he trails off.

You smile, arms twisting around his waist pulling him close. “You know, I’ve met a lot of smart people in my life, but don't you dare, even for a second take Tommy’s words to heart. Because I know you, and I know that you’re the greatest person I’ve ever met.”

Steve pinches your chin, holding your gaze before whispering out a shy “yeah?” 

You hear the insecurity laced in his voice as you nod fervently. “I kinda figured you weren’t as smart as you let on from our first date, but I said yes because even though you aren’t a brainiac you have a heart of gold. I see the way you take care of the kids, how you take care of your friends. And I love how you take care of me. I love you and everything about you, Steve Harrington.”

Steve blushes, his cheeks turn a rosy hue as he grabs your waist pressing his lips to yours in a kiss so sweet you think you’ll get a toothache. 

“You really love me?”

“I really do.”

Steve presses another kiss before murmuring out an I love you against your lips.

Yeah, Steve Harrington is stupid. Stupidly in love with you. 

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x afab!reader #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington #st4 spoilers #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington smut #stranger things #stranger things spoilers #steve harrington x reader fluff #steve harrington x reader smut #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington angst #steve harrington comfort #steve harrington drabble #steve harrington fic recs #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington headcanon #steve harrington imagines #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington masterlist #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington recs #steve harrington series #steve harrington thoughts #simon-writes #simon-writes-steve #sh

[jennifer-jeong]

[Fluff] [Genshin Men x Reader] What Made Them Fall For You?

Xiao, Wanderer/Scaramouche, Diluc

CONTENT

Headcanons on what makes the genshin pookies fall for you <3 Fluff, gender neutral reader, men falling for reader, reader is not traveler but is friends with them, mentions of character's trauma, CHARACTERS ARE 18+

AUTHOUR NOTES

I hope to eventually write about all the men >:) it will probably take a while to get to it but I’ll try to keep each one short to encourage myself to finish them all hehe.

XIAO

I think Xiao would start to fall for you because you see through his tough, mean guy act. You can tell that even though his words are harsh and he’s telling you to leave him alone, he’s just protecting you. You might not see it at first, but as you understand his condition, his karmic debt, you understand him. Your realization makes you feel warm knowing that Xiao is really just an innocent soul who wanted to keep you safe. He wants so badly to never hurt anyone ever again and “repent” in solitude even though he has nothing to really repent for; he was forced to kill by his previous master and his karmic debt only comes from killing the remnants of old gods and absorbing their debt.

You start to hang around him more as a result and, much to Xiao’s dismay, he doesn’t hate it. In fact, he actually enjoys how you reignite the warmth in him, the warmth he hasn’t felt in so long since his fellow Yaksha have passed. But did he want to let you in? Shouldn’t he push you away? He’s been alone for so long, why change that now? He felt like he didn’t deserve to enjoy company again, that he didn’t deserve you and your kindness. But maybe just this time… just once, would he allow it.

WANDERER

I think Wanderer would start to fall for you because you make him feel human emotions like he’s never felt before. He’s always searched for a “heart” in the form of a gnosis, thinking it would make him human and make him feel loved and wanted. But even when he had it, it didn’t feel right. Even now, with his anemo vision, he feels more, but still not what he wants. But with you, it feels perfect. Others would probably describe what he feels as something like “butterflies in my stomach” but since he probably doesn’t really experience physical things like that, being a magical puppet and all, he thinks about how you make his vision glow. When he feels a surge of emotions, it feels like he’s using his vision. It feels powerful, happy, strong, and warm, like how a light breeze feels on a sunny afternoon.

You know about his past, what he did, and how the world wronged him. He’s been so traumatized and can barely comprehend his emotions. So when you reach out to him after he regains his memory and a new anemo vision, you try to help him through his emotions in the gentle way that you do. You’re so soft with him and it makes his vision heart ache. He believes he doesn’t deserve you but you try your best to show him otherwise. As you two get closer, you never really notice, but the wind always picks up just a little bit when he sees you.

DILUC

I think Diluc would start to fall for you because you don’t just see him as “the young and rich son of the Ragnvindr family estate.” You see him for him: Diluc. You see a beautiful soul with a broken heart that has put up walls that he intends to never break down again. Others might think that Diluc is just cold, but you and the others close to him know that no matter how cold he may seem, the pure fire that burns inside him always spreads its warmth to those around him. He’s believed for a while now that barely anyone can see what he’s hiding underneath, that people want him for his money, his property, his material things. But you prove him wrong time and time again. You sweetly say hi to him every time you see him not because you want to put on a facade to get on his good side. You don’t help him break up a fight at the tavern and clean up after because you want a monetary reward. You don’t bake him an adorable strawberry cake for his birthday because you want something back. No, you do it because you care, because you have so much love to give, and Diluc feels so lucky to be a part of your life.

He feels his feelings grow for you as time goes on. He feels you getting closer and he barely hesitates to let you in. You didn’t break down his walls, you politely made a door for yourself to enter and it makes you both laugh to think about it that way. He stays reserved around most others but always holds the door open for you, physically and metaphorically.

Thanks for reading!

Part 2 (will link whenever I finish it!!)

|| MASTERLIST <3 ||

#genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin fluff #genshin impact fluff #j's silly ramblings #xiao x reader #reader x xiao #wanderer x reader #reader x wanderer #scaramouche x reader #reader x scaramouche #diluc x reader #reader x diluc #xiao fluff #wanderer fluff #scaramouche fluff #diluc fluff #xiao #wanderer #scaramouche #diluc #diluc ragnvindr

[simpforboys]

my voice will haunt you

drew starkey x fem!musician!reader

summary: during an award ceremony, you honor your grandmother, stevie nicks. but freshly after a breakup, emotions cant help but rise. works for biological or adopted!

warnings: angst, fluff ending, swearing, teasing (the camera men are kinda fucked up), drew and reader are heartbroken but it’s fine, not proof read

listen to silver springs (live) by fleetwood mac!

the pounding in your heart never left until your newly manicured hands clutched the microphone in front of you.

despite your shining smile, your chest ached with fear as the hundreds of celebrities and their families stared at you, front and center of the big stage.

bright lights illuminated your frame, the extra bits of the fabric designed to look like fairy wings hung against your skin.

“hello to the grammys!”

the crowd erupted into cheers as you pulled your face from the mic, sucking in a nervous breath.

“i’m y/n l/n, and with the celebration of my newest album, dread, the grammys have invited me to play tonight.”

you spoke confidently to the crowd, used to performing as your career took off with the help of your grandmother.

any other time you would kill to play for the grammys, but now you all you could feel was dread, because you knew he was here.

“some of you may be familiar with my wonderful grandma, Stevie Nicks…”

as the crowd began to clap and cheer in honor of the legendary woman, your eyes subconsciously began searching the room in hopes you’ll find the deep blue color you became so familiar with.

but he was watching, a pained look hidden deep within his eyes. but he shifted in his seat, feeling a pat on the back from his co-star, Johnathan.

he barely blinked, the aching feeling in his heart deepening. but he was scared that if he closed his eyes for even a second, you would disappear. but then you spoke again.

“so i invite you all to sing with me if you know this iconic song.” you grinned at the crowd, the cameras panning onto the celebrities and artists in their respective seats.

taking in another breath, you heard the okay in your ear piece. as the band began to strum the introduction, you opened your mouth to begin.

“you could be my silver spring, blue-green colors flashing, i would be your only dream,”

Drew felt chills run down his spine as your voice lingered in the crowd. he missed your voice, your personality, your everything.

“your shining autumn ocean crashing, and did you say she was pretty? and did you say that she loves you?”

a tang shot through his body from the lyrics, remembering the reason you two broke up. you had overheard Drew telling his sister that he was conflicted, and while he loved you, Odessa was someone who enticed him.

he felt his eyelids become heavy as he closed his eyes, letting his head hang low a bit. he could feel Madelyn’s eyes drift over to him, knowing that the lyrics meant everything to you both.

“baby, i don’t wanna know. i’ll begin not to love you, turn around, see me running. i say i loved you years ago, tell myself you never loved me, no.”

you picked the microphone up from the stand, beginning to walk around the stage as your vocal cords became deeper, stronger.

Rihanna blew you a kiss as you walked past her, in which you smiled at the gorgeous woman.

unfortunately, it was no shocker that you and Drew recently ended off your three year relationship. being there from the beginning of Outer Banks season one, the fans adored the two of you, more after learning your grandmother.

so, when the news that the “it” couple of the Outer Banks cast got out, a lot of people took it seriously.

“and did you say she was pretty? and did you say that she loves you? baby, i don’t wanna know…oh, no…”

you looked elegant on the stage, your dress flowing as you walked. the band and background singers complimented your voice perfectly, making the performance extra special.

“and can you tell me, was it worth it? really, i don’t wanna know.”

Drew’s eyes returned to you, and it felt like you were specifically asking him the question, even though you were singing to a crowd of people.

and no, it wasn’t worth it. Drew never did anything with Odessa, but you didn’t want to be with someone who doubted their relationship with you.

and so you broke it off, deciding it would be best to have some space from each other.

and it was Drew’s biggest regret.

“time casts its spell on you, but you won’t forget me. i know i could have loved you but you would not let me.”

“time casts its spell on you, but you won’t forget me. i know i could have loved you but you would not let me.”

as you repeated the lyrics, you centered yourself in the middle of the stage once more. unbeknownst to you and Drew, the sneaky camera man zoomed in on Drew’s broken expression.

his eyes were ride, as if in a trance, never wanting to leave you. his usual cheerfulness gone, the sadness radiating off of him as the other celebrities and artists look turns glancing at the man.

“i’ll follow you down ‘til the sound of my voice will haunt you. you’ll never get away from the sound of the woman who loves you.”

you moved to the right side of the stage, approaching the table with Billie Eilish, Timothée Chalamet, Lady Gaga, Anne Hathaway, and Emma Stone.

Billie was singing along to the music, a proud smile on her face as she swayed.

but you felt your heart drop into your stomach with you realized that he was sitting right behind that table.

and as the music picked up, you locked eyes with the man, your skin erupting with goosebumps.

“i’ll follow you down ‘til the sound of my voice will haunt you. was i just a fool? you’ll never get away from the sound of the woman that loves you. was i just a fool?”

the crowd grew silent as it was just you and him in the moment, the guilt radiating off of both your bodies into the air. the sting in your eyes became more evident as your vision became blurry and you hadn’t noticed that all the cameras were locked in on the two of you, sharing your moment for the world to see.

“i’ll follow you down ‘til the sound of my voice will haunt you. give me just a chance. you’ll never get away from the sound of the woman that loves you.”

Drew stared at you with an expression no one has ever seen before; regret, love, and fear. and he just let himself feel, mourning the loss of your presence in his life.

as the background vocalists began to take off, you felt your feet moving back to the center of the stage, trying to compose yourself and not to break down in front of millions of people.

“you could be my silver spring, my blue-green colors flashing.”

as the music ended, the crowd erupted into cheers, everyone in the room standing and clapping.

you hadn’t even realized a tear had left your eye until the drip dangled off your chin, making you wipe it away as you grinned happily.

“thank you so very much for having me. i love you.”

and as the announcers retook the focus, you walked swiftly off the stage.

“you need to talk to her, dude.”

Chase whispered to Drew, everyone at the table staring at him. the man nodded, finally seeming to come back to reality, that you weren’t his girl anymore.

Drew excused himself from the table, knowing where the most likely place you would be at.

he knows that whenever you get overwhelmed you went outside and just listened. listened to the cars, the people, the earth.

so, when he saw you leaning against a wall underneath a large oak tree, he wasn’t surprised.

not knowing what to say, he just decided to lean next to you.

“hi.”

you said after a minute of silence, not bearing to look up at him.

“hi.”

he repeated, his chest heavy. he had so many thoughts and words he needed to say, but it seemed as if something was forcing him to stay quiet.

things had never been awkward between you two. even when you argued, you two always went to bed happy. he never wanted to upset you.

“you were amazing out there, y/n.”

he says, turning to face you. you gazed up at his face, twitching your nose as you fought back tears.

“thank you.”

your words were quiet, and he hated the way your lip trembled as you spoke. all he wanted to do was scoop you into his arms, kiss you all over, and tell you everything was alright. but he couldn’t.

“y/n, i’m sorry,” Drew said, taking you by surprise by his abruptness.

“i should have never doubted our relationship. i was a fucking idiot to ever believe we couldn’t make it. the truth is… i was scared. i was scared you would get tired of being with me, but in the end i lost you. i lost the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

as he ranted his apologies, all you did was stare up at him, retracing every single part of his gorgeous face.

“and i hope that one day you can find it in your heart to forgive me for giving up on us, when in reality the only thing i need in my life is you.”

“i love you, Drew. and these past few weeks have been hell for me. i want to marry you, to have kids with you, to grow old with you. but i need to know you’re hundred percent committed because i cannot go through another heartbreak like this with you again. i emotionally can’t handle it.”

“i swear to you, y/n. you’re the only girl for me, the only girl i’ll ever need in my life. there’s nothing i wouldn’t do for you, and i promise that. i promise myself to you. i love you so fucking much.”

you felt his large hands place themselves on your hips until your chests were pressed up against each other. your arms wrapped around his broad, muscular shoulders. he was wearing your favorite cologne, the one that always made your knees weak.

he leant his head down to capture your lips in his, missing your taste. and as the two of you kissed against the wall, the rest of the world drowned out, Drew knew that he would always keep his promise to you.

#simpforboys #he proposed a month later #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey #drew starkey x y/n #drew starkey x you #drew starkey x female reader #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #outer banks #celebrities #grammys #rafe cameron x female reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x y/n #drew starkey fluff #drew starkey angst #drew starkey smut

[nothingbutsweetwords]

ɴᴏʙᴏᴅʏ'ꜱ ꜱᴏɴ, ɴᴏʙᴏᴅʏ'ꜱ ᴅᴀᴜɢʜᴛᴇʀ

ᴀᴇᴍᴏɴᴅ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ!ɴɪᴇᴄᴇ

"ʏᴏᴜ'ᴠᴇ ʙᴇᴇɴ ꜱᴛʀᴇꜱꜱᴇᴅ ᴏᴜᴛ ʟᴀᴛᴇʟʏ, ʏᴇᴀʜ, ᴍᴇ ᴛᴏᴏ..."

Word count: 3,800.

Fandom: House of the Dragon.

Pairing: Aemond x Reader!Velaryon!Niece.

MEETING - 1. Her.

Her legs, without any command and with an unstoppable perseverance, set off through the labyrinthine corridors of the red keep towards her mother's chambers long before the phrase fully reached her ears, the one she had so longed for: "The baby has been born, my princess."

Her family was her most loved treasure and when her mother announced the big news, time seemed to slow down. She couldn't wait to have that baby in her arms and cherish every second the gods, those she fervently prayed to, would allow her to spend with him.

Every night, in silent supplications, she repeated to any who would listen: "Please, let him be born healthy. Please, take care of my mother."

Rhaenyra painfully held in her heart the memory of her mother Aemma's early departure from the world. She wanted to shield her little ones from all fear and anguish, so she didn't dwell on details about that traumatic episode, one that, despite the years, remained as a deep and open wound. Unfortunately, she couldn't stop the whispers, those that seeped into her daughter's ears, creating such intense fear that she barely had room to breathe during those long nine months.

She felt a smile so wide it would ache her cheeks later and feet that weren't fast enough. Upon reaching the large wooden door, she took a few seconds to take a deep breath, calm her racing nerves, and finally push it open with determination.

Her entrance went unnoticed, as all eyes in the room were on the small human being now peacefully resting in her father's arms.

Except hers, no, those were on the woman sitting on the couch. Her forehead was beaded with sweat, her hair tousled and a tired expression adorned her face; yet never, in her short years on this earth, had she seen her so beautiful.

"Mother" she murmured almost voicelessly, taking her hands in hers and seeking her gaze. She felt her eyes sting, tears threatening to spill, and a lump forming in her throat. She wanted to speak again, but her voice got lost along the way. Fortunately, it wasn't necessary; Rhaenyra knew her as well as herself and could read her like an open book.

"My love, please, have no fear, we are okay" with those simple words, her lungs filled with air, swelling her chest. She let out a sigh, laden with relief, laden with love. She could only nod in response.

"Sister, look!" Jacaerys exclaimed, drawing her attention. He lifted the lid of the large steel chest, releasing steam and revealing a dragon egg. 

"We choose an egg for the baby" Lucerys added.

"That looks like the perfect one, brothers" she said with a smile, though a bittersweet taste filled her mouth. Unlike her brothers, her own egg had never hatched, a disappointment she carried permanently with her, though she tried not to show it in these moments of happiness.

"I let Luke choose" he said, she messed up the younger one's hair and planted a kiss on his head.

"Thank you, Jace."

"Not every day an egg leaves the dragonpit, my princess, I thought it best to escort the lads" intervened Harwin Strong, adorned in his imposing armor and golden cloak. It didn't surprise her seeing him there; in fact, despite having a different last name, she considered him part of her family.

