#but you can always request fics or send prompts

[glow-worms-are-believers]

Tim Drake: Ugly Duckling (dp x dc)

So this is the last day of pride month, and so also the last day of me trying to write as many LGBTQ+ canon dc characters. It’s been fun (and I got to read a whole bunch of comics which was actually much more fun than the first time I’d tried to read those!!)

Now even though this is the end of June, feel free to send an ask if you want me to write a blurb with any character. I make no promises, but I will very much try! (It might take a while especially if I’m in a Tumblr hibernation phase.)

Anyways, for the last day of pride month I wanted to do Tim Drake coz he’s dc’s main “it” gay girl. I’ve been working on this Dead Tired fic for ages, based on the post about Tim getting turned into a swan and meeting Danny, who as a prince has to give him a kiss to change him back (I can’t find the prompt but it was hilarious so this was my take on it).

Here’s the beginning of the fic:

Red Robin was on patrol duty, while Batman and Robin were following a lead on possible joker safehouses. All in all, It was a pretty quiet night with only two muggings, both low-energy as both perpetrator ran away as soon as a bat-shaped shadow moved. 

So Red Robin had spent most of the night chatting with Babs. He was grappling around town, as they started on the new date app they’d both found out Jason was using.

“I told him he can’t put only photos of his motorcycle but- wait I’m getting a call,” Oracle interrupted herself. Tim waited before the earpiece came to life again.

“Sorry to cut this short Red Robin, got a full-attention request from Canary. If you need anything, beep me, and Keep your coms open.”

“Bye, Oracle,” he said, and like that, Red Robin was alone once again.

 He stopped on Grand Avenue Station and just let himself take in Gotham. The city was beautiful at night, and Tim was itching for a camera. He seen hundreds of pictures of the city’s skyline but they always managed to be unique. The night sky may always be covered by dark clouds above, but Gotham had its own stars in the lights shinning on top of the skyscrapers. So lost in his thoughts, Tim was, he almost missed the soft noise that sounded behind him. The voice that sounded behind him was harder to miss.

“Wither away so late, Little Red Bird?”

Red Robin turned to see a tall woman standing half in the shadows

“Sorry, can I help you?” Answered the vigilante despite the bad feeling creeping up to him.

“I’d like to know where I can find your guardian,” the woman said, still in the shadows.

“You mean Batman?” He chanced.

The woman nodded and Tim resisted the urge to sigh.If this was another one of Bruce’s ill-advised fling, Tim was going to hack every electronic device the man had to play sex-eds on loops for at least a week.

“He’s busy at the moment.” Then feeling like he shouldn’t assume what the woman wanted Bruce for, he continued. “But if you need any help, I’ll do my best.”

The woman stepped forward, and Tim could see her better. Her face was bare, but her distinctive outfit seemed to indicate she was some kind of vigilante-slash-criminal. The outfit did, in fact, ring a bell in the back of his mind, but it was dim. Tim didn’t tense up, but he did angle his body in a way to accommodate for a better escape through grappling. She continued walking until she was within arm’s reach of Tim, towering over him. She extended a hand to lightly caress his cheek, and Tim went still at the touch.

“Such a kind Little Bird you are,” she said gently. “You know, you remind me of my daughter.” She sighed. “Oh, what pretty children you both are.”

“Thank you,” said Tim as he sidestepped out of the way. “I’m sure she’s a lovely person.”

“Oh she was,” the woman said and through his growing wariness, Tim spared a thought for the girl. “She had dark hair and the fairest skin, just like you. The most beautiful girl in the land some would even say.”

That niggling feeling came back as a feeling of familiarity poked at him once again. “You must’ve been very proud.”

The woman let out an airy laugh before saying playfully/contemplating. “mustn’t I?”

A shiver ran down his back. Alright, there was something wrong with this woman, and Tim wasn’t waiting around to find out what. Not without any information or backup.

“Well, if there’s nothing I can do for you, I really have to get going,” Tim said as he took out his grapple gun. In a second, the gun was ripped from his hand , and he was slammed to the side of the staircase leading up to the roof. He let out a gasp at the impact and his features tensed in pain. The woman hadn’t even touched him.

“Not so fast, Little Bird. We don’t want you going back to the Batman just yet.  I’m not ready to make him my Knight yet.”

“Your knight?” Tim managed to get out. He tried to move his arms, but some unseen force was pinning him in place. Shit, that meant he couldn’t reach the comm to send out a distress signal. Hopefully Babs would check in soon.

The woman smiled as she approached him once again. “What better for a Queen, than a Dark Knight?”

And just like that it clicked. “You’re the Queen of Fables.” 

“Well look at this, you’ve got the brains and the beauty,” she teased, her voice as smooth as honey.

“What do you want with Batman?” Tim asked though he could guess from previous encounters she had had with the Justice League that the villainess wanted to turn Bruce into a fairytale character of some sort. She’d done the trick on Clark, and twice on Diana, so it was probably Batman’s turn now. So, yes, Tim could guess, But the longer he kept her talking the more time he had to figure out a way out of this.

“I told you, he’ll be a Knight of the Queen,” She extended a hand and tilted Tim’s face up. “Do you know what that would make you Little Bird?” 

Most villains assumed the batclan worked like a crime family. So the family of a knight? “Nobility,” Tim guessed, unsure where this was going.

“Exactly.” She smiled, and then she moved. Tim braced for the hit.

Instead of a punch though, he only felt a tingling sensation. Cautiously, he opened his eyes, only for them to grow bigger as he took in his uniform. Or the lack thereof.

He was in something-century clothing, in some sort of frilly shirt and pants, all in white. This was worse than a punch. Then, as the thought hit him, Tim’s hands flew to his face only to come in contact with the silky fabric of a masquerade mask. He sighed in relief, and as he calmed down, he realized he was now free of the force pinning him down.

“The color is for my daughter,” the Queen said. Then, she let her head fall to the side before tracing a line across his forehead and Tim could feel something like a circlet setting down on it. “There you go. Now, it’s perfect. You could practically be siblings.” 

“No thanks.,” Tim answered.

The Queen tsked him. “That’s no way to behave Little Bird, has nobody taught you to say thank you when you receive a gift.”

“I don’t want anything from you,” Tim disagreed mildly as he took stock of his weapons. Everything was gone, including the earpiece, which meant Babs had to have been alerted and someone was en route.

The Queen frowned. “I was going to be merciful, for you guardian’s sake, but I no longer feel generous.” She raised her hand and Tim tried to roll away, but the magic beam swerved and hit him in a blinding flash of light.

When he managed to open his eyes once again, the world seemed quite a bit bigger than it had been moments before. 

“What did you do to me?” He said. Or tried to say.

Instead a strange squawk echoed and Tim took a step back in surprise. However, he lost his balance and started to fall and as he tried to catch himself with his hand, two large white wings unfolded. He dropped down, which wasn’t as far as he would’ve estimated and laid stiff. He moved his left arm, and a white wing followed suit. 

Oh, no. Oh no no no.

A grating laugh interrupted his freak out. “There you are my pretty Little Bird, all better. White really is your colour, don’t you th-“

With a loud hiss, Tim propelled himself towards the woman. Making use of his newfound beak, he pecked and bit everything he could, as he flapped his wings.

“Blasted creature- Get off! Stop it, you despicable, puny-“ 

Finally she managed to grab Tim and throw him away from her. He landed with a squawk, but managed to get himself back to his feet quickly. “You little/awful brat,” she snarled. “You’ll pay for this!”

But as the Queen threw out her hand, something rippled in the air between them and the magic beam seem to explode midway into a green vortex. Tim’s clumsy attempt at waddling away had him head straight towards it, and it was in vain that he tried to redirect the course. She and Tim made eye contact as the swan-boy tipped right into the swirling green vortex, both of their eyes wide-open in surprise.

Danny was exhausted. He was currently on week one of the full month of Royal Duties he’d promised Clockwork. Being Prince of the Infinite Realm was not all that it was cracked up to be, and that was saying a lot since he had already been expecting it to be awful. 

When Clockwork had made the request, Danny had proceeded to freak out about his new status, and then tried to abdicate. It was only the master of time reminding him of all the terrible possible candidate for the throne per rites of combat (such as Vlad) that stopped him from washing his hands of this mess. And now Danny was forced to spend one whole month of his summer vacation in the Ghost Zone to fulfill his duty as a Prince. 

