#Been meaning to write this one for quite a while

[sungbeams]

WIP DUMP

okay so this is lowkey inspired by @jayparked posting about her wips a bit ago (check them out here she's crazy talented and i can't wait to read them all) and since i've been struggling with writing recently i thought maybe sharing some of my wips could help. also biggest thanks to snail for helping me with the synopses for some of these and listening to me stress over the banners and everything

if you want to talk to me about any of them or wanna get tagged pls don't hesitate to send asks or comment on this post, i'd love to talk about them some more🥺❤️

MIDNIGHT IN MILAN — lhs

⟡ ┆ featuring. heeseung x fem!reader

⟡ ┆ genre and tropes. MDNI 18+ ONLY, smut, established relationship, idol AU (both heeseung and yn)

⟡ ┆ warnings. semi-public sex, unprotected sex, mirror sex, mild choking, creampie, fingering, tiniest hint of degradation (he calls her a slut like once), one singular spank, some hair pulling, not really any aftercare

⟡ ┆ estimated word count. 6k

they say love makes you do stupid things...surely fucking your boyfriend in the bathroom at the prada after party when your relationship isn't even public and neither of you can afford a dating scandal isn't that stupid, right?

(i'm well aware the hype around tipsy heeseung has already died down but i started writing this immediately after the pics dropped and then got hit by writers block so i'm dedicated to finish this)

!! more under the cut !!

HE HATES ME, HE HATES ME NOT — psh

⟡ ┆ featuring. sunghoon x fem!reader

⟡ ┆ genre and tropes. MDNI 18+ ONLY, smut, enemies to lovers, coworker AU, miscommunication (ikik), lowkey past fuckboi sunghoon

⟡ ┆ warnings. hate sex, semi-public sex (in an archive room?), protected and unprotected sex (there's several smut scenes), choking, spanking, degradation, praise kink, oral (m. and f. receiving), handjob, fingering, manhandling, overstimulation, dacryphilia, spit kink

⟡ ┆ estimated word count. 20k

park sunghoon hates you, and you hate him. it hadn't always been like that, when you first joined the company he works at he was friendly, a real gentleman, but over time of working together he turns cold, sometimes even downright mean, and you cannot for the life of you figure out what caused the sudden change in his behavior. however, things between you change yet again when you 'accidentally' get locked in your offices archive room.

HOME IS WHEREVER YOU ARE — lhs

⟡ ┆ featuring. heeseung x fem!reader

⟡ ┆ genre and tropes. MDNI 18+ ONLY, smut, college!au, friends to lovers

⟡ ┆ warnings. there's some talks of depression as well as unhealthy coping mechanism so be aware of that pls, protected sex (be proud of me okay), oral (f. and m. receiving), vanilla af, neither of them are virgins or inexperienced but they just having sex for the first time together after realizing they've been in love with each other for years :')

⟡ ┆ estimated word count. 14k

"distance makes the heart grow fonder." is no longer just a cliche saying. heeseung decided to follow his dreams, but doing so lead him to a different city, leaving you behind. no other friends, no hobbies to keep yourself busy, and no motivation to keep going, the only thing keeping you on some sort of routine is attending your college classes that your parents force you to go to. just when you're about to officially quit and give up, heeseung shows up out of nowhere and manages to pull you out of your slump, upturning your whole friendship in the process.

NATURAL REMEDY — pjs

⟡ ┆ featuring. jay x fem!reader

⟡ ┆ genre and tropes. MDNI 18+ ONLY, smut, physical therapist!reader, patient!jay, probably hipaa violations idk just don't do this irl basically

⟡ ┆ warnings. unprotected sex, oral (m. receiving), body worship (jay receiving bc he deserves someone to tell him or handsome he is), handjob, lots of oil, lowkey massage kink idek what to call this??

⟡ ┆ estimated word count. 5k

when jay hurts his knee while goofing around with his friends, his doctor recommends rest and physical therapy. lucky for him, your office is just around the corner, just that neither of you can make good on the ordered rest by doctor.

HEALTHY COMPETITION — lhs + sjy

⟡ ┆ featuring. heeseung x fem!reader x jake

⟡ ┆ genre and tropes. MDNI 18+ ONLY, smut, college au, non-idol au, and they were roommates (oh my god they were roommates), no romance just fucking

⟡ ┆ warnings. basically no plot, threesome (duh), protected and unprotected sex, anal, double penetration, spanking, oral (m. and f. receiving), multiple rounds, manhandling, they make it a competition to see who can make her moan the loudest...

⟡ ┆ estimated word count. 9k

your roommates bickering should be nothing but white noise to you at this point, but when they both rope you into their little argument of who fucks better things take an interesting turn and a welcomed distraction from studying is provided.

SNEAKY LINK — sjy

⟡ ┆ featuring. jake x fem!reader

⟡ ┆ genre and tropes. MDNI 18+ ONLY, smut, uni AU, frat boy jake (i'm sorry), friends with benefits but no one knows, alcohol consumption (they're not drunk and both consenting !!)

⟡ ┆ warnings. unprotected sex (it's a theme for me atp, don't do this irl pls), dry humping, fingering (it's jake come on now), kinda rushed sex ig, does it count as exhibitionism when they fuck in a spare bedroom idk, oral (f. receiving), breast play

⟡ ┆ estimated word count. 4k

frat parties usually weren't your thing, but when your best friend invites you (with the intention to be her wingwoman) you're not one to let her down. that is until you run into jake, whom you've been fooling around with without anyone knowing ...

© sungbeams — all rights reserved. i do not give permission to copy, repost, modify or translate my works.

[bisexualiteaa]

Omg! You should totally do one where he’s sexually frustrated. And the reader (female), teases him until he breaks! And when he does they get down to business BIG time if you know what i mean lol. But even when they do start to fuck the reader doesn’t listen to all his demands, making it more spicy once silco finally gets the reader exactly how he wants her.

On edge

AN: Thank you so much for this request!! I loved the idea so much and literally had so much fun writing this! Apologies that it took a few days, I again just wanted to make sure it was good and to what you asked! ♥️ I hope you enjoy and that I’ve done your ask justice! 🥺🫶

CW: no use of y/n, reader has hair, reader is AFAB, female anatomy, MDNI, cursing, teasing, heavy brät/brät tämer themes, Silco is t0uch deprived, r0ugh seggs, unprotected seggs, bïting, cream 🥧, slight dëgradation, p0rn w/o plot, äftercare, possible spelling/grammar errors

Also I’m not sure why, but as I was writing I was listening to this song and I just feel like it fits SO well! So listen along while you read if you’d like!

His forehead head sat in his hand as you entered his office, elbow leaned against the desk as his other hand held a glass, amber liquid and two ice cubes swirling around inside the ornate rocks glass. Whiskey, he only drank on the rougher days anymore, and judging by the cigar that sat in the ash tray on his desk, smoke emanating from it, told you he was having a day. You on the other hand, were in a different sort of mood, a bubbly, perhaps more mischievous mood. You weren’t quite sure what brought it about, whether it was your confidence just hitting a new high today, or what but you could tell from the sassy sway to your hips as you shut the door carefully behind you. Something you didn’t realize had in fact been noticed by him, he was just doing a very good job at hiding it.

“Rough day?�� You asked innocently, sauntering over to his side as you stood beside him. The scent of your perfume filled his nose the moment you moved closer, leaving him to inhale its intoxicating scent. Sometimes he wondered if you mixed a sort of drug into it with the way he craved its familiarity, wishing to smell it on his sheets, his jacket. When he did, it drove him wild, the transfer of it from just a simple hug was enough to leave him clutching the large jacket and taking a whiff on occasion when no one was looking or when he was alone in his office. Each time he did, he could feel his cock twitch with excitement as his mind would then drift to you. Sinful thoughts filling his mind of how good you would look splayed against his sheets beneath him, or how you would look bent over his desk as he ravaged you. Shimmer had nowhere near the effects that you had on him, it was almost impressive as much as it was sad. How long had it been that the simple scent of your perfume could cause him to go mad? Or for your fleeting touches to leave him with such carnal need? He couldn’t remember, but you made him feel young again in that sense.

“Quite” he replied plainly, placing the glass down on the desk, trading it for his cigar that had already been halfway smoked. You watched as he took a long drag of it before leaning back and releasing the smoke in an exhale upwards, ensuring he wouldn’t breathe it into your face. You loved the scent of his cigars, something about the tobacco mixed with smoke and his own personal scent left you enjoying being around him as he smoked more than you probably should have. There was something just so alluring about it. “Every time I turn around it feels as if something has fallen apart and is in need of my attention” he finally explained, leaving you to look upon him sympathetically. The lines of stress etched into his forehead and brow spoke truth of this, the bags beginning to accumulate beneath his eyes only further evidence to his unrest. Your hand came to rest against his thigh, rubbing soothing circles along his skin. Something you’d done in the hopes it would help him calm down a little, but you’d be a liar if you said you didn’t have ulterior motives behind it.

You felt his body tense for a moment from the soft touch, looking down at your hand that rested against his mid thigh. It was so close, so close yet so far. He wondered how it would look in your small, dainty hands, how good it would feel. He turned his head and shifted a little to try and erase the thought from his mind, but even as you removed your hand, its heat lingered on the spot like a painful reminder. “Zaun looks to their leader for guidance and aid, but even a leader deserves rest” you said, smoothing your hands along his jacket, flattening any wrinkles that formed from his previously hunched over position. You were bent over as you did, the shirt you were wearing giving him direct sight to your cleavage as your perfume continued to intoxicate him. Did you have any idea the things you were doing to him? Surely you had to, you couldn’t be so oblivious to your effect on him, could you? He was ashamed of the hold you had on him, how weak you made him from just a simple touch. He tried his best to hide it, and hide it well, but as you stood here before him he knew today may very well be the day he reaches his breaking point. “I’m granted no rest when someone walks through my door just about every hour” he replied, making you hum as you stood back up, watching his eyes trail you as you walked back over to the door. He felt himself release a breath he had no idea he’d been holding in as you put a slight distance between you. “Then lock it” you said with a cute little grin, the bolt turning in the door with an audible click before you turned back around, watching him clutch the cigar between his fingers with a fierce grip. His eyes bored into you with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine, no one has ever looked at you like that, with such fire in their eyes, with such desire. It made your stomach twist in knots. “No one can bother you if they can’t get in” you finished before returning to his side, this time watching as you boldly sat on an empty corner of his desk.

You couldn’t quite read the look on his face as you did, but you had noticed the way his eyes would flit up and down your body when he thought you weren’t looking. He took in the way your pencil skirt seemed to raise past your mid thigh as you sat down, giving him a flash of your panties from beneath it when you would go to cross your legs, leaving him incredibly hard beneath his pants. You were toying with him, you had to be. There was no way you were doing this all unknowing of the effects you had on him. Pathetically, he was falling for it, and he hated that he was. He caught the glimpse of a grin resting on your sweet, plump lips as your downcast gaze trailed him up and down, waiting for a response. You were teasing him on purpose. “You play with fire” he stated, making you giggle. “I know, I can’t help myself. I like the possibilities of being burnt” you answered confidently, your foot dragging up and down his calf affectionately. Janna almighty you’ll be the death of him, but if that were to be the case, what a hell of a way to go.

You watched him as he stood before you, hands planting on either side of your thighs as his face hovered close to yours. “You think you’re so clever? Waltzing in here with that short little skirt, teasing me and think I wouldn’t notice?” He asked, making you hum as your grin only stretched wider. “Seemed to be working just fine, was it not?” You asked in reply, feeling as his hands gripped your thighs, spreading them apart to allow him a place to stand between before pulling you to the edge of his desk where your hips met his. “You tell me, what do you think?” he replied, leaving you to gasp softly as you felt him pulse and twitch against your heat. “I think I have you wrapped around my little finger” you boldly claimed, your fingers walking up along his jacket before your arms looped around his neck, pulling yourself even closer to him but never fully closing the distance. “You think so?” He asked in response, making you giggle. That same smug grin rested on your lips as electricity thrummed between you, your faces mere centimeters apart, waiting to see if he would cave in. Your gaze flit to his lips with heavy lids, enjoying the mental turmoil you were putting him through as he fought caving in immediately. “You want me so bad? Come get me” you whispered, your breath ghosting across his lips as they hovered so very close to his own. He needed you in ways he couldn’t even begin to try and explain.

So he caved.

You felt his hand come to rest on the back of your head, fingers tangling in your hair as he pulled you even closer, finally closing the distance between you as his lips captured yours. The kiss was fiery, passionate and messy, a gravely groan leaving him into it. You could feel the rumble in his chest from it, paired with the way his lips danced against your own told you how long he’d been wanting this, how much he’d been needing this. Needing you. You couldn’t help the smile that stretched to your lips into it, thinking of all the ways that you could push his limits. Your hand smoothed down his chest, toying with his tie as his tongue swiped across your bottom lip, an effort to push the kiss further into something more intimate. You giggled as you denied him, earning an impatient groan in response as his free hand groped your ass roughly, making you moan. The moment you did, he took his chance, his tongue exploring you as it tangled with your own in a messy clash of teeth, tongue and lips. It had you dizzy.

When he pulled back he looked you over, not caring this time if you laid witness to it or not. He took the moment to take in how your chest heaved with each labored breath, how your cheeks were flushed, lips shining with swapped saliva. “Gonna keep staring at me? Or you gonna do something about that problem of yours?” You asked with a cocky grin, making him chuckle darkly. “Oh it will be fixed, but it won’t be me fixing it” he said, yanking on your hair to pull your head back, earning a pathetic whine from you as it made you look up at him, finding yourself unable to bite back in this position. “You caused it, you fix it” he ordered, making you moan as he rolled his hips against your own, brushing his painfully hard cock against your panty clad cunt, allotting you some much needed friction and stimulation. All you could do was look up at him, excitement and anticipation filling your gaze leaving him to chuckle. “No witty come back to that? I give you the smallest taste of how good I can make you feel and you give up just like that, hmm?” He asked smuggly, making your face grow hot with defeat before he let up on his grip in your hair. “Strip” he commanded, making you stand up and work at untucking your shirt before unbuttoning it slowly. He watched as every button came undone, more of your gorgeous body was revealed to him, his eyes raking over your curves. The fabric soon dropped to the floor haphazardly next to his desk, to be forgotten about until later when it would be needed again. Next was your bra. His eyes were trained on you as he watched you unhook the backing, allowing it to slide down your arms and join your shirt in a growing pile. Your nipples had hardened from the temperature change, the exposure to the air and from the excitement coursing through you in anticipation of what was to come next. Then came your skirt, its simple button and zipper being undone allowing it to drop to the floor and pool around your feet with ease, earning a groan from him at the sight of you nearly naked before him. You hooked your thumbs into the sides of your panties, working them down from your hips before they fell to your ankles, leaving you to kick them off to the side with rest of the pile. You watched with much intrigue and entertainment as he seemed to twitch with anticipation and need for you, making you giggle.