He was her protector, who always escorted her to her room, pampered her with luxurious books, and listened attentively to every word she said. She had more memories of him than of her own father, but she didn't complain; she knew he was a busy man. Harwin had tried to teach her the art of the sword, insisting on the importance of knowing how to defend herself, but she always found herself more interested in books. Besides, she had the feeling that he would never neglect watching her back.

"Laenor and I thank you, Commander" she heard her mother say.

"Father, may I see it?" she asked. Laenor knelt down, allowing the three of them to meet the new member of the family. It only took one look for him to completely captivate her. She mentally swore that nothing would ever harm him as long as she breathed. "What a fine knight you are going to make, eh?"

"Another boy, I heard" Harwin cleared his throat. "Might I?" he asked, seeking her mother's approval. She thought she saw a glimpse of the same relief that filled her eyes.

"Ser Harwin wishes to be introduced to Joffrey" she said, smiling. Upon hearing that name, her lips formed another smile. Of course, she would have been equally happy if it were a girl, but she was glad to still be the only one. It had its advantages.

"Of course" Laenor agreed. Rising, he gently placed Joffrey in Harwin's arms.

"Joffrey, is it?" her father nodded in agreement to the question.

"Mother, please may I hold Joffrey?" she asked excitedly, reaching out her arms towards him. A futile attempt, of course, the man in front of her easily doubled her height.

"No, mother, let me go first! I'm the strongest, I won't let him fall!" her twin brother vociferated.

"I won't let him fall either!" she countered.

Her younger brother joined in the pleas, arguing that he had the right because he was the youngest. Soon, the words melded into an indistinguishable uproar, as all three clamored in unison.

"No, no, no" her father hastened as Harwin turned his back to them, trying to prevent the disturbances from reaching the ears of the newborn.

"I think you left your septa waiting, my little lady, and back to the dragon pit for you two, before they send out a search party" he ushered the three younger ones out of the room, and gently pushed their shoulders, guiding them down the hallway. First, towards the room she had left only minutes ago, where her septa awaited along with Helaena, her mother's younger sister.

Her father left her at the door, and the expression on her face, the one she believed she was successfully hiding, betrayed her. Laenor crouched down to her height, gently taking her cheeks in his hands, making her look at him.

"You know, Leana had an egg that didn't hatch... and she didn't ride a dragon until she was five and ten. Now she rides Vhagar," he tried to cheer her up, "your time will come, dear daughter, I promise."

She was filled with hope at her father's promises. He always had the right words. She thanked the man she loved so much with a kiss on the cheek, and now with renewed energy, she entered the room.

Despite the repeated complaints from the septa, they remained on the floor; she leaned her back against the wall, while Helaena rested her head on her legs. She explored the pages of the book while playing with her hair, and when a passage caught her attention, she read it aloud to her aunt, who entertained herself by watching a long insect walk on her hands. They didn't share the same interests, not even could it be said that they understood each other, but they enjoyed each other's company and were grateful of having another princess of almost the same age as a confidante.

"This one has 60 rings and two pairs of legs on each. That's 240" remarked Helaena.

"Yes, you're right, I think... Did you know that Vhagar is 170 years old?" she responded, her eyes widening at the new information. "That's exceptional."

"The last ring doesn't have legs," Helaena pointed out, overlooking her niece, more interested in the insect "it has eyes, though I don't believe it can see."

She furrowed her brow. "Why is that so?"

"It's beyond our understanding."

She didn't know how much time they had spent in that position, but when she shifted her attention from the book due to noises approaching from the corridors, she noticed that the septa had already left and in her place was Alicent. The new companion was sitting a few meters away from them, holding a cup of tea and with her gaze lost in the window.

Suddenly, two king’s guards burst into the room, each holding one of Aemond's arms, alarming her.

"Your grace" they left without waiting for any response, closing the doors behind them.

"Aemond, what have you done?" Alicent approached him quickly, scrutinizing him, and exclaimed exasperatedly while gripping his shoulders firmly, "after how many times you’ve been warned, must I have you confined to your chambers?"

"They made me do it!" the young prince shouted in his defense.

"As if you needed encouragement. Your obsession with those beasts goes beyond understanding" she furrowed her brow again upon noticing the same phrase that had come out of Helaena's mouth minutes ago.

Returning her attention to the argument in front of her, she noted that the prince's platinum hair and his green garments were stained black. Realization fell into her, she widened her eyes, astonished. Had he really ventured into the dragon pit? Alone?

"They gave me a pig!"

"A what?" the queen asked.

"They said they found a dragon for me, but it was a pig" detailed, his voice breaking slightly.

She knew Aegon and she knew her brothers, and even though she was certain the last two had only been pawns used in the prank, a mixture of anger and disappointment washed over her. How could they tease and deceive the good prince in such a way? Worse still, with something that was also the cause of her tears.

"If he wants one, he'll have to close one eye" the princess beside her said, her gaze still fixed on the tiny entity. She spoke loud enough for only her to hear.

Her words were puzzling, and she didn't know how to interpret them. They could either indicate that she was still in her little world or suggest something deeper; it wouldn't be the first time for either option. She had heard her say... things before; at first, they seemed like mere nonsensical words, and suddenly something happened, something that reminded her of her words, something that led her to believe that her aunt had some kind of magic. No one had paid much attention to her when she shared her theory, dismissing it with disdain, saying they were just coincidences. But to her, it seemed like more than mere chance connections.

"Everyone laughed" Aemond murmured, trying to hide his sadness. Her anger now replaced by deep empathy. Alicent wrapped her arms around him, stroking his back.

The prince looked just as distressed as he left the hug and walked away as he did when he entered. It reminded her of her own feelings of desolation and loneliness, and she thought that there was no one in the kingdom who could understand her like he did. Not really.

She always had a special connection with Jace, a twin connection, as they enjoyed calling it. They understood each other with just looks, laughed at the same jokes, and shared the same tastes, except for the obvious; he loved his sword, she preferred her books. On the other hand, Luke had always been her little and spoiled one, her sweet and innocent child. That's why the situation had affected her so much. She didn't believe her brothers had meant to hurt Aemond, but they did anyway. They were insensitive, and she didn't want to see them grow up like Aegon, who with his character showed that he didn't know the true meaning of consequences.

It had been a few days since the incident in the pit and the birth of her brother, who was under the care of Diana, her mother's lady-in-waiting.

She tried not to lift her gaze from her plate and ate in silence, ignoring her brothers, offering them only monosyllabic responses. She was furious and intended to make it obvious. She huffed in frustration, trying to get her mother's attention so she could bring up the issue to the table.

"My dear, what troubles your mind?" she heard her mother ask as she gave her arm a gentle squeeze.

"Mother, have you heard about the incident in the dragon pit?" noticing her mother's concerned and confused look, she hurried to reassure her, "no one is hurt... not physically, at least."

"What happened?" her mother looked inquisitively at her sons, their heads looking down, ashamed.

"Jace, Luke, and Aegon played a prank on Prince Aemond. They told him they had a dragon for him and gave him a pig with wings, they even named it! Pink Dread." The children couldn't contain their laughter at the memory, which only made her angrier.

"Is that true?" her mother asked, wiping the smile from both their faces. It wasn't common to hear her upset or see her with a serious expression.

"It was just a joke!" Jace tried to justify.

"Aegon planned it!" Luke interjected.

"I don't want to hear justifications" she silenced them. "What if that joke had been towards your sister? Would you still be laughing?"

"It's different" Jace muttered, while Luke's lip trembled in a pout.

"No, it's not. Tomorrow during training, you will offer the appropriate apologies. From the heart. Aemond is family, and we must look out for each other. Isn't that so?"

"Yes, mother" they chorused, serious and repentant.

"Now you may retire to your chambers and think about what you've done," their mother pronounced, and before they could respond, she added, "no complaints." They nodded and left in silence.

"I think Aemond could use some kind words, don't you agree?" Rhaenyra suggested minutes later, breaking the silence. She responded with a smile, thanking her for understanding the importance of this to her. "Who better than you to do it?" She rose from her seat and embraced her gently, for she could see her still in pain. She planted a kiss on her forehead, the kind she cherished so much.

"Rest, mother. I'll ask the maester to make you some tea."

She smiled after hearing her daughter, thinking that any pain felt and to be felt would be an insignificant price to pay considering all she had gained. Jace, the next heir to the throne, who would reign with peace and intelligence; Luke and Joffrey, who would be the greatest and most honorable knights; and her daughter, her eternal and sweet companion.

There was no need to ask questions; she knew where to find him. A few floors up was the library, her second room, her refuge, where the world became a little quieter and she could transport herself to other times, places and lives.

She ascended the long stairs quickly, and within minutes, she stood at the door. This hallway had always been one of the least traveled, practically deserted, except for them and the king’s guards. It seemed there weren't many avid readers in the keep.

They used to be at opposite ends of the table, immersed in each of their books. She had always wanted to talk to him, ask him what he was reading and maybe ask him to teach her High Valyrian. However, she never did; she had been too shy in his presence, and Aemond's distant form didn't help. Perhaps he was shy like her.

Or perhaps he simply didn't want to talk to her.

She tried to push those thoughts to the back of her mind as she entered the library. She smiled to herself when she saw she hadn't been wrong.

"Good morrow, uncle" she announced her arrival as she headed to the usual shelf and picked up the book she had left halfway through a few days ago.

"Good morrow, niece" he responded with his usual seriousness.

She walked to the table and hesitated. Should she sit closer to him this time? She didn't want to invade his space, but she also didn't believe that a conversation should start at a distance.

She arrived at the table before deciding and stood there for a few seconds. She ended up placing her book at the usual spot and sat down, feeling uncomfortable.

Why was she feeling this way? She wasn't the one who played a distasteful joke, besides, he was family; they had grown up together in the castle, it shouldn't be so difficult.

Suddenly, she felt warmth engulf her when she noticed Aemond looking at her, puzzled. With the book still closed, her cheeks turned red as she realized she had been staring at him all this time, lost in her thoughts. She mentally cursed herself and searched for the page she was on. He looked away, not saying a word.

Her mother had asked her to talk to him and she had really wanted to, so she didn't understand why she found it so hard to approach him.

She audibly sighed and abruptly closed her book. He did the same seconds later. As always.

It was curious; every time they were here, they seemed… united, connected in their readings; when she finished, he did too, shortly after. They put away their books, and he walked to the exit, hurriedly, and then held the door, patiently waiting for her to exit. They parted ways upon reaching the floor of their chambers, all without exchanging a word other than greetings or thanks.

The king and the queen did a good job with him and Helaena. She couldn't say the same about Aegon, unfortunately.

She knew it was only a matter of seconds before he got up from his chair, so, with her book in hand, marched towards him.

Aemond furrowed his brow; he didn't seem upset, rather bewildered by the new proximity when she took the seat to his right and opened her book again, an action he imitated seconds later.

She found it impossible to read; she observed the page, but the words blurred together as her mind was occupied with something else. How should she start? It was clear they had something in common. Two things, in fact. Long conversations weren't necessary to know it, so she ventured there.

She cleared her throat, trying to get his attention, without success. Then, timidly, she placed her hand on his, causing an immediate reaction.

He remained still, stunned by her movements. He just looked at her, with eyes wider than usual. It was then that she realized how different they were from the rest of their family. Her grandsire, her mother, Aegon, Helaena, they all had eyes as clear as the sky on a sunny day. But not him, his were darker, bluer, with a trace of purple in them. As deep as the sea, and as beautiful as a sapphire. His hair was straighter, platinum, and even softer, she would dare to say.

How she wished to have the Targaryen attributes, just as distinctive as they were beautiful. Another one of her biggest insecurities and sorrows. It wasn't uncommon for people to be surprised when they saw her and her siblings next to their parents, as they hadn't inherited such beauty. They were equally pale, but with a tumultuous mane, full of curls, of the darkest black and eyes sometimes green, sometimes brown.

Once again, she felt the red fill her cheeks, her gaze lost in him as her thoughts swirled.

"Do you know that my father's sister also had an unhatched egg? Just like us," she said, softly, looking him in the eyes and trying to comfort him, "now she's the rider of Vhagar, the oldest, largest, and most feared dragon in the entire kingdom." 

She waited for a response that didn't come. "I like to believe that our wait will be rewarded, don't you?" then added. He only nodded, almost imperceptibly, without taking his eyes off hers, "I wanted to apologize."

Now with a confused look, Aemond finally decided to respond, "why?"

"They shouldn't have done it... It was cruel." Understanding dawned on him.

"No need to apologize for something that you did not do, niece." She couldn't help but smile at his words. Was he always so serious and formal? She thought he was like an adult trapped in the body of a little boy. An old soul.

"Can I ask you something?" she inquired.

"Yes, of course."

"Did you really enter the dragon pit? Alone?" she asked, curious. She noticed his face changing, a smirk of pride forming, his lips curling up into a small smile as he straightened up in his chair, now more upright.

"Yes, I did."

"Did you see any?"

"Yes, but it was too dark to know which one..." he began, with a spark in his eyes, and noticing her attentive gaze, he decided to continue "it throwed fire in my direction" he added, her eyes wider than before, conveying her astonishment.

"Gods! You must have been so terrified."

"Not really" he simply responded.

"That was... you're incredibly brave, my prince. I wouldn't have had the courage" she said and received a wide smile in return. She had never called him "my prince" before and she had never seen him smile.

She continued to listen attentively. No history book had ever excited her as much as the prince's adventures, and seeing him so enthusiastic about telling them filled her chest with something she didn't know how to name. Something warm. She liked it.

Despite it being their first real conversation, and the first time they looked each other in the eyes, there was a mutual understanding, a connection, different, special. One that went beyond being dragonless riders or relatives raised under the same roof.

It seemed to her that only a few minutes had passed when she felt a knock on the doors and a voice announcing that it was supper time and Alicent awaited for her son's presence. Both of them showed disappointment at the interruption; he seemed to have so much more to say and she hadn't had enough of his words. She thought she could listen to him for the rest of her days.

"Forgive me, niece, I must have tired your ears," he said before standing up, "and I didn't ask about your stories; you must think me rude." His words elicited a laugh from her lips, as it couldn't be further from the truth.

"Not at all, I would have liked to keep listening to you. Besides, I don't have stories as brave as yours, and I wouldn't want to bore you to exhaustion" she replied.

Once they had put the books back in their place, they walked to the door.

"I do not think that's possible" Aemond communicated with his hand on the doorknob. There was silence as they descended the stairs with the guards behind them.

"Goodnight, my princess" he said once they reached the floor, calling her that way for the first time.

"Goodnight, my prince."

"Perhaps tomorrow we could... continue?" It came out almost as a whisper from Aemond's lips. A smile on hers.

"Nothing would make me happier."

#aemond x reader #aemond targaryen #ewan mitchell #house of the dragon #house targaryen #prince aemond #aemond one eye #hotd fanfic #hotd aemond #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x female reader #aemond targaryen fluff

[norrisleclercf1]

Just Come Home To Us

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Female!Reader x Lando Norris

Rating: R

Words: 3.8K

Warnings: Angst, some fluff, Smut, oral (both receiving), p in v, wrap it before you tap it, I'm sure there is some other, also this smut not the best written but hey I finished it

Our Boy Series Masterlist/ Previous: Memories of Old and New / Next: They're My Future, You're The Past

Synopsis: Things are never easy, even when you want to come home.

A/n: One more chapter before the end of Our Boy Main Story!

4 months have passed since that morning after the Monaco Grand Prix. 4 months since your husband kicked you out of the house and their lives. Painful nights alone, filled with tears and nightmares, the only comfort has been talking to Elijah and Cecile every day. Elijah was the ever-good son, telling you Charles and Lando were far from okay. 

His Papa was back in therapy and felt he wasn't ready to see you, not because of the fight, but because he wanted to better himself first. You kept your mouth shut, refusing to let anger cloud your son's judgment of his Papa. Lando, Cecile told you that he was holding everyone together, but she worried no one was there for him. 

It made your heart clench. Lando was the younger of you 3 and always in the middle whenever you and Charles argued. Closing your eyes, you suck in the bone-chilling air of Finnish winter. "Eh, don't fall asleep on me!" With an ache in your neck, you see your father on his snowmobile, grinning. The same grin he'd give Uncle David or Michael before a race. 

"I'm not old man, just enjoying the fresh air." Words are falling off, and the blanket of white surrounding you has your eyes burning. "Just call," Mika whispers, knowing what you're thinking. He could always see those thoughts whirling in your head. An open book is what he liked to call you. "No," Your father mumbles something about how stubborn you are, kicking off the engine and leaving you as he goes through the private course again. 

Why should you have to call? Charles was the one who wouldn't let you explain, even listen to you. He did what he always did: reacted first. A defense mechanism you have experienced one too many times. And this was the last time you'd be subjected to it. Charles has ripped your family apart more than once; this may be the time he succeeded. 