He thought it would be some paperwork, maybe a battle or two, nothing too bad, but nooo. Because, of course nothing was easy, Danny had to show up at Events, and be Diplomatic. It was meeting, after meeting, after weird parties that were a mix between Medieval Banquets and Debutante balls. 

And worse of all were the marriage proposals. Danny could sorta understand, marrying into royalty was a definite plus for a lot of more powerful ghosts but when they called him a half-breed behind his back, only to smile in his face with a marriage contract in one hand and flowers in the other, that was where he drew the line. 

Plus there was also the fact that he was, like sixteen.

Suffice to say, Danny was exhausted and hiding out in Pariah Dark’s old castle as a last resort. It wasn’t his favorite place all in all, but the gardens were absolutely beautiful, which was where he was walking. He was currently headed to the hedge maze, since it was the best way to get rid of any tails he may or may not have. 

The maze was nasty if it didn’t like you, and it didn’t like anybody but Danny, and even then, it still tried to take a bite every once in a while. Despite the snaking vines and roots trying to capture anything that moved, the flowers that wailed softly when disturbed or the sharp thorns of the hedge plants themselves, it was still a beautiful place. Uniquely, the closer you got to the centre, the more colorful (and dangerous) everything got, which was why he liked it best. 

He reached the centre much quicker than the first time he tried, thanks to the maze actually helping him, and something pale caught his eye right in the middle of the open area, right next to the bench Danny loved to use. As he got closer, he realized it was a swan laying on the floor, seemingly unconscious.

“Oh no,” Danny said as he approached. “What happened to you?”

As if awakened by the sound of his voice, the swan started to shift, its wings twitching and it rose its head groggily. As soon as it clocked in Danny, it let out a surprised squawk, followed by a long hiss as it struggled to move away.

“Hey, hey, none of that, Duckie, you’re ok.” Danny raised his hands placatingly. “I don’t want to harm you, ok? I just want to make sure you’re ok.”

The hiss subsided by a bit, but that may have only be due to the swan managing to get further away.

“Sh, sh, it’s ok,” Danny repeated as he slowly inched forward. The swan stopped hissing but still observed him warily. “I don’t want to hurt you Duckie, but I do think we’d better get you out of this maze.”

Danny took another step, and this time the swan stayed still. “How about bringing you back to my rooms just for now.” The swan hissed louder at the statement. “Don’t worry Duckie, I’m not keeping you prisoner it’s just this maze has been known to eat people. And you’re too pretty to be eaten,” Danny flashed a smile at the swan which had it stare back with a gaze saying really?

“So what do you say, wanna crash at my place?” Danny asked. The swan didn’t move forward but he didn’t move away either.

“Yeah, I wouldn’t trust a guy who talks to birds either,” Danny allowed. “And the place where I’m staying is a little gloomy, so I don’t blame you, but I can’t leave you here. The maze is honestly really dangerous, especially for a nice bird is like you. “

The swan seemed to hesitate before it hesitantly made its way to Danny. Ghost animals were usually smart but the swan seemed to understand English, which made communicating that much easier. Danny smiled and opened his arms. “I can carry you.” The swan just looked at him, with what Danny would’ve thought was a deadpan stare. “It would go much faster.”

If the swan was human it probably would’ve sighed, but instead, its wings just fell a little before it waddled towards Danny and looked up as if to say ‘get on with it’.

Danny smiled and gathered the animal in his arms. “Buckle up,” he said before flying off towards the maze exit, which was accompanied by a low hiss. Making sure there was nobody there to ambush him, Danny made it back to the castle in record time.

“Here we are Duckie.” Danny set the swan back down and it plopped down on the ground and just steadied themselves for a while.

Tim was a swan. He had wings and no fingers, and his feet were webbed.

He was handling it though. By which Tim meant he was shelving the impending panic attack for later when he wasn’t stuck in a swan body. 

Ok, so he’d been turned by the Queen of Fables, so there had to be an answer in a fairytale,a way to make him normal again. He knew the ugly duckling story. That had a swan in it, right? He didnt know any other swan stories, except maybe as a dish during the wedding banquet of whichever princess. He vaguely remembered a Barbie movie that had passed on the TV when he was younger but the only thing that came to mind were a scary-looking Troll thing, and ballet.  So with lack of better alternatives he was going to go with the ugly duckling. The ugly duckling’s happy ending was reuniting with family, so maybe all he needed was to make his way back to Gotham.

“Are you ok?” 

And that was another thing. The guy. The one Tim had at first wanted to get away from. He seemed nice and all, but he also had neon green eyes, and fangs. Unfortunately, while they suited the boy very well, they also marked him as an unknown. 

On the other hand, if the glowing portal wasn’t enough of an indication, the green tinge of everything around was clear indicator that Tim wasn’t in Kansas anymore. The guy seemed to want to help him, and having an ally wherever he was could only help.

Tim nodded as best as he could with his long weird neck, and he had to take a few steps to regain balance.

“That’s good,” the boy smiled with his white pointy canine. “How did you end up in the middle of that maze?”

Tim just looks back tiredly. He didn’t know how to even try and explain when he couldn’t say a word and had no opposable thumbs.

“Yeah, sorry.” The boy winced. “Maybe stick to yes or no questions.”

There was a sharp knock at the door that had the boy turning away.

“Prince Phantom!” A voice rung through the door.

Prince? 

The newly-dubbed Prince Phantom got up to open the door, “yes, what can I do for you?”

“Your meeting with Queen Dora is approaching. Do you still prefer to forgo an escort guards?” a purple lady was saying.

“I’ll be fine without, Maj but thank you very much,” Phantom answered with a polite smile.

“I’ll pass it along, my Prince.” She bowed and closed the doors behind her.

Phantom walked back to lay on the bed with a sigh. “I really hate that they call me that.” He turned towards Tim to continue. “I bet swans don’t have royalty. You guys had the right idea.”

[jancys-blue-bayou]

I’m working on a three chapter fic set between s3 and s4 (which will divert a bit from canon) for a fic request and I hope/think it’ll turn out good but please don’t request anymore fics set between s3 and s4 or concerning the Byers move in some way because still nothing about how the Byers move and how they wrote it and depicted it makes sense at all so all my writing attempts about it end up making my head hurt trying to finagle any logic into the situation and/or having to just go la la la lets just ignore all the issues since canon did.

[kohakhearts]

For the timed prompts ask, I hope original is okay? Maybe something with Nerissa and Poseidon when they were younger. Was thinking maybe a moment early on in Poseidon's life where Nerissa tried to do something for him and realized he could do it himself without her?

send me a prompt for a timed 10-minute flash fic!

After their mother started working more again, like Nerissa remembers her doing when she was much younger, the responsibility of their continued progress in homeschooling fell mostly on Nerissa and Poseidon.

Nerissa has never had an issue motivating herself to read books or write out her interpretations of their contents or even to solve a system of complex arithmetic. In fact, Adrienne mostly gave up on trying to teach her anything new last year, joking that “the student has far surpassed the teacher.” As for Poseidon, well…he’s sort of the opposite.

During the hours Adrienne is away for work, Nerissa sits at the kitchen table beside him and dictates to him what he needs to work on. “It’s important for us to do this,” she always reminds him. “Since we can’t go to school, we have to learn somehow.”

He usually just rolls his eyes at her, but that’s okay. As long as she knows he’s listening to her.

But today, something is different. When she settles down beside him, he shoots her a sideways glance that reeks of resentment. In itself, this isn’t necessarily abnormal; what is abnormal is when he picks up his books and moves himself to another chair completely.

She stares after him, mystified.

“Aren’t you going to do your homework?” she asks.

“Well, yeah.” He flips open the page of the history book Adrienne has been having him take notes from lately. It hits the table with more force than Nerissa suspects he meant for it to. “Don’t you have anything better to do than hover over me?”

“What?”

“I know you have stuff you could be doing too. I saw that book Mom brought home yesterday for you.”

“I… Well…”

She stops, clamping her jaw shut tight. He eyes her for another moment longer, then turns his gaze down to his book, firmly away from her. Though his expression was decidedly frosty, she feels much colder now that it has disappeared from her view.

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

my love if i may request a whiskey with dbf!joel or dbf!bucky with the prompt “i’ve wanted this for so long” and mayhaps if it’s not too much to ask for but some breeding kink👀👉🏻👈🏻

Promises, Promises.

warnings - smut. cursing.

I figured I'd make this dbf!bucky, because i've done a dbf!joel fic for this celebration already. y'all, I read the words dad's best friend and go fucking feral. this one got away from me.