“How long has it been?” You asked curiously, a cocky grin on your lips and confidence in your tone as you looked at him, looping your arms around his neck. There it was again, your perfume, overwhelming his senses. “I beg your pardon?” He asked, brows furrowed and sending a rather defensive look your way. “How long has it been?” You asked again, watching as he looked you up and down. “Since?” He asked in reply, not seeming to understand what you were hinting at, or maybe he preferred you just spit it out. “Since you had sex. Can tell by the tension in your shoulders and the way you practically moan with every touch that it’s been a while” you pointed out playfully, making him a little angry that you managed to get beneath his surface and figure him out so well. “You best be careful of that mouth of yours. My kindness, even with you, has its limits” he responded, making you hum. “Then go ahead, be mean. I’m a big girl, I can take it” you challenged making him walk closer to you, inching you towards the edge of his desk. “You want me to be mean, do you?” He asked, the rasp of his voice lowering to a much deeper tone, a crooked smile resting on his lips. He couldn’t lie, the slight tinge of fear resting in your eyes when you felt your back hit his desk, telling you there was nowhere left to go, awakened something dark within him. Something carnal, animalistic. You looked like nothing more than helpless, vulnerable prey, and he was about to eat you alive. You couldn’t deny the predatory look in his eyes certainly worked wonders on you in return. “Don’t look so concerned…” he started, bringing his hand up to cup your cheek gently before leaning in close, leaving his lips just millimeters from yours.

“I’m about to make your day” he finished, his words mixed with the feel of his breath ghosting your lips so closely send a shiver through you in excitement.

It wasn’t long before his pants were around his ankles, thrusting his cock balls deep into your soaked cunt. Your shared panting and moans, paired with the creaking and screeching of the poor desk beneath you that had been slowly inching its way across the floor with each thrust, filled the room. Should anyone walk past his office, there would be no mistaking what was happening just behind the door. Though you supposed your moans could have likely alerted all of Zaun at this rate, with your first orgasm of the night already past you, it’d be a miracle if no one could hear you. Your head was tilted back as he drilled into you, gripping your hips with a bruising pressure as your arms looped around his neck for leverage. You watched as he looked down to the space where your bodies were connected, watching his length disappeared inside of you with ease. He couldn’t help but to notice the little white ring that rested at the base of his length from your previous orgasm as the sound of his hips smacking roughly against your ass filled the room. “Fuck! Oh gods, yes!” You moaned, making him grin. “How long has it been?” He asked, looking to you, waiting for a response from you but your pleasure-idled mind was so foggy you could hardly understand what he was asking you. “Since? Oh fuck! Right there!!” You replied the best you could, tilting your head back again, leaving your tits just inches from his face as your back arched upwards towards him. “Since someone fucked you right. Since someone made you feel this good” he finished, making you whine as his hand grabbed your jaw, squishing your cheeks as he forced you to look back up at him. The cute pout that rested on your face, occasionally morphing into ones of pleasure each time his tip bullied your cervix, had him rutting into you harder. “Never! Not ‘til you- oh!” You managed, making him chuckle as he relinquished you from his grip. “Pathetic. You put up all that fuss, do all that teasing and yet I still manage to get you right where I want you” he said through grunts of pleasure, his neatly slicked back hair slightly falling against his forehead that had a thin sheen of sweat. “Feels so good! Oh gods, Silco!” You moan pathetically, knowing he was exactly right but you didn’t care. You’d spend every night here like this with him if he made you feel this good every time.

You felt as that familiar sensation in your lower belly began to take root again as his lips captured your own in a messy but passionate kiss, your moans raising in pitch and growing closer together a clear sign that you were close. As if on que, his fingers traveled between your bodies, coming to rub your clit to give you that added bit of friction you so desperately needed. You gasped before moving your hips against his and his fingers, meeting his merciless thrusts and fucking yourself on his fingers. “You’re right where you belong. Beneath me like this, cumming on my cock as I please you like no one else ever will” he said, rubbing your clit faster to make up for the way his thrusts were beginning to lose rhythm. You were so close to finally falling over the precipice, your body feeling as if it were catching on fire as your every nerve ending lit up. His words were what sent you there. “You’re mine” he growled, biting into your shoulder as you came together, his bite sending you toppling over the edge into pure bliss, while your walls squeezed him tight, milking him of everything he’d been holding in for far too long. Your body twitched and spasmed with the intensity of your second orgasm of the night, a pleased hum leaving you as you felt him cum inside of you, throbbing repeatedly as he emptied everything into you.

You both sat there for a moment, basking in the afterglow of your orgasms together, fighting to catch your breath. You watched him smooth his hair back with his hand, doing his best to get it out of his face and back to how it was originally styled, or at least the closest he could get it. You smiled as he kissed you softly, leaving you to cup his dance gently in your hands. “Are you alright?” He asked into it, checking to make sure he hadn’t overdone it and hurt you. You gave a hum then a giggle. “I feel wonderful” you said with a bubbly grin, making him chuckle as he continued to kiss you, not wishing to leave your arms or the taste of your sweet lips just yet. “Good, as do I” he replied, making you grin even wider. “Fuck yes you do” you said, playfully yet truthfully, making you both laugh. “Oh is that so? Have I ruined anyone else for you?” He asked, the hint of possessiveness in his tone as his lips traced down your neck. “You might have. Not that I care to find out, you said it yourself; this is exactly where I belong, and it’s exactly where I intend to stay” you said, your head tilted a little to grant him better access to your sensitive skin. You heard him groan next to your ear as his lips lingered upon all your most sensitive spots.

What caught you by absolute surprise was the sensation of him throbbing within you, twitching to life again from inside of you. You gave a gasp with both intrigue and excitement as he looked to you with a grin. Apparently your words had let the monster out, because stay there you would for nearly the rest of the night, getting lost in one another without a care for how sore you’d be tomorrow. It was well worth it when you were with him.

[cuntphoric]

can u do a bf gojo eating u out roughly out of nowhere and even after begging and crying for him to stop he doesn’t 😛😛

a/n; I GOT YOU, i hope this reached your expectations because i know it certainly didn't for me lol, i'm still working on how to write a fem!reader receiving cunnilingus so bare with me. not proofread!!

you were already gasping, hips twitching as gojo worked his tongue against you in a way that made your brain cloudy. he started soft, slow enough to make your chest ache with how carefully he was taking you apart. he was taking his time to ruin you. his lips brushed over your clit like he was tasting something delicate, and every gentle swipe of his tongue had your toes curling. he was dragging his tongue out - then pushing it back in.

his hands rested firmly on your thighs, thumbs drawing lazy circles into your skin as you shifted under him. you tried to squirm away, just a little for more friction, just so he can go faster- but his grip held you steady. "mm, where’re you goooinng?" he murmured, kissing the inside of your thigh, nipping at the skin to make you whine, before returning back to your clit. "stay still for me, yeah sweetheart? i've got you, don't you worry."

but.. yeah no, now he's the one getting impatient.

everything about him was deliberate. his tongue traced slow, teasing circles around your clit, never quite giving you enough to push you over the edge but more than enough to make your breath hitch. he was in control, and he knew it. every now and then, he’d glance up at you, his pretty, lightening blue eyes that were half lidded and just was glittering with lust. this was a game to him and he was winning, unsurprisingly..

until he shifted that is, because without warning - his grip on your thighs tightened, fingers digging in hard enough to leave marks. his mouth that was just gentle, became fast, lips latching onto your clit as his tongue flicked over the sensitive bud with a rough, feverish lick. you jolted, your back arched instantly, a sharp cry slipping out as your hands flew to his hair.

"s-satoru, wait!" you suddenly choked out, your hand flying to his hair in an effort to pull him away but instead, instinctively, your thighs wrapped around his head, locking him in place. it wasn’t intentional, but the pressure only seemed to spur him on, his tongue working meaner, harsher, as if he wasn’t already driving you insane. he let out a low, muffled chuckle, one of his hands sliding down to grip your hips as he pressed his face even closer, nose brushing against your bud.

until his free hand grabbed your wrist, pinning it to your side effortlessly to look up at you.

"wait?" he murmured, his voice thick and dripping with a mocking, mean tone. his lips were slick, chin glistening with your wetness from how thoroughly he’d been working you over. "hmm.. nope! i don’t think i will."

before you could protest, he dove right back in, sucking your clit with a bruising force while his fingers slid between your wet folds. two fingers plunged into you without hesitation, curling perfectly to hit that spot. you thrashed under him, the overstimulation felt too much for you, tears spilling down your cheeks as you begged and begged.

"b-baby, please! it’s too much- i c-can’t!" your voice cracked, broken and desperate, but he didn’t let up. if anything, your pleas seemed to fuel him, a low, short laugh rumbling against your core as he pressed his tongue in harder, drawing another strangled cry from your lips.

"too much?" he said, pulling back just long enough to taunt you, his voice almost a low growl. "nothing's too much, silly!"

your legs trembled uncontrollably, your body writhing as he bullied your cunt. his fingers moved faster, thrusting into you while his tongue circled your clit in quick, rough strokes. your sobs and moans were basically all he heard, your hands clawing at the sheets as you felt yourself on the verge of cumming.

"pleaase, i.." you couldn’t finish, your body jerking as the pleasure ripped through you in waves, but even then, he didn’t stop. he continued to lap your pussy, his hands kept your hip and wrist pinned down as his mouth stayed latched to you, dragging you through a mean orgasm until you were shaking and crying, completely wrecked.

and WHEW. what a mess.. you were sobbing and shaking as your orgasm came through you, your whole body trembling and spent.

only until then when you were finally able to push him off did he finally pull away, lips and chin shining as he grinned up at you. that bitch ass grin. "see? told you you could take it," he teased, pressing a kiss to the inside of your thigh, rubbing the inside of your thigh gently.. back to square one.. again.

"you’re doing soo good for me though.. just one more, yeah? maybe two."

[selfcarecap]

Dear Santa

✧ Logan Howlett x female!reader x Wade Wilson

✧ summary: Your best friend and roommate Wade is a little lonely over the holidays, third-wheeling with you and Logan the entire time. But the holidays are all about giving, so you and Logan decide to fulfil some of the more sexual wishes on Wade’s wishlist. Or: You have a threesome with Logan and Wade.

✧ warnings: smut 18+ (oral sex, piv sex, cum eating, frotting kinda, liittle bit of ass eating (f rec); deffffinitely attraction between Wade and Logan but the focus is on the reader), Christmas mention (just for the seasonal vibes, not the religion obv. wanted to make it neutral originally but sorry I needed Christmas vibes specifically!!), this is my first time writing Wade beyond a few lines, idk if I did him justice but either way this was so fun to write!

gorgeous dividers by @dollywons <3

✧ word count: 4.7k

Wade Wilson likes to flirt. That’s no secret. 

But he’s been even more flirty recently, in the weeks leading up to the winter holidays. In fact, he’s been so flirty that you had to check in with your boyfriend Logan to make sure that he doesn’t mind. 

And no, Logan doesn’t mind. If anything, he enjoys watching how Wade makes you squirm with the sexual remarks that you have to pretend are below your level but you actually quite enjoy. 

It started when you bought yourself some cute Christmas pyjamas, pink and with a cheesy pattern on them. 

“You look so cute, I could just eat you out,” Wade said as soon as he saw you in it. 

You sat down between him and Logan on the sofa, ready for your first December movie night, and you shared an unsure look with your boyfriend. 

“Don’t you mean you could just eat her up?” Logan asked, an eyebrow raised. 

Wade considered it for a moment. “Hmm, no. I said the right thing.”

You spent the rest of the night flustered, leaning into Logan and hiding your face in his neck as deeply as you could. 

-

The next time it happens is when you get out of the car after buying some festive decorations for your shared apartment with Wade. 

You’re getting the shopping bags from the back when you notice him still in the driver’s seat, leaning over to inspect the place you were just sitting. 

“What are you doing?” you ask Wade, cheeks heating up. 

“I was just checking if you were sitting in a pile of sugar, cause that ass is looking sweet.”

-

“You know why they call me Wilson?” he asks you over breakfast one time. 

“Because that’s your last name?”

“No, because I will soon be between your legs.”

You take a bite of your food, humming, “That one still needs some work.”

Wade nods, “I know, still experimenting on the execution. Thanks for the feedback.”

-

“Does my tongue taste funny to you?”

You roll your eyes at Wade. “Ew.”

“No, I mean it, I think I’m having an allergic reaction. Can you at least look at it?”

“Oh!” you hurry towards him. 

-

“You know, baby angel,” he tells you one afternoon, “I think you’re the only one who can still be on Santa’s nice list despite being so naughty.”

Your eyebrows inch closer together, “How am I naughty?”

“Your bedroom is right next to mine, Miss likes-being-spanked.”

“Oh…” is all you manage to say. 

“But from what I hear in there you are a good girl, so that checks out with Santa’s nice list.”

-

It’s not strange per se that he’s acting this way, but it still makes more sense when you find Wade’s Christmas wishlist. 

You’re in his bedroom to get back a hoodie of yours that he borrowed ‘because it smells like you’ and he wanted to cuddle it while he sleeps. He said it so sweetly that you couldn’t say no, though you hope cuddling is really all he did to it. 

You find the piece of paper jammed between the bedframe and the mattress, and it only catches your eye because of the messy ‘Dear Santa’ scribbled at the top. 

Wade is always graphic, but reading his wishlist still makes a tingle run up your spine. All that’s on the list is things he wants to do with you and to you, all of sexual nature, of course. Logan is involved too. 

You read Wade’s wishes and get giddy, running to your bedroom to show Logan. 

You’ve been struggling to find a meaningful Christmas gift for Wade, so this is going to be perfect. Now all you have to do is wait for the next horny joke – and you’re sure that won’t be long.

-

It’s Christmas Eve and you and Logan are watching some show when Wade comes in. It’s toasty warm, the fairy lights reflecting on the tv screen during every dark scene. You’re sitting between Logan’s spread legs with your back against his chest.

Wade sits down next to you two, eyes glued to your legs, bare underneath an oversized graphic t-shirt. You give him a minute before he says something.

His words come three seconds later.

“If your left leg is Thanksgiving, and your right leg is Christmas, can I visit you between the holidays?”

You lean to the side to glance up at Logan, who gives you a subtle nod. You settle back against his chest, “Sure.”

“Wait, what?” Wade’s jaw drops.

You giggle, humouring him, “What do you wanna do when you visit me between the holidays?”

He scrambles for an answer, still surprised at your words, “Since Logan is my little honey badger,” your boyfriend huffs from behind you, “and honey badgers are named after their favourite food, I wanna know if your honey is as sweet as I’ve imagined.”

You laugh but Logan grumbles, “If you wanna eat her pussy, just say that.”