Kicking your own engine, you follow your father to the top of the point, seeing him staring out. "He should be the one to call!" You yell, the wind whipping around you. It was a lashing you have missed, the cold turning your blood to ice and making your lungs expand to suck in the crisp air. "Why?" You hated when Mika did this. He wouldn't take your side. He said that while he loved you, that doesn't mean he'll always defend you. Sometimes, the child must fight their own battle to determine if the war is worth it. 

"Why?" You trudge through the snow, stopping next to your father. Memories of being a little girl, learning harsh lessons, and the screaming matches of forming your own path. "Because he kicked me out and told me to leave. And I did. He ripped this family apart, not me." Mika turns, and you shrink back. Even after the words left, you felt their poison seep in. "The truth is a paper cut, but the lies are the bullet wounds. You did not help your cause when you continued to lie to those men. Good men who have given you a wonderful family and two gorgeous children." Mika sighs, fixing his glasses. 

"You think I don't know this? What do you want me to say? That I lost sleep, sometimes sick to my own stomach, when I watched Elijah grow up? Or when Charles would whisper how much he loved Elijah and me? Because I did. I've hated myself for 16 years; for 16 years, I have lied to the greatest loves of my life. I thought Nico was my air, but he was sea. Swallowing me whole and drowning me. But Charles," You break off, swallowing your tears. "And Lando, they gave me air; for once, I remembered what breathing was like. FUCK!" You scream out into the mountain air. 

"When your mother died, I felt my world slip out from under me. When you started to act out, a part of me felt like I failed. You started to date Nico, and for once, I thought you were okay. Instead, you were slowly dying inside. If your mother was here, she'd kick my ass and then yours." You laugh, wiping your tears, the cold making them burn like acid. "I failed my babies," Mika shakes his head, facing you. 

"You didn't. You never failed those children, just yourself. And that's okay. Because no matter how old you get, you're still a child. My child and we Häkkinens don't make things easy. Just ask your Uncle David." You laugh, remembering how Uncle David would tell you stories about your father. "I miss them. I feel like I'm missing pieces of myself." You whisper. 

"I should hate Charles for the pain he caused me, but then I remember all the pain he's been through. We're both hurt, Daddy, so I fear we might harm Lando sometimes." Mika chuckles, still picturing you 3 as the 20-something-year-olds back in the 2020s. "He's stronger than you think, trust me." Nodding, the two of you drive back down to your cabin. Slowing, you see a blacked-out SUV. "Who is that?" Mika shrugs as he stalks to his own car. "Don't know! See you tomorrow for dinner!" Scrunching your eyebrows together, you open the front door, heat greeting you. 

"Hello?" Slowly entering your cabin, you stop seeing the familiar old, worn-out McLaren jacket. "Lando?" You call, boots pounding as you round the corner and stop seeing the mop of curls with little bits of grey now in them. He turns and stops, and both of you stare at one another. "Hey, gorgeous." Hearing that accent, those green-blue eyes stare at you, and everything comes crashing down. "Oh, god. I'm so sorry." You sob, crumbling to the floor. 

Whatever he was doing is forgotten as he rushes to you, falling to the floor with you as his arms circle around you. "Don't apologize, please don't." He whimpers, his beard tickling you, and you cry harder, hating how much you've missed that ridiculous beard. "You're here, you're here." You repeat and pull back, exchanging messy kisses and words. "Of course I am. It's been a horrible four months. We would've come sooner, but work and," You shut him up by kissing him deeply. 

Lando groans, hands digging into your snow jacket as he relaxes. Pulling apart, you take note of his words. "What do you mean, we?" "He means us." You give yourself whiplash with how fast you look up. Charles stands there, face taunt and glasses hanging onto the end of his nose. You and Lando always say Charles has aged with grace, but right now, he looks like his 26-year-old self again. And it still has your heart skip a beat. Standing, you two stare at one another as Lando looks between you. 

Without a second thought, you rush Charles, and with waiting arms, he accepts you into them. "I've missed you," Whisper of words pass between you two, but he swallows them with his mouth. "Don't talk," He groans, ripping your layers off as Lando whimpers, watching you two. "Come here, baby boy." Lando blushes and grumbles about how he isn't a baby anymore. "You're still our baby," Charles's fingers tug Lando's curls, which has him staggering into you two. 

"Where's the room?" Lando asks as Charles bites and sucks marks into his neck. "Down the hall to the left," You moan as Charles moves to your neck and leads you with a tangle of limbs to the bedroom. Shoving the door open, you three stagger in as they make work of your clothes. Charles stops, lifts you up by your legs, and drops you flat on your back. "Charlie," Lando whines as he lays Lando beside you. 

Your husband leans back, taking in the wreck messes that are you and Lando. "I haven't even fucked either of you, and you're both so wrecked for me." Lando rolls his eyes, and you do, too, with Charles smiling. "That was stupid, Charlie. We're not young anymore." Lando teases and leans up, pulling him down by his necklace. Their kiss is soft, filled with love and emotion, and you swear you feel that hurt grow again. 

Lando pulls away, gently pulling Charles's bottom lip. Leaning up, Lando whispers something to Charles, who has his eyes cut to you and grow dark. "You're right, baby." Charles presses a kiss to Lando's cheek and moves to you. His fingers brush your jaw and then cup it, pulling you up. "Still as breathtaking as the day I met you in the street." He places a soft kiss on your neck. 

"A wonderful mother," Another kiss, and with each praise, he places a kiss before he kisses your lips. "I've missed you more than air," Raising your arms, he helps you out of your shirt, and Lando removes your pants. "Don't leave me again, please." Charles doesn't let you answer as he swallows your words, straddling you on the bed. 

"Easy, Charles. You both need air." Lando reminds me of which has you breaking apart, chests raising and falling. He leans in, pecking you both on the lips. "I love you both so much," Lando whispers and pushes you down, smiling at you both. "Take off your clothes," Charles groans, hating that Lando is still fully clothed. "Who's needy for me now." Laughing, you help Lando out of his clothes. 

"Still a pretty cock, for an old man." Charles's fingers wrap around him, which makes Lando shiver. "Speak for yourself; you're older than me." Charles chuckles, gently jerking Lando off. But Lando doesn't ignore you as he leans down, kisses, licking, and biting his way down, but he stops looking up at you. "I love you," He mouths before closing his eyes as his lips have you gasping. 

"Oh, fuck." Arching your hips up, Lando's large hand pushes you back down and makes eye contact. "Does she still taste like heaven?" Charles rumbles, pulling his hand away from Lando, who whines at losing Charles's touch. Lando moans when your fingers tug at his curls each time he curls his tongue. "Mh, Lan-" You moan louder when Charles bites one of your nipples and ruts up into Lando's mouth. 

Lando pulls away, and you whimper as you are close, but he shakes his head. "Charles, come here. I think you owe our girl a perfect apology." Charles pulls off with a pop and smiles. "I think you're right." Charles moves and stands off the bed, and Lando bites his lip. "Kinda jealous," Charles laughs and pulls Lando into a searing kiss. "Don't worry, you're next." Your toes curl when you feel Charles nudge you as he gets comfortable between your legs. 

"Are you okay?" You stop and think this over. It probably wasn't wise to have sex before talking things through, but damn, you've missed them too much. "Yes, fuck yes, just," Charles moves and slides into you slowly, which has you whimpering. "Easy, you're okay," Charles whispers, dropping over you. His arms cage your head, taking deep breaths to calm himself. "See, old." Charles whips a hand out and twists Lando's nipple, which has him squeak. 

"Jesus, just fuck me, Charles." The two look at you and stop laughing. "Watch your tone." Charles pulls back and slams back into you, which pulls out a whimpering moan. "Lando, you can fuck my mouth." Lando whimpers, hearing that, and the boys move. Charles pulls you close, and he moves in slow thrusts, and Lando gets comfortable for you both. 

"I have missed this mouth. Charlie is good. But you're better." Lando whispers, peppering kisses all over your face. "Missed you too," Opening your mouth, Lando lets you swallow him as he whimpers, screwing his eyes shut. You don't know where your mind went, but every lousy thought has gone away with the two of them here. You've missed them both so much that having them close to you has made you fuzzy. 

"Fuck, baby." Charles groans and drops down, covering your body with his as Lando's hips and Charles's move faster. Lando whimpers pulls away, and wraps his hand around. Charles bats his hand away and takes Lando down his throat, which has you whimpering and clamping down on your husband coming. Lando gasps as Charles sucks him dry, pushing Charles off as he drops to the bed, panting. The three of you are a mess. 

"Don't leave me," Charles whispers as you tangle his hair with your fingers. Exhaustion seeps into your bones, and darkness takes you over. 

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

Charles doesn't know when he wakes; all he remembers is tensing and his eyes flying open. Warmth covers him front to back, and something soft is wrapped around the warmth. Scanning the room, he groans. Memories of the flight, Mika helping them into your cabin, you coming back, the sex. Fuck, he shouldn't have done that. But he missed you, having you wrapped around him as he pulled you apart. 

Eyes move up, taking in Lando's puffed cheeks and mushed curls. He loved watching you both sleep; it was when you were more at peace. Rolling over, he feels his body go rigid. You weren't there, fuck did you leave. Slipping out of his husband's hold, he places a few soft kisses over the marks he has left. "Be back," Lando whines but settles back down. 

Bending down, Charles slides on some sweatpants and follows the light. He stops when he sees you sitting by the low fire on the phone. "I know, baby. I'm glad you and Cecile are having fun with Uncle Carlos." Charles leans against the frame, watching. "Yes, Papa and Daddy are here," Elijah must say something because your face scrunches up. 

"I don't know, honey. Um, Pa...Charles said some stuff during our fight that hurt. So I don't know if we'll get back together." Charles loses his smile and stands up straight. "Elijah, I understand you want me to talk to him, but.....listen. You tell Cecile that I'm okay. Also, please don't give Carlos a hard time, alright. Also look after the twins, oh remember that Oscar's daughter is coming to visit. Yes, Victoria. No, Elijah, don't fight with her. Just, okay, yeah, bye." Hanging up the phone, Charles quickly bolts into the bedroom. 

Lying down, Lando immediately attaches himself to Charles. The door creaks open, and you slide into the bed. But you don't cuddle into Charles; instead, you roll onto your other side, back facing him. 

He was losing you. 

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

"But, it's snowing, and I think it would be nice," Lando begs, trying to get you and Charles to do something together. "Exactly, it's snowing, and we're in Finland. It's not exactly a British winter." Charles grumbles into his coffee. "Yn, pretty please. This is the first time we're in your home country. I want to see it." Lando makes his eyes big, and Charles looks away quickly. 

You groan as Lando starts to smirk, knowing he's got you. "Fine, there is a trail we can take that the locals use. It's about 2 hours, both ways." Lando cheers and rushes to the bedroom. The tension rolls off of you and Charles in thick waves. Putting down his mug, he stands and leaves you with no words or kisses. 

45 minutes later, with multiple layers of clothing, you trail behind Lando, who talks Charles's ear off. "Yes, Lando, I know that." Charles smiles, kissing him gently as Lando takes a picture of the snow-covered mountains. It's another 15 minutes before Lando gets tired of you two not talking. 

"Cecile was wondering if she came here and visited you," Charles staggers, but Lando catches him without a beat. "Really? I guess the kids could come here and visit." It never occurred to you that they could come out and visit. "Yeah, it's a great idea, don't you think?" Charles stops walking as you pass him, smiling. 

"You could come home," Charles whispers, cheeks dusted pink from the cold weather. The scuff you let out had Lando's shoulders tense. He could feel the fight coming a mile away, and this was one place he didn't want to get stuck in the middle. "Do I have a home to come back to? Or will you kick me out again?" The sneer on your lips has Charles's face pulled tighter. 

"Charlie, don't." Lando pleads, placing a hand on his chest, wanting him to calm down. "Your home is with us and our kids." Charles's voice was eerily calm, and Lando knew that all hell would break loose with one more comment. "I think you mean my kids. Or did you forget Elijah isn't yours?" It was a low blow, but all the hurt and anger you've felt over the past 4 months was too much. How dare he come here and demand you go home when he's why you're not home. 

"You're right, he isn't mine. I don't even think you're mine too." Charles snaps as Lando looks between the two of you. Fear in his eyes, as this could be the end. The end of his family. "You're right! I was never yours! And you know what? I should've divorced you after you kicked Lando out. How he can still stay with you is a fucking miracle." Charles's face goes neutral, the same look he had when Mattia told him off. His emotions are gone. 

"When you two get home, I hope Lando has the fucking mind to leave you and take the kids and let your worse fucking nightmare come true!" "ENOUGH!" 

Charles and you jump, turning to see Lando standing there, breathing hard. "Just enough. Please?" He begs the emotions and thoughts he's held together, snapping. "What the fuck is the matter with you? The both of you?" Charles has the mind to look ashamed, as do you. "How could you say those horrible things to one another? We're married! We have TWO gorgeous children and a wonderful life. I know I wasn't there initially, that Charles held you together. That you told a lie because you were hurt and trying to not let it all kill you, but fuck." 

"Y/n," Lando turns, looking at you, before taking a deep breath. "What you've done, said, it hurt. You manipulated us in a way that has cracked this marriage in a way we'll never recover from. But, you know what. I don't care. I don't; you're the love of my life and the mother of my two gorgeous, brilliant, talented children. You could kill me, and I'd forgive you. But you are holding onto such hate inside you for Nico that it's hurting us all. Nico, he," Lando sucks in a breath. "Lando, don't." "Shut up," The two of them stare at one another before Lando looks back at you. 

"Nico, he didn't leave you. He bought a new apartment and wrote that letter to tell you how excited he was and how much he loved you. But you never read the letter because you thought he left you. And that's okay because if you had read that letter, you'd have never fallen in love with us, and we wouldn't have Cecile. Y/n, you're not in your 20s anymore. Please, you need that closure when you come home. Because this is not your home, please talk to Nico. There is a piece of you that you're hiding from us because of him, and I have ignored it for 16 years, but no more." Reeling from his words, Lando turns his attention to Charles. 

"And you," He points his finger at Charles, who curls back like Lando has slapped him. "Grow up, get over it. She didn't cheat on us, she didn't fuck him while you two were together and then lie. She never told us who the father was; she moved the truth around. I know that losing your father and Jules was the worst pain imaginable and then losing Anthoine, and that was another person who left you. Charles, we're not leaving you, but we will if you keep shoving us away." 

Charles looks away as the silence surrounds you. "Charles, Charlie, look at me." Charles looks up, staring deep into Lando's eyes. "Elijah is yours, Cecile is yours. Y/n and I are yours. Never think that will change. Elijah is your little boy, the first person he goes to. Listen to me. We're all going to therapy because I refuse to let this relationship fail. If you two don't get your shit together, I'm taking the kids and leaving. Now, fucking TALK!" Lando screams and shoves past Charles and down the trail, leaving you two some peace. 

You two stare at one another; Charles opens his mouth to say something but keeps closing it, unable to say a word. 

"You didn't follow me," Charles snaps his eyes, shocked at your words. "For four months, Charlie. You didn't call, text, write, or even ask about me. Four months of hell, and you come here and then demand me to come home." Stepping closer, Charles takes a step back. 

"A part of me was scared that when I got here, you'd kick me out. And that terrified me. I don't care that Nico is Elijah's," Charles swallows the words and clears his throat. "I care that you didn't trust me for 16 years. Care enough to tell me the truth. After talking to Nico and reading the letters, I understand why. But, fuck," He rips his hand out of his jacket and wipes the tears away. 

"It's all my fault. I went back to therapy and realized that, but a part of it is your fault, too." You scuff, but stop thinking it all over. "He hurt me more than I want to admit. I just wanted to cause him pain, and by causing him pain, I hurt us both." Charles hiccups, wiping away the tears faster. "Four months, that's how long Cecile and you haven't talked to me. We need you home. We'll go to therapy. Hell, I'll stop racing if it means you stay. I'm going to fight for our family." You throw yourself into his arms as you two cry in the snow. 

"Also, Lando is ready to kill Nico on command, and so am I. Mika told us what he said to you, and I'll skin that fucker." You laugh as Charles pulls you back into his chest. "Oh, also, could you possibly call your Uncle David off. While commenting, he's destroyed Lando and me, and it's not fun." You laugh louder, but it stops when the crunch of snow has you facing the sound. 

"Thank god, can we please go home. I'm about to freeze my balls off, and I know you both love my balls." Lando whines; Charles and you share a look and smile. "Yeah, let's go home." 

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

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[lxclerc]

𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞 | 𝐜𝐬𝟓𝟓 & 𝐜𝐥𝟏𝟔

SUMMARY: you don’t realize what you have till you lose it, a lesson charles had to learn the hard way. REQUESTED: yes WARNING: angst, SMUT, 18+, threesome, oral (both m & f receiving), choking, p in v, unprotected sex, spitting, overtimulation, manhandling, praise kink, degragation, probably some dumbification somewhere in there PAIRING: carlos sainz x reader x charles leclerc WORD COUNT: 7.1k

NOTE: this took so long to finish but i’m just happy it’s done. please know that the only instruction i got from my friend who requested this was "angry charlos smut" after monza and that i probably won't be writing smut like this soon again so soon

part 1: moth to a flame

MASTERLIST

The scene before you now is a familiar one. It’s so awfully familiar that it makes your heart ache again. Staying up and waiting for a call from Charles after a night out isn’t out of ordinary for you but you thought you were both over this. Yet still, waking you up from your slumber was Charles, slurring over his words as he asked you to pick him up, far too drunk to drive and forcing you out of the comfort of your bed as you grabbed your keys. 