3k celebration post here. 3k masterlist here.

You're the last person Bucky expected to be at his front door at 3am.

"What's wrong, honey?"

"Locked myself out of my goddamn house, and my parents are still on vacation. Can I crash here tonight? Please?"

Who is he to turn down an offer that tempting?

"Course. Come on, it's too cold for you to be stood out here."

The two of you sit down on his couch, settling in to watch some TV.

"Bucky Barnes. Are you watching a romcom?"

He blushes, a slight flush creeping up his cheeks.

"If you tell anyone, I'll kill you. They're my guilty pleasure."

"It makes me like you more, if anything," you grin. He can't help but smile back at you, less embarrassed now.

"Look, my love life is fuckin' terrible. I live vicariously through these cheesy films right now."

"You? Terrible love life? Those two phrases don't usually go in the same sentence."

You're teasing him. Seeing if you can get a rise, hit the right button.

"Oh, shut it. Just because you're on a new date every week."

"I'm... what?"

"Your Dad seems to think you're dating a lot."

You quirk a brow at him, amusement curling at the corners of your lips.

"Is that so?"

"I'm only telling you what I've heard, honey."

He crosses his arms across his chest, biceps threatening to break free from the confines of his t shirt.

"He's wrong."

"Is that so?"

You roll your eyes.

"I have a friend, he's a guy. My Dad automatically assumes we're dating because we hang out. But we're not."

"And why not?"

"I don't know, I guess he's just..." you debate your answer, realising it's now or never. "He's not old enough for me. Not mature enough."

Bucky bites his lip, eyes scanning your face.

"He's your age."

"Exactly. Boys my age don't know shit."

He laughs, but it's dark and low, something brewing beneath the surface.

"You always were too smart for your own good, huh?"

Bucky's thigh is pressing into yours, the warmth from his skin seeping through. His rough fingertips glide across your arm, slow and soft. He's testing the waters.

"I shouldn't want this," he murmurs, barely audible. "Neither should you."

"But I do," you whisper. "So fucking bad."

"Me too."

Bucky grabs the back of your neck, smashing his lips to yours. You grip at his hair, his biceps, his shirt - anything you can get a hold of. You feel like you're dreaming, your filthiest thoughts coming into fruition.

He pulls you into his lap so you're straddling his hips, grinding down and panting into his mouth. You're both breathless, but neither of you want to be the first to pull away.

Bucky rips your shirt over your head, instantly attacking your chest with kisses. He's marking you up, claiming you as his. You should be worried about the repercussions, but you're not.

You pull his shirt off and rake your nails down his front, grinning when he shivers. Suddenly, Bucky stands up, setting you on your feet.

"Strip."

You blink at him, processing.

"Strip, baby. I won't tell you again."

You shimmy your pants down your legs, your underwear going too. Your mouth waters as you watch him undress, admiring the angles and smooth ridges of him. A Greek God.

Bucky stalks over to you and hooks a foot behind your ankle, sending you both flying onto the rug on the floor. He cushions your fall, not letting go of you once. Running two fingers through your wet heat, he groans.

"All for me, pretty girl? What did I do to deserve somethin' this sweet, huh?"

"Need you," you whine. "Please, Buck."

"I've wanted this for so long," he murmurs, lining himself up. "Fuck, you're a dream."

You both gasp as he slides home, your back arching and his jaw falling slack. Bucky rests a hand against the base of your throat, the weight grounding you back down to Earth.

"Need you to move," you choke out. "Fuck, I need it, Buck. Please."

"Oh you need it, do you?" he smirks. "My needy girl."

He snaps his hips into yours in long, careful glides, very aware of the effect he has on you. Before long, his restraint snaps, and his thrusts get harder, quicker, more frantic.

"Gonna fill you up, baby," he's muttering under his breath. "Make you mine. You want that? To have everyone know who you belong to?"

You're nodding rapidly, tears gathering in your eyes, bottom lip caught between your teeth.

"How are we gonna keep this a secret if you're pregnant, huh?"

The thought makes you moan, a breathy, gutteral sound.

"You like that? Want me to make you a mommy? Fuck, I'll give you everything you ask for. I'll buy you a house and knock you up, you'll never want for anything."

His low, honeyed words throw you over the edge, squeezing and clenching around him. Bucky groans, deep and rumbled, the sound vibrating through the both of you. You find your releases together, panting and out of breath.

"House first."

"Huh?" he breathes, raising his head from your chest.

"Buy me a house first. Kids second. Maybe marriage in between."

He laughs, floating and content. You both know he meant what he said, not just a heat of the moment confession.

You stay wrapped up in each other for hours, on the rug in front of the fire.

You'll deal with the repercussions later.

[surftrips]

CROSS YOUR HEART AND HOPE TO DIE

pairing: young coriolanus snow x reader

word count: 600+

summary: based on "follow you" by bring me the horizon. young/slightly ooc coriolanus snow finds comfort in y/n's arms.

a/n: yeah, i can't believe i'm returing from my hiatus with a coriolanus snow x reader fic, but here we are. please feel free to send in prompts/requests with him though ;)

"Because I don't want to fucking hurt you.” Coriolanus snapped. "God, half the time, I'm scared I could break you, even though I'm doing everything I can to hold back."

Your boyfriend was having a hard time lately. The anniversary of his father's death was creeping up and you knew he was having those thoughts again.

He had confided in you early on in your relationship his two biggest fears: losing you, and turning into his father. Now, he was spiraling with thoughts of both happening.

"Talk to me," you said, trying to reassure him. The two of you were by the lake, entangled in each other's arms on a blanket.

"I- I just..." he was trying to catch his breath. "I'm so angry all the time and you, you're an angel. You've never done anything wrong in your life. I don't deserve you, I don't know how to not fuck this up."

You couldn't help but smile at his name for you, reaching out to caress his cheek. He leaned into your familiar touch, one of the few things that could calm him down when he was like this.

It was true, he did get mad at the smallest things. Just last week, he got jealous of Sejanus for holding up your skirt as you went down the stairs, even though the two of you were clearly just friends.

And yesterday, he was frustrated with something that happened during training and came back to the cabin furious. You had asked him how his day was, like usual, and he had snapped at you.

"It was bad. Do you have to ask me that everyday?" he retorted, knocking over the items on the shelf closest to him.

But even though he got jealous or angry sometimes, you knew that he was working on it. He always felt awful afterward, and always made sure that you knew how sorry he was. That night, he had drawn a bath for you and even added some wild lavender he found near the water.

"Hey, you know I love you, right?" you said.

He sat up slightly to make better eye contact with you, "I do. But what if that's not enough?"

You frowned, "My love isn't?"

"No, no. I meant what if love, in general, is not enough? What if that's not enough to change my fate? Y/N, you know about my father, he was awful."

"I know, Coryo," you sighed. "But I also know you, and you're a good person. You love me, you love the Covey. You care about me, and your family. You want to be good, and I think that is enough."

Still, he didn't seem convinced. "I hate that I can barely remember him anymore, but he's still haunting me. The rebels that killed him haunt me. What if that happens to me?"

"Stop. No one here is going to do that, they know you're on our side. Don't you see? You're trying so hard to not be like your father, but you don't have to try to be good. You just are, deep-down in here," you pointed to where his heart is. "You are."

He leaned down now to pull you into a kiss. "Angel, can you promise me something?"

"What is it?"

"Promise me you'll never leave my side."

"Coryo, you could drag me through hell if it meant I could hold your hand. I will follow you to the ends of the earth. We're in this together."

That seemed to please him, finally. He wrapped his arms tighter around you and pulled you to lay back down with him. The two of you stared up at the stars, each silently wishing for this to work out.

[wintfleur]

Hiii can I pls request 🌱 childhood home/room with Charles Leclerc or lewis and female reader? Loads of fluff and maybe nsfw?

For Charles like praising but if you write Lewis maybe an age gap, praising, pocessive? Soft but dominant for both and talking the reader through it with an extensive aftercare? Like all giggling and cuddling etc would loveee that

౨ৎ it’s called charm baby !