Wade rolls his eyes, holding a hand to the side of his mouth, “Honey badgers are no fun,” he says to you, “But yes, I wanna eat your pussy.”

“Okay,” you say, smiling.

His eyes light up. “Okay? Like, you’re giving me your consent okay?” 

“Yes, Wade,” you giggle, watching him fall to his knees in front of the sofa as he gently pushes your legs apart. His fingers against your skin immediately make you feel warm.

Before Wade can get to your panties, Logan reaches around from behind you and pulls the hem of your shirt down, blocking Wade’s view. “Ah,” he chides, “No fucking manners. You kiss her first before you get between her legs.”

Wade doesn’t have to be told twice.

Your lips meet with a fervour exactly like you would expect from Wade. You figured he’s been lonely the last few weeks, single and alone while you and Logan are still in the honeymoon phase. You’re glad to provide some love for Wade. He deserves it.

While Wade almost bites your face off, Logan’s hands find your hips, gently circling the skin there, and you can practically feel the heat from your underwear radiating in the little space between you.

Logan knows your body so well by now that he can tell immediately when you’re getting needy. He reaches around you, taking hold of Wade’s jaw, interrupting the kiss.

“Now,” Logan commands.

“Don’t boss me around, the only one who can boss me around is this little thing,” Wade’s hand trails up your knee. You giggle, trying to suppress the moan you want to let out.

You spread your legs for Wade as he gets back on the carpeted floor, hands smoothing up your legs, playing with the hem of your panties. You want to tell him to stop teasing, the butterflies in your stomach almost too much to bear.

He laughs, “Oh, who am I kidding? I don’t have the self control to tease you like this.”

You lift your hips for Wade to pull your panties all the way down your legs, grateful that he doesn’t comment on how wet they already are. You don’t comment on how he stuffs them in his pocket.

Logan helps Wade spread your legs further, two sets of strong hands digging into the flesh of your thighs. You’re getting wetter by the second.

“This is even better than seeing Hugh Jackman oiled up and shirtless with ‘Like a Prayer’ playing,” Wade says when he sees your pussy.

“What?”

“Huge who?”

Wade ignores the questions. “God,” he whispers, leaning in to press a kiss to your clit, and you resist the urge of your legs to weakly fall shut from the pleasure.

He takes his time with you, eating your pussy like a five course meal, making out with it like he never wants it to end. Wade moans against your skin even more than you moan from the pleasure.

He fucks you with one finger, then two, while he licks your clit, but it’s still not enough. Luckily, your boyfriend recognises your need.

“Quit squirming, will ya? So needy,” Logan scoffs, lifting your hips off him for a moment to pull down his sweats, taking out his hard cock. You give him a desperate nod before he can even ask anything, and Wade helps position you so that Logan can slowly sit you down on his dick, all three of you sighing in pleasure as he bottoms out.

“Mhmm, good girl. Much better. Was startin’ to get cold anyway.”

You nod mindlessly, pussy already pulsing around your boyfriend. 

“So fucking pretty,” Wade mumbles. He licks your clit, your pussy stuffed full with Logan’s dick.

Logan lifts your shirt over your head, discarding it in a corner of the sofa, playing with your tits from behind you. Wade looks up at your chest, tongue on your puffy clit, and moans so hard his eyes almost roll back. He brings a hand up to squeeze your tit, leaving his hand there.

“You close, baby?” Logan asks, able to feel your every squeeze around his cock, and you nod, grabbing his knee for support.

“Yeah, pretty girl, cum for us,” Wade parts with your pussy for just a split second to say this. Logan’s hand comes down from your boob to gently press down on the space between your abdomen and your pussy, and you feel everything three times more intensely.

Wade begins to suck on your clit, and that’s your undoing. You whimper as you try to fuck yourself on your boyfriend’s big cock just a little bit, squeezing around him, as Wade sloppily licks your clit to draw out your orgasm.

All of Logan’s willpower trying not to cum flows into your hips as he grabs you there. You feel a warm load of precum in your pussy, but he manages to resist the urge to cum, pulling you up and off his dick as soon as you stop pulsing with the aftershocks.

All three of you are out of breath. Logan turns you towards him to press a big kiss to your mouth, pinching your cheek, “You really needed to cum, hm? Did so well.”

“That’s three Michelin stars right there,” Wade says, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and licking it afterwards.

You blink at Wade.

“Exceptional cuisine, worth a special journey?” he offers. 

“Michelin? I knew that guy…” Logan says, shaking his head a moment later, “You wanna keep going?”

You nod eagerly.

Your boyfriend smirks, “Let’s see if Wade can make you cum too.”

Wade puts a hand on his chest as he stands back up, hard dick tenting his sweatpants, “Je m’excuse. Were you not just there for me licking her pretty pussy until she came?”

Logan shrugs, “I was the one inside her, bub.”

Wade huffs, “That’s not how it works and you know it.”

You smile, pulling Wade’s face closer to kiss him again.

“Can I fuck you?” he asks in between kisses.

“Yes, but not yet.”

Logan completes your thought, “Not before I cum in her.” You smile at his possessiveness.

Wade puts his hands on his face, “Woah, wait. Did you two plan this? That’s so hot.”

You’re already on all fours, Logan getting on his knees behind you, rubbing his cock between your pussy lips. You sigh in pleasure, pawing at Wade’s sweatpants and pulling him to the sofa by the drawstrings.

He moans, pushing his sweats down and getting in front of you, “Well, merry fucking christmas to me.”

You kiss Wade by his hips and support yourself with a hand on his thigh. He gets the tiniest little bit harder, a brief flex of his dick, now fully hard. A drop of precum drips down, and you only just catch it with your palm before it lands on the sofa. 

Logan smiles behind you, “Can’t have him ruinin’ the sofa, hm, baby?”

You nod lazily, and look up at Wade, “Can I?”

“Holy shit, baby, of course you can.” Wade looks you right in the eyes when you open your mouth to take the head of his cock past your lips, moaning when you taste him.

Logan begins to fuck you at the same time, slowly at first. You suck Wade’s dick in the rhythm of Logan’s thrusts, slow but firm, that move you forward a little bit every time. Somehow, you manage to still look up at Wade with a little fucked out look in your eyes as your boyfriend fucks your wet pussy just how you like it.

“Such a good girl, baby,” Logan mumbles, “taking us both so well.”

Wade stutters “Yeah, yeahh, knew this would feel good but,” he needs a second to recalibrate when you move your head down to lick his balls, heavy cock falling against your cheek, spilling precum. Wade’s eyes fall shut as his head drops back.

He continues after a few moments, “but this feels like heaven.”

When you move back to his dick and take him into your mouth all wetly, Wade cums instantly. The pleasure of having him pulsing against your tongue and his cum spilling down your throat makes you clench around Logan’s cock so hard that he moans. 

“Yeah, baby, cum for me,” Logan sneaks a hand around your hip to play with your clit, and with Wade’s dick still throbbing against your tongue, you cum too. You feel Logan letting go, fucking his cum into your pussy that’s squeezing him with the pulse of your orgasm.

 You all come down from your shared high giddy and giggling, Wade’s hand smoothing over your cheek, Logan’s hand soothingly running down your spine.

Wade’s dick, still hard, flexes in front of your face when you look at him, sticking out your tongue, his creamy cum covering it. “Saved you some,” you say carefully, making sure to not let any of it spill from your mouth.

“You’re perfect,” he groans, bending down to kiss you and messily make out. Some of his cum spills from between your mouths, dripping down your chest.

Logan manhandles you to turn you around onto your back, and you bounce a little when you land. Then he bends down to lick Wade’s cum off your chest in one broad lick. You’re too excited yourself to pay attention to Wade’s reaction. 

Logan moves to rest your head in his lap by his lower thighs, cock hard again and close to your face. He nods between your legs, telling Wade, “there you go. She’s wanted this for a long time”

Your head snaps straight up so that you’re looking at Logan, your gazes meeting. Your skin heats up all the way down to your chest and Logan smirks, “It’s okay, princess. This pussy’s still mine.” He reaches between your legs to deliver a gentle slap to your pussy, collecting some of his cum from inside you on his fingers, bringing them to your mouth. You suck them eagerly, and then sit up briefly to pull his face into a kiss.

“I love how we taste together,” you tell him.

Wade gets between your legs and tuts at Logan. “What an animal, doesn’t even clean up after himself,” he huffs and promptly licks your pussy. He smirks up at you and Logan, “I love how you two taste too.” 

“Need you to fuck me, Wade.”

“You have no idea how long I’ve dreamed of hearing those words. Fucked my fist listening to you fucking so many times, gave myself friction burn.”

You and Logan share a smile. You know this; he talks to himself while he’s jerking off – you’re not sure if he’s aware.

Wade lines his dick up with your pussy, pushing your legs up against your chest, teasingly slapping his cock against your clit until you’re squirming. When Wade fucks you, he fucks you slowly, tauntingly yet desperately.

Logan lazily plays with his cock, slapping it against your cheek and your tongue from time to time, your mouth eagerly chasing after him, but he’s just teasing you, wants you to focus on Wade.

“Doin’ such a good job, baby,” Logan says from above you, stroking his hand over your cheek.

“Thank you, peanut,” Wade says, eyes closed, thinking Logan is talking to him. You both let him remain in that belief. 

Wade is lost in the feeling of your warm, wet and tight pussy around his dick, languidly fucking you as your pussy starts to squeeze around him more and more as you get closer to your own orgasm.

“God baby, feels better than anything I’ve ever felt. Can’t last much longer”, Wade rasps, playing with your clit. But it’s messy, and Logan can tell it won’t be enough for you. He bats Wade’s hand away and circles your clit instead.

You cum before Wade, moaning as your pussy clenches around him, triggering his orgasm. Your back arches as pleasure flows through your belly and spreads throughout your whole body, Wade’s hips desperately chasing to keep that heavenly feeling until he stills inside you while he’s bottomed out.

“Still haven’t made her cum,” Logan says, with a teasing smile.

Wade looks up, “I was the one inside of her, bub.”

You roll your eyes at their teasing each other, but you don’t care as long as it’s about your pleasure. You don’t care who made you cum.

“Bend over for me, baby,” Wade says, pulling out, “wanna see if that ass is really made of sugar.”

You laugh as you get on all fours, Wade pulling your hips in place. He bends down and licks your pussy where he just came in you, swallowing some of his cum. 

Then, he grabs your ass so hard your cheeks spread. Wade licks around your tight hole, and you wrap your hand around your boyfriend’s hard dick. Logan bends down to give you a kiss, and you moan into his mouth as the tip of Wade’s tongue pushes inside you.

You can’t deny that it feels good but you’ve never let Logan’s mouth stay near your ass long either. You squirm so that Wade moves away from your hips, and he gives you ass a teasing slap as he sits back up.

“Definitely made out of sugar,” he concludes.

Just when Wade is about to stand up, some more of his cum drips out of your pussy as you involuntarily clench around nothing, and he stuffs his face back between your legs. He sits back up with cum in his mouth, ready to kiss you, but you shake your head, looking up at Logan.

Your boyfriend pretends to be unaffected, but you can see behind it.

“Can he?” you ask Logan, and he agrees to it. You grab his jaw and open his mouth manually, biting your lip as you look at Wade. Logan’s skin is hot under your touch.

“Here you go, open up,” you beam at Logan, watching as Wade holds his jaw all tenderly, spitting his own cum into Logan’s mouth. You hold your breath as you wait for them to kiss, but the moment doesn’t come.

You visibly pout when they pull away without making out.

“I know, sugar bear, me too, but Peanut’s not ready yet,” Wade shrugs.

You press a quick kiss of encouragement to Logan’s lips, and he and Wade are on you again within the second, but you need a break after your orgasms. But that little exchange, their lips almost close enough to kiss, turned you on so much that you want to see more of them.

You tell them to sit together, facing each other, as close as they can. Their muscular thighs are tangled around each other’s hips, Logan’s leg resting over Wade’s on one side, vice versa on the other one. Their dicks are close enough to touch with just a little bit of assistance.

“Can I?” you ask, kneeling in front of the sofa.

“Can you what, princess?” Logan bites his lip.

“Rub your dicks together?”

“Yeah, but come here. Don’t wanna see the face it’s attached to.” Logan lies down and lifts you on top of him, your pussy in his face and your upper body by their pushed together crotches.

“Oh pfft, you know you love it,” Wade comments.

“He does,” you kiss him for reassurance. Logan is obviously into Wade, he just hasn’t admitted that to himself yet.

Logan begins to lick at your pussy, tongue playing with your clit. “Don’t. Can’t focus,” you warn with a teasing smile.

“Sorry, couldn’t help myself.”

You wrap one hand each around their cocks, just jerking them off for a few moments.

“Don’t make it so suspenseful, sugar bear, or I’ll cum from the anticipation alone.”

“Would that be a bad thing?” you shrug with one shoulder, smiling down at their throbbing dicks in your hands.

As much as you’d love to see Wade cumming all over himself before you’ve even started, you have other plans. You let some of your spit drip down over their tips, jacking them off a bit faster, hearing their breaths stutter.

“Peanut, you’re really missing out not being able to see her. She’s so gorgeous.”

“I know she is, Wade.”

You smile at their compliments, lowering your head to trail your tongue between their cocks, paying more attention to your boyfriend first, then to Wade. They taste of your pussy and their precum, wetting your tongue with their taste.

Playing with them for a bit, you rub their dicks together, jerking them off at the same time.

“You need some assistance?” Wade asks, sitting up more and moving his hips. All you have to do is hold your boyfriend’s dick in place as Wade grinds against him, rubbing his cock against Logan’s for a few moments.

“God that feels good, wanna cum,” Wade groans.

“Off,” you tell him, smiling when his hips still in defeat. You tease them both a little longer, rubbing their tips together until their precum mixes and they’re both close, but you don’t let them cum. 

You get off them, telling them to stand up while you sit on the sofa facing them, leaning back a little.

“Which one of you wants to cum on me first?” you ask, voice sweet and angelic. 

They both start jerking off immediately, and you almost drool at having these two tall, muscular men stroking their dicks right in front of you – and for you – fighting over who gets to drain their balls for you first.

It’s Wade who cums first, a string of obscenities leaving his mouth as he jerks his dick to orgasm, painting your stomach white with his cum. Logan isn’t far behind, telling you what a pretty girl you are as he cums over your belly and tits. Their cum mixes, and it becomes impossible to tell whose cum landed where.

You sit up to lick your boyfriend’s dick clean, then Wade’s, then you lie back, puffing out your chest.

“Can one of you get wipes to clean me?” you ask innocently, knowing exactly that’s not what they’re going to do. They get to their knees simultaneously, starting to lick their cum off you, licking you clean.

They sit down next to you afterwards, you sandwiched between them. They lift one leg of yours each over their lap, touching you all over, putting their hands between your legs.

“Such a good girl for us, hm?” Wade says.

Your boyfriend agrees. “Did such a good job, baby.”