This time though, you aren’t alone. Carlos had flown over to you after you were unable to travel with the team, desperate to spend time with you before Silverstone. That meant that the last time you saw Carlos was three weeks ago and it's a surprise how much you missed each other terribly. You never talked about it but you both know it isn’t just sex. Carlos may play your body like a violin but he always touches you so gently. He looks after you, notices your small discomfort that he’s quick to amend. He holds you against his chest softly even when you’re not naked. 

In the three weeks you were unable to see him, the two of you spend most of your days exchanging texts, your nights with each other on facetime as you sleep and so given the first chance considering you won’t be able to go to him, Carlos offered to fly to you in Monaco and you hadn’t even thought twice before agreeing. Three days together after not seeing each other for three weeks feels far too short, but you’ve gotten greedy. You’d happily take whatever he offers. 

That being said, the two of you could be spending doing much more productive things than picking up your best friend from the club. Carlos had told you as much but you know you’re unable to completely abandon him. 

It was becoming clear to Carlos though. Despite everything, when Charles calls, you will always come running. Some part of him is willing to acknowledge he’s being unfair. You and Charles have been friends before either of you could talk. You spent nearly your entire life together. And you’ve always been good, always been kind and willing to help. Carlos should have known you wouldn’t just leave Charles to fend for himself.

However, he’s clouded with irrational jealousy at the moment, his hand gripping the steering wheel so tightly that his fist is turning white. Tension rise as you sat quietly in the passenger’s seat, trying to make yourself as small as possible. 

You know his anger is justified. He’d be leaving tomorrow morning and you’d promised your night to him. Neither of you are sure when you’ll be able to see each other again. Even this meeting you knew took lots of effort on his part. He canceled so many meetings and appearances, prioritized spending time with you rather than his family and here you were, running back to the arms of a man who never truly valued you instead of spending time with him.

And it’s not like you needed to be the one to pick up Charles. You could have very well called one of his brothers but perhaps it was leftover feelings or perhaps it was the clear broken way in which he said your name. Either way, you’re unable to stomach the thought of passing him off to someone else without knowing if he's okay. The two of you had been through too much for you to do that. 

“I can get him myself,” you finally spoke up as Carlos parked in front of the famous Monte Carlo club. You don’t want to bother him more than you already have and he looked annoyed enough as it is. “You can just wait for me here.”

Carlos raised an eyebrow as he met your eyes, instantly causing red to tinge your cheeks. He looks furious but not even that can stop your body from reacting to him. He still looks beautiful even though he looks murderous. Stepping out of the car, he offered you his hand, entwining your fingers together. “Let’s go.”

Carlos may only be wearing a hoodie paired with Nike shorts looking like he just rolled out of bed but everyone still turns to him anyways, whether because they recognized him or simply because he still looks absolutely breathtaking despite the minimal effort in his appearance. Personally, you’re leaning more on the latter. 

It didn’t take long to find Charles, the monegasque hunched over a table as his hand gripped a glass of what you can only assume to be alcohol. His cheeks all the way to his neck and ears are red and you can’t help but run to him in worry, immediately attempting to support his body.

He squints at you and you can’t help but take notice of the bags under his eyes. No, this isn’t just some random drinking spree. Charles, more often than not, knows his limit well when it comes to alcohol. He only ever allows himself to get this drunk when he’s determined to force something down. “Y/N?” 

“Charles,” you breathe out as Carlos reaches the two of you, looking significantly more annoyed as you try to hoist your best friend over your shoulder. “On va te ramener chez toi.” Let’s get you home. 

Carlos removes his teammate’s weight off of you, placing an arm around his shoulder as the two of you all but drag him out of the club, aware of the many many eyes trained on the three of you. 

“Je veux rester avec toi,” Charles muttered, slurring over his own words. “Tu m'as manqué.” Want to stay with you…Missed you.

You turned to your spaniard companion, hoping he isn’t able to piece your conversation together, but Carlos is staring right ahead, making a point not to look at you as he jaw clenched, entire body stiff with unreleased tension. 

How many times will you run to Charles? How many times will you drop Carlos’ hand? How many times will you cancel plans? Would Carlos have to settle for this? Would he always come second best after his teammate? Second driver, second lover, second choice. Always coming second, alway too late. 

After the two of you buckle Charles in the backseat, you reach for him, placing your hand against his cheek as you all but force him to face you. He looks tired, probably as tired as you do but he still looks beautiful anyways. Carlos Sainz is ethereal. There’s simply no other way to describe him. From his perfectly arched brows to his tan skin, he’s all you’ve ever dreamed about. 

“I’m sorry,” you say, voice low and a little bit terrified and the sight of you trying to make yourself look smaller next to him all but breaks Carlos’ heart. 

You don’t seem to understand that with him, you’ll never have to make yourself small. With him, you’ll never have to try and take as little space as possible. You never have to lower your voice or speak gentler in fear of inconveniencing him. With him, you can be you; fully and unapologetically and he’ll still find you to be the most beautiful girl to exist. 

You are nothing short of perfect in Carlos’ eyes. Even if you’re breaking his heart. 

He grabs your hand on his cheek, entwining your fingers together as he plants a soft kiss on your knuckle. No words need to be said as he starts up the car and pulls out of the parking lot, his hold on your hand seemingly only getting tighter, terrified of the possibility that you might let go again. 

— 

Returning to your apartment, you let Carlos carry Charles inside, flopping him down on your uncomfortable couch. You kneel before your best friend, lightly removing his shoes and putting a pillow under his head. 

“Y/N,” Charles muttered, eyes fluttering. 

“Va dormir,” you tell him softly. Go to sleep.

Charles seemingly hummed something under his breath, a confirmation you thought as you stood up, more than ready to return to the comfort of your bed before Carlos’ flight in a few hours. 

“Y/N.” And yet just as you’re about to turn, Charles’ hand wrapped around your wrist, stopping your movement and forcing you to look back at him. He’s still as drunk as he had been but his eyes are open now, green eyes you used to adore staring back at you. “You’re so beautiful.”

You freeze. Of course he’s called you beautiful before but not like he’s doing now, not with how he’s looking at you now. You can practically feel Carlos’ stare at the side of your head as you swallow the lump in your throat. “Go to sleep, Charles.”

But he’s still not letting go of your hand, only staring at you as though he’s seeing you again for the first time. He’s looking at you as if you’ve transformed into someone new, someone he doesn’t recognize, but someone that has him staring in awe. “I’m in love with you.”

You’d be able to hear a pin drop with the silence that enveloped the room but you’re only frozen in place, the words you’ve wanted to hear so badly ever since you could remember only seemingly breaking your heart. A part of you, the part of you from years ago, is desperate to say it back, to jump into his arms and let him make everything better. 

But the you now, the you that had touched Carlos, that let him touch you, the you that have laid with him from the other side of the world with your phone cameras on giggling the night away till your stomachs ache and your cheeks hurt from smiling, refuses to let you open your mouth. Charles may have been your past and for the longest time, you so desperately hoped he’d be your future but the truth remains that Carlos is your present and everything in you wishes he’d be more than that. 

And so you stood there, in between the two men, one holding your hand and the other holding your heart. 

But the silence is broken as Carlos pushes himself away from the wall he was leaning at, not even bothering to look at you as he went into your bedroom, slamming the door behind him and leaving you in shock. 

How you ended up in this situation, you aren’t too sure but you can only hope Charles is speaking nonsense in his drunken stupor. In the silence, Charles had laid back down, breathing already even as he slept so peacefully after having dropped your hand moments ago, not at all aware of the mess he’s created.  

You sigh, stepping away from Charles and going into your room to find Carlos folding up his clothes as he fixes his luggage. He looks as tired as you felt and you don’t hesitate walking behind him, wrapping your arms around his torso as you place your chin on his shoulder. 

“You don’t have to leave yet,” you whisper against his shoulder, a slight tremor in your voice. 

But Carlos only steps away from your hold, continuing to shove his clothes back in his luggage in an attempt to collect his thoughts as you sit down at the edge of the bed wondering how what was an amazing three day break turned into this.

Eventually, Carlos faces you, lightly tugging on his hair in frustration as the sad look in your eyes tugged at his heartstrings. He's always been in control. In control of his life, of his car, of his emotions. But when he looks at you, he feels helpless. You hold so much power over him and you don't even realize it.

“You have to figure out what you want, Amor, because I want you. But do you want me or do you want him?”

The thought of how much he's willing to give and to do for you is almost frightening.

“Carlos–” 

But he cut you off as he walked over to you, holding your cheeks in his hands as he planted a kiss on your forehead before he grabbed his luggage and walked out. 

—

When the sun shined the morning after with Charles beginning to wake, you were already up, a cup of coffee warming your hands and dark bags under your eyes. There’s a glass of water and pain medicine waiting for Charles once he finally manages to get himself up. 

You’re wearing an oversized shirt that reaches your thigh, one that obviously doesn’t belong to you, a fact that Charles tried his best to ignore as he took his seat before you. “Bonjour. Je suis désolé pour la nuit dernière.” Good morning…I’m sorry for last night.

You only hummed in response, mind still racing. Without Carlos, you weren’t able to sleep at all, his last words echoing in your head along with Charles’. All you can think about is how the two of you had planned to check out a newly opened cafe down monte carlo today before his flight but now you’re left sulking in your kitchen with your hungover best friend. 

“Where’s Carlos?” Charles finally had the courage to ask, glancing at your bedroom door as if he’s expecting the Spaniard to appear out of nowhere. 

But your voice, a little strained and a lot tired, brings his attention back to the table. “He got an earlier flight.” 

“Oh,” was all Charles said. He has a nagging feeling his sudden intrusion is the cause of Carlos’ change of plans, one you’re obviously not happy about if the deep frown on your face is anything to go by. 

For a moment, the two of you remain in silence. For the first time in his life, Charles doesn’t know how to talk to you. Your sweet, easy smile that he adores isn’t present, replaced by a frown as you stare at your coffee as though you don’t even notice his presence. Despite being only having a few feet between you, you feel so far away.

Charles knows though. Unfortunately, he isn’t one of those people who conveniently forgets every stupid thing he does or say while drunk. He doesn’t get the luck of forgetting everything when morning comes. Instead, he actually has to live with the embarrassment and consequences of it all.

It’s not like drunken confessions are new for the two of you though. On your 19th birthday as Charles tucked you in bed, making sure to remove your makeup, you had drunkenly confessed just how in love you were with him. He stared at you in shock, movement stilling as he swallowed the lump in his throat before gently letting you know that he can’t offer you anything more than friendship while simultaneously breaking your heart. And after that, you convinced yourself you were content with it. You were content with being in his life, being the one by his side. It didn’t matter how much it hurt or how many nights you spent crying because at least you still have your place by his side. At least you still had him. 

When the two of you were 21 after a night out that quickly turned into Charles calling you up to pick him up, he had drunkenly curved himself around you as he made you promise to never leave him. He talked about the future you’ve always dreamt of, one with you walking down the aisle and him being the one waiting for you at the end of the altar. He told you he loved you as the two of you slept with your hands entwined, a new kind of hope that ignited in your chest up until he apologized the next morning, telling you it meant nothing and he had just been drunk. It was cruel but you stayed anyway.

You stayed because he needed you. He’s always needed you. He needed you through your childhood, he needed you through your teenage years, he needed you after Jules’ death, he needed you after his father’s death, he needed you after anthoine’s death and now, he needs you still after every bad race. Charles has always needed you but the problem was that he’s never wanted you enough. 

“About last night,” he starts, causing you to immediately look up at him, a kind of plea in your eyes. “Y/N, I-”

“Don’t,” you cut him off, your voice shaky. “Don’t say anything. If you don’t say anything, I can pretend it’s just another drunken mistake, one you never meant to make. Please don’t say anything.” 

“But I did mean it.” There’s a certain kind of desperateness in Charles’ voice as he says it as though he needed you to hear it. But god you’re so fucking tired of always prioritizing what Charles needs. “I’m in love with you. I think I always have been.” 

“Stop,” you tell him, a break in your voice as your eyes pooled with unshed tears but they aren’t sad tears. Instead, they’re angry tears as you look down at him. “It’s unfair, Charles. You’re being so unfair!” 

Charles’ head dropped to his hands. What a mess he’d made of things. “I know, I know. I’m so sorry.”

“You don’t know. You’ll never understand. I have loved you for as long as I can remember. I have always put you first. I stuck through everything. I stayed even though it hurt so fucking much. I have been with you through every girl you liked better than you ever liked me. I waited and waited and fucking waited,” your voice is shaking with anger as the tears falls and Charles hates himself a little bit more with each passing second. “How dare you tell me you’re in love with me now? You are cruel and unfair.”

Charles wanted to cry too. He wanted to hold you. He wanted to go on his knees and apologize for being the world’s biggest idiot. Why did he only realize his feelings for you just as he lost you? There was nothing else to say.  “I’m so sorry, Y/N.” 

“You’re not in love with me, Charles,” you said, sounding so sure as if it’s a mere fact of the universe. “You’re not in love with me. You just hate that I’m not in love with you anymore.” 

—

Despite what the world thinks, Carlos Sainz is a wicked man. He’s territorial and possessive. His wants are primal and like any predator, Carlos will haunt and stalk, claim and mark. And there’s nothing he wants more than he wants you. 

And Charles Leclerc is a hindrance, a bump on the road. The moment you arrived on his doorstep, apologies in your eyes as you declare yourself as his, Carlos could barely keep his hands off you. The next race weekend, you had appeared in the paddock in a skimpy dress showing off the marks on your skin as Carlos sent Charles an arrogant smile. 

It was a little bit ridiculous, so much so that the team and fans alike are starting to take notice of the tension between the two Ferrari drivers. Whereas they were able to keep work and private matters separate before, they struggle now. Carlos is arrogant and Charles is bitter. Carlos, whose arms are always around you, whose lips are always on your skin, whose scent follows you like it’s engraved in your DNA, has seemingly done everything he can to show Charles that he’s won. It’s him you chose and Charles you left behind. 

Charles, for his part, hasn't been doing much to relieve the tension. He has no problem reminding Carlos it’s him you loved first, it’s him you spent every milestone with, it’s him with you in every childhood memory, that he is a part of you as much as Carlos is. 

Of course though, everything must come to an end and it all seems to boil over in Silverstone. The unbearable tension only seems to thicken as the race comes to a close with Carlos taking his first ever win and Charles getting nothing but P4. 

The moment he stepped down on the podium, Carlos was on you like a starved man. His hold on you is bruising, his kisses demanding and you absolutely loved it. 

“Carlos–” you start but he cuts you off by connecting your lips together, pushing you against the wall as one of his hands goes on your bare leg.

At that perfect moment, Charles stepped into the hallway, eyes immediately landing on the two of you. He looks disheveled, disappointment written all over his face, a deep contrast to Carlos’ arrogant smirk.

 He’s at the top of the world, so much so that he’s ready to put an end to his and Charles’ pissing contest over you and he knows exactly how to do it. “Why don’t you join in?” 

Both you and Charles turned to him in disbelief. Join in? The three of you? 

Carlos faces you, the same smirk on his face. “You don’t mind that, do you, angel? Why don’t we give Charles a show for being such an amazing teammate today?”

Your cheeks colored pink, the idea of four hands on you turning you on more than you’ll ever admit. Shyly, you shake your head.

But Charles is still frozen in place, the undeniable tightness in his pants becoming hard to ignore as you all but grind against Carlos race suit, looking so desperate and needy that he just wanted to fuck you there and there.

“What do you say, mate?” Carlos asks again, hand rising to cup your breast. “I’ll teach you all about making her cum.”

And that does the trick. His pride and ego refuses to let that one go, having taken enough beating today than any man would ever like. He can make you cum on his own, thank you very fucking much. 

That seems to put him into motion as the three of you enter Carlos’ drivers’ room, Charles’ lips eagerly going to your neck as Carlos claims your mouth. 

Carlos’ hands on you are firm and demanding, keeping your body pressed up against his despite Charles’ hands placing themselves on your waist, his chest hitting your back as he planted feathery kisses on the sensitive skin of your neck. Charles’ touch is so soft, so hesitant as though he’s terrified you’d break if he pressed a little harder but Carlos’ is so demanding, so firm as though you’re his to touch and use. 

“Get on your knees, hermosa,” Carlos tells you, pulling at your lower lip before he finally let go of you, a smirk on his face. “Let’s show Charles what he’s been missing.”

Charles watched the way you stared up at him under your lashes, looking like the perfect picture of innocence if only you weren't moving to kneel in front of him, nimble fingers working to push his race suit down. 