°. — pairings ( Lewis Hamilton x female! Reader )

°. — summary ( your boyfriend knows how to make you feel better, after dinner with him meeting your family doesn’t go well )

°. — details ( g; fluff & smut. w; smut, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!!!!), cursing, hair pulling, I think that’s all?. wc; 2.7k )

﹕─┈ prompt ~ childhood room

˖ ་ 💭 roro’s notes ( I COULD NOT STOP GIGGLING AS I READ THIS NONNIE YOU ARE A GENIUS !!!! This was my first Lewis fic, and I just loved writing for him so thank you for sending in the request, I really hope you enjoy this !!! I’m still kinda new to writing smut so I hope you guys like it <333 )

1k celly masterlist main masterlist f1 masterlist

“Well that went better than i expected” Lewis mused after he heard the sound of you closing the door behind you. His eyes were immediately drawn to your walls, taking in every detail with a fond smile. He always wondered what your childhood room looked like; he'd seen a few pictures of you in the room, but it was different from actually being there. He didn't get a chance of getting a good look earlier when the two of you had brought your shared luggage up, your youngest brother who was only a few years younger than you, whisking him away before he could really take everything in. 

You could hear the slight of sarcasm in his tone making you feel even worse on how your parents ⸺ no how your father treated him at dinner. The two of you decided to finally come visit your parents now that Lewis is on break. You were a little hesitant on coming, knowing how your father could be, but Lewis was convincing. Your mother was as sweet as always, asking questions about his career and giving his family good wishes, your two brothers were eager to talk about his career as well, your niece was absolutely smitten with him, and your father . . . completely uninterested. You knew he wasn't happy with you and Lewis's age-gap with how much he voiced his opinion about it, but still you thought he'd at least try . . . for you. 

“I’m really sorry lew, we shouldn't have come” you frowned as your eyes followed your boyfriend of a year around your room. He was taking in every detail, everything in your room made sense to him, everything was so you. Lewis looked away from your collection of posters over your desk and moved to sit on the edge of your bed facing you, a smile on his lips. “Don't say that baby, i know you really wanted to see your family, and I've had a great time.” 

“Give me a few more days and I'll get your dad to like me” Lewis promised as he leaned back on his hands, a small giggle leaving his lips as he saw the clearly old stuffed bear perfectly sitting on your bed. You feel your heart warm at his words, he was always so selfless, willing to go through anything just so he could see a smile on your pretty face. You swiftly lock your door and walk over to your boyfriend, the corner of your lips twitching up into a smirk when you watch how his eyes immediately drop to your swaying hips. 

“You are quite charming” You whispered as you placed your hands on your boyfriend's shoulders, feeling the smooth silk of his shirt as you climbed up onto his lap, the two of you keeping eye contact as he looked up at you. Lewis smirked as he heard your coquettish tone that he loved so much. The dress he bought you in Brazil riding up your thighs at the new position and he was eager to move his hands to caress your bare thighs, chills decorating your skin at his touch. 

“Oh, am i?” he teasingly asks you even though he was well aware how charming he is with how much you reminded him, a cocky smile on his lips. Lewis watched as you playfully rolled your eyes as you moved your hands to his nape, your breath hitching when you felt him slide his hands under your dress and up your thighs. You playfully chided him with a click of your tongue and a small shake of your head “Cockiness doesn't look good on you Lewis.” 

That's a lie. It looked really good on him . . . 

“Fuck but you do” lewis quickly breathed out as he looked up at you, swiftly moving one of his hands out from under your dress and tangling it in your hair at your nape and pulling you down into a wet kiss he’s wanted to do all day. A small sound of surprise leaves your lip that he's quick to swallow, his lips eagerly moving against yours. You move one of your hands to cup his cheek, the soft caress of your thumb on his jaw was completely different from the passionate kiss the two you were sharing. 

You absentmindedly grinded against your boyfriend's lap, a mix of a moan and a whine leaving your lips at the feeling of the friction against his bulging length and the feeling of his grip tightening on your hair. The two of you were both so desperate for each other's touch, having to be good and keep your hands to yourself all day in front of your family. God it was torture, especially seeing how good he looked. The lingering touches he left on your waist as he walked past you, or the soft touches on your thighs under the table. He knew what he was doing . . . 

You reluctantly pull away from your boyfriend's addictive lips, panting against his lips as you're slow to open your eyes. You lock eyes with lewis darkened ones, your thighs clenching around him when he untangles his fingers out of your hair and uses his thumb to wipe the spit off your tingling lips. “Please” your tone is desperate and whiny. You didn't have to say anything else; he knew what you wanted, and your eyes were begging him to fuck you.

You knew you were playing with fire, but your room was far enough from your parents, and you were too needy to really care. Lewis groaned as he felt you grind your hips impatiently against him, a smirk forming on his lips. He could feel you throbbing even with three layers of clothing between the two of you. Lewis chuckled and rested his hand on your collarbone, his thumb teasingly tracing the column of your throat, knowing that you were just itching to have him wrap his hand around it. His hand under your dress gripped your thigh “You think you can be quite hmm? Be my good girl?” 

“I promise lewis, i'll be your good girl” you promised as you nodded quickly, starting to get impatient as you felt his hand slowly move up and down your thigh, the cold chill of his rings against your warm skin sending a shiver down your spine. You couldn't wait anymore, and he could see that. The look in your eyes, the impatient rolling of your hips, 

“I know baby, you're always my good girl aren't you” Lewis whispered as slowly trailed his hand up the inside of your thigh. You let out a small huff of frustration, just wanting to feel his fingers calm that ache between your thighs. But you were quick to close your mouth and bite your lip at the stern look lewis gave you, he had no problem with you being needy, but he crossed the line at you being bratty. But he’ll take pity on his pretty girl, he moves his hand right to where you were needing him the most. A gasp leaving your lips at his touch while a small chuckle leaves him at how damp your panties were, his pointer finger teasingly rubbing your clit through your panties. 

“Mhm yes lew” you whimpered and leaned down to lay your head on his shoulder, softly biting his silk shirt to keep your moans at bay as he dips his fingers into your panties, covering his fingers in your slick and smoothly slipping two fingers inside your throbbing hole. You wrap your arms around Lewis muscular shoulders, a whine leaving your lips at the sudden stretch. 

Lewis smiles cheekily and looks down at you, your lips parted as sweet and quiet moans left your lips as he continued his slow movement, massaging your tight walls. Leaning down to whisper in your ear, his beard tickling your face, but you were too lost in pleasure to say anything about it “Awe darling, you're just sucking my fingers up, so tight.” 

“Feels so good” You moaned out, tilting your head to start kissing and sucking your boyfriend's godly neck, desperately needing to occupy your mouth so you wouldn't be moaning out praises and curses at the pleasure your boyfriend was giving you. Lewis let out a quiet grunt at the feeling of your lips on his burning skin, sucking and nibbling. And the way you gently rutted against his fingers and the choked-out moan you let out when he curled his fingers up, made him want to lay you across the bed and fuck you until you couldn't take it anymore. 

“Lew i need more ⸺ please fuckkk i need more” you begged, letting out a sharp gasp when he starts rubbing your clit with his thumb, his hand covered in your slick. Lewis smirks and locks eyes with you, your eyes glazed over. His poor baby was already fucked out and he hasn't even taken his cock out. Lewis kisses your forehead and slowly pulls his fingers out of your sopping hole and softly patting your clit as he whispers.

 “Only because you asked so prettily.” 

“Fuck darling, you take me so fucking well” Lewis got out between his grunts, his thumbs dipped into the dimples of your back as he holds tightly onto your waist as he thrusts into you from behind. His eyebrows furrowed and his lips parted as his gaze was fixed on where your bodies connected ⸺ loving how good your pussy swallows him in. He slides his hands down to hold your ass, his fingers sinking into your skin and spreading it open slightly to watch as his dick covered in your slick disappears in your needy cunt. 

A soft chuckle leaves his lips when he notices your trembling thighs “Feels good, huh?” 

“Feels so good” you mewled in pleasure, your arms were stretched under the coolness of your pillows, and the soft fabric of your duvet against your cheek and naked body felt so good against your burning skin. Your face was smushed against your soft pillow, hoping that it would help muffle your uncontrollable moans that only got more frequent the harder his thrusts got. 

Lewis pulls up your hips and adjusts the pillow under your hips, the new angle causing him to pound into you deeper. A loud moan leaving your lips at how deep he was stretching you ⸺ you felt so full. The sound of your skin meeting creates a lewd noise that makes you feel like you were in a trance, being lulled by the rhythmic sound. You pull your pillow closer to you, whines and moans leaving your parted lips as your body jerks forward from the hard thrusts “It's too much!” 