“You wanna cum again? Wanna cum for Logan and me?”

You nod lazily, all blissed out already, “yes please.” Your eyes fall shut at how good it feels, and at some point you can barely tell who is kissing you, whose hand it is playing with your nipples, or whose fingers are inside your wet pussy.

You cum for them, clenching hard around the fingers inside your pussy as another hand grabs at your knee to keep your legs apart. When you open your eyes again after a few moments, both men are looking at you lovingly, and it’s Logan who slowly pulls his fingers out of your pussy, delivering a few gentle, smoothing circles over your clit.

You grab his wrist to bring his fingers up to your face, looking him in the eyes, at how they light up when you suck his fingers into your mouth to taste yourself, no matter how often he’s seen you do it.

“You’re such a lucky bastard, honey badger,” Wade smiles, leaning his head against the back of the sofa.

You innocently smile at Wade, “I’d say I’m quite lucky too.”

-

You end up cuddling in your and Logan’s shared bed, all fucked out of your minds, freshly showered but exhausted to bits. 

“All in all, a successful Christmas Eve,” Wade says, making you giggle.

You force yourself from your warm and cozy position between them when you remember Wade’s list, grabbing it off your bedside table, along with a pen.

Wade’s cheeks redden in recognition at the piece of paper, “You found that? That was just me writing fanfiction before bed one night.”

“We wanted to give you a nice gift,” Logan grumbles.

“Yeah,” you agree, “We didn’t want you to feel like you were third-wheeling all throughout the holidays.”

Wade smiles one of his sweet smiles, “Thank you, guys. You’ve made this little guy,” he points at his face, “and especially this big guy,” he points at his crotch, “very happy.”

“Let’s see if you got all your wishes.”

Dear Santa,

I’ve been an exceptionally good boy this year, my kill count is at a measly 34. I think I deserve a few things. Here are my wishes for Christmas this year:

- Eat out Logan’s girlfriend

“You know she has a name, right?” Logan huffs.

“Of course, but the writer didn’t want to have to use the dreaded y slash n.”

“What?” you cringe.

“Nothing, keep reading.” 

- Eat my or Logan’s cum out of her pussy

- Sword-fighting with Logan while his girlfriend supervises

- Cum eating contest off her body with Logan 

- Cuddle with them

“What genius came up with this?” Wade grins.

“We had to do some interpreting, but we got everything, right?”

Surprisingly, it’s Logan who points at the last wish, “We haven’t done that one yet.”

“Yippie!” Wade claps, “cuddle wuddle time.”

“Nevermind,” Logan says, ready to get up and sleep on the sofa, but you pull him back by the wrist, giggling.

You switch off the lights, putting Wade’s wishlist away – all wishes checked off.

Logan moves closer to you, pressing his chest against your back to cuddle, giving you a loving kiss before lying down.

“I love you, princess.”

“I love you too.”

You let Wade snuggle up to you as the little spoon, draping your arm over his chest, and he holds onto your wrist with a warm hand.

“You made me a very happy Christmas boy, you know that?”

You laugh, “We love you, Wade.”

“I love you too,” he says, and lies his head down on the pillow. You kiss the side of his head before you pull the blanket over yourself.

“Merry Christmas, Wade.”

Just as you’re about to fall asleep a while later, you hear Wade’s voice:

“You know that means Santa’s real, right?”

P.S. Thank you so much for reading <3 Let me know what you liked and reblog to get on Wade’s and Logan’s nice list 🤭😇 and Merry Christmas!!! <3

[mejaemin]

nonchalant- jeon wonwoo

wc: 0.9k

summary: clingy wonu /ᐠ - ˕ -マ

warnings: streamer!wonu, writer!reader, fluff, not proofread !!!

an: i can think of so many ways to make a pt.2 to this… will i? nope!

───── ⋆⋅ ⊹ ⁺ 𐔌 ᩧ ຼ ͡ ৯ ♡໒⁀ ᩧຼ ꒱ིྀ ⁺ ⊹ ⋅⋆ ─────

the letters on your laptop’s keyboard are surely to start fading any time soon, but it’s worth it. especially right now. there’s yet to be a single time where you’ve felt this much inspiration in your entire career, so you refuse to let this go to waste. your eyes flicker to the notebook sitting next to you, information on the paper translating in your mind and being typed out into coherent sentences on the document.

you’re really proud of what you’ve written so far. you had your boyfriend read your unorganized thoughts you had set out for the plot and what not, and he thinks it’s good too. once your brain felt ready to start writing the real thing, your fingers were flying. you slipped your headphones on, essentially blocking out the entire world as you worked. you started when it was still light out, and you’ve only gotten up to use the bathroom, really. it’s dark now, and although he’s not working quite as hard, you can still sense your boyfriend moving around the house, making commentary as he pre records gaming content.

he’s left you alone so far. he’s not the type to nag you too much about taking care of yourself, especially when he’s already learnt his lesson about interrupting you when you have one of these moments of inspiration. not to mention he has times like this too, even if it was for something like a long term livestream. still, he treats you how he would want to be treated in the same situation. by that he means undisturbed… with the occasional interruption, of course. he likes to have his game time but if he isn’t filming he still wants to be with you.

your phone is on do not disturb, keeping wonwoo’s obnoxious friends and their instagram reel notifications from disturbing your work, so when a message notification dings through your headphones you know who it is.

won🖤: Are you almost done yet?

won🖤: I’ve finished recording.

you: no, sorry love :( i still have some left in me.

you: just a little more, okay?

won🖤: Just a little more. I try not to be that guy, but you really should stop soon. Eat something

you reacted with 👍

setting your phone down, you crack your knuckles with a sigh. you were reaching the end of your inspiration spark, so you really wanted to rush to get whatever you could in. it’s extremely rare that this happens, and you couldn’t stress it enough. you’ve got deadlines to meet, and for this to happen to you was literally perfect. you’re basically set, and might even be able to take a day off tomorrow.

you’ve gotten back onto your groove, putting the music on high while you work. you’re typing word after word, paragraph after paragraph flawlessly. everything you’ve been mapping out for weeks is finally coming to fruition, and it’s doing so perfectly. you’re so zoned in that you don’t notice when wonwoo comes in, only taking note of his presence when the weight shifts on the bed and his head lands on your shoulder.

you pause, pulling the headphones off your head. “do you need something?” you ask, hand instinctively coming to brush through his hair.

he looks up at you, and you’re sure he doesn’t notice the way he’s pouting. it’s rare that he’d be like that voluntarily. “how far are you? you’re almost done?”

“mm, i don’t think so.. sorry. i really need to make the most of this or else i’ll never get this finished.” you kiss the top of his head, and as soon as you put your hand back towards the keyboard he grabs it.

“you’ve been sitting here all day.”

“yeah, i noticed. but i’ll do just a little more, ‘kay?” you kiss his crown and return to work.

you finish the second to last plot point you had mapped out, and now you’re just revising what you done so far. even by your own standards you’ve done enough, and since wonwoo is indirectly begging you to spend time with him (in his own way) by clinging to your side, you suppose you can stop for now. it hasn’t even been that long and you can see him looking from his phone to you every three seconds. it’s cute really, how he’s trying so hard to be nonchalant about it when he wants to spend time with you so bad. every time he wants your attention, he sort of hovers around you and stares at you until you give it to him. he’ll never say it out loud, but he’s definitely going to be obvious about it in other ways.

you shut your computer and set it on the night stand, turning towards him fully. the corners of wonwoo’s mouth twitch as he tried to hold back his smile, but you know he’s happy that he’s won.

“you’re done now? are you gonna go back to work, or are you really done?” he asks, sitting up and readjusting his glasses.

you giggle at his cuteness, kissing his cheek. “yes, nonu. you’ve got my full, undivided attention now, ‘kay?”

he’s already up before you are, rambling about how excited he is to spend the rest of the night with you, even if it’s already late. he’s walking into the kitchen to make ramen for you, talking about eating it together while watching something, and then stopping to ponder about what to do after. you trail behind him, a smile on your face. your nonchalant, black cat boyfriend who uses very few words will throw it all out the window if it means getting your attention and keeping it for a good moment.

───── ⋆⋅ ⊹ ⁺ 𐔌 ᩧ ຼ ͡ ৯ ♡໒⁀ ᩧຼ ꒱ིྀ ⁺ ⊹ ⋅⋆ ─────

[tkwrites]

Soft Launch; Hard Launch - Quinn Hughes x ofc

gif from @kawhh

Title: Soft Launch; Hard Launch: A 500 Follower Celly

Author: Tory / @tkwrites 

Relationship: Quinn Hughes x Sarah Roberts (ofc) 

Warnings: Though most of this is fluff, there is a really nasty comment left on a social media post and mentions of poor self body image.

Summary: 4 times Quinn soft launched his relationship with Sarah, and one time he did it for real.

Word Count: 2,900

Comments: The idea of writing a 4+1 fic for my 500 mark has been rolling around my head for a while, so when I hit 500 followers about a week ago, I thought I'd try my hand at it. Many thanks to @aloragrace and @captainlexaproluvr for looking over this piece and calming my fears about doing new things. I’ve never written in this format before, but I quite like the way this turned out.  I’d love to know what you think!

I'm just bowled over and so excited! Thank you all so much. Knowing people enjoy my writing has been so fulfilling to me. I’ve wanted to write since I was about thirteen, but never had the guts to publish anything for people other than my friends to read. Now that I have and know that people like it, it feels a bit like I’m giving my little inner awkward teenager the best gift she could ever ask for. Thank you for your encouragement, kindness, and support! I can’t tell you how much it means to me.  

If you did enjoy this Snapshot, please let me know by commenting, reblogging, or sending in an ask. Your encouragement and comments truly inspire me to keep writing. 

Soft Launch; Hard Launch: A 500 Follower Celly

A Quinn & Sarah Snapshot 

1.

The first time Quinn put Sarah on his social media was after they got home from the family reunion. The Monday after she left, he was looking back through his photos while he waited for her to get off work. He found one from their beach day he’d completely forgotten he’d taken. Sarah was kneeling over a tide pool with a few of his cousins, pointing to something in the water, while they looked into her face with rapt attention.

Even though her face was mostly hidden from view, she looked beautiful in that casual way he loved so much. Her hair was up in a bun, and she was wearing a pair of denim shorts along with her orange swim top.

Do you mind if I put this on my stories? he asked later that night, once she'd texted that she’d arrived home safely and would call as soon as she changed.

“I don’t mind,” she told him after they said their initial hellos, caught up on each other's day, and he asked again. “I’m a little surprised this is the first photo you want to go with,” she admitted. 

“Why?” 

“I don’t know. I thought maybe you’d want to go with something more…” she trailed off, unsure exactly how to phrase what she was thinking. She’d only glanced at it, but from what she remembered, the photo wasn’t anything special. It was from the tide pools, and though it fulfilled the mission of showing her without showing her whole face, she didn’t look excessively beautiful or anything. In fact, the first thing she’d zeroed in on were her stomach rolls. Echoes of girls calling her too fat to be with NHL superstar Quinn Hughes rang in her mind. 

“I like it,” he defended before she could find the right words or slide down the slippery slope of body image woes. “You’re doing what you love.” 

It melted something in her that he looked at that photo and saw her passion. “That’s really sweet, Quinn.” 

“So it’s okay?” 

How could she say no now? “Yeah. It’s okay.”  She reminded herself she wouldn’t see any of the things people were saying about her unless she sought them out, which she had no intention of doing.

He put it up with nothing more than an orange heart in the corner as soon as they hung up from the FaceTime call.

Less than a minute later, Eunice raced into Sarah's room. She was so overly excited, she ran into the door jam, bouncing off of it before regaining her balance. She thrust her phone into Sarah's face. “Quinn put you on his stories!” 

Glancing at the screen, Sarah smiled. “Yeah, he just asked me if he could put that photo up.”

“Oh my god. This is so dreamy,” she gushed, turning the phone back around to look at the picture again. “You look so pretty.” 

2.

The second soft launch was on his main feed at the end of the summer, though he still didn’t show her face.

It wasn’t until they got home from Hawaii and all shared their photos that Quinn realized just how many pictures his mom had taken. He was used to her snapping pictures of them - it was a very common occurrence to look around at any given moment, especially on vacation, to find her brandishing a camera to document everything she could.

He’d never appreciated it more until he was looking through the shared album and saw all the moments his mom caught. There were photos of him and his brothers and him and Sarah once she got there. There was even a video of his and Luke’s shock at their girlfriends’ arrival.  

His favorite picture she took was from the beach outside of their vacation rental. Anxious for a quiet moment together, Sarah pulled him outside to watch the sun set.

The rest of the family was inside, debating something about dinner. They had been on a kayak and hiking tour that day, and he was so tired, he was beyond caring. As long as some kind of food was provided, he’d be fine.  

His mom must have walked out onto the back porch to snap the photo. 

 The sun, sinking into the ocean in front of them, turned them into shadow as Sarah leaned her head on his shoulder. It was the kind of photo people put in vacation advertisements, and when he’d seen it, he knew it had to be included in his end of summer review.

He uploaded it with a carousel of six other photos before captioning the post, One for the books. 

After receiving sixty notifications in the first five minutes, most of them from people he didn’t know asking who the girl in the 5th photo was, he muted the app.

It wasn’t until he looked at the comments that evening and saw, I think this must be that fat bitch he was dating during the season. I was hoping they’d broken up since he didn’t stay in Vancouver this summer and she did, that he disabled comments all together.

He’d been so angry that someone who didn’t know either of them would say anything like that, he had drafted a reply before realizing he was about to engage in a reactionary argument with someone he didn't even know or have any emotional ties to. He wanted to correct them, but knew he should really get PR help to do that. 

When they talked about social media for the first time in their relationship, Sarah explained how the comments from these so-called fans made her feel. Even though she knew they didn’t know her as a person and didn’t have any place in their relationship or lives, it was difficult not to let them get to her. 

He knew the feeling well. He’d gone through the same thing when he accepted the captaincy. The pressure to perform had been so immense, it had turned him into a snappy, short-fused, irritable person until, at the advice of some other captains in the league, he started putting his phone down regularly. 

3. 

The third came when it was his turn to sit for a 32 Thoughts podcast episode with Elliott and Kyle, and they were shooting the breeze before the actual interview began. 

“We missed you at dinner,” Elliott said, referencing a banquet that the league had hosted the night before for all players and press on site for the whirlwind pre-season media tour.

Without really thinking about it, Quinn found himself explaining, “my girlfriend's family lives here, so Jack and I had dinner with them last night.”

“She's not here?” Elliott asked. 

“No, she has stuff going on back home so she couldn't be, but it was nice to see them.” Some players brought family to the media tour, but not many. It was a short stint, shorter than most road trips during the season, so most didn’t bother.

Their producer, Shanna, flashed a red light, letting them know it was time to start the formal interview. Kyle counted down, “three two and one,” before introducing Quinn and starting with the questions. 