He’s not too proud to admit that he’s dreamt about this for too long, wondering exactly how your hands and mouth would feel around him. And he’s definitely not too proud to admit that even way back in his teenage years before any of you truly understood what love meant, the exact sight of you right now were the ones to fill his fantasies at night. 

Charles hissed the moment your hand wrapped around his cock, making Carlos smirk at the simple reaction as he sat himself on the couch, watching the way your eyes are trained on him instead of the man who’s cock you’re holding. 

Even when giving a blowjob, your eyes will always follow Carlos.

“Go on, angel,” Carlos encourages, reaching forward to tuck your hair behind your ear as your hand starts moving up and down. “Get him off.”

Charles can almost see the immediate change in you upon Carlos’ demand, your movements becoming more assured as he throws his head back, unknowingly reaching to tug at your hair. And when you put his tip against your tongue, he’s sure he’s in heaven, your warm lips wrapping around him as you bob your head up and down with Carlos reaching to gather your hair into a makeshift ponytail. 

There’s a cheeky grin on Carlos’ face that infuriates Charles more than he’d like to admit – as though he doesn’t feel threatened at all despite the fact that you’re on your knees for him. 

“Going to ruin you, corazon,” Carlos muttered against your ear as he moved by you, planting a kiss on the sensitive skin below your ear. “You want that?” 

You’re quick to nod your head, the vibration causing Charles to hiss again as he couldn’t help the way he thrusted into your mouth, feeling his release coming as you take him as far as you could go, his tip hitting the back of your throat. 

With him hanging dangerously close to the edge, Charles pulled himself out of your mouth, groaning at the way you’re staring at him as though you’re wondering if you’ve done something wrong. 

Carlos only laughs as he gently guides you so you’re leaning against his chest, not wasting any time in pulling your shirt off of you. “Come on, mate. I’ll even give you first taste.”

God, Charles hated how cocky Carlos sounded. He also hated how self assured the Spaniard is when it came to handling your body, not a single second of hesitation in his movements as his thumb started flicking at your nipples, making you throw your head against his shoulder. Carlos knows exactly how to touch you to make you want more, to get a reaction out of you and he has no problems reminding Charles of it. 

And Charles realized exactly what had spurred this on. Letting him have a taste of you didn’t come from the goodness of Carlos’ heart. Rather, it’s all part of his plan to show Charles exactly where he stands. 

Carlos isn’t threatened because Charles may get to have you today but Carlos gets to have you anytime and wherever he wants. 

And if Charles had any ounce of self respect, he would have turned around now and told his teammate to get lost but he’s never claimed to be smart and so he kneels before you, pushing your legs apart. 

“Can I take it off, ma belle?” He asked softly and Carlos nearly laughed again. 

Nonetheless, you nod your head and Charles doesn’t waste any time removing your pants. He lays on his stomach, nose ghosting over your clothed cunt which makes you let out a whimper. 

“Please,” you all but scream out as Charles blows air into your cunt, teasing you as much as he could. 

Carlos’ hand wraps itself around your neck, squeezing just enough to shut you up. “What did I say about whimpering, hermosa?” 

And Charles absolutely hated the way it’s so natural for you to heed Carlos’ orders. He hates how much control the Spaniard has over you and he hates Carlos for playing such a cruel and elaborate joke. 

Finally, Charles removed your underwear, chucking it somewhere behind him and the cold air hit your most sensitive area, causing you to erupt in shivers. His finger is slow when it comes to touching you, ghosting over your clit before it eventually pressed down, gathering your wetness and spreading all over your cunt

Your hands gripped at Charles' hair as his finger entered you, pumping in and out as his tongue circled your clit. 

“Fuck,” you breath out, eyes rolling at the back of your head. 

“What did I say about making noise?” Carlos taunts, his hand around your neck tightening for a fraction of a second. “Stupid already?”

You only grunt in response as Charles’ added another finger, scissoring them inside you in order to stretch your hole. 

Carlos brought his lips on yours and you couldn’t help but moan into his mouth as you eagerly kissed him back. Charles fingers and mouth are igniting your body but he’s moving too slowly, not giving you enough stimulation and friction to chase after. You’re so used to Carlos’ usual brutal pace, never truly giving you enough chance to breathe as he goes down on you that Charles’ careful movements aren't bringing you as close to the edge as you’d like. 

Carlos must have noticed the lack of your breathless panting because he’s smirking again before turning to Charles. “She likes it rough, mate.”

Charles looks annoyed, not having appreciated being guided or interrupted. “Fuck off.”

But nevertheless, Charles’ fingers quicken, so much so that you’re suddenly gripping Carlos’ thighs, nails digging on his skin as Charles hadn’t bothered warning you before he added a third finger in, pumping in and out of you at such a brutal pace that you instinctively attempt to close your legs only for Charles to pry them open as his thumb worked on your clit. 

The Monegasque is nibbling and sucking on the skin on your thigh, leaving marks and trailing kisses as if his fingers aren't abusing you. 

“Look so pretty like this, angel,” Charles tells you, eyes clouded with lust as he watches the way your body shakes, your walls clenching around his fingers and alerting him that you’re nearing your orgasm.

Carlos cooed at you. “I think she looks like a common whore. Letting us both touch you like this. You like this, baby? You like being shared?” 

You barely have enough sense to form coherent thoughts, much less to actually answer him but Carlos never did like being ignored, his fingers pinching at your nipple, the shot of pain bringing a little bit of your sense back as Charles’ fingers doesn’t stop assaulting your cunt, so stretched out that he’s slipping so easily right in. 

“Answer him like a good girl, baby,” Charles tells you, pretty green eyes staring straight at you.

God, their contrasting personalities might just be the death of you. “Y-yeah. Fucking love it.” 

“Watch your mouth,” Carlos warned lightly but his mouth was on you again before you could even process what he said, swallowing down your moan as you finally let go of the knot that had been forming in your stomach, your cum spilling out of you and into Charles’ hand. 

Your body sags against Carlos’ chest as Charles gently pulls his fingers out of you, licking them clean. His eyes shut as the taste of you spread on his tongue, so dirty and sweet and everything he’s ever imagined. 

But before you could even try and recover, Carlos is already effortlessly removing you away from him, placing you on the cold floor as he situates himself between your spread legs. “One more.”

“No,” you try to protest, much too sensitive to take another one so soon but Carlos seems to find your protest funny as he lets out a chuckle, not bothering to give you a warning before his tongue is diving deep into you. 

“We both know you can take more, niña bonita.” 

The reminder that the two of you have done this many times before wasn’t what Charles needed as Carlos licked a stripe between your folds.

“Oh my god,” you breath out, breathless as your hand flies to his hair. 

Charles' hand reached towards you, cupping your jaw as he all but forced you to face him before meeting your lips, his hand going to your right breast and squeezing a little. But Carlos refuses to give you a second to breathe as he nibbles at your most sensitive bud, catching you completely off guard as an unusual loud moan escapes your lips. “Carlos.”

Carlos is smirking against your clit, his tongue coming in and out of you before lightly sucking on your clit and licking a stripe between your folds. It’s a cruel pattern, one that he’s already perfected as he tugs at your legs, pulling you closer towards him. 

“So messy,” Carlos muttered against your cunt, the vibrations from his words causing you another shiver. 

But you only whimpered in response as Charles’ hand wrapped around himself, slowly pumping as he listened to your soft moans. 

You were already shamelessly close. It’s never been hard for Carlos to bring you to your orgasm after all and nothing is processing in your brain apart from the overwhelming pleasure his mouth is giving you, knowing exactly what spots to hit and which movements to do in order to have you moaning out. 

“I’m coming,” you muttered, only having half a mind as you’re all but lost in the pleasure, your vision blurry from unshed tears. 

Carlos’ tongue sped up as his finger entered you, curling for perfectly inside you in order to reach your most pleasurable spot as your body involuntarily arches. You practically squealed as your orgasm approached you, making a mess all over Carlos’ chin. 

“God,” you muttered, trying to find the strength to lift your head in order to look at him as your breaths came in pants, your legs shaking and having turned into pure jelly.

But Carlos is smirking at you, that mischievous glint in his eyes ever present. “I’m not done, cariño.”

He said it so simply and in your dazed out state, you hadn’t even gotten the chance to process his words before his mouth is back on you again, causing you to instinctively try and crawl away from him but Carlos hold on you remains, arms wrapping around your legs as he pulls you back at him. 

You flinch when Carlos’ tongue returns on you and Charles’ hand pumping his cock quickens as strangled moans and grunts escape your lips. The sight of you like this, looking so fucked drunk despite not having been fucked yet, is one he wants to engraved in his mind. You’re gripping air as Carlos' assault on your cunt returns, so sensitive from your two previous orgasm that you’re nothing but dead weight, having lost all your energy as his tongue sucks and licks. 

“I can’t,” you moaned, hips attempting to push you up again but Carlos’ arms pushes you back down, his eyes closed and his facial hair covered in your cum as he eats you out. 

Charles throws his head back, his own orgasm coming just in time with your third as his hands quickens, thumb rubbing his tip till both your moans fill the small drivers’ room. As he sprays his cum all over your chest, Carlos guides you to your third orgasm with barely any effort. His tongue only needs to flick at your clit a few times to have you spasming again. 

Both you and Charles are panting as you ride out your orgasms. 

Carlos seems to pity you, giving you a few moments to catch your breath as he crawls over you, his eyes meeting Charles’ as he lightly taps on your chin, your lips automatically opening as he spits into it, tasting your own arousal mixed with Carlos’ usual minty taste. 

If you weren’t so tired, you would have noticed the intense eye contact the two drivers were sharing, one with a smirk on his face and the other rolling his eyes. Carlos’ action was clear, a reminder; Charles is only touching you now because Carlos is letting him.

“You think you have one more in you, baby?” Carlos asked, pushing some of your hair back as you shake your head. “We should let Charles have a chance at ruining that cunt, don’t you think? Considering this is his only chance.” 

You nod, so easily agreeing to Carlos’ words. Charles thought that Carlos could ask you to jump off a cliff and you’d probably ask the best way to come tumbling down. The thought causes an ache in his chest. 

Still, Carlos is not cruel. Yes, he likes control and yes, he often pushes you to your limit whenever it comes to sex but he does genuinely care for you. It’s obvious in the way he grabbed a water bottle, tapping at your chin again for you to open up before gently tipping the contents of the bottle over, wiping the droplets of water that fell to your chin with his thumb. When you aren’t fucking each other like catholic rabbits, Carlos’ hold on you is always gentle, always careful as though he’s terrified of dropping you. 

Maybe Charles was still holding out hope that what the two of you had was only sex. Maybe he wished Carlos didn’t care for you so he can find some way to steal you back but watching the two of you now, it’s obvious to Charles that he couldn’t be more wrong. This is more than sex, more than any physical relationship. 

It was a slap to the face that he truly had lost you. 

“Why don’t you give Charles a show and ride him?” Carlos suggested after you’ve rested enough to be able to hold your head up again. 

You nod again, already crawling over to Charles. It’s a miracle you even have the energy to do so as you straddle him, your childhood best friend’s hands immediately placing on your hips as he guides you. It’s easy to sink into him, his cock easily sliding into you due to the amount of cum still covering your folds. 

Your forehead falls to his shoulder, feeling so filled up and tired as you let yourself adjust to his size. It feels entirely different from Carlos’ but you realize you don’t mind. Charles is breathing heavily, his lips trailing kisses on your neck. 

There’s a deep contrast between how Charles and Carlos fucks. Carlos likes being in control, always demanding and mocking. You love it though. You love the way he plays your body as though he’d studied it. You love that he knows exactly where to touch and nibble to have you whimpering. You love the cocky way he tells you to keep quiet. You love how entirely natural it is to give yourself up to him. 

Charles on the other hand, is much softer. He lets you move yourself, giving you time to breath and adjust, enough to make you think you have some sort of control. The firm hands on your hips tells you that you have no control here though. It’s all an illusion. 

Eventually, Charles starts guiding you up and down his length, the friction making you moan out as he grazes your clit.

Carlos is sitting before the two of you, watching intently in the way Charles’ cock disappears in your cunt, arms crossed over his chest and his legs spread, showing off his obvious hard on. There isn’t an ounce of jealousy in his eyes though, instead they’re lust filled as they watched the way your body moved, the way your skin glistened with sweat. He doesn’t even bother to tell you off for making so much noise. 

Carlos is not insecure. He never has been. He knows what he can do, he knows how he looks and he definitely knows how to please a woman. There’s never been any reason for him to be insecure of anyone and Charles is no different. At the end of the day, it’s his bed you fall into every night, him who gets to hold you, him who gets to fuck you whenever he wants. He’s already won and he knows there’s no reason for jealousy, not when you’re looking at him like that as another man fucks you as if you wished it’s him instead. 

Charles knows you’re spent and so he does all the work, effortlessly lifting you up and down his cock as he throws his head back. You’re sure there’ll be bruises tomorrow but at the moment, nothing matters more than your fourth orgasm of the night. 

“Fuck,” you moaned when he hits that part of you, your nails digging into his back. There would be scratches tomorrow but Charles couldn’t care less.

“You’re doing so good, mon ange,” Charles mutters against your skin, his movements becoming erratic as he meets you halfway, thrusting up in order to go deeper. “So fucking beautiful like this. Looking like the perfect little slut.”

And god, the degradation went straight to your core, making you moan out as you can feel your orgasm coming to you, your tight walls squeezing him that Charles had to bite on your shoulder in order to muffle his noise. 

In front of you, Carlos is still watching, face emotionless apart from the smirk painting his lips. “She’s amazing, isn’t she, mate? You should see when she’s on her knees. Fucking heaven. Try to make her squirt.”

The reminder that Charles is only borrowing you for the day isn’t appreciated as the monegasque let out a grunt, one of his hands leaving your hip and going between the two of you where your bodies meet. His thumb is immediately on your clit, flicking and rubbing in circles as he chases your orgasm. 

His movement is getting sloppy, more desperate as he thrusts into you, hitting parts of you that had you screaming out as you tug on his hair. 

It feels like an explosion when your orgasm finally came, squirting all over Charles and the floor as your body falls against his in exhaustion, your cheeks red from the mess you made but far too tired to truly be embarrassed. 

“Fuck,” Charles mutters, breathing as heavily as you as he holds you against him, holding your shaking form against him as the two of you catch your breath. 

“Bravo, Charlie!” There’s mocking in Carlos’ voice as he says it along with amusement, his dick nearly painfully hard. You'll barely notice from his face though, looking so incredibly put together and in control that you wouldn’t have thought he just gave you two orgasms in a matter of seconds a few minutes ago.

You feel as though you could faint from how exhausted you are, your body so completely spent that you can barely feel your limbs attached to you. But still, you force yourself out of Charles’ hold and crawled into Carlos’ arms, releasing a sigh of relief as the Spaniard wrapped himself around you, your naked body pressed against him and your head buried at the crook of his neck.

Carlos smiles at you, planting the usual gentle kiss on your temple as he removes the hair clinging to your sticky, sweaty skin. “You did amazing, amor.” 

You only hummed in response, trying to get comfortable as his scent warfed around you, immediately relaxing your muscles. 

And all the while, Charles watched as he realized that he truly had lost you. 

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[conspiracy-crows]

Forgiveness

Danny's core pulsed and purred as he wrapped himself tightly around his boyfriend. They snuggled closer, deeply asleep thanks to the soft low rumbling in his chest. It was late, and really he should be asleep as well, but he couldn't. As amazing as his partner, his friends, his new family, had made the day, the ache still sat in his chest.

No matter how amazing his death-day was now. How safe and warm and comfortable he was in his new home after so long. The night was always hard. It always hurt and ached. His scars itched and his mind would refuse to shut down until the early dawn.

His parents. The Doctors' Fenton. Always came to the forefront of his mind on nights like this. The GIW and Anti-Ecto acts were long gone. The Justice League had taken care of that very quickly once he had come to their attention. But the Doctors Fenton did not give up so easily. Even if they were locked up now, their words still haunted him.

"Give me back my SON!" Maddie had screamed, even as Superman knocked the Ecto-Rifle from her hands. "You MONSTER! You may have tricked them, but you'll never trick us! We know better!"

"Mom-" His voice broke, his core ached. J'onn stood next to him, a hand on his shoulder. "Why won't you listen to me!"

He had only just managed to prevent a wail from escaping him as he collapsed into the martian's arms. Clung to the man for dear life the way only a lost, lonely child could. He couldn't watch as his parents were arrested and taken away.

For all he had been almost 20 then, a part of him would always be the scared 14 year old who died in his parent's lab. Would always be the shaking 18 year old who had to dodge blasts and nets from his own parents as he ran away. After he had come out to them as a ghost

He'd never even got to come out to them about the normal things.

The arms around him moved, shifted slightly, pulling him from the memories. There was a rustle as the blanket was pulled up. Danny realized his core had stopped purring, and that always woke Jason up.