Lewis leans down as he continues fucking into your aching cunt, one of his hands softly rubbing up your back before tangling his hands into your hair and making a makeshift ponytail and pulling you up against his chest. Your back arched and one of your trembling hands moved behind you and dug your fingers into the skin of Lewis thigh so you wouldn't fall, a delicious hiss leaving his lips at the sting he welcomed. “You can take it baby ⸺ we both know you can” he whispered huskily in your ear, trailing off into a taunting coo, both of you thinking back on the countless times of you fucking yourself on his cock. 

“You gonna cum for me love?” Lewis moaned, feeling the way you clenched around him, the feeling bringing him closer to his own peak. “Yes lew!” you whined as you tilted your head back against him. Lewis kept his eyes on you taking in the beauty of your side profile as he continued to fuck you. Your eyebrows were furrowed, and your eyes were glazed over with pleasure, your mouth parted as quiet moans slipped past your lips. 

“I’m gonna cum  ⸺ fuckk” you cried out, but it came out muffled from lewis hand quickly covering your mouth, your head tipping forward as you felt that rope inside you snap, letting you fall into your own desire. Everything went silent for a second and you swore you lost vision as you came undone. And like a chain reaction, Lewis spilled himself deep inside of you, not being able to hold back once he felt you cum around him. Quiet grunts leaving his lips as he tilted his head back in pleasure. 

Your trembling body fell forward on your bed, a whimper leaving your lips at the feeling of him slipping out of you while a hiss left his. You snuggled your face into your unruly sheets as you tried to catch your breath and calm down from the intense orgasm your boyfriend led you to. Lewis’s sweaty chest heaved as he panted and also tried to catch his breath, his eyes closing for a few seconds. 

He looks down at your tired body and places his hands on the bed at the sides of your body, softly kissing your back a few times a smile on his lips at the sight of your sweaty body. You let out a quiet groan as you rolled over in bed, your glazed over eyes looking up at your smiling boyfriend. Lewis leaned down, placing his hands by your head so he wouldn't crush you with his body weight. 

“You did so good f’me” lewis praised you as he placed gentle and soft kisses all over your face. You smiled and shut your eyes at the soft feeling of his lips, one of his hands moving to gently caress your side. His head falling into the crook of your neck to softly kiss. You hum in satisfaction at his soft and sweet touches and whisper “up for a bath?” 

Lewis placed a few more kisses on your shoulder and collarbone before sitting up on his knees between your spread legs. You smile and sit up as well, placing your hand on his abdomen before placing a soft and meaningful kiss over his heart. Lewis looked down at you with such love, taking your hand on his chest into his and placing a kiss on it before whispering “Always with you darling.”

Lewis helps you out of your bed and into your bathroom that was connected to your room, his hands flipping the switch while you were already moving to the shelf in your bathroom, grabbing a few candles and setting them on the edge around your big white bathtub. You would be lying if you said you didn't miss your bathtub the most about your childhood room. 

Lewis rests his hands on your waist as you lean down to turn on the water, hot water soon pouring out and filling the bath. You giggle when you come up, your back coming flush against his chest. Lewis was quick to place a few kisses on your shoulder and whisper in your ear how beautiful you looked. You turn around and playfully scold him with a grin on your face “You're such a flirt.” 

“I prefer to say I'm just charming” Lewis smirked, using your words against you. You bit your lip and nod your head, touché. You let Lewis get into the bath first, and then you. Your body nestling between his legs and his arms wrapped around your waist as you leaned back against his chest. The two of you enjoyed a few minutes of peaceful silence as you relaxed in the warm bath, your muscles relaxing from the cardio. 

“I love you” you broke the silence as you tilted your head to look back at him. He could see the reflection of the candle burning in your eyes, and your lips were so red from all the bruising kisses the two of you shared. He brought his water-soaked hand and cups your cheek, bringing you closer and resting his forehead on the side of your head. Yes, the dinner didn't go the way the both of you wanted, but he wouldn't have changed anything because it brought the two of you here . . . in that soft moment filled with nothing but love and vanilla candles. 

“And i love you “

˖ ་ 💭 roro’s notes ( ahhh im nervous about this 🤭 please tell me what you guys think 💋 )

°. — taglist ( @iloveyou3000morgan @copper-boom @cixrosie @partyinpitlane @toasttt11 )

[amentomensmut]

Stress Relief

Mike Schmidt x fem!reader

Summary: Mike comes home from work stressed, and you decide to help him out. Word count: 2.4k

Warnings: 18+ content!, AGE GAP!! in my mind reader is 21 and Mike is 31, degrading, praise, name calling (baby, sweetheart, whore), fingering (f receiving), oral (m receiving), unprotected penetrative sex, finger sucking, creampie, cum play (sorta at the end not really), also a warning for how bad i am at writing endings 😭

Note: I really hope u guys enjoy, this is my longest fic so far!! A little nervy to post for some reason. Also, please send in any writing requests or prompts if you'd like!

In the three weeks that you’d been babysitting for Mike's sister Abby, you’ve never seen Mike come home from a shift so angry before. You watch from the couch as Mike, without sparing you a glance, rips his jacket off, and walks to his bedroom. Not long after, you hear the shower begin to run.

You crinkle your eyebrows in confusion at Mike's unusual and somewhat dramatic entrance. You don’t think much of it as you wake Abby up for school, begging her to get ready faster because you already let her sleep in for too long. After getting some food in Abby’s stomach, and driving her faster than you should be to school, you decided to head back to the Schmidt household, just to make sure Mike is alright. Besides, you drove Abby to school while he was in the shower, so he might not have heard you guys leave. You should at least let him know. It’s not like you’re making an excuse to see him.

You enter the house and take your shoes and coat off at the door. It’s silent and you can’t hear the shower running anymore so you assume Mike is in his bedroom. You walk down the hallway to Mike’s bedroom door and you softly knock.

“Mike? I, um, I drove Abby to school.” You say, listening intently for a response. You’re nervous for some reason, you don’t know why. You wait for a few seconds with no answer on the other side of the door. Maybe Mike isn’t home, you think. That, or he just doesn’t want to talk to you. You turn on your heels to leave back down the hallway when you hear Mike's door open.

“Thank you. You’ve been a big help.” You hear Mike say. You turn back around to face Mike and your eyes nearly bulge out of your head. He’s practically naked, save for a towel around his waist. His hair is wet and drops of water drip down his neck and chest. You won’t lie and say you don’t find Mike attractive, of course you do. But, that was a feeling you had always pushed away. Besides, the man is 10 years older than you. Mike and you, would never happen. You know that. But a girl can dream, can’t she?

“Yeah, of course. Anything I can do to lessen your load.” You say with a cheesy smile that you can’t help, and you scold yourself in your head for your pathetic answer. You keep your eyes glued to Mike's face, trying desperately not to follow the drops of water that trail down his torso. Mike lets out the ghost of a smirk at your response, and he leans on his bedroom door.

“Yeah, well, thanks again.” Mike says, like that should be the end of the conversation, but neither of you move to leave. It’s almost like Mike knows you want to keep talking to him. That you want his attention, and you can see his smirk growing bigger the longer you stand there.

“I was just-, I was wondering if you were alright? You seemed kinda stressed when you came back from work this morning.” You feel embarrassment at your desperate attempt to continue the conversation, and you cross your arms over your chest. For a split second, Mike's eyes watch the way your cleavage becomes more emphasised by your actions. He acts like it didn’t happen, and it happened so fast you question if it even did.

“It was just a stressful shift, that’s all.” Mike says, and his eyes bore into yours.

Before you can even think about it, the words leave your mouth.

“I could help, if you want. Y’know, relieve the stress.”

Mike doesn’t even look fazed by your words, but you want to be swallowed by the ground right now. The lazy smirk on Mike's face remains, and you start to fidget with your fingers nervously.

“You wanna help me to relieve some stress?” Mike asks. You timidly nod your head and Mike can’t help but softly laugh.

“You know sweetheart, I don’t bite. Relax a little.” Mike says, probably referring to the fact that you look incredibly nervous. Mike walks a little closer to you, and you’re now standing only a couple inches apart.

“I see how you look at me. You try to hide it, but you’re not very stealthy.” Mike says slowly, trying to gauge your reaction to the shift in moods. You suck in a sharp breath at Mike's words, and you curse yourself for being so obvious with your little crush.

“Sorry.” You say somewhat quietly, and Mike shakes his head.