At the end of the recording, both Elliott and Shanna asked if he wanted them to cut his talk about his girlfriend and her family from the episode. Usually, they left those anecdotal conversations in, especially on the youtube videos, but this one was a bit more nuanced. 

“I think it should be fine, but can I talk to her about it and get back to you?” 

“Of course,” Shanna said, smiling. “It’s not slated to go up for a few weeks, so just let us know by the 17th.”

When he'd asked Sarah about it that night after arriving home, she seemed unconcerned. 

“I think that's kind of up to you.” She knew from their FaceTime conversation the night before that Quinn, Jack and their agent had eaten at Rachel's house, so there was no risk of someone posting photos and making the connection they were with her family.  

“I mean, people have been speculating you have a girlfriend, right?” she asked. 

“Yeah.” It was more than speculation at this point - most people knew he had someone. They just didn’t know who she was. 

“And people who found my instagram already know I’m from Nevada, so I don’t really see what the worry is.” 

He’d expected her to be more worried about it, but now that she was responding to him with cool logic, he had to admit she had a point. 

The next day, he messaged Elliott along with his agent to let them know they could keep the anecdote in the recording. 

When it hit the airwaves, Sarah purposefully didn’t check any of the messages Eunice sent her for a few days. Eunice had taken it upon herself, and continued at Sarah’s request, to report big gossip to her so Sarah wasn’t tempted to go on the blogs or fan accounts. 

Most responses were sort of victorious bragging, posting about connections with Sarah’s instagram “about me” section where she talked about being from Nevada, feeling that this interview proved them right. 

4. 

The fourth time wasn’t planned. 

When Quinn got home from their first regular season road trip, the apartment was dark. It was past two in the morning, and Sarah had a therapy appointment at eight, so she hadn't waited up for him. 

In his trek through the apartment, he paused by the dining room table. Until Sarah moved in, walking into the apartment after a road trip was often the worst part of the whole thing. He was always glad to be back in his own bed, but nothing seemed to exasperate his singleness more than coming home. Not only was he going from being surrounded by the team to being totally alone, he was coming home to an empty house. The combination of the two felt stiflingly lonely.

The mess of textbooks, highlighters, and notebooks left out on the dining room table was such proof of someone else living in the house, it made his chest feel full. 

In a spur of the moment act, he snapped a picture of the dimly lit chaos and posted it to his Instagram stories. No caption, no explanation. Just the simple proof that he wasn't alone.  

“Why did you put a picture of my books on your instagram?” she asked the next day after getting home from her appointment. 

He shrugged, “I liked it.”

The season before, anytime she would study at his house, she would clean everything up, organizing it all back into her bag before going home or coming to bed. 

Now, her books often stayed out on the dining room table on weekends. He offered to convert one of the spare bedrooms into an office for her, or let her use the office he had a computer in now, but she turned him down. 

“I like studying out here,” she'd said, glancing up to look out of the windows. “If it bothers you, I can put everything away.” 

“It doesn't bother me,” he'd said, leaning down to kiss her temple. “I just want you to be comfortable here.” 

She had beamed at him and turned her head to brush her mouth over his. 

5. 

Quinn waited until the one year anniversary of the day he and Sarah met to officially announce their relationship. 

He knew by that time that they could go the distance. He'd seen her through every month and every season and saw no major red flags. Not to mention the fact that everyone in his life liked her, and her family and friends seemed to like him.

Over the course of the year, he'd moved pictures he liked of Sarah and pictures he liked of them together into a favorites album he simply called S. So, in late January, he put together a post and sent it to his PR rep to look over. After they sent it back with some edits, he showed it to Sarah. 

Sarah, who for her part, knew this was coming but wasn’t quite sure what to expect, was taken a bit off guard. She knew Quinn read a lot and was thoughtful with his words, but reading his simple summary of their relationship made her melt. 

He’d included 5 pictures of her that were interspersed with 5 pictures of them together. The first photo was that perfect, golden hour sunset selfie. The rest were all photos she knew he loved. She’d seen some of them, and some of them, she hadn’t. There was a candid shot of her laughing with Jack and Luke that she hadn’t seen before as well as a picture she never knew he’d taken of her sitting at the dining room table with her laptop, looking pensively at the screen, fingers poised to type. There was the photo of them in front of their Christmas tree, and one of them laughing so hard, they were falling all over each other on a beach in Hawaii.

Under the photos, he’d simply written, The best year. and tagged her in the final photo - the dreamy picture Kaitlyn had taken of them under the mistletoe. 

“Quinn,” she breathed, looking up to find him smiling expectantly at her.

“You like it?” he asked. 

“I really like it,” she said, fighting back the tears that pushed at her eyes. 

“You’re sure you’re okay with this?”

He was ready for the world to know that not only was he taken, he was taken with her, and not afraid to say it, but he knew it would likely open up another door of criticism she’d never been exposed to before. 

“Yeah,” she said, nodding. “I’m ready.” 

The fact that Quinn wanted the world to know, without a doubt, that she was the one he was with made her heart race. 

They didn’t have to hide anymore. To her, it was the last, final cementing block in their relationship. It spoke of his faith in their future and his dedication to staying with her. He wouldn't put it out for the world to see if he had any doubts. 

He posted it right before practice two days later so he could work the anxiety of it off. 

When he got back to his locker an hour and a half later, he had 1,654 likes and over 200 comments. At first glance, they all seemed positive. Not that what random strangers thought of him meant much, but it was nice to know his fans were happy he was happy. 

Bonus scene: 

On the afternoon of the anniversary of their one year of meeting, Reece stopped Sarah as she walked into the building after work.

“I’ve got a delivery for you, Ms. Roberts,” he said, walking with her over to the security desk. 

Before he’d even picked them up, Sarah knew it must be the large bouquet of flowers that were an absolute riot of color - purple and yellow, red and pink, white and green. 

Quinn was out of town - playing in Toronto at that very moment, in fact - and she knew he must have sent them in place of being there in person. 

“Thank you, Reece,” she said, accepting the flowers and a card from him before heading upstairs. 

Trying to manage the vase, card, and her school bag, as well as press the button in the elevator, resulted in her accidentally slopping a large amount of water down her front. Thankfully, the large bouquet hid the spill from anyone else in the elevator, and she was the only one to get off on the top floor. Upon entering the apartment, she set the vase and card on the bar and went straight up to change. 

It wasn’t until she wandered down to make dinner during the second intermission and saw the bright flowers that she remembered the card. 

Her full name was on the envelope in someone else’s writing, and the front of the card was completely blank, so when she flipped it open, she was surprised to find Quinn’s handwriting filling most of it. 

It’s been one year since I took refuge in the aquarium, only to stumble upon a beautiful woman giving a talk about octopus and took the chance to ask her out. Back then, I just thought she was one of the most beautiful people I’d ever seen. Now I know that not only is she beautiful, she’s smart, kind, supportive and so driven she inspires me to do better. I don’t like to think what my life would be like if she’d turned down my offer for lunch, or I didn’t get up the guts to talk to her. This time with her has been a whirlwind and the best year of my life. 

I wrote this for the caption of the post that went up today, then realized the only person I really wanted to read it was you. 

Happy one year of meeting, Sarah. I’m so glad you took a chance and went out with me even though I was more than a little awkward. 

I love you. 

Love, 

Quinn 

Moved to tears by his thoughtful words, Sarah snapped a picture of the flowers to put up on her stories, adding the caption, Love you, @_quinnhughes, before texting him.

I love you. I can’t believe it’s been a year. Here’s to a million more.

Want more Quinn & Sarah? Check out the Snapshots Masterlist

To read all my fics, check out the Fanfiction Masterlist

[cressidagrey]

The moment I could see it - Part 4

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Ariel Cane (Original Character)

Summary: 5 Times that Gianpiero Lambiase thinks that Ariel Cane and Max Verstappen are weirdly similar…and 1 time he is just happy that the two of them are no longer pining after each other. 

Warnings: 

GP's POV, mention of cancer, mention of parent's death

Author Notes: I am back to my old tricks...which means I write from the most random of POV's just because. (I once wrote a chapter from a dog's POV so like, GP doesn't even really count.

Quite frankly… GP had expected fireworks. 

He had expected Max and Ariel to have explosive disagreements. He had expected her to give up 6 months in. He had expected them to clash at every turn. A battle of wills.

What he hadn't expected however...was the fact that the two of them needed less than 2 months to be completely and utterly besotted with each other.

Or Best Friends as they had titled themselves.

They got along creepily well. They didn't have disagreements. Or if they had, then they didn’t have them anywhere GP or any other staff member was privy too. 

Max and Ariel had an almost...terrifying dynamic. It was like they were on the same wave length, like they thought the same things at exactly the same time.

And the way Max would look at her sometimes...

It was like he was mesmerized.

But more than that...Max also actually... listened to her. 

She could say something to him and he would actually stop and think about it. She had a way to say things to him that made the cogs in his brain spin and Max actually reconsidered. It was almost unbelievable.

Max Verstappen: renowned wild child, and international racing car river… Was hanging on the words of a young, attractive girl. Not only hanging on her words, but taking them into account and adjusting his behavior according to them.

GP sometimes wished he could bottle some of that when Max was being unreasonable to him. 

But it seemed to be something that was just…utterly Ariel. 

Ariel who turned the mighty Dutch Lion off the race track into a domesticated kitten that looked at her adoringly and who GP had found more than once in his driver’s room napping with his head in her lap, while Ariel drew her fingernails over his scalp and answered her emails one-handed. 

Max clearly wasn’t the only one who was besotted. 

That was the part that was most concerning to GP. The fact that Ariel seemed to be just as head over heels for Max as Max was for her.

It was a mind-boggling turn of events. Gianpiero still had a bit of trouble wrapping his head around it, and it had been almost one and a half years since these two started working together.

It was crazy. It was insane. It almost felt surreal.

But there was no denying it. Max Verstappen was actually paying attention to Ariel's opinions and advice.

GP still couldn't decide if he was impressed, confused, scared or all of the above.

The rest of the team spent much of the 2020 season not worried about a global pandemic but wondering when the two of them would figure things out. GP had to admit, he and the other members of the team had more pressing things to worry about than the relationship between Max and Ariel. Between dealing with the restrictions and disruptions caused by the global pandemic, as well as Max Verstappen's actual races, there was plenty to worry about.

However, the ongoing...whatever was going on between the two of them was a frequent topic of conversation.

"Do you think they're dating?" one of the mechanics would ask.

"Nah, they're just friends," another one would reply.

"No way, there's something going on there," yet another person would chime in.

The constant chatter and speculation about Max and Ariel's relationship went on for months.

"I bet they're dating in secret," one of the engineers would say.

"Not a chance, they're just friends," a press officer would counter.

"I don't know, they seem pretty cozy together," a member of the marketing team would chime in.

It was like a never-ending game of “guess the relationship status”.

And then... Silverstone 2021 happened.

Gianpiero still winced when he thought about that day. 

It was one of the most intense and stressful races of the season. The mood around the Red Bull team was tense as the race unfolded. Everyone was on edge as they watched Max battle it out with Lewis. And then Max and Lewis Hamilton had come into contact. 

GP watched as the two cars came together at Copse corner, a sickening feeling of dread settling in the pit of his stomach.

The Mercedes was fine. The Red Bull careened into the wall.

GP would never forget those moments after the crash. The seconds that ticked by as they waited for confirmation that Max was alive and conscious. The silence, as everyone in the team held their breath, waiting for news.

He didn’t know how Ariel had reacted to it. He ha been so focused on the radio an the life stream to the accient sight, that Ariel hadn’t been on his mind. 

He did later hear that Ariel had been waiting in the medical tent by the time Max had been brought in there… that she had been in the hospital with him, when they had scanned his brain and sent him back to the hotel with a concussion and bruises but thankfully, gloriously alive…

The next morning he showed up at Max’s hotel room with definitely nutritionist unapproved cinnamon rolls and coffe, because the guy had nearly died, so the least he deserved was a sugar rush. 

Ariel was the one who answered the door.

There, standing in the doorway to Max's hotel room, was Ariel. She wore a simple t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants, and her hair was tousled, indicating that she had just woken up.

GP blinked, momentarily taken aback by her presence. "Ariel," he said, his voice carefully neutral. "Is...Max still asleep?" 

He was also quite sure that she was wearing Max‘s shirt because it was too big for her, hanging loosely off her slender frame.

“I would be, but somebody insisted on waking me every hour,” came the grumbling voice of Max from inside the room. 

GP quirked an eyebrow at Ariel, who just rolled her eyes. He couldn't help but notice the look of fondness on Ariel's face even as she rolled her eyes in response.

“Good Morning, GP, I hope you slept well,” she greeted him drily, opening the door for him to enter the room. 

“And just for the record, it was Doctor’s orders because of his concussion,” Ariel explained. 

It made sense, but still...GP couldn’t help but find it slightly amusing that Ariel was the one who was apparently tasked with waking Max up every half-hour.

Max sat on the bed, still looking a bit groggy. He gave GP a sleepy nod in greeting, while Ariel closed the door behind him. 

GP couldn’t help but notice the domesticity of the scene. The two of them just woken up, in Max’s hotel room, and Ariel...wearing Max��s shirt. He returned Max's sleepy nod and turned his gaze towards Ariel, who leaned against the closed door with a fond yet slightly weary expression.

As he observed the domestic scene in front of him, GP couldn’t help but notice how...natural and effortless they seemed together. Max, still weary and in his pajamas, and Ariel, wearing his shirt, standing by his side.

"How are you feeling?" GP inquired, addressing Max. His eyes flicked between the two young people in front of him, trying to gauge the situation.

Max shrugged, running a hand through his messy hair. "Like Lewis Hamilton shunted me into a wall," he replied his voice quiet.

GP gave a sympathetic wince at that. "That bad, huh?"

Max nodded, a grim expression on his face. "Yeah, that bad," he said gruffly. "My head feels like it's been used as a boxing bag, and my back is killing me."

GP grimaced again. "Well, that's to be expected. You took a pretty hard hit."

He paused, studying Max's face for a moment before adding, "I know the doctors said you'll be okay, but you scared us all there for a bit."

Max grunted in acknowledgment, "Yeah, I guess I did." He looked a bit sheepish for a moment before returning his gaze to GP. "Sorry for worrying everyone," he muttered, but there was a hint of humor in his eyes, like he was secretly pleased with the attention.

Gianpiero gave a dry chuckle. "No need to apologize. You didn't plan on getting shunted into a wall, after all."

He glanced around the room, taking in the mess of clothes, blankets, and various medical supplies scattered around the bed.

"Looks like you have a good nurse keeping you company, though," he noted, shooting a look at Ariel.

She was still standing by the door, her head propped up against it lazily, watching the two men with a small, fond smile.