"Still awake?" the rough voice of his boyfriend asked softly. "In your head again?"

"Yeah..." Danny replied, snuggling closer into the other's chest. "I miss who they used to be...Or who I thought they were anyway."

"I know... I'm so sorry Danny." Jason's hand gently rubbed his back, the other resting in his hair. "I'm sorry they couldn't see you."

"I just wish... I wish I could still be angry sometimes." He murmured softly. Closing his eyes and letting the tears fall. "It hurt less. To be angry."

"I know..." The other man said, holding Danny closer. Strong hands comforted him as Jason hummed softly in his chest. Still not quite able to get the hang of purring like Danny could.

But there was no going back to the anger. To the hate that had kept him going in that first year and a half, before he had ended up in Gotham. Before he had finally begun to heal his heart, his core, from the betrayal his parents had done.

He couldn't be angry anymore. He had tried so hard for a while. It had been so much easier than letting the grief sweep him away, But the simple fact was, Danny had forgiven them years ago. Not that they would ever find out. Not that they ever could.

Now, the pain washed over him. It got better, little by little as time went on. But grief never truly goes away.

Especially not when you mourn the living.

#dpxdc #danny phantom #jason todd #dead on main

[soullessdianthus]

Hi so idk if ur taking requests for König or if u do stories like this but I was wondering if u could do König comforting reader after a miscarriage. Like this is her 2nd one and she's in the bathroom sobbing

A/N: Never thought I would be able of writing such stuff. Thanks Anon for challenging me with such heavy topics. Hope you're doing well. ♡

Warnings: angst, comfort, talks of miscarriage

When he walked down the hallway, next to the bathroom doors, König would never in his lifetime imagine finding you in a state like this.

Head buried in trembling hands as you were sitting on the bathtub's edge. A few trickles of blood running down your thighs from underneath the sweat shorts. His heart ached although not knowing why yet. Seeing you, his beloved wife in a state of despair was worse than a grown up man could ever imagine.

Deep down he knew it wasn't about you bleeding through your pants on your period. No, it couldn't be it.

━ Meine Liebe [ger.: My love]?

━ König ━ you shot your head up, sniffling and looking at the towering figure of your spouse in the door's frame. A muffled sob got stuck in your throat. He wasn't wearing his hood or military gear, there was no need for that in your house. ━ You were supposed to be back next week.

Your sweet and loving voice sounded broken. Devastated. You tried to wipe the tears off your face, but it was already reddened and eyelids swollen from crying. You couldn't hide it from him anymore.

König slowly walked up to you and kneeled on one of his legs. When his face was approximately on the same level as yours, he cupped your cheek, a concern painted in his eyes.

━ What happened? Why are you crying? ━ Your husband's other hand held you by your arm, caressing the skin so softly, with such tenderness it brought you comfort.

━ I... I lost the baby. It was still very early, but...

━ Hey, hey, look at me, schatzi ━ he interrupted you, sadness building up again in your beautiful eyes. The eyes that made him fall in love with you at first sight ━ sometimes it happens.

König's words were well-balanced and spoken peacefully. He wanted to ease down your pain, at least the one that was mental. Now, he was by your side, prepared to support you through this difficult time.

And you were worried of disappointing him.

━ But it wasn't the first time! I had lost one already and you always wanted a family of your own and I'm scared that I cannot give you this...

━ Sometimes it happens ━ he repeated, his brows slightly narrowing in concern. König reached to hold both of your hands in his grasp over your lap ━ and it's never your fault. Never. You know, Meine Liebe, I'm not the youngest, this may also be a reason why this happens. Have you thought about this?

━ But I really want to start family with you. I love you.

━ Ich liebe dich auch, engel [ger.: I love you too, angel]. We can always try again. When you're ready. ━ König leaned forward to get closer to you pretty face. He always felt bad when you were crying, your soul was so pure, you didn't deserve this. Any of this.

━ But what if it happens again?

━ Then you is all I need in this lifetime.

Your husband pressed his forehead to yours and you slowly began to accept the grief of your unborn child. You took a few deep breaths, trying to calm down. And with him by your side, every sorrow was eased by his love.

━ Are you mad at me? ━ You asked after a while of silence, when he detached his forehead from yours.

━ Why should I be angry with you? How could I be mad at my beloved wife, Mein Sonnenschein [ger.: my sunshine], hm?

His warm smile and presence was all your aching heart needed. König loved you more than anything on this planet, in this life. You were the reason he had something to come back to after each day in work. A home and a soulmate.

━ Ich liebe dich.

#request #reader insert #konig #konig cod #konig mw2 #konig x reader #könig #könig mw2 #könig cod #könig x reader #angst #comfort

[kokomyass]

Neuvillette ☆ To be a Father

Neuvillette x Fem!Reader Genre: ☁️ Word Count: 1943 Trigger Warnings ⚠️ : none!!

a/n: hey guys yet again, half asleep when posting this....too tired to edit...really hope you enjoy this lowkey gave me baby fever 🔮🌙🔮

Neuvillette always thought of himself as an outcast to human society.

He would observe human customs and analyse them for decades trying to understand humans and their thoughts.

However, there was one concept he had never seemed to grasp despite his hundred years on Teyvat....and that was the concept of love.

Whether it was romantic love, platonic love or familial love, he always pondered what it would be like to fall in love?

Would it be a noticiable thing? Or would it be something that is destined from birth.

No matter how much he would tell himself he didn't need any sort of love, he always felt an ache in his heart seeing couples and their children interact.

However, that aching feeling in his heart soon turned to a warm one when he met you.

The feelings he felt around you exceeded any sort of feelings he thought he would feel after witnessing and analysing others relationships.

You were perfect in his eyes. You were beautiful and you were kind. You always knew how to reassure him when he became insecure about how he struggled to feel like he was included in society.

You knew Neuvillette was a genuinely caring individual no matter how humble he may try to be. He was always very busy but he always made sure to spend time with you even if it is while he is working.

That's why you knew he would be an amazing father.

"Hey, Neuvi, sweetheart!! I have some news...." you walked into his office as he looked up from the papers he was writing in with a warm smile reserved for you.

"What news do you have for me, my dear?" you were now stood in front of his desk. You placed your positive pregnancy test on his desk as he looked at it taking a moment to register what it was.

"I'm pregnant!"

The look of complete and utter shock on Neuvillette's face was something that would never make an appearance again...but you also couldn't ignore his trembling when he hugged you.

Neuvillette was happy to hear you were pregnant of course, it was something he yearned for many, many years, but he didn't know if he had what it took to bring up a child of his own....he wasn't even human.

After you gave birth you noticed that it began to rain quite a bit which made you chuckle slightly knowing that your husband was just a bit emotional about the birth of his own child.

Which brought you to where you both were now. It had been a week since your beautiful daughter was born and you had noticed Neuvillette had become very faraway. You often found yourself asking him things multiple times before he could actually answer, and he seemed to be acting rather clumsy (and for the record neuvillette is NEVER clumsy...) and it wasn't that he wasn't interacting with his daughter but when he would he would looked AWFULLY stiff...

"Ugh....I don't know what to do you guys!!" you rocked your sleeping daughter back and forth sighing.

You had invited your friends Chlorinde, Navia and Furina to your home to help you with Neuvillette's odd behaviour.

"Well, Y/N, have you spoken to him?" Navia suggested.

"Yes, Navia, of course I have! I asked him what the issue is and I even asked if it was about him thinking he wasn't a good father! But the same answer is always given....'I'm fine dear, don't worry about me just a bit tired is all'  and then he calls it a day!!" You were getting stressed as you began to rock your baby a bit faster.

"Y/N, maybe we should...uh...calme-toi...you might wake up your daughter..." Furina patted your arm, sweatdropping slightly. You sighed as you slowed your movements.

"Your right...I just wish he would talk more you know, he doesn't have to take everything on alone now..." you looked down at your baby sleeping calmly.

"Well, Y/N, knowing how much he loves you I'm sure he will open up sooner or later...and I believe he will have to for the sake of your future with you daughter." Chloride stated, making you feel slightly better.

"Yes! Maybe you can ask Sigewinne, maybe Neuvillette may seek advice from her especially if he doesn't want you to know!" Navia butted in as she poored some tea for everyone.

"You guys are right!! Thank you guys you always know how to help!" a wave of tiredness washed over you as your felt your daughter begin to stir awake.

"As much as I would love to carry on talking my baby needs to eat and I think the postpartum symptoms are hitting me...."

You said goodbye to everyone and sat in bed feeding your daughter before placing her in her bed to sleep. Your eyes felt heavy and lidded and as much as you wanted to stay awake for Neuvillette, your body betrayed you.

You felt a soft kiss on your head as you stirred awake looking up to see your husband's soft and beautiful eyes glowing at you.

"My deepest apologies to you my dear, work was extremely busy..." you chuckled softly as you hugged him tightly, interrupting his sentence.

"Don't worry my love, as long as your okay that's all that matters. We missed you." he smiles as he turns to the small bed your cute daughter is sleeping in.

"I missed you both an immense amount" He strokes her cheek softly but the flash of sadness that was on his face for a millisecond didn't go unnoticed by you.

"Neuvi, what is wrong, please tell me." you grabbed his hand and forced him to look at you. He looked a bit shocked for a moment before hiding it under a very faint smile.

"Y/N, don't worry, you need to stay healthy and happy, especially for our daughter." he strokes your hair as you frown at his answer.

He went to sleep next to you as it was nothing but you were going to find out what was going on.

Time Skip

You had secretly made it to the Fortress of Meropide to visit some good friends.

"Are you ready for this D/N?" you look down at your daughter in her little pram as she giggles excitedly clapping her hands together.

"That's my girl! Let's go!" you kissed your daughters nose before pushing her towards the infirmary.

You made it to the infirmary and you were lucky enough to see both Sigewinne and Wriothesley there having a conversation. Sigewinne was the first to notice you.

"Y/N!!!! It's so nice to see you! And you too little Y/N!!" Sigewinne ran up to you as you gave her a hug and she pat your daughters head making her giggle.

"It's nice to see you too Sigewinne! And hello Wriothesley."

"Hey there, Y/N..." Wriothesley walked up to you smiling. "Does ya kid still hate me?"

You laughed, "Let's see" you pointed to your daughter as Wriothesley put his finger out to her and she grabbed it giggling.

"Would you look at that!! Finally warming up to your uncle!!"

That's what Wriothesley thought before your daughter began biting his finger very hard.

"OWW! Why you-" he squinted at your child as you laughed.

Time went on and you explained the situation to them.

"I must say Neuvillette randomly came down here to talk to me...he never does that unless he wants to get his mind off something." Wriothesley folded his arms pondering.

"Yep! And Monsieur Neuvillette asked me if it is possible to bring up a child even if you aren't human...now it makes sense why he asked that. Of course I said yes!!" Sigewinne and Wriothesley had confirmed your suspiciouns.

"Oh, Neuvi, he may have the most authority in the whole of Fontaine, but he doesn't know how to listen to me..." you sighed shaking your head.

"Who would've thought a little girl would make him act like this? This is the first time I have veer seen him like this..." Wriothesley chuckles.

"Me too....I've been hear for as long as I can remember and he's never been this distressed...." Sigewinne but in placing a finger on her chin.

"Well, I suppose I should go and talk to him then...thank you so much for your help guys idk what I would do without you." you bid farewell to you Fortress companions before making your way to the Palais Mermonia.

Time Skip

You made it to the Palais Mermonia and rushed through all the doors until you made it to Neuvillette's office pushing the double doors open walking in with your pram.

"Neuvillette, we need to talk."

Neuvillette looked up from his work, shocked to see you there. He stood up and walked towards you.

"Y/N, what's going on? What wrong why do we need to-"

"Do you think you aren't going to be a good enough father to our daughter?" you folded your arms staring at him in the eyes.

Neuvillette stared at you wide-eyed, he stayed silent and looked at the floor avoiding your eyes.

You cupped his face in your hands and turned his head to lock eyes with you. You placed you lips on his softly as he melted into the sweet and soft kiss that had heavy emotion subdued in it.

"Neuvi...why would you ever think that? When I told you I was pregnant, I had no doubts or fears....not one...because I knew that no matter what you would craft our daughter into an amazing one with your amazing qualities. I know it sound cheezy....but Neuvi, I couldn't choose any other man to be the father of my daughter, so please, don't feel like you aren't enough your daughter loves you, and I love you and as long as you try that's all we care about."

You spilled your heart out as you stared at each other.

"I-" Neuvillette began speaking but suddenly it began to slowly rain outside.

You chucked, pressing a kiss on his nose.

"No need to feel sad my love." Neuvillette chuckled at your joke.

He looked at your daughter (who was really excited to see her dad) and picked her up rocking her back and forth.

"Y/N, I'm sorry. Sorry I didn't tell you. I felt like being a dragon, i have no human exlerience and i would lead out child down the wrong path. I should've told you so we could work it out but I just felt so unsure I found myself going to Wriothesley and Sigewinne for comfort. But none of that comfort I'd as good as the comfort of my family I must admit."

You chuckled hugging him tightly being careful now to wake the now asleep baby.

"Does this mean you will do nappy changes?"

"Of course, dear, I must relieve you of that stress!"

"This is why I love you~" You placed a kiss on his lips as he smiled warmly, a smile reserved for you AND his daughter.

"I love you both, my happiness."

A lil bonus:

It was nighttime and the baby had woken up crying and Neuvillette had gone to take care of it.

However, you being a curious little cat, you spied on them.

Neuvillette held her on his chest patting her back, humming a sweet melody to her.

"...Papa..." you daughter said her first word.

You could tell Neuvillette didn't seem to understand the significance of this based on how he carried on with whatever he was doing.

Meanwhile  you were crying...

Luckily, you were recording....it would be a reminder to explain to him later.

a/n: SOMEONE TELL ME THAT THIS DOESNT MAKE SENSE BECAUSE I WAS A MESS WRITING THIS SHIT um love you guys hopw you enjoy anon that requested too 💜💜🍇🍇

#anime #anime fluff #anime x reader #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #neuvillette fluff #fyp #neuvillette #neuvillette x you #neuvilette genshin #genshin fluff #genshin impact x you #neuvillette x reader #neuvillette genshin #neuvillette fanfic #genshin fontaine #fontaine

[itsmealaiah]

Hiii I'm a huge fan of ur works ❤️❤️❤️

I was wondering could u make a 2023 to 2024 tom and bill x reader the used to all be best friends but when tom got married hidei klum tells tom to cut reader off because she's jealous of her now so he did making reader go mia and hide from social media now in 2024 they rekindle and if u can could it be smut ♥️♥️♥️♥️

Once again I'm a huge fan

aww ❤️

Missing some action

tags/ warnings: author being a forgetful bitch and not putting bill in here, cheating/ adultery, multiple rounds of smut, getting caught in the act

Not proofread at all!

MDNI ⚠️ don't like don't read or leave hate

Disclaimer: nothing against heidi yall

pairing: tom x fem

may and will not be used in any other capacity besides this blog, do not translate, copy and paste, or claim as your own. we've had many issues with this in the past three months.

It had been four long years since the last time I had seen Tom Kaulitz. He used to be my best friend, the one person who understood me like no other. But then he married Heidi Klum, and everything changed. She grew jealous of our friendship, of the time we spent together, of the closeness we shared. So, she demanded that Tom choose between her and me. Of course, he chose her. I wasn't surprised, but it still hurt. A lot.

She made it clear that she didn't want me in their lives anymore, and Tom seemed to agree. I was heartbroken, but I had no choice but to leave them alone. I went off grid, deleted all my social media accounts, and tried to move on with my life. I focused on my career, my friends, and family. Time passed, and the pain eased a little, but it never truly went away.

Four years later, I received an invitation to Tom and Heidi's anniversary party. I didn't want to go, but my mom insisted. "You need to face your past and move on, sweetheart," she said, handing me the crumpled piece of paper with the address on it. As I got dressed for the event, I couldn't help but feel a mixture of anticipation and dread. What if Tom didn't even want to see me after all this time?

When I arrived at the party, I immediately felt out of place. The atmosphere was so different from the ones we used to share. The guests were all dressed to the nines, sipping expensive champagne, and laughing too loudly. I searched the crowd for Tom, hoping to avoid him for as long as possible. But then, I heard a familiar voice calling my name.

It was him. Tom looked different somehow, more grown up and self-assured. He was still as handsome as ever, with those piercing brown eyes that used to make my heart race. He was standing there with Heidi at his side, her arm looped through his, a smug smile playing on her lips. They both looked so happy together.

I hesitated for a moment, my heart thudding in my chest. Should I go over and say hello? Or should I just turn around and walk away? Before I could make a decision, Tom broke away from Heidi and walked towards me. His steps were slow and deliberate, and I couldn't help but feel a pang of nostalgia as I remembered the countless times we used to run into each other's arms and hug.

When he finally reached me, he took my hands in his and smiled warmly. "It's good to see you, y/n. I've missed you." His voice was soft and sincere, and it sent a shiver down my spine. "I'm sorry for the way things ended between us. I never meant for it to happen that way." He looked at me with those eyes, and it was like he was seeing right through me.