“No, no. No need to be sorry, I find it flattering coming from a pretty girl like you.” Mike says as he tucks a stray piece of your hair behind your ears. Your breath gets caught in your throat, and you feel Mike's hand cupping your cheek and rubbing soothing circles into it with his thumb.

“Tell me what’s going on up here.” Mike says softly as he moves his thumb from your cheek to your forehead. You bite the inside of your cheek. You’ve gotten this far, you might as well just tell him.

“I wanna help you relieve some stress. Wanna make you feel good.” You say, and Mike’s eyebrows raise at your bold words. He brings his hand down to your chin, holding it with his pointer finger and thumb. He brings his thumb to your lips, and you slowly open them, letting him push his thumb inside your mouth. You suck his thumb into your mouth, flicking your tongue along the underside of it and hollowing your cheeks. Mike groans and he pushes his thumb as far into your mouth as it can go.

“Jesus Christ.” Mike practically moans. You keep your eyes locked with his and after a few more seconds Mike retracts his thumb from your mouth. “You want it that bad, huh?” Mike asks teasingly, and you nod your head. “Yes.” You confirm.

Mike brings his lips down to yours in an instant, wasting no time. You gasp at his sudden actions and he takes advantage of that by entering his tongue into your mouth. You grab at his shoulders while he cups your jaw with both of his hands. He turns both of you around and begins to walk you back into his bedroom. Your hands reach his hair, softly tugging at the root and you hear him whine. Mike sucks on your bottom lip, catching it between his teeth and pulling it back before sitting you on the end of his bed. You look up at him and he takes your face in his hands.

“You wanna make me feel less stressed, baby?” Mike asks in a teasing tone as he looks down at you. His crotch is in line with your face, and you can see the outline of his dick through the towel.

“Please.” You say, and you swear your mouth starts to water at the thought of sucking Mike’s dick. The towel that was once hanging low around Mike’s waste is now on the floor. You practically moan at the sight of Mike’s hard cock. It looks like it hurts, with precome steadily dripping from the tip. You slightly smile at the fact that you were able to do that. You take the base of his cock in your hands, and you slowly stroke him up and down. You watch the way he tilts his head back, exposing his neck to you. Mike grabs your cheeks with one hand, smooshing them together so your lips purse out.

“Take it into your mouth, baby. You’re a big girl. You can do it.” Your legs clench together at his words and Mike brings the hand that was once on your face to the top of your head. You kiss the tip of Mike’s dick, licking away some of the precum. You suck the tip into your mouth, swirling your tongue around it. You hear Mike groan and push your head down farther onto him. You hold his thighs for support as you take him deeper. You moan around Mike’s dick and you feel him twitch in your mouth. You gag as he hits the back of your throat and Mike moans loudly.

“God, baby. You feel so fucking good.” Mike says as he pushes your head down as far as it can go, until your nose touches the coily hairs at the base of his cock. He guides your mouth off of him, leaving a trail of spit that connects your lips and the tip of his dick. Mike wipes away the tears that started to fall down your cheeks and he guides you back onto the bed. He kisses you deeply as he hovers over you. He brings his lips down to your jaw, neck, and your collarbones; softly sucking and licking. He helps you take off your shirt and your bra and wraps his lips around one of your nipples, and then moving to the next one giving it equal attention.

“Mike, please.” You whine, squirming as Mike places a kiss between your breasts. Mike sits back and runs his hands up and down the sides of your body.

“Oh, you're feeling extra polite this morning, huh? Please, Mike. I wanna make you feel good, Mike.” Mike mocks you with a tiny laugh. You groan in embarrassment and hide your face with your hands. Mike just lets out another laugh and wraps his hands around your wrists, prying them away from your face. He transfers both of your wrists to one hand, holding them over your head as he uses his other hand to trail his fingers down your body.

“Don’t hide your pretty face now, sweetheart. I wanna see it when I make you cum.” Mike says nonchalantly as he dips a hand inside your leggings and panties to feel your dripping cunt. You clench around nothing when you feel his middle finger dip into your wetness and bring it up to your clit, rubbing slow circles around it. You moan softly as Mike teases your clit while never taking his eyes off of your face.

Mike begins to rub your clit faster, and you buck your hips up into his fingers. You hear Mike laugh at your eagerness and he presses soft kisses into your neck. Mike takes his fingers off of your clit and he snaps the waistband of your leggings against your pelvis.

“Can I take these off? They’re uh, a little restricting.” Mike says with a little laugh, and you join in, giggling as you nod your head at his question. Mike takes his hand off of your wrists to take your leggings and panties off. Once they’re off, he spreads your legs and you hear him groan at the view of your wet pussy in front of him. Mike inserts a finger into you and you moan loudly, arching your back off the bed.

“Dirty girl. You like getting fingered by older men?” Mike says with a smirk and you dumbly nod your head. Mike adds another finger and he pumps them in and out of you quickly. The sounds of your heavy breathing and your pussy squelching around Mike's thick fingers make your legs begin to shake. Mike spits on your cunt to lubricate it even more, and that's what makes you come undone. Your cunt clenches around Mike's fingers, sucking them in as he fingers you through your orgasm.

You breathe heavily, recovering from your orgasm as you watch Mike suck your cum off of his fingers. Mike leans in to kiss you again, softly this time and you smile against his lips in your post orgasmic bliss.

“M’gonna fuck you now, okay?” Mike says sweetly and you nod your head. Mike runs his hard cock through your folds, and he catches your clit, making you jerk a little. Mike slowly begins to push himself into you and you throw your head back against the pillow.

“Fuck, knew you’d be tight when I felt you around my fingers.” Mike grits out, and he continues to push himself into you until he bottoms out. Mike starts to move at a slow pace, and he whines when you beg him to move faster.

“Fucking whore. Bet you think about me fucking you when you wait for me to come home from work.” Mike spits out as he pushes himself harder and deeper into your sloppy cunt. You moan at Mike's words, and you try to reply but all that comes out is a pathetic whimper.

“I bet you touch yourself to the thought of me at night. I bet you’ve touched yourself thinking about this exact moment.” Mike says, as he brings his thumb to your sensitive clit and starts to rub harsh circles.

“Mike, I’m gonna cum.” You cry out, and you clench around Mike's cock.

“Cum, baby. Cum for me.” Mike moans out, fucking into you so deep, a ring of your cum and his has formed at the base of his cock. You run your fingers through Mike's hair, harshly tugging on it as you come undone at his expense. Mike buries his face into your neck as he cums, sucking at your pulse point. You feel his cum shoot into you and it only prolongs your own orgasm.

After a couple minutes of you two catching your breath, Mike takes his face out of your neck and gives your forehead a kiss.

“You were so good. Amazing.” He says, praising you as he begins to slowly pull out of you. He watches the way his cum slowly leaks out of you, and he pushes it back in with his middle and pointer fingers.

Mike gets up to go get you a warm towel and the only thing you can think about as you lay, legs shaking, on Mike's bed, is thank god for Mike being stressed.

[gumiluver]

21&29 with nanami; like 21 for the beginning and reader is still shy especially when 29 comes into play :) fem reader pls 🥺

you don’t know just how heavy I fuck w this idea I’m so here for it!! hope you enjoy luv!! <3

prompt 21: "If you wanted me to fuck you then you should've just said so, love. No need to be shy with me—you're my everything."

prompt 29: "Ohhh fuck—baby...did you know you could squirt?”

lover <3: nanami kento x afab!reader

byr/byi: the content in this fic is not suitable for individuals under the age of 18--minors will be blocked (DNI), wc: 1.7k

cw: smut, nsfw, pwp, afab!reader, praise kink, manhandling, dom/sub dynamics, teasing, squirting, pet names (love, baby)

an: requests still open! check out the guidelines here for more info :)

border credit: @/cafekitsune, pic credit: oh5629289 on pinterest

“How long have we been together now love—two years and you’re still so shy f’ me?” Kento questions you, peppering soft kisses along the nape of your neck. His burly hands move along the sides of your hips, one slowly trailing upwards to cup and caress your left breast while the other molds around your hip, pulling a whine out of you in the process.

“C-can’t help it Ken’…you make me so flustered,” you whimper, pulling from his grasp to shy away from his intense gaze. He’s quick to grab your chin tho, forcing your eyes back to him to meet his sly gaze. Your shy nature easily amuses his, loving how quick you are to break your composure and fall for his ploy.