Max's mouth curled into a smirk. "The best nurse there is," he said with a shrug. “Even when she has a horrible bedside manner,” Max added drily. 

"Yeah, and you told me to fuck off," Ariel shot back.

A smirk tugged at the corner of GP’s mouth as he watched the exchange between the two.

Max reached out and patted the bed beside him, signaling for Ariel to sit down. She pushed off the door and padded over, sitting down beside Max and letting him wrap an arm around her.

GP found himself raising an eyebrow at the sight, taking notice of how comfortable and natural the gesture seemed to be for these two.

GP couldn’t deny it; the sight of Max’s arm wrapped around her like it was the most natural thing in the world, didn’t surprise him as much as it should’ve. There was something about their dynamic that was strangely magnetic…and a little disconcerting.

Max grumbled a bit, but there was no heat in his voice. "You deserved it," he muttered. "Who the fuck wakes someone up every hour after a concussion?"

Ariel rolled her eyes, a hint of amused irritation in her tone. "Someone who doesn't want your brain to leak out your ears," she shot back. "And I don't have a horrible bedside manner, you're just a pain in the ass when you're concussed."

Max huffed in mock affront, feigning offense. "I'll have you know, I'm a model patient when I'm concussed," he said, a hint of amusement in his voice. GP let out a snort, silently disagreeing with Max's statement.

"Yeah, right," Ariel said, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "Because a model patient throws a pillow at the person trying to wake them up every hour."

Max shrugged, looking entirely unapologetic. "You shouldn't have said I was being cranky," he said with a sly grin.

Ariel rolled her eyes again, a hint of fond irritation in her expression. "I was only being honest," she said dryly. "You were being grumpy and moody and impossible to deal with."

Max feigned offense once more. "Grumpy and moody?" he repeated, sounding offended. "I wasn't being grumpy and moody! I was just...in pain. And tired."

Ariel shot him a disbelieving glance. "That's just a nice way of saying grumpy and moody," she pointed out. Gianpiero quietly chuckled, finding their banter quite entertaining.

Max pouted, his lower lip sticking out in a pouty expression that would have look silly on most people. On him, it looked...well, adorable. "I was being justifiably grumpy," he protested, and yet there was a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

Quite frankly, GP had expected Max to be...well, furious about the crash. About the fact that he had had pole position and would have probably stoo on the podium if not actually won....

GP would’ve been furious if he were in Max’s shoes...but Max wasn’t angry. He seemed more resigned than anything, and strangely...comfortable. GP had to wonder if it was because of Ariel’s presence by his side.

There was something about Max when he was around her, like a transformation from his usual hotheaded, fiery self, to a calmer, gentler version of himself

"You seem surprisingly calm for someone who was on track to win the race before you were shunted off the track," GP noted, fixing Max with a curious glance. "I thought you would be angrier," he said carefully.

GP studied Max curiously, noting the slight wince of pain on his face as he shifted on the bed. Max's response was a nonchalant shrug, coupled with a grimace. "Oh, I am angry," he replied gruffly, a hint of annoyance in his voice. "But somebody really smart has to me, that being pissed off won't change anything. It's not going to un-crash the car or heal my head."

GP couldn’t help but let out a dry chuckle at that. Max’s grumbling response combined with the way he looked so disgruntled and resigned was rather amusing. "Somebody really smart, huh?" he repeated, looking pointedly at Ariel.

Max’s mouth curled into a half-smile, and he shot a sideways glance at Ariel. "Yeah, somebody really smart," he said with a hint of emphasis. Gianpiero noticed the way Max looked at her, a mixture of affection and something else in his eyes.

"And she also reminded me that nothing would hurt Mercedes more than to lose the championship," Max continued. “Looking back won’t help me win either.” 

GP’s eyebrows rose. "So...you're going to win the championship out of spite?" GP inquired, half-joking.

Max shrugged, a wicked grin on his lips. "Why not?" he said, his voice almost nonchalant. "If it'll really piss Mercedes off, I'm all for it. Plus, I get a championship. Win-win situation, right?"

"Powered by spite and Red Bull," Ariel said with some amusement.

Gianpiero chuckled at that, watching as Max nodded in agreement. "Nothing like a little spite and Red Bull to fuel a championship win," he agreed with a grin.

[hourcat]

phoebe hourcat's favorite piarles fics of 2024 <3

hiiiii everyone! i was inspired by @delicate44's fic rec post in the piarles tag earlier and realized that i should do my part and shout about the fics i LOVED this year!!!

it was a pretty good year for piarles canon, but it wasn't a bad fic year by any means, either 😉 i did my very best to spread my recs evenly and as unbiased-ly as possible...but you know how it be sometimes.

so without further adieu, i present: my favorite fics from this year, in no particular order, that deserve All The Awards. 💖

"We could go," Pierre says. "To Lourdes, I mean."

here in procession by fromnowhere

Charles is even more beautiful than he was in the photo. He’s wearing a black coat - conservative, but nice. Designer if not a few seasons old, and he’s not wearing a hat or a scarf, but he does have on gloves when he extends a hand out to Pierre. Which Pierre takes, trying not to falter under the sheer beauty of him. “Hello,” Charles smiles, eyes crinkling up. “It’s so nice to meet you.” And without hesitation, he leans in and kisses Pierre on the cheek - once on the left and then on the right. It’s been so long since Pierre was greeted this way, it shocks him for just a moment. He’s beautiful and he smells like cologne and something fresh and he’s still not let go of Pierre’s hand - the cool leather underneath Pierre’s hand seems so…foreign. So flipped.

cause baby, I'd be satisfied forever by tiredtiredsharl (nsfw)

“You know,” Frédéric’s hands are crossed in front of him, fingertips tightening after every pause, “there is only one thing that brings stability to a Kingdom without it being a marriage.” Charles draws in a sharp breath—he knows, nodding almost imperceptibly once Frédéric falls into a hesitant silence. A courtship.

hearts in the byline by ilpredestinato

The one where Charles’ drink gets spiked with the omegaverse version of a fuck-or-die drug. (Pierre helps.)

you filling my cup (the sun coming up) by ohmygasly (nsfw, chussy)

Charles Leclerc, a brilliant young chef from the fine-dining world, is forced to return home to run his local family restaurant - Monaco's "Le Cheval Cabré" - after a heartbreaking death in the family. A world away from Michelin Stars and the realm of fine dining, Charles must confront the anguish of his past and find a place in the life he once thought he'd given up for good. All the while, Pierre, a ghost from his childhood and the only true friend he's ever had, remains firmly by his side and he doesn't seem to be going away anytime soon.

Le Cheval Cabré by m00nlightE

Pierre might be many things, but he’s not someone that takes his chances lightly.

taking your time by Anonymous (nsfw)

“I could hurt you,” Pierre says reproachfully to what he can see of Charles' blushing face. Most of it is buried sideways into his pillow. “Y’wdnnt,” Charles garbles into the fabric. “Pardon?” Charles’ whole body twitches then he finally lifts his head — green-gold eyes locking onto Pierre’s. “You would not,” Charles repeats, taking care to enunciate each word. “Oh?” Pierre asks, snide, because how dare Charles gamble so casually with his own health? “Taken a lot of Alpha cocks up the ass then, have you? A regular pro at it?”

Indomitable by Anonymous (nsfw, chussy)

Charles Leclerc was maybe one of the biggest pop stars in the world until he burned it all down. One year of sobriety means that the label wants their album - an album he can't write - and the answer might just reside inside his not quite ex-boyfriend that is a fantastic song writer and producer.

first bloom by tiredtiredsharl (nsfw)

charles wakes up in the middle of the night. he gets an idea, then gets twisted in knots about it. good thing pierre is always willing to try anything charles suggests.

wake up slow (we don't need to go outside) by Anonymous (nsfw, chussy)

“Five minutes. After five minutes.” Charles drags his tongue flat up the length of Pierre’s weeping cunt. “Or ten.” He tenses his tongue into a point. Dips inside. “Then we will sleep.”

sleep aid by Anonymous (nsfw, pierrussy)

Charles doesn’t plan to sleep with Pierre over the summer break, but it happens nonetheless.

worth it just to know by fiveandnocents (nsfw)

or… what if the world was suddenly plunged into omegaverse and everyone started presenting at once.

sudden changes by ginnydear (nsfw)

a letter, a proposition, a phone call.

you know i'm down seven days of the week by pipwrites (nsfw)

Pierre has dedicated his life to this singular thing and The Society is about to write his name next to the few other scientists who were patient like him - who were dedicated like him. The names of the people that inspired him, the stories of men who had been sailing or mountaineering. Who lived in tiny cabins like he did. Pierre will be one of them. “Come on, Leo.” He calls to Leo, trying to keep it from bursting out of his chest - the feeling of accomplishment - as he takes off in a jog for the treeline. “Let us make history.” Or, Charles falls and Pierre finds him.

if you'll be my star by tiredtiredsharl

Pierre loses a bet and has to shave, and it's odd, but Charles could live with that. Who seem to not be able to is their daughter, who doesn't recognise her favourite papa without a beard.

daddy's best friend by duquesademiel

Charles’ heat has been regular since the day he first presented. He has it systematically tracked and, other than Pierre, he would consider it the most dependable thing in his life. Sauber knows his cycle because Charles saw no point in hiding it from them and he knows that it is very likely that it has been shared with the FIA as well because races are scheduled neatly around the weekends that he is required to lock himself in his room and fuck himself on a fake knot until he passes out from exhaustion or dehydration or both. It is, ultimately, something that doesn’t affect his racing career at all. And then, well, Max Verstappen has his first heat.

consequences of assumption by fiveandnocents (nsfw)

THANK YOU EVERYONE FOR BEING GENIUSES THIS YEAR!!!! it has been a joy to read such incredible content xoxoxox

[hannahbarberra162]

Who do you think is meaner in bed, Marco or Izo? I think lots of people would (ignorantly) assume he'd be a sub because he's feminine only to get a shock when he flips things on them, but while I think he's a good dom I personally don't see him as being a particularly mean one. I think he'd be good at staying calm and collected and making you feel reeaally embarrassed about how easily you lose composure by comparison. Marco has so much responsibility and steam to blow off I can see it. Division commander, head doctor, has to bully the strongest man in the world into taking his meds, he's gotta take the stress out on someone. Heehee idk

It's so funny you asked this - I was already writing another Mean Marco drabble! I completely agree with you. I think Marco is very tightly wound under that calm facade. He's a doctor dealing with 997 idiots (excluding Izou and Deuce), 1 Portgas D. Ace (he's in his own category), and the Captain is a stubborn old man who won't take his pills.

I do think Izou could come off as a little mean but I agree that he mostly keeps his wits about him. I could see Izou drinking tea and watching while you ride the Sybian, noting the different sounds you make and how they differ from other forms of stimulation. Or Izou teasing you endlessly as you're bound to his bedframe spread eagle, never quite touching where you need him to, agreeing with you that yes, it is quite difficult. And no, he's not going to stop until he's done.

But Marco.

Oh, Marco.

NSFW Drabble, Marco x F!Reader , ~1k (oops), mean but consensual Marco

Stress Ball

“Marco, is - oh, I guess you’re in here alone then,” Tate said, poking her head in Marco’s office. The First Division Commander smiled as he picked his head up from some reports, his red glasses resting on the end of his nose.

“Just me yoi,” he confirmed, setting down the quill he’d been using for note taking. 

“OK, no worries. But are you alright? You looked really worked up before," Tate asked, searching Marco’s face for answers.

“Ah, you know how it is. Too many patients, not enough doctors and nurses,” Marco said with an easy smile. Tate nodded and gave a knowing laugh.

“Yeah, trust me I get it. I just think you have it harder than anyone else on board. You’re in charge of our division, you’re responsible for keeping everyone safe, you’re the primary doctor for the crew, you’re basically the First Mate, and you have to give that stubborn old man all his medicine. If I was you I would have cracked a long time ago. Speaking of, I’ve been looking for - oh, nevermind. Hope you find some kind of stress relief - I can cover for you in a bit if you want to go flying?” Tate offered her longtime friend.

“I appreciate it but there’s no need yoi. I’m buried up to my neck in paperwork and besides, I found a way to blow off some steam earlier. I’m feeling pretty good right now,” Marco said, picking up his quill once more. Tate nodded and smiled, already turning to leave the office.

“Sounds great boss…I’ll go look for her in the baths then, she said she was stressed earlier…” Tate said mostly to herself, her voice getting quieter the further down the hall she went from Marco’s office. He smiled to himself then continued to write, turning the pages slowly and straightening them as needed. After about half an hour, he heard some sounds coming from the slim coat closet set in the adjacent wall. Standing up, he stretched his arms over his head, his toned stomach peeking through as his shirt rode up. Striding over to the closet, he opened the door and enjoyed the sight before his eyes.

You were inside, head moving towards the movement of air. You couldn’t see or hear him, the blindfold and headphones he’d put on you didn’t allow for any light or sound. You were shifting around, trying to find a comfortable position but Marco had ensured there wasn’t one. You were sitting on your poor red bottom on the floor of the closet, your wrists bound to your crossed ankles. The two vibrators that Marco had placed in your holes were still going but at a low hum, your slick fluids dripping down your thighs and into a small puddle on the floor. Marco squatted down next to you, causing you to search once again for the source of the movement. 

The large spider gag prevented you from calling out to him but the drool leaking from your mouth joined the rest of the slick mess you’d been making. He noted that your chest and face were still covered in his cum from earlier as he ran his thumb through the fluids. Placing his coated thumb in your open mouth, your tongue roved over the digit and sucked as much as you could. Pleased, Marco removed your headphones, making your head jerk in his direction.

“You’re being too loud yoi. I can hear you moving around all the way from my desk,” Marco cooed into your ear. He palmed your breasts in his hands, rolling your already pert nipples in his fingers. After only a few moments of pinching and teasing you were panting and straining against the bindings he’d lovingly put on your hours before but making as little noise as you could.

“You wouldn’t want anyone to find you like this, would you yoi? You shook your head rapidly while a blush rose in your cheeks.

“Then you need to be quieter, hm? Let’s see if you can be a good little thing for me,” Marco said affectionately, petting your hair. Reaching into his pocket he removed a heavy chain with teeth clamps on either end. Putting his hand on your back for support, he dipped his head low and nipped and kissed your breast, leaving a trail of hickeys until he reached your nipple. Sucking hard, he laved his tongue over the sensitive bud until your chest was heaving. Pulling away his head with an audible pop, he quickly placed the clamp on your nipple. You whined softly as he repeated the process with your other nipple until both were clamped between the teeth of the metal binding.

“Ah ah. Not so loud or I’ll have to leave the door open yoi. You don’t want the rest of the crew to see how needy you are do you? I think another 30 minutes here would help us both, hm? I’m feeling relaxed already and I’m sure you are too,” Marco said with a grin, pulling on the chain gently. You pushed your chest up to alleviate the pain from the clamps but that caused the large plug in your ass to be ground in further. Marco looked you over, putting his index and middle finger into your fist. 