"It's okay, Tom. I understand." I forced a smile, trying to hide the ache in my heart. "It's good to see you too." I glanced around, feeling the need to break the awkward silence. "Heidi is looking lovely tonight."

He chuckled softly. "She is, isn't she? Well, come on. Let me introduce you to some people." He took my hand and led me through the crowd. As we walked, I couldn't help but notice how his touch sent tingles up my spine, how his presence still made my heart skip a beat.

"So, what have you been up to?" he asked, his voice low and intimate. "How's work? How's your family?" I told him about my latest project, my parents, my sister. He listened attentively, nodding along, occasionally asking questions. It felt so natural, like we were picking up right where we left off.

"I've been meaning to ask you," I said, hesitating for a moment. "How are things with you and Heidi?"

He smiled, but there was a sadness in his eyes. "We're doing well, I suppose. But things aren't always as perfect as they seem." He looked away, lost in thought. "I can't help but wonder sometimes what might have been, you know?"

I nodded, my heart aching for him. I knew exactly what he meant. But then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw Heidi glaring at us from across the room. Her expression was a mixture of anger and jealousy, and it made me feel guilty all over again.

"Well," I said, trying to change the subject. "I should probably find my mom and thank her for bringing me here. It was nice seeing you, Tom." I reached up and kissed his cheek, feeling his skin warm beneath my lips.

He took my hand in his and gave it a squeeze. "Thank you for coming, y/n. I'm glad we could talk. Maybe we could do this again, when Heidi's not around." His voice was barely a whisper, but I could tell he meant it.

As I made my way through the crowd, I couldn't help but think about our conversation. Despite being married to Heidi, there was still a spark between us. A part of me wondered if we could ever find our way back to each other. But then again, Heidi was his wife, and they seemed happy enough together.

A few weeks passed, and I received an unexpected invitation from Tom. He wanted me to come over while Heidi was away on business. I hesitated for a moment, wondering if it was a good idea. After all, we had both moved on with our lives. But something about his words, the way he'd looked at me that night at the party, made me feel like I couldn't say no.

When the day finally arrived, I found myself nervously pacing in front of my mirror, trying to decide what to wear. I wanted to look nice, but not too nice. After all, I didn't want Tom to get the wrong idea. I eventually settled on a casual blouse and a pair of comfortable jeans. I didn't want to seem desperate or overeager, but I also didn't want to appear indifferent. It was a delicate balancing act.

As I drove to his house, my stomach was in knots. What would we talk about? Would we end up arguing about Heidi? Or would we be able to find some common ground, some semblance of the connection we'd once shared? I didn't know the answers to these questions, but I felt compelled to find out.

When I arrived at Tom's house, I found him sitting on the patio, a glass of wine in hand. He looked up as I approached, and the smile that spread across his face warmed me to my core. He stood, taking my hand in his, and pulled me into a gentle embrace. The touch of his skin against mine sent shivers down my spine, and for a moment, it felt like no time had passed at all.

"You look beautiful," he whispered into my ear. "Just like you did that night at the party." He let go of me, stepping back to take in my appearance.

"Well, thank you," I replied, feeling my cheeks flush. "You don't look so bad yourself." I gestured toward the chair opposite him. "Can I sit?"

He nodded, motioning for me to sit down. "Please, make yourself comfortable." As he sat back down across from me, I couldn't help but notice the slight awkwardness between us. We both seemed to be searching for something to say, something to break the silence.

"So," I began, trying to find my footing. "How have you been? How's the band?"

He smiled, shrugging nonchalantly. "Oh, you know, same old, same old. Heidi's been busy with her show, so I've been taking care of things at home. It's actually been kind of nice, having some time to myself. We've been doing alright, you know?" His eyes met mine, and there was a question in them. A question that I couldn't quite answer.

The silence that fell between us was thick, almost palpable. I could feel my cheeks flush as I wondered what he was thinking. Had I read too much into his words at the party? Was he truly happy with Heidi, or was there still a part of him that longed for something more? I wanted to believe the latter, but I couldn't shake the feeling that I was just fooling myself.

As if sensing my discomfort, Tom reached out, taking my hand in his. His skin was warm against mine, sending shivers up my spine. "I'm glad you came over tonight," he said softly. "It's been… difficult, you know? Being so close to you, but not being able to…" His voice trailed off, his gaze searching mine for some sign of understanding.

I wanted to reassure him, to tell him that I felt the same way. That the connection we'd shared wasn't something that could be so easily forgotten. But instead, I found myself leaning in closer, pressing my lips against his. The kiss was slow, gentle at first, but as it deepened, so did the passion between us. His hand moved up my thigh, and I gasped against his mouth.

The sound seemed to fuel his desire, and he pulled me closer, his other hand tangled in my hair. I could feel the heat of his body pressed against mine, and it sent a shiver through me. The air around us seemed to crackle with anticipation, and I knew we were both thinking the same thing. We needed this. We needed each other.

With a growl, he lifted me up onto his arms. I gasped as I felt his lips brush against my neck, and then lower, sucking gently on the skin there. His touch sent shivers down my spine, and my heart raced in my chest. As if it were a reflex, my hands found their way under his shirt, tracing the hard planes of his stomach before moving higher, to cup his firm chest. He moaned into the kiss, pressing me harder against him.

He carried me toward the bedroom, kicking the bedroom door open with his foot. I giggled, feeling giddy with desire as he threw me onto the bed. My heart hammered in my chest as he stripped off his shirt, revealing his toned, muscular chest. He crawled on top of me, his weight pressing me into the mattress. His lips found mine again, and he kissed me hungrily, his tongue thrusting deep into my mouth.

His hands moved lower, tugging at my clothes, desperate to feel my skin against his. In a frenzy of need, he ripped my blouse open, sending buttons flying across the room. I arched my back, offering him easier access, as he pulled my bra free, releasing my breasts from their confines. He groaned, his hot breath fanning across my nipples, and then lowered his head, taking one of them into his mouth. I cried out, my hips bucking off the bed as he sucked and teased.

My own hands wandered over his body, exploring the defined muscles of his back and shoulders. I reached down between us, tugging at his belt, unfastening his pants. His erection sprang free, and I reached out, wrapping my hand around it, feeling the heat and the strength in my palm. He groaned again, arching his back into my touch.

"God, you're so fucking beautiful," he breathed against my skin. "I've missed this." He rolled onto his side, pressing his body against mine. His lips found my earlobe, and he nipped at it gently before moving lower, kissing his way down my neck and across my collarbone. I gasped, feeling his hot breath on my skin, as he pushed two fingers into me, slowly and deliberately. I cried out, my hips arching off the bed in response to the intrusion.

He smiled against my skin, his fingers moving deeper, curling inside me. His other hand found its way up, cupping my breast, his thumb rubbing roughly over my nipple. I mewled, feeling the delicious ache building inside me. I wanted more, and I knew he could give it to me. I reached down between us, wrapping my hand around his erection, stroking him in time with his movements inside me. His breath hitched, his fingers thrusting deeper, faster.

The bed creaked beneath us as he rolled us over, me now on top. His eyes met mine, and for a moment, there was a flicker of uncertainty there. But then it was gone, replaced by a fierce determination that only served to fuel my own desire. His hands moved to my hips, and he urged me down onto him, his erection pressing against my entrance.

I groaned, the sensation sending a wave of pleasure through me. I lowered myself further, feeling the head of his cock nudge against my opening. With a growl, he thrust upward, piercing me with his length. I cried out, my hips rocking in a frenzy off the bed as he filled me completely. His hands moved to my shoulders, holding me in place as he began to move, his body sliding against mine in a rhythm that was both familiar and exhilarating.

He kissed me roughly, his tongue thrusting deep into my mouth, as if he couldn't get close enough. His hips rose and fell, each thrust driving him deeper inside me. I arched my back, meeting his movements with equal fervor, my nails digging into his shoulders. The sound of our breaths and skin slapping together filled the room, drowning out everything else.

His pace quickened, and I felt myself on the edge of orgasm. I tightened my grip on him, urging him on, begging for more. With a growl, he pulled out of me and rolled me onto my stomach. I felt his hot breath on my neck as he spanked my ass, once, twice. The stinging sensation only served to heighten my arousal, and I moaned loudly.

His fingers pressed against me, slipping easily inside. He thrust them deep, curling them in a way that sent waves of pleasure through me. "That's it," he groaned, his voice rough with desire. "Give it all to me." His other hand moved to my breast, tweaking my nipple roughly as he continued to pump his fingers inside me.

I arched my back, moaning in ecstasy as I felt him fill me, felt the strength and heat of his body against mine. I reached down between us, taking his erection in my hand, stroking it in time with his movements inside me. He growled, thrusting harder, deeper, as if he couldn't get close enough.

His fingers moved to my clit, circling it expertly, and I cried out, my hips bucking wildly against his touch. The sensation was overwhelming, exquisite, and I felt myself on the brink of orgasm. He smiled against my neck, his lips moving to my ear. "That's it, baby. Let it go."

With a final thrust, he buried himself inside me, his body trembling as he came, his hot seed spilling into me. I felt my own orgasm crash over me, waves of pleasure washing through my body as I cried out his name. Our sweat-slicked bodies moved together in perfect rhythm, each breath, each moan, echoing in the room.

Finally, he collapsed on top of me, his weight pressing me into the mattress. I could feel his heart racing against my back, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. I wrapped my legs around him, holding him close, savoring the feel of his skin against mine.

"God, y/n," he murmured into my hair. "I didn't think you'd be so… so responsive." His hips rocked slowly against mine, and I felt him grow harder inside me. It was as if he hadn't just filled me to the brim with his seed, as if he were still hungry for more.

His hands moved up my sides, cupping my breasts. He rolled my nipples between his thumbs and forefingers, sending a shiver through my entire body. I arched my back, pressing myself deeper into his touch. "Please," I whispered, my voice barely audible. "Don't stop."

He smiled against my skin and began to move faster, harder. His breath came in ragged gasps, and I could feel his muscles tense beneath my fingers. I wrapped my legs around his waist, feeling the strength and power of his body as he drove into me. He was relentless, driving me higher and higher with each thrust.

My head tilted back, and I let out a moan of pure pleasure as he found my sweet spot. His name fell from my lips in a plea, a demand. He answered with a growl, his hips slamming against mine in a frenzy. I felt my own orgasm building, growing more intense with each passing second.

With one final thrust, he buried himself deep inside me, his body shuddering as he came. My orgasm crashed over me in a wave of bliss, and I cried out his name, my body arching off the bed as my pleasure consumed me.

He collapsed on top of me, his weight pressing me into the mattress, his breath coming in ragged gasps. For a moment, we lay entwined, his heart racing against my back, our sweat-slicked skin sticking together. It was as if time had stopped, as if the world outside this room didn't exist.

He rolled to his side, propping himself up on one elbow to look down at me. His eyes roamed over my flushed face and heated skin, and I felt a shiver run down my spine. "Well," he said with a grin, "I guess I'm not the only one who needed this."

I reached up, tracing a finger along his jawline. "No, I don't think you are," I replied, my voice still breathless from our passion. "But I don't regret it. Not for a second."

He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to my lips. "Good," he whispered. "Because I think… I think we might need to do this again." His hand moved down between my legs, and I gasped as his fingers found their way back to my swollen, sensitive flesh.

His fingers moved over me in a familiar rhythm, and I arched my back, pressing myself against his touch. The pleasure coursing through my body was almost overwhelming, and I could feel my orgasm building once more. "Oh, God, yes," I moaned, my hips moving in time with his hand.

Tom watched me intently, his eyes dark with desire. "You're so beautiful," he murmured, his voice rough with emotion. He leaned in, capturing my lips with his, his tongue tracing their shape. I could feel the strength of him pressed against me, his heart racing wildly beneath my fingertips. Heat spread through my body like a wildfire, and with each thrust, he drove deeper inside me, claiming me in a way that felt both possessive and tender.

"what the actual fuck" I looked up, my eyes barely opening.

Heidi

#tokio hotel #tokio hotel x reader #tokio hotel x you #tom kaulitz #tom kaulitz imagines #tom kaulitz x reader #tom kaulitz fluff #tom kaulitz angst #tom kaulitz smut #tom kaulitz x y/n #tom kaulitz x you

[ell0ra-br3kk3r-writes]

Jealous

pairing: nikolai lantsov x fem!reader

genre: fluff

el's thoughts: requested by @jahayla-parker. i hope you like itttt!! it may be a lil rough 'cause i'm climbing over my writers block, but here you go!!

main masterlist

Nikolai wasn’t a naturally jealous person. Okay, maybe he was but when it came to Y/N it was different. The feeling in his chest tightened and threatened to choke him. It was a feeling that he had grown accustomed to, but he had learned that if he zoned out for long enough the familiar ache faded into a subtle feeling settled in his chest. And the young king played this to his advantage as much as possible.

The music of the party was nothing but a light buzzing in Nikolai’s ears as he looked around the ballroom.  He was religiously avoiding the couple spinning around on the dance floor. ‘Why wouldn’t she have told me she was coming with a date?’ The ache in his chest returned almost as an instant response to his thoughts. To see her in the arms of another man sent a cold chill down his spine and his mind racing. ‘Hadn’t I been obvious with my intentions? How could she not know that I’ve been interested in her for years now?’

“Because you’ve never told her that you’ve fancied her for years now.”

Nikolai nearly jumped at Zoya’s voice beside him. “Did I say that out loud?”

“Yes,” she scoffed. “And you should be glad it was only me who heard and not anyone else.”

“Suppose I should be…” He trailed off with gritted teeth as the laughing couple caught his eye again. 

“I should tell you that you wouldn’t be in this position if you would’ve talked to her.”

“Thank you for that observation, Zoya. Don’t you have someone else to go bother?”

Nikolai could feel her roll her eyes beside him but ignored her. Y/N placed her hand on her date's arm and leaned closer to him while he laughed. Anger and frustration with himself boiled in the pit of his stomach at the sight. 

Zoya sighed to herself, feeling the smallest bit of pity for the young king. “You should walk around and socialize with your guests.”

“You’re right,” he sighed. 

~

Y/N walked down the hall that led to Nikolai’s personal quarters, clad only in her night gown and robe. She slipped through the door without knocking or making her presence known. Nikolai was sat on one of the chairs by the fire place, his dress clothes long forgotten now replaced by his own silk night clothes. 

“Didn’t see much of you tonight.”

Her voice caught him off guard but he composed himself quickly. “I’ll be honest, I’m surprised you noticed.”

She placed a dramatic hand over her heart as she fell into the seat beside him. “You wound me.”

Her actions pulled a small smile out of him but only for a minute before his face fell slack again. “How was your date?” His voice carried a bitterness that would’ve caught Y/N off guard had she not expected it.

“Well, I wouldn’t consider it a date, but it was good.”

“You seemed to be enjoying yourself plenty.”

“Yes, well I happen to miss my family and it was nice to be able to catch up with my older cousin.”

Nikolai coughed and tried to hide the heat crawling up his neck. “Cousin?”

“Yes, Nikolai, I invited my cousin tonight.”

“Oh…” Guilt slowly crept up on the king as he brought his gaze back to the fire. 

“Why?” she asked with a smirk. “Were you jealous?”

He scoffed playfully, “Me? Jealous? Of you dancing with another man. Never.”

Y/N hummed with a chuckle. “Of course not.”

They sat in silence for a few moments before Nikolai spoke up again. “You are important to me. You know that right?”

She smiled softly at him, “Of course, Nik. You’re important to me too.”

He sighed and ran a hand down his face. “No, I mean…” He inhaled sharply and leaned forward, enough to reach across and hold her hands in his. 

“I love you. Have for years now, and you must’ve been blind not to see it, but I’m sorry. For not telling you earlier. I’m sorry I get like this sometimes… Zoya said it’s really my fault I get jealous, and she’s right. I should’ve told you a long time ago.”

He looked up at her almost timidly and with hesitance but was only met with a proud smirk upon her lips. 

“I knew.”

His eyes widened and he dropped her hands. “You knew this whole time?”

“Like you said, I’d have to have been blind not to see it.”

“Then… then why have you-”

Y/N laughed, “I’ll be honest, I like messing with you a bit. But I was also waiting for you to tell me yourself. You needed to pluck up the courage to tell me and I just kept giving you little nudges.”

Nikolai watched her with nothing but admiration in his eyes, “You’re sneaky.”

“But you love me.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

#nikolai lantsov #nikolai lantsov x reader #nikolai lantsov x y/n #nikolai lantsov x you #shadow and bone #shadow and bone x reader #shadow and bone imagines #ellora.writes

[acewritesfics]

Nothing Else Matters | Tommy Shelby

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader

Request: No.  

Warnings: Mentions of war. Not my favorite imagine that I've ever written. 