“Is that so, love? What makes you so flustered, hm?” he teases, an uncommon occurrence that makes your empty pussy clench helplessly. You whine and shift around in his hold, wanting to break away from your lover's grasp to hide under the covers and save yourself from his teasing. Your thighs squeeze together, aimlessly hoping to satisfy the deep ache that’s settling in your cunt and, of course, he takes note of that.

Nanami has always been so observant over you.

Like how he knows when you’re holding in your pleasure filled moans—the little scrunch of your nose and furrow of your brow gives you away.

Or when you try and sneak a quick orgasm in after he’s warned you to hold it—the way your pussy clenches his tip for dear life even after he’s stilled your hips makes your plans damn well known to him.

And even when you’re trying to hide how horny you are—like how you are now—he can tell; from the way you shy away from his touch and overt your gaze as if he were the apple of sin you couldn’t help but sink your teeth in.

And he fucking loves it. He loves getting to see your agitated and flustered state—it inflates his ego like no other. To see you, the most beautiful being he’s ever laid his eyes on, become so enamored and needy for him has him feeling like a fucking god.

“What is it, baby? You can tell me. What is it that you need me to do—say it,” he demands, pressing you deeper into the wall, grinding his hard cock into your clothed pussy. The moan that spills from you fuels Nanami’s head with even more sinful deeds he’d love to corrupt you with.

“I-I need…” you trail off, panting like a bitch in heat over how flustered he’s got you. You let out a small whine, feeling his left knee shift between your legs to press against your slick mound, rubbing his strong thigh against you to provide you with the pleasure your body oh so craves.

“Yes? What do you need love,” he whispers, moving the hand on your hip to place a light grasp around your neck, holding you steady and meeting your gaze.

“Ahh!! K-Kento please!!” you beg, unsure of what exactly it was you were even begging for—but nonetheless, you plead. The pleasure pulsating through your sweet cunt sends shockwaves, hitting deep within your soul and making you preen.

“Say it. Be good and tell me what you need,” he groans out, patience wearing thin at the feel of your heat leaking through your panties and onto his slacks. His tan pants presenting a wet spot on the thigh that’s pushed up to your cunt—how lewd.

“N-need you…in me…” you whimper out, shamefully closing your eyes to save yourself from the embarrassment that is begging for dick.

But fuck did it make his cock throb hearing it.

The second he hears your pretty plea, Kento makes haste in stripping you of your clothes and sprinting to the nearest surface he can find.

“If you wanted me to fuck you then you should’ve just said so, love. No need to be shy with me—you’re my everything,” he coos, hovering his hulking body over your smaller one. Sheepishly, you glance away from him to gawk at his toned body. Ripples of muscle decorate his form as his tanned skin glows a pretty shade of pink, no doubt from the sheer excitement coursing through his veins.

He brings a hand upwards to cup your chin again, wanting to make sure that your wandering eyes don’t miss all the fun that’s about to start, “keep your eyes on me love—don’t look away.”

His demanding tone a clear contradiction to his usually gentle demeanor, making your mouth fall dry and your pussy run wet. You nod quickly, making direct eye contact with your lover's hazel eyes, and the hum of approval he lets out makes you clench your thighs that are hung around his waist.

Slowly, he rubs the tip of his cock against your folds, carefully collecting the slick that escapes from your pussy to thoroughly coat his cock—all while gazing intensely at you. After all, he didn’t want to miss seeing your face morphed into that pleasure-filled look he positively yearns to see.

A whiny cry of his name pulls him back to reality, ripping his gaze away from yours to stare down at your entrance and fuck—what a fucking mess.

“Ohhh baby, look at you,” he groans loudly, smacking the tip of his cock against your soaked cunny. Lewd ‘plap’ ‘plap’ ‘plaps’ radiate against the room with the way his heavy cockhead smacks against your clit. You’re quivering now, moving your hips to avoid the torturous teasing that your sorcerer subjects you to.

And just as you were about to whine for him to just put it in, you felt his heavy tip catch against your little hole. Gasping, you frantically reach for his biceps, nails digging into the skin as he slowly feeds you his monstrous cock.

“Ha’aaahh—kentooo!” you cry out, unable to comprehend the sheer stretch that is his girth. Regardless of how many times you’ve taken Kento, or how long he spends between your thighs prepping you, nothing could ever mentally prepare you for the actual feeling of his cock splitting you open.

“I know baby I know—just a c-couple more inches, fuckk,” he groans, glancing up at you every so often to make sure you’re still being his good girl and watching everything he does, “being so good for me.”

It felt like eons have passed before Kento finally sheathes himself fully into you. But, as soon as he’s inside you, he’s quick to unsheathe and start up a brutal pace.

“I-I can’t!! Oh f-fuck—slow do-own Ken’!!” you whimper out, his sharp thrusts breaking up your sentence. He fucks you with a passion that rivals that of a warrior, composed and dead set on his goal of fucking you to completion. He wants to ingrain himself into your womb, wants your pussy to react to his touch, his voice—and his alone.

“Fuuuuck this pussy’s perfect for me love, keep your legs spread—yeaaa just like that,” he grunts, absolutely lost in a haze of lust and pleasure. He’s so pussy drunk on you that he doesn’t even realize just how far gone you are. His usually observant nature completely bypassed the way he could only see the whites of your eyes, how your body is shaking—convulsing even, and just how sensitive your body is slowly starting to feel. Your pussy’s fluttering ridiculously, spasming around his thick shaft so much so that it felt like his cock was getting massaged by your womb. The wetness of your cunt made the nastiest sounds, filling the air with a lewd atmosphere that screamed sex.

But something felt…different.

It felt…off.

You jolt upwards—or at least tried to, considering how quick Nanami was to push you back down, not wanting to let up on his precious girl.

“K-Kento it feels weird!!” you cry, pushing at his arms to try and escape his ruthless pounding, but it’s pointless—he’s got you caged in his arms, right where he wants you.

“s’okay love, let me make it feel good—can feel you squeezing my cock so nicely, fuuckk” he lets out an animalistic grunt, pressing more of his body weight into you to immobilize you. You let out a long, languid moan, the feeling of his tip proding in places you didn’t even realize he could reach was making you see galaxies rather than stars. But yet again, that same foreign pressure began to burn deep within your womb, almost as if you were going to explode.

“N-nooo, p-please!! It feels like I—ahhh—…feels like m’gonna…” you trail off, unable to formulate your words. You’re panting so much that all you could do was move your hands to his chest in a measly attempt to push him away.

“Gonna what, love? Gonna cum? Come on baby, give it to me—cum for me,” he grunts out, his voice going octaves lower—so much so that you could feel the reverb of his voice hit your clit. His thrusts move quicker and with much more vigor, aiming to push you over the edge. Sneaking a rough hand down to your mound, he maneuvers his thumb to find your pink pearl and circles it in that specific way that makes you go fucking crazy.

And that final motion was what came of your undoing.

A bright flash of white obscures your vision, and the sheer ecstasy that courses through your veins sends you into an early release that spills all over your lover's pelvis. Nanami’s eyes widen in shock, seeing the guttural force of your orgasm shake the literal wind out of you makes his pride swell like none other. He couldn’t believe it; who could’ve known that his perfect little angel could do something so…lascivious—so sinful.

“Ohhh fuck—baby…did you know you could squirt?”

an: the way this man makes me go absolutely feral…anyways, I hope you all enjoyed & requests are still open!! Please be sure to check the guidelines before you submit a request!! <3

As always, likes, comments, follows, reblogs, and any other form of interaction is greatly appreciated <3 #supportcreators

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Winter's King 1

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, cheating, violence, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You are a maid to the Duke of Debray, a lord of the Summer Kingdom. That is, until the king of Winter appears with his particular air of coldness. (Medieval AU)

Characters: Geralt of Rivia

Note: this one came out of no where.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

It’s uncharacteristically grim on the plains of Debray. Rains pelt the tall green grasses, flattening them in a slanted downpour that dims the horizon. Clouds blot out the daylight and lend to atmosphere of unease in the warring lands. 

Behind the castle walls, one can forget about the bloodshed staining the counties red, though it is all the dukes and his audience can speak of. The lords that bluster through those gates, sometimes at the toll of morning, some in the black swathes of night. You can’t count them all, you can name even fewer, but they come anon and leave just as brusquely. 

A peel of thunder shakes the land and a dark line limns the curve of the horizon. What appears first as a storm cloud advances quickly through the fields, appearing more clearly to the naked eye, distant nonetheless. Men. Another party fast on the approach. 