“Once for green, twice for yellow, three times for red,” he said softly, waiting for your response. You gave him two hard squeezes and he kissed your cheek.

“I felt yellow. Again, just to make sure I got the right one. Once for green, twice for yellow, three times for red,” he repeated. Just as before you squeezed his fingers twice, leaving no room for error. 

 “Doing so well, Doveling, just a little more,” he whispered into your ear. He replaced the headphones, kissed the top of your head and shut the door to the closet. Humming happily he sat down at his desk to finish the last of his paperwork. He’d be done soon and he’d make you come around his cock until you cried for him to stop. That would alleviate your stress, he thought with a grin.

[judesmoonbeauty]

Jude's Twisted Tale Dark IF : SE & Main Story Mini Lore Dissection

Just a brief post about the event lore and how it was executed in his route. I could write about a ton of things I noticed, but I'll spare you. I've selected a few main points that I think are important. This will contain major route spoilers, so please move on if you don't want to be spoiled. As always, this is just my opinion regarding how the lore was applied, all viewpoints are valid.

So, Jude's story was quite important for route lore, and if you missed it then I'm sure you'll be able to find it on YT.

So, how does it correlate regarding his route?

Children •ʚଓ Event Lore: Jude and Kate met in the past and he made a promise to her. Main story: There are two children and a promise is made, but Kate is not that child.

Research •ʚଓ Event Lore: Jude is researching a way to cure Kate's illness. Main Story: Jude is researching aerospace engineering & developing a rocket ship capable to flying to the moon.

The Promise •ʚଓ Event Lore: A promise he made to Kate a long time ago to save her from death. Main Story: A promise he made to someone other than Kate to take them to the moon.

Time •ʚଓ Event Lore: Time is not impossible to turn back. Time magic exists. Past, present and future are all tangled together, connecting countless words. Time marches on mercilessly as Kate tries to break her curse

Main Story: Time is not able to be turned back. Time magic/travel doesn't exist, Jude can't go back to retrieve what he's lost. Time travel may not exist, but space travel is a possibility, which would connect Jude to another world once he reaches the moon. Time marches on mercilessly for Jude as he tries to fulfill his promise to the one he made it to.

Fairies •ʚଓ Event Lore: Fairies are rare creatures with outstanding abilities that are often the source of international conflicts. They are targeted, and their deaths give an opposing country military advantage. Fairies can easily overthrow a government with power, and the fairies who refuse to join the military are imprisoned and killed.

Main Story: Obviously, his curse is the 13th fairy, but Jude is extremely intelligent and highly skilled in many things, and because of the cycle of hatred that he voluntarily enters in, he is often targeted 24/7. With the knowledge that Jude possesses in terms of his research in aerospace engineering, he has very lethal technology in his hands. Although his intentions are pure and endearing rather than sinister, a coalition between three groups work against Jude after he repeatedly refuses to give up his research. He is imprisoned and tortured by the military, waiting to be killed.

Death •ʚଓ Event Lore: Jude the fairy is okay with dying over a promise, feeling he's lived long enough. He is able to save Kate from death as he promised.

Main Story: While a part of Jude was determined to live in spite of the world for the longest time, he is exhausted and really just wants to give up. Even his promise - the only thing he has left - isn't enough of an anchor for him anymore. The one whom he promised to protect died as he was unable to save them.

Overall, I loved Jude's SE route. It's very fairytale-like, very sweet, funny in some areas, devastating and romantic to me. The hole I felt in my heart over the overwhelming feelings of loss they both felt in bitter end...it's so relatable. I mean we've all most likely lost someone in our lives, and haven't been quite the same haven't we?

The way they took his route lore and twisted it to fit his whacky tale in the event is superb! And to me it just goes to show how far out the main stories are actually planned and written. To me that feels like excellent planning and execution. Some may feel differently and that's okay, but this is my take on it.

To be frank, I think that all the stories in the Twisted Tale series so far are wonderful in their own way......I really like the name Dark IF actually. Twisted Tale sounds weird to me.

Can't wait for the next set of Dark IF Tales!

[greenwitchfromthewoods]

𝒎𝒚 𝒇𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 (i guess)

okay. let's be honest. i have a huge problem with imposter syndrome, for years. no matter what i do and what the results are - my inner critic has her hands full. but this little beast @gothcsz tagged me in something i've been following for a while now and i finally came out from under the blanket.

i started writing as a kid. it allowed me to escape from reality. sometimes i wrote more, and sometimes i had a few years off (yes, i'm old!). now i'm back here.

am i proud of myself? sometimes. i've gotten used to the fact that what i like doesn't always please my readers. but i try to develop, learn new things and i love it when we meet somewhere halfway. i wish i could be more open to you, but it's fucking hard.

however i appreciate every second you spent reading what i write, thank you for every comment, every remark, every feedback. it's like a sign from the universe that there is life on the other side and i'm not crazy. ♥️

my favourite fanfics/oneshots from this year:

✤ General Marcus Acacius

nymph (series) if i am happy with something it is this. Marcus Acacius and Nymph. i like writing these two characters. they remind me of greek and roman myths that i read as a child. but despite everything there are times when it is hard for me to write it.

the favourite of gods (oneshot) I have no explanation for this. I was carried away by the moment when I wrote it. Am I the only one who is into the mythological, fairy-tale, mystical part of antiquity? Yes, I am bad at it. But I wrote it. And I like it.

✤ Joel Miller

the anniversary (oneshot) I never thought that something I experienced (I mean forgetting our anniversary, not sex with Joel) would be read with interest. I think I like it, although I sometimes get sad when I see a new reaction to this story in my notifications

broken trust [part 1][part 2][part 3][part 4][part 5] [epilogue] (series) this is something long that i didn't think i'd finish writing. i'm proud of it. i really like when female characters are independent and strong. that's how i wanted her to be seen. i know it's not perfect, but there are a few moments in there that i really like and i've been working on them for a long time.

short stories from life. (short stories) here I wanted to try something new, something between a series and oneshots. because sometimes there's an idea in your head, but you don't want to create a whole long story for it. did I succeed? it's an experiment. I'm testing it on myself. you're safe.

✤ Javi Gutierrez

inhale, exhale (oneshot) I know that many people who read this identified with it. Me too. I wrote with the thought - I wish there was someone next to me in moments like these, who would help me get through this. do I have tears in my eyes right now? yes, and I'm not ashamed of it. situations like this suck. (tw: panic attacks)

✤Javier Peña

you in my eyes [1][2] I started this recently, but I have great pleasure writing it. why did I put it here? because I like it. i can write this story for myself, that's okay too. It's something new for me, something that allows me to think differently.

and...

💔 a few ways to break your heart 💔 [masterlist]

❤️‍ broken hearts seek redemption ❤️‍ [ masterlist]

this really got to me. really. there are characters for whom angst is easy to write, and there are those for whom your heart breaks when you have to write something bad. I approach what I write quite personally, I know I shouldn't. breaking a heart was relatively easy, mending it - no. I survived it, and so did they.

I read these writers

People I follow, love, adore, and wish I could support every day because they're amazing, beautiful, talented, authentic, empathetic, open-minded, creative, and so much more. ♥️

@gothcsz @sanarsi @stylesispunk @mothandpidgeon @morallyinept @punkshort @toomanystoriessolittletime @604to647 @oonajaeadira @iamasaddie @auteurdelabre @milla-frenchy @alwayslurkinginthebackground @javierpena-inatacvest @notjustjavierpena @theetherealbloom @baronessvonglitter @insomniamamma @hiddenzev @joelmillerisapunk

If any of you would like to praise yourself, please do so.

PS. did I do it right?

[silver-bees]

An excerpt of a letter written to Sherlock Holmes by Dr. John Watson that was left out of his public account of the adventure of the hound of the Baskervilles 

We had arrived back at the house after our fruitless search for the convict and I was nearly ready to retire when Sir Henry called out to me, his voice hoarse. “Watson, might you sit up with me for the night?” He seemed scared, not at all like the brazen man I had first met at Baker Street. My heart softened at his request, I sat back down without a word and we both gazed into the fire for a few minutes. Finally his voice broke through the still drawing room air. 

“I don’t know what to think. I was certain the curse was merely some old fairy story. I still half believe that, or maybe I just want to believe it, but that sound we heard…it was unmistakable.” “Stapleton said it may be the call of a rare bird” I replied but even to myself it sounded empty. As though either of us, or anyone else for that matter, could have been mistaken as to what that sound really was. “Or maybe some shepherd’s dog that got loose on the moor.” I continued, trying my best to sound unconcerned. “I suppose, though it sounded rather large for a sheepdog did it not?” He glanced over to me and I could see the terror glinting in his eyes. I put a firm hand on his shoulder. 

“Whatever it is, I’m here. I won’t let it get you without a fight” I reassured. I kept my voice steady for him, but truth be told I felt nearly as shaken as he looked. Sir Henry took a deep, shuddering breath and a rough laugh burst from his throat as though against his will. “I’d much rather you not let it get me at all!” he exclaimed with a hint of his former bravado, “You know, I do feel safer with you by my side. I’ve been reading some of your accounts of your adventures with Holmes.” “Have you?” I asked with some little surprise.

“Stapleton lent them to me, apparently he quite enjoys them as well. I must say, you’re quite a writer. I’ve never been one for reading all that much but your accounts are most entertaining” I felt pride well in my chest at his words.

“Well, perhaps someday ‘the curse of the baskervilles’ will be added to their number” “It would be an honor,” he chuckled. 

We sat there for a few hours, the heat of the fire and some excellent brandy (courtesy of the late Sir Charles’ cellar) bringing the color back to his cheeks. Finally he brought the subject back around to my writing.

“You know Watson, I think you sell yourself short. In all your accounts you seem to rarely speak of your own achievements.” “Holmes said something similar to me on the morning your case was brought to us, though in his case I feel it was a little backhanded.”

“I mean it, Watson. You spend so many words detailing Holmes’ achievements and, while they do indeed seem marvelous, it leaves little room for praise of your own kindness. I would never have guessed from the way you write the sort of reassurance your company provides.” 

I must admit I blushed quite a lot at that. I admired Sir Henry and to hear such words from him made me feel things I simply don’t have words for. 

“I fear you exaggerate for the sake of my ego, my dear fellow” I deflected. 

“Certainly not! I appreciate Holmes taking my case, but to have you by my side is invaluable. I truly don’t know what I’d have done tonight when I heard that ghostly howl if you were not there to steady my nerves.” “Well, I certainly appreciate you saying that.” 

He looked at me for a long moment, the reflection of the fire dancing in his eyes and his brow furrowed in contemplation. 

“Watson-” he started suddenly

“John,” I gently corrected, “We’re close enough to drop the formality” He nodded curtly. 

“John, if you do write an account of our time together, might I ask you to leave something out? Can you keep a secret, I mean?”

Of course I was hesitant to reply. I felt torn between my dedication to the details of the case and to keeping my dear friend’s privacy. 

“If it relates to-” “It doesn’t,” he assured me, “it is a strictly personal matter” “Then the public will never hear of it”

“Well, you know that I’m a bachelor…” he began with some hesitation. I was certain he was about to tell me he had some affection for Miss Stapleton. He did not. “I may always be a bachelor,” he continued, “I have little interest in women really” “That’s not so strange,” I reassured him, “Holmes has no interest in women either. I’ve known a few men who went for years having little interest in women until they met someone in particular and became enamoured.” “It’s not that I have no interests whatsoever,” he corrected, seeming to struggle for words, “I am Interested in someone, but I fear I am not suited for marriage with the person I am interested in” I couldn’t help but scoff. “You’re a baronette, my dear friend, what woman could possibly object to your place in society?” “That’s not exactly what I meant. I mean that he isn’t a woman” he said a bit gruffly. I understood suddenly why he had been so cagey about it and ensured that I wouldn’t publicize his secret. I nodded, letting him know that I caught his meaning while I formulated what to say in response. “I see. Well in that case, I should inform you that while I do have some interest in women, I have an equal interest in men.” I could see his eyes go wide in the dying light of the fire. It seemed I had taken him by surprise. 

“Well then, a fellow bachelor! What a pleasant surprise. Not that I have any right to ask, but are you and Holmes…?” He left the question open.

“Not exactly. I’ve considered it, but he never returned my feelings. He tells me he has no romantic inclination whatsoever.” Sir Henry seemed a little disappointed and I suspected I knew the cause. “But I am past those feelings. I moved on once I realized they weren’t returned.” 

“Have you anyone on your mind presently?” he asked and I fancy I heard some hope in his voice. 

“I believe so, yes, and I have reason to suspect I’m on his mind as well.” I gave him a meaningful glance. 

We didn’t say anything more. We didn’t need to say anything. He put his hand in mine and we watched the last embers of the fire burn out as dawn broke over the moor. 

Dear Sherlock Holmes fanfic write, please, please PLEASE One of you write a fanfic about Watson and Sir Henry (the hound of the baskervilles). I've been shipping them since I've seen the granade episode. THEY HAVE CHEMISTRY I PROMISE JUST TRY WRITING THE FANFIC (please?)

[dragonfly0808]

Hiatus

So… this is a post I’ve been debating with myself these past 2/3 weeks on whether to make or not.

Some of yall may have noticed that I’ve been taking quite a few breaks from s4 and I have unfortunately just finally allowed myself to acknowledge that I’ve hit a bit of a writing block when it comes to my Winx Club rewrite.

I’ve had a few frustrations during s4 (even though I’ve managed to keep my writing up to my own personal standards, it’s been very difficult) and- despite being halfway through the season, unlike past seasons I still have no idea what I’m going to do with s5 and it’s just been getting to me.

And now I am forced to accept that if I keep forcing myself to churn out chapters and stressing out over keeping you all waiting until I’m satisfied with every chapter, the only thing I’ll do is kill my creativity and my love for this rewrite.

I’ve been working on this rewrite for nearly 3 years and it kinda low-key shames me to say that I am officially placing it on hiatus.

To me ‘taking a break’ and ‘hiatus’ are 2 completely different things, I know I’ve taken breaks before but I always had some vague idea of when I’d return but this time… I just don’t know.

I have been working on my Original Novel and works for other fandoms that have just been filling me with inspiration in a way I haven't been able to feel with Winx Club for a bit now.

I hope I have built up enough trust over these past 3 years for you all to believe me when I say that I will be back. I am not the type to leave things unfinished, especially a story that means so much to me and that I am so very proud of and that has helped me grow so much as a writer and has helped me get through some difficult times and express certain emotions and grief in a way I never could’ve if I hadn’t dived into this 3 long years ago.

I was really hoping to post chapters for Xmas and New Years as I have past years but I just can’t- HOWEVER, on January 28th, the third anniversary of Veiled Wings and Shattered Panoramas, I will post… something. I don’t know if it will be a chapter or not but I will do something for the anniversary.