Word count: 800

TOMMY SHELBY MASTERLIST

⚠️ THIS IS A REPOST FROM MY MAIN BLOG @/DLMLUFICS. YOU CAN FIND THE ORIGINAL POST STILL FLOATING AROUND ON TUMBLR SOMEWHERE. UNFORTUNATELY, I HAVE TO DO IT THIS WAY. MORE INFO IN MY PINNED POST.

"Nothing else matters as long as we are together," Tommy speaks softly to Y/N as they slow dance to the classical tune that is playing through the gramophone in the corner of their living room. "You make me forget about everything and everyone but you." 

She shuts her eyes and rests her head on his shoulder. His arm around her waist pulls her closer to him as he sways to the rhythm of the music. His words make her heart skip a beat. Tommy hardly ever talked about his feelings. When he did, he was alone with her. 

Y/N was his longest and dearest friend before she became his wife. Tommy and Y/N have known each other since they were babies since their mothers were more like sisters than best friends. 

The two women became pregnant around the same time, with Tommy being born two months before Y/N. 

Even though Y/N's affections for the Birmingham mobster deepened throughout the years before Tommy was sent to war, their friendship never blossomed romantically until Tommy returned home when the war was over. She didn't confess her love to Tommy until he was ready to board the train that was taking him away from her and his family. She pleaded with him to return home because she couldn't bear to live without him. 

Throughout the war, the two exchanged letters between his visits home. Once his letters stopped closer to the end, she feared the worst. During his visits home she could see how much the war was changing him and the others. He wasn't the Tommy she'd grown up with but her love for him never wavered. 

She hugged Arthur and John after they hugged their aunt and sister, kissing their cheeks, delighted to have them home alive. Her heart ached for John, whose wife had died not long before his return. She had helped Polly and Ada take care of the kids and Finn, the youngest of the Shelby siblings. 

It wasn't until the most of the families had left the station that she spotted the Shelby brother, whom she had feared was lost. She was filled with emotion when she saw him standing there, bruised and broken but still alive. Her eyes welled up with tears as she ran towards the man she loves, his arms stretched out to greet her as she landed in his arms. Tommy kissed her before she could say anything, afraid that this was all a dream. 

The couple's relationship was not easy. Tommy was overcoming the trauma he had experienced while in France and readjusting back into society. Tommy frequently awoke believing he was still in the French trenches and that he was still being tortured all over again. He tried numerous times to convince Y/N to leave him, but the more he tried, the more she proved she would not leave him. The nights he spent with her, the nightmares, the memories, and the mental scars faded to the back of his mind. 

He realises in those moments just how much he loves her, how much he appreciates her, and how much he had been taking her for granted. It's always been her for Thomas Shelby. And for her, it's always been him. It took a war and years apart for him to realise it. 

"Tommy?" she asks, lifting her head from his shoulder to look into his magnificent icy blue eyes. 

He responds, looking intently into her eyes, "Yes, love?" 

"I need you to be safe tomorrow," she says, recalling his meeting at the horse races. She is aware that things with the Shelby Brothers hardly ever go as anticipated. "At the first sign of trouble, you get out of there." 

Her greatest fear throughout the war was Tommy not returning home. She still feels the same fear even though there is no longer a war. 

"I may come home a little banged up from time to time, but I always return home to you," He makes an attempt to soothe her worries. 

She moves away from him and says, "It's not only me you have to return home to, Thomas; I'm not raising our child without you." His gaze travels to her belly, to the small bump where his baby is growing. "And you still have to marry me. We can't be married if you're not here." 

"Everything will be alright," Tommy promises her as he brings her back into his arms. He places his hand on her tiny bump, "Now, instead of worrying about me, you worry about Tommy Jr. in there." 

He sways to the music once more as she puts her head back on his shoulder. "I'll always worry about you, Tommy, the both of you because I have no doubt this child will be his father's son." 

#acewritesfics repost #tommy shelby x reader

[sanjoongie]

Duchess of Death!

☠Pairing: Butler! Jung Yunho x Duchess! Reader (f) x Cook! Jung Wooyoung

☠Au: the Duke of death and his maid anime, anime au, noble au

☠Trope: mutual pining, noble/servant

☠Genre: angst, smut

☠️Word Count: 2,136

☠Rating: 18+, MDNI

☠Warnings: the entire sexy body of Jeong Yunho described in various compromising ways, mxm, handjob, mutual masturbation, verbal instruction

☠Summary: cursed as a child to kill anything you touch, you're banished to your family's estate in the country with only your faithful Butler Yunho by your side. He knows of your curse yet does everything in his power to push your limits--just to see your reaction.

☠A/N: To the Ying to my Yang. may we never see eye to eye and always laugh despite of it 🤣🤣 you’re always there to match my level and i never feel more myself than i am with you. We may fight, and sometimes it’s nasty, but I'd like to think that sisters fight the way we do, so that always eases my heart. Please never change, you’re my world, my sun, happy birthday @mejuii

“Yunho!” You call for your butler at the piano. “My oral fixation is acting up again! Fetch me something to suck on.”

“As you wish, Your Grace.” Yunho bows his head and reaches for his pants.

You watch in horror as he unbuttons them and places both hands by his hips, about to pull down his pants, implying--

“YUNHO!” You screech, covering your eyes with your gloved hands. “Why are you like this?!”

Yunho began to button his pants back up. “Why, because your reactions are so cute, Your Grace,” Yunho chuckled.

“I'll cute you,” You say, a grumble and a warning in your tone, “without the e.”

“Oh no!” Yunho covers his mouth in a mock gasp of horror. “Not my hair, Your Grace, you swore you'd never let me cut it. Or do you mean to say you wonder if I'm cut or not? Do you think that changes the texture on your tongue?”

Your face heats up, embarrassment thrumming through your veins. “No, I did not mean that! Stop with your sexual innuendos.”

Yunho smiles, lips only pulled up at the corners in the slightest, his perfect cupid’s bow  the epitome of temptation. And you will never be able to feel them against yours because of your damn curse.

When you were but a child, a witch had casted a curse on you; anything you touched would die. So you had been banished to this mansion, far from your family, with only your butler as company. It had been hard at first, to be away from your younger brother and sister but soon Yunho was the only family you needed. He eased the ache in your soul. 

“Your Grace, should I prepare the afternoon tea?” Yunho wonders. “Surely you should start utilizing the new chef we hired.”

You perk up at the mention of the new cook but wilt upon realizing you couldn't even thank him properly for the meals he prepared. “No, Yunho, I’ll have my sucker for now.”

“As you will, Your Grace.” Yunho bent at the waist to bow and went to fetch the sweet concoction that would do nothing for your hunger pains.

Wooyoung, unbeknownst to you, is waiting outside the doors in anticipation. When Yunho leaves the sun room and closes the door softly, he shakes his head and Wooyoung’s shoulders fall. All they want is to serve you and you continue to keep them at arm's length--physically as well as emotionally. 

Still, you cannot deny that Yunho has your heart utterly in his grasp. Whether he’s aiding you in moving the plants around to capture the sun best, or he’s tucking a blanket around you when you fall asleep in front of the fireplace, too stubborn to move to your bedroom, he’s your constant. He never leaves your side and you have come to prefer it this way. But it is still torture to know that you will never be able to touch, to kiss, to hug the one you love the most. 

Then one day, a small reprieve is given to you. You had been walking the halls of your mansion, specifically making your way to the wing that held the wonderful pieces of art your family had accumulated over the centuries. They didn’t hold any value or interest to you per say, but it gave you a purpose on this day. 

You scrunch your nose in confusion, tilting your head to follow the complex lines of one particular painting. Your confusion only increases as Yunho pushes into your personal space. In fear, you back up against the wall, palms pressed to the wall. Yunho slams a hand on the wall beside your head and his lip twists into a smirk. 

“If I had known you wished to gaze at something beautiful, I would have volunteered myself, Your Grace.” Yunho speaks in a lilting, low voice and you feel as if you’re being hypnotized by your butler. 

“Yunho!” You squeak, eyes avoiding his own.

Yunho takes the moment to eye you from bottom to top. If you had bothered to meet his gaze, you would have seen the hunger emanating from them. “What I would give to be able to pleasure you with my own hands…Your Grace.” The formality seemed to be added only because of habit. 

You bit down on your lip, the feeling mutual. You breathed quickly, inhaling his dark scent that belonged only to Yunho. “Me too,” you whispered as if you couldn't bear to say it louder. 

You hear pitter-pattering of feet, the screech of the sole of shoes along marble, and finally Wooyoung turns the corner. He braces himself against his thighs as he catches his breath. “....you bastard… Jeong Yunho…starting…without me!”

This causes you to meet Yunho’s eyes finally. His eyes mirror your own, wide and worried. “What is the meaning of this?” You demand.

Yunho backs off, but only slightly. “We should retire to your bed chambers first, Your Grace.” He uses his hand to point the way, bowing to a small degree and waiting for your feet to move. 

You sent a look to Wooyoung, attempting to read his face, but it’s cheerfully blank now. He sends you a winning smile, however, but it only causes you to grumble. The only way you’re finding out what’s going on is by following Yunho’s lead. You’ve been down this road before.

Once in your room, Wooyoung bounced on the balls of his feet while Yunho stood still. “Your Grace, we have figured out a work-around to you not being able to touch me.”

Your eyes flew open in excitement. “You figured out how to break the curse!”

Yunho winces. “Not exactly, Your Grace.”

Wooyoung whistles, seemingly innocent. “We figured out the next best thing!”

“Oh?” You raise an eyebrow at Yunho. 

Wooyoung caught his tongue between his teeth naughtily. “You tell me what to do to Yunho. I’ll be like an extension of your hands.”

Your jaw drops. “What?”

Yunho moves into your bubble, practically cutting off your view of Wooyoung. “I can tell you what I’d want to do to you. You would move your hands to my command. If you willed it, Your Grace.”

“Yunho…”

“Please please please!” Wooyoung begs, poking his head around Yunho’s broad body.

You take a step back and wring your hands through your gloves. “I don’t know…”

Yunho places a hand on Wooyoung’s shoulder to halt his movements. “It’s fine Wooyoung. I told you she wouldn’t want to see me in a debauched state with your hands on me.”

Your face flames up and you slap your hands to it. The pure and unadulterated image of Wooyoung grasping Yunho’s cock in his hand and Yunho’s head cast backwards in ecstasy cannot be erased from your mind’s eye. 

“Wait…”

“Your Grace?” Yunho cocks his head, always waiting for your command. 

“You should show me. A demonstration is in order,” You order.

Wooyoung gleefully giggles and then he’s zooming to your bed. Yunho sends you one more unreadable look and then he is moving towards your bed as well. He sits against the headrest like he belongs there. Wooyoung raises his eyebrows. “Well?”

Oh, right, you had to instruct Wooyoung. “Ummm… unbutton Yunho’s shirt first.”

Wooyoung clucks his tongue at you. “Tell us how you’d do it, Your Grace.”

“I…I would lean in to take in Yunho’s smell and then unbutton his shirt. Slowly.” How were you going to do this and not end up a puddle on the floor?!

“Ooooh!” Wooyoung leans towards Yunho’s neck and takes a deep breath. “He does smell good.” Wooyoung’s deft fingers pluck at Yunho’s vest and shirt until it’s gaping open for your viewing pleasure. “What next, what next?” Wooyoung looks at you eagerly.

You find yourself climbing onto your bed, legs splaying under your body at the foot of it. Wooyoung unbuttons Yunho’s trousers next and pulls him out. Yunho is already hard and impressively long. 

“I’d torture him. I’d run my hand up and down his shaft for hours, to hear his pretty moans just for me,” You whisper and then you clamp your hands over your mouth.

Wooyoung’s smile couldn't have been more full of teasing. “Your Grace knows exactly what she wants.” Wooyoung wraps his hand around Yunho and strokes him slowly, achingly slow.

Yunho swallows loudly and lets out a devastating moan. It’s exactly like you imagined in your bed, late at night, when you would touch yourself after a hard day of teasing from Yunho. It was exactly what you wanted to hear. 

“Your…Grace…” Yunho attempts to pull himself out of the lust he’s feeling from Wooyoung’s hand. “Please imagine my hands skimming up your legs and playing with your most intimate parts. I want to see my fingers pushing in and out of your sweet hole.”

You press your lips together in nervousness. Could you really touch yourself in front of both Wooyoung and Yunho? Wooyoung jerks his chin, as if to say “get on with it!” and you scowl at him, sticking your tongue childishly at him. Still, you remove your gloves, a wary eye on how far the two men are from you.

You pull your petticoats up, spreading your legs, and let your fingers play along your thighs. They skim and tempt and then finally you reach your mound. You move your hands to your hips to pull down your undergarments but Yunho’s grunt stops you.

“Don’t,” he says hoarsely. “Keep them on.”

You push them to the side instead, wetting your finger along your folds, before pushing one into you. “Wha-what next?”

Wooyoung is biting his lip, tempted by both the pleasure he’s giving Yunho and the picture you’re giving him, fingers inside of yourself. Yunho’s chest is moving up and down quickly, like he can’t catch his breath. “I would bring you to as many orgasms as I could give you,” He growls.

Wooyoung tsks at Yunho this time. “She needs direction, Yunho, not a prediction of your sex life.”

Yunho spares Wooyoung a harsh glare before focusing on you. His eyes follow your fingers and you swear he gains some energy and confidence from it. “I would make you feel every inch of my fingers inside of you.”

It’s your turn to gulp. “Fingers?” You squeak.

Wooyoung grins. “You heard the butler. Better put another finger inside of yourself, Your Grace.”

You groan as you stretch yourself with two fingers. It feels good to do as Yunho says and you get a little excited, pumping your fingers inside of you faster. “So good.”

“Your Grace,” Yunho moans, “Please, can you play with my head?”

“Oh Yunho,” You gasp.

Wooyoung, after a quick nod from you, rolls his palm along the head of Yunho’s cock, causing Yunho to jolt. His hands fist your expensive Italian silk sheets in response. “Your Grace, your hands feel lovely on me. I’m sure they’re soft and small but so good to me.”

“Yun-Yunnie,” You mewl in response. “Need you. Need you so badly.”

“Co-come with me, Your Grace. Let us climax together!” Yunho cries out.

You focus purely on coming from your butler. You thrust your fingers in and out of your sopping hole. You aggressively rub your clit as well, chasing that high that’s just out of the reach. Wooyoung’s fist quickly makes good work of Yunho and soon the two of you are coming together. Yunho’s gravelly groan makes your cunt clench around your fingers and you come with a long, drawn out whine. 

All three of you are panting in need but you are well aware that there is no step after this; this is as far as you can go. Until you break the curse, until you can touch Yunho without killing him, this is the most you can manage.

“We’re doing this again,” Wooyoung, of all people, declares. “I’m going to make us food. You two talk.” And with all the energy of a whirlwind, Wooyoung is gone with the quiet hush of a closed door.

You push your skirts down and Yunho tucks himself back into his pants. “Your Grace? Was that enjoyable for you? Please tell me it pleased you.”

You smiled through unshed tears. “It was wonderful, Yunho.”

“Your Grace.” Yunho’s voice is hoarse. He reaches out but lets his hand fall before he can touch you. “We will break this curse. I will marry you and we will be together in every way we’ve always dreamed.”

“I hope so Yunho, I truly do,” You sob.

The two of you sit there, embracing each other with your eyes only, for that’s all you can do. Until Yunho suggests that he touch himself again to get you to stop crying. That is when you choke out a laugh and throw a pillow at him. And all is well in the household of the duchess of death and her butler. 

#cultofdionysusnet #pirateeznet #jeong yunho x reader #jeong yunho smut #yunho smut #ateez smut #atz smut #topaz's work #ღatz #recent #my sunshine 🌞

[free-boundsoul]

Sooo I was thinking about Gavin outliving freelancer because who doesn't like subjecting themselves to angst and I'm like...yknow what, let's make it end happy.

So awhile ago, I don't remember where, I read something about people being reborn as stars when they die. And what are d(a)emons all named after? So my mind went with, what if after a time, human souls are reborn as d(a)emons? Maybe it's just limited to empowered people. Maybe it's just a luck of the draw. Maybe after you die you get asked if you want to be reincarnated.

But imagine, years or decades or even centuries after Freelancer passed, Gavin comes across an Inchoate demon. And under the horns...is a face he never thought he'd see again. Hears the voice he yearned for all these years, spoken aloud and not just in his memories. The same eyes he was lost in so many years ago.

And sure, the Inchoate may not have the memories of their past life, but they still feel a connection to this incubus. So they get to know him. Grow to love him. And Gavin thanks the stars that he gets to fall in love with that wonderful soul all over again.

(And as a bonus. Imagine the two of them running into other d(a)emons that make Gavin’s heart ache in familiarity. A large, cuddly empathy daemon that gives the best hugs. A somewhat prickly sadism demon that has a heart of gold under thorns. A stuttering and shy serenity daemon who still manages to put people at ease with his ramblings.)

(And then imagine Caelum finally able to be with his family again and this time, three of them could actually see and speak and return the hugs he gave them)

#redacted asmr #redacted audio #sorry im in a sappy mood