If you wanna know what I’ll be up to; I will be working on my Original Novel since I have finally landed on exactly what idea I want to work on. I will also be working on 2 projects, one for ATLA (Zutara post-canon self-indulgent thingy) and another one that I honestly don’t know if I’ll go through with since it’d be a pretty big project and I’m still thinking about how I’d go about it, but that I am very inspired and excited about.

So yeah, thank you all for your never ending support and- again, I WILL BE BACK, this is not an abandonment of the rewrite, it’s just me having to prioritize my mental health and protect both my love for writing and my love for the rewrite. I’ll be going through my inbox this next week and answer a bunch of stuff that I just haven’t really looked through in a while.

Thank you so much for understanding and for your support. I hope you will wait for the return of the rewrite and that maybe you will give my other projects a chance when I post them. I will be posting a lot of my inner thoughts on the rewrite and my other projects chapters + thoughts on my Ko-fi if you wanna check that out.

I wish you all Happy Holidays!

With eternal love and gratitude,

Yours Truly, Dragonfly

[the---hermit]

21|12|2024

So I haven't posted an update in a while. I have been struggling quite a bit with staying focused and low energy, in addition to getting a cold, which means that I am way behind schedule with my studying. This morning I managed to finally finish reading and underlining the last book for my political institutions exam, but I still have a couple of chapters I need to turn into written notes, and honestly I don't know how to approach this, because I really wanted to take the whole next week to just rest, but also I want to only have to review things after my holiday break. So I really don't know how to deal with things, I might try to finish the notes on Monday and then take a week off. Surely on Monday I will do the tiniest bit of planning just so I know what to expect from my time after the holidays. Because if I do not have a clear picture I know I won't be able to fully relax. I will also have to send a couple of emails and check stuff to subscribe to my exams, but that will be problem for future me. Music has truly been my one saviour in the past few weeks, I don't know what I'd do without it. The way it changes my mood and helps me avoid going into overthinking spirals is pure magic.

Today's productivity:

read first thing in the morning

finished reading and underlining Governo by Paolo Colombo (This was a short but very dense non fiction book on the history and concept of government. It focused a lot on the language, which I didn't expect but found very interesting. As expected the part dealing with more contemporary periods were the ones I struggled with the most. It was definitely well made, but I absolutely despise political history so I kind of struggled at the end. But that is totally a personal thing, I have to admit this is the second book I read in this series focused on political concepts and they are both very well made and curated. The are very dense indeed, but they are clearly made so that anyone can get what they are talking about and the way they both approached the concepts they were analizing in an historical way was really cool since usually when talking about politics people focus on the last century only.)

continued writing notes for the book mentioned above

finished working on a test I have to turn in next week

duolingo

📖: Iliad by Homer, Governo by Paolo Colombo

[hotchreids-girl]

Would you kiss me [S.R]

Summary : A heated hurtful argument moment with Spencer Reid turns into being in the interrogation room alone with him .

Paring: Spencer Reid ! Fem!BAU!reader

Genre: angst/hurt/comfort

Content warning: heated hurtful argument both never been kissed before.

Word count 1K

Author notes this is part of the Teddy-ber event by @angellsell So I’m very nervous and scared to enter this event but I like a challenge and I love Spencer Reid I hope you love this and it lives up to your expectations but if you can see how nervous i am eek I did my best to proof read this was fun I’m just nervous since I’m newbie at fan fiction

I’ve always wanted to be the one in the integration room with Spencer Reid .

The song while writing this

You had been a part of the BAU for a few years now, and that is how long you've known Dr. Spencer Reid—the brilliant genius with striking brown eyes, tall and slightly awkward in his own charming way. His mind worked at lightning speed, unfurling the intricacies of human behavior in a way that left you in awe. He was handsome in a way he was completely unaware of, which only added to his appeal. You admired him, not just for his intellect but for his kindness, humor, and the way he made you feel understood.

But then there was the incident that changed everything. You were deep in the middle of a case where the tension was palpable, and emotions ran high. In the heat of the moment, something in the air snapped. You found yourself embroiled in a heated argument with Spencer—his voice elevated as he expressed his frustration. “you’re not thinking this through! You’re putting everyone at risk!” His words felt like a stab to your heart, especially when he addressed you by your full name.

“Why can’t you just trust me?” you yelled back, your voice shaky with anger and hurt. It was the first time you had seen this side of Reid, and it made your stomach twist painfully. After a few more back-and-forth exchanges, you rushed away from him, needing space to gather your thoughts. The only place you could think of was the interrogation room—a place that usually breathed tension, but right now felt like the only sanctuary.

As you stepped inside and closed the door, reality struck. Tears started to roll down your cheeks, a mix of frustration and a feeling of deep sadness that you couldn’t quite articulate. You sank into one of the chairs, burying your face in your hands. It felt like a lifetime before you heard the soft knock on the door.

Hey can I come in please? It was Spencer’s voice. Panic flooded your veins. No you thought to yourself How did he find you? —You weren’t ready to see him , “You took a deep breath, trying to gather yourself, but your heart was racing. When he opened the door, his eyes widened at the sight of your tears. Without hesitating, he stepped into the room and came closer to you.

“Hey,” he said softly, his voice laced with concern. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to—” He hesitated as he reached out, gently wiping away the tears that continued to fall. His touch was electric, sending a shiver down your spine. You pulled away, desperation clawing at your insides as you tried to cool your swirling emotions.

“Spencer,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “Just give me a moment.” You sat back in the chair, heart racing, trying to find the words to fix the pieces of this fragile moment. Silence settled between you, heavy and loaded.

“Say something, please,” Spencer urged after a moment, his eyes searching yours. You looked up at him, and for the first time, you could see how vulnerable he was, an echo of the frustration that had just transpired.

“I…I never thought you would go off like that on me,” you finally managed to say, your voice trembling slightly. There was a hurt behind your words that whispered of something deeper than mere disagreement.

“I know. Me neither,” Spencer replied, his brow furrowed with regret. “I just—”

“Spence,” you interrupted, wanting to steer the conversation toward lighter waters, “can I ask you something?”

“Of course,” he replied, shifting in his seat, his posture indicating a mix of curiosity and nervous energy.

You bit your lower lip, suddenly unsure about this question, feeling the complexity of the moment weigh on your heart. “What do you think of me?”

He shifted again, clearly searching for the right words. “Well, you’re brilliant and kind and… and you care deeply about people. Honestly, I admire you more than you know,” he admitted, a soft blush creeping onto his cheeks.

Your heart swelled at his words, but an unexpected question bubbled to the surface. “Spencer, have you ever been kissed before?”

His eyes widened in surprise. “Um, no,” he said, almost sheepishly. “Have you?”

“No,” you replied, your voice barely a whisper as your heart raced in anticipation of where this conversation might lead.

He looked at you, uncertainty mixing with something else—maybe curiosity or a powerful yearning.

“So… could you, I mean, would you kiss me?” The words tumbled out of your mouth before you could stop them, vulnerability and hope dripping from your voice.

Spencer’s gaze held yours, and for a long moment, the world around you faded away. “ are you serious?”

You nodded, heart pounding. The space between you felt electric, every unsaid word crackling in the air. “I think… I think I want to.”

The moment seemed to stretch on forever as his expression shifted, something akin to disbelief mingling with a spark of excitement shining in his eyes. “I want to too,” he breathed.

Tentatively, he leaned closer, the air thick with anticipation and all the tension that had built up between you two. Your instincts kicked in, and you closed the gap, your lips meeting softly in a hesitant kiss. It felt like time stood still, a mixture of everything you both had kept bottled inside. His lips were warm against yours, exploring gently yet passionately, as if both of you were discovering something new and exhilarating.

When you finally pulled away, both of you were breathless, eyes locked.

“ Wow Spencer says I never thought it could feel this incredible your heart racing at his words .

With your fingers tanged up , moving in slow motion, you lean in on his chest putting your head on his chest Spence I’m not sure what this means if it even means anything but can we just stay here a moment longer please? Yes he said softly.

[factorialsotherfandoms]

too tired to write a new thing like I wanted to, please take Arthur and Rubens set late in episode 3 I finished off. AO3 will be tomorrow or even later.

It is still dark when Arthur wakes up, and at first he is not sure why. Dante is a heavy weight against him, while Balu continues to babble nonsense in his sleep. Carina is curled up on the more comfortable of the three chairs, hair fluttering slightly with her breath.

Rubens-

Rubens is missing.

Arthur does not pretend that that is what woke him up - Balu is the obvious suspect - but…

Rubens is probably just grabbing some water, or using the bathroom, or maybe even taking a godforsaken hour of the morning shower so he gets first dibs on the hot water. All of these are perfectly normal, harmless, even sensible reasons for him not to be in the room.

But Arthur… Arthur thinks in needles and claws and bloody corpses, in bleeding wounds and missing friends. Clarissa had never joined them, but for Rubens to have left?

Arthur is not going to sleep until he is back, not like this, not when Senhor Veríssimo entrusted the safety of this group to him.

He gives it a few minutes, and Rubens does not reappear. It gives the anxiety time to convince Arthur that it is rational, especially when…

Something happened between Rubens and Clarissa, the two members not accounted for. Something Arthur could not quite read between the lines of, and something that /hurt/. She doesn't mean to hurt people, Arthur is sure of that, but Rubens doesn't know her, and with an already fragile mental state…

Clarissa is most likely keeping her distance from the group, listening for trouble if she even manages to rest at all.

But, if she has taken issue with his presence again…

It is that dread which moves Arthur. He pushes Dante aside, and gets up. He did manage to lose his shirt last night, but his trousers could do with being swapped out.

No matter, he has someone to find.

He quickly checks over the group nearby - all still there, all still breathing - before he searches.

Not the bathroom, not the kitchen, not the gates with Clarissa and not returned to their room. Arthur's worry is just pitching towards hysteria when he finds him, sat on the floor of the garage and staring at a washing machine.

One that is turned on.

"Rubens?"

Arthur tries to ask softly, but it atill makes him jump; Rubens startles, grabbing at his chest and leaning away. It takes him a moment to calm down, then he looks over. He tilts his head in acknowledgement, but does not speak.

"You okay?"

Rubens shrugs, and turns back to the washing machine. Only once he is firmly watching the drum does he reply "I'm okay."

Arthur could leave now; he knows where everyone is, and he knows that they are safe.

But that did not even sound like an attempt at a convincing lie.

And there is just /something/ about this scene…

He cannot do it, not when he thinks Rubens is must giving him a rote answer, not a true one.

Instead of returning to bed, Arthur comes closer. He sits down next to Rubens to find not one but two washing machines turned on. One is large and top opening and smells strongly of bleach, while the other is smaller, front opening, and Rubens is watching the colours spin.

It is yellow, and black, and it does not take much to guess just why Rubens' current outfit is so much cleaner.

"What are you doing?" Arthur pretends to be interested, just to try and work out what is going on.

"Laundry," Rubens looks at him like he is stupid.

"I can see that, but…" how does Arthur ends this tactfully, but also in a way which Veríssimo would approve of. "What are you washing?"

"Mine," Rubens points to the smaller washer, then after a moment the larger one. "Infirmary."

"… Ah." Maybe not Arthur's first choice of things to clean while restless, but the infirmary had been covered in blood. It makes sense, though, even if Rubens is a self-taught medic; Arthur does not envy him trying to treat Balu on a dirty bed, and with equipment taken from blood-splattered boxes. "Hopefully we won't need it again…"

Balu had a huge chunk of his face ripped off. If it had been anyone but Balu in it's line of fire…

Rubens makes a small, doubtful noise; experience would have Arthur agree with him.

The only reason you don't need the infirmary, in their line of work, is if everyone who was injured did not make it back alive.

And the Leones keep their fridges on a different floor.

There's nothing good that Arthur can really say to that; he stays next to Rubens, also turning to watch the washing machine. He waits for Rubens to say something, though he is rapidly learning that it is a fool's errand.

Someone who will not start a conversation makes this difficult, but nothing Arthur has not dealt with before.

One of his closest friends was always much the same.

…

It's only Rubens' second mission without his usual partner, likely following the death itself - a death that for Rubens, as the medic… Arthur can't conceptualise it.

Not really.

To think about the quiet man beside him trying to hold a long-term teammate's body together, only for them to die beneath him…

It has to have been the Johnny that Clarissa mentioned. It cannot have been long ago he died - far more recently than Clarissa and he lost their families.

… The idea of this mission, so close to something like that, then to have it thrown in his face when he tries to help…

Arthur feels a little bit sick.

"About what Clarissa said," Arthur sees Rubens twitch and… And he wishes that isn't what this was. "She's just upset. Don't take it to heart, yeah? I was hoping a trip would help her heal a bit, but with this going on…"

Rubens does not acknowledge that, but he does turn to face Arthur.

"It will be okay," Arthur lies. "Even if we cannot see it, even if we do not live to see it… it will be okay in the end."

What end? He doesn't know. An end. After Kian, after all this, when whoever remains alive can sleep in their beds.

Rubens sighs, and turns back to the washing machine. It looks a bit like he shakes his head, but Arthur is not sure.

They sit a while longer. The spinning pauses for the drum to once again fill with water, drain, and begin again.

Slowly, slowly Arthur feels a cautious weight on his arm. Rubens only presses a little weight into Arthur's side, but it is noticeable.

Not wanting to scare Rubens off, Arthur makes sure to stay very still.

"Arthur?" Rubens' voice is quiet, barely audible with two washers spinning ever on.

"Yes?"

"… too loud."

Here? Why doesn't he-?

Oh, right, no Rubens' doesn't mean here.

He means back where they are sleeping. Explaining why he is out here, in a way Arthur struggles to even pretend to believe.

"Balu is kind of noisy," Arthur agrees. "There's probably some actual bedrooms, if you want somewhere else to sleep."

Rubens pauses, then shakes his head. "It's fine."

"Rubens-"

"It's fine," he says, then gestures to the washing machines. "Dry, then sleep."

Both machines have a while left on their wash cycles. Something still feels off about Rubens, and Arthur… he's known people who have felt off in similar ways before. It is not a sensation that makes him feel comfortable leaving him alone.

Not when Rubens is now fully leant on Arthur's arm.

"I'll wait with you," Arthur offers. "Once I'm up, I don't fall asleep."

Another lie, but if Rubens is half as socially anxious as Kaiser…

Quiet, again, for another few cycles.

And then, more quietly, only just caught in the brief second where the washer changes direction… "I want Johnny."

Arthur cannot sit impassive any more; he frees his arm from Rubens, only to tuck it around his shoulder and drag him close.

"I'm sorry," Arthur says, of the death of a man he never met. "I-… I'm sorry, for whatever had you end up with us."

Rubens doesn't reply, but he doesn't pull away either.

And so silently they sit, watching the washing machine continue to spin.