The alarm goes up at a man’s holler. Ethred, man at the gate hollers to the other men in mail. Niam peers out from the vantage of the tower and calls back down. A hush falls and bodies scurry all around, metal clinking and boots crunching. There’s something amiss. Something you can’t quite place. 

You turn away from the window, the steam rising from the basin in your hand swirling around your head. You carry on down the corridor, wool skirts around cautious steps as you balance the swaying water in the vessel. You approach the lady’s door and give it a rap with your knee. Merinda, another handmaid, opens it from within. 

You enter without a word and place the basin on the vanity table. The duke’s daughter preens herself with a painted fan, fluttering her lashes at her reflection as her curls spill down her long back. She tilts her head this way and that. She snaps the fan shut and puts it down, touching her soft brown cheeks with a devilish grin. 

“Do you know what father mentioned last eve?” Jazlene asks with a vain flutter of her lashes. 

“What did he mention?” Her mother, Lady Rezlyn prompts lazily as she plucks another cherry from a dish heaped in fruit. 

“A husband,” the daughter grins coyly at herself, “it is well due, isn’t it, mother? Who do you think it might be? Lord Gai, perhaps? He is young still.” 

“Perhaps the Earl of Mesafin,” her mother taunts back to a disgusted gasp. 

“Do not,” Jazlene pouts, “I could never... I am much too pretty for that haggard beast.” 

“Well, then, who might you have, precious?” Rezlyn goads. 

There is a clamour in the hall that keeps the younger of the woman from answering. She rolls her eyes and darkly glare at the door. You peer back behind your shoulder as a wail goes up carrying her father’s name; ‘Lord Dustan!’ 

“What is all that?” Jazlene whines, “as if it isn’t enough with the rain and the winds. It is summer!” 

“It’s always summer in Debray, darling,” Rezlyn scoffs, “otherwise I’d have never married your father. Pray you don’t hook yourself a winter lord.” 

You peek over your shoulder as you stand near the door, in your vigil, awaiting your next order. You face the ladies again as the elder continues to feast and the younger fusses over her thick brows. You scrunch your lips back and forth, a habit that often has your jaw aching. 

Jazlene turns to narrow her eyes at you, “what is it then? What has you making faces?” 

You bow your head, appeasing her ego, “my lady, there were men coming. A party approaching from the north.” 

“There are always men,” she shakes her head, “who was it then? Anyone I should wear silk for?” 

Her mother laughs, “I warn you, daughter, that trite tongue will not endear any husband.” 

“I do not know, lady,” you answer. 

“Ugh, useless, must I work as my own handmaid?” Jazlene tisks, “come, pin my hair. Merinda find me a gown. Mother... wipe the dribble from your chin.” 

“Eh, watch yourself,” Lady Rezlyn rises and wipes her lips with her sleeve. She wears muslin in a dark shade of burgundy, embroidered with little copper finches. “Or hope you marry above me before you lash that tongue at me.” 

Jazlene merely trills with laughter. You take the pins and work at twisting her fine curls into place. Merinda brings to her a dress of teal satin and is promptly shooed away, “something pink. It brings out my bosom.” 

You ignore her bawdy jest as her mother harrumphs. You work in quiet tandem with the other handmaid. You add a touch of paint to the lady’s cheeks and kohl around her eyes. You tint her lips with pigment and she pushes out her lips at the mirror. You help Merinda dress her, pulling the noble daughter’s corset tight enough to leave her lightheaded. 

The pair of ladies, elder and younger, leave the chamber with you at their skirt tails. They sweep through the corridors with chins up. They are queens in their own minds. Their fine dresses and sparkling gems are untouched by the disparity of war. The lives lost are squares on a game board, tawdry talk for men in their studies. 

“Lord Dustan,” Lady Rezlyn mimics the earlier call for the lord of the castle, “my husband. Dear, dear husband!” 

The women go to the banister and look down upon the great hall as the flurry continues below. You and Merinda loom behind, not daring to stand at a level with the pompous nobles. You have never volunteered yourself for their impetuous lashings. 

“Woman!” Dustan booms back up, “do not trouble me now.” 

“Oh, has another lord come? Perhaps a suitor for our lovely daughter--” 

“Cease!” The duke demands hotly, “now is not the time for womanly games.” 

“Tell me it true, husband, she will be an old maid before you find a suiting son-in-law--” 

“Go away to your chambers. Now. The men who come are not to be trifled with and you lot do trifle overly much!” 

“Bah! Oh do not be so uncouth!” Rezlyn decries. 

“Father, please, is it a husband?” 

“Go before I send my guards up to put you away like thieves in a dungeon. Hear me when I warn you that this does not concern you. Not as yet,” Dustan snarls, “you would spoil this war with your puny concerns.” 

“Ugh,” his wife puts her hand to her forehead, “he does tax me. All I ask of him is to take care of us, daughter. As any husband should.” 

“I should have your lips sewn shut!” Dustan rebukes hotly, “be gone before I find a tailor.” 

The women share an aghast look. The turn back to flutter away in their skirts. You and Merinda follow them to the drawing room, closing them in as they fall onto the velvet cushions. Jazlene reclines dramatically on the chaise as her mouth mopes on a sofa. 

“Shall I be alone forever, mother?” Jazlene snivels, “why won’t he let me marry?” 

“He only wants to find the right man, that is all, darling,” Rezlyn coaxes. “He is overprotective and that is good for it means he will find a husband for you with a similar bearing.” 

“Such sweet words cannot convince me. He punishes me. When all my lady friends have wed and borne a whelp or two, I remain with the dust and stone.” 

“Do not be theatrical,” Rezlyn girds, “you are silly.” 

“I am not silly, mother. I am afraid. I am twenty and three and I have no suitor. I have only a war butchering any man who might have my hand. Why must this go on? Why must I suffer for the gripes of stubborn kings.” 

“We cannot fear. This war will be won and you will have a knight for a husband. Isn’t that better? To have a warrior you can be proud of than some bookish lord in his tower?” Rezlyn stands and moves to sit with her daughter, petting her as she cooes, “oh my beautiful, no man can resist you. You will see.” 

⚔️

Some hours pass with the restless women, pacing and chattering, about careless things beyond marriage and war. Like needlework and a banquet that should be had upon the truce. Would that the day would come sooner. 

You and Merinda stifle yawns that pass between you. The act is contagious as you stand in the tedium of the wealthy and wait for a duty to be called upon you. The hours you spend watching the women preen and swoon make you envy the stable boys and the shit shovelers. 

The noise beyond those walls continues. You heard the moat open and the clopping hooves of horses, even the clatter of carts. The voices had since hushed but footfalls carried back and forth. The wordless activity betrays an air of impatience, almost of nervousness. As the ladies within mirror the sentiment. 

Finally, as the windows darken and the candles burn brighter, a knock shakes the door. The ladies snap their heads around. Merinda is asleep on her feet as you move first. You open to a man in grey and black waits on the other side. He is not Lord Dustan’s. 

“The duchess and her daughter,” he garbles through a mouth that sounds full of salt. 

You dip your head and look to the ladies in question. There is a tension, of unease, of unknowing, of excitement turned to dread. This is not as it has been. There is not call to the dinner table. There is no buoyant introduction of a lord Dustan met as a young scamp. There is silence and fear. Has someone died? Has a battle been lost? 

The women emerge and greet the man with niceties and tight-lipped simpers. He does not pay them heed as you and Merinda exchange looks. You trail after the ladies but the man stops. He turns back, a hand on the pommel at his waist, and sneers, a furrow in his brow. 

“One of ya,” he grits. 

Jazlene says your name. She must’ve noticed Merinda swaying on her feet. If she even cares so much about a maid. You keep your head down and follow as they press on. Down the corridor and around the duke’s study, recently deemed his war room. You’ve never been within. It is not the domain of women. 

The grey and black soldier thumps on the door. Mother and daughter clasp hands. Even they can sense the unusual frigidity. The door opens from within. It is Lord Dustan. He wears a serious look on his lined face. The ladies are beckoned in and the soldier nudges you after them as you hesitate. 

Lanterns light the space from the desk at the rear of the chamber. The large table draped in maps, wooden horses, and little wooden pucks stands central on a thick rug. A figure stands behind it, head down as his burly and broad silhouette seems to sop up the shadows. 

The ladies follow the duke to stand across from the man. His head is down as he slides a horse along a road on the map. He stops it and grips it tight. He looks up and the lantern light dances on his features. You suck in a breath, as the rest do, stunned by his appearance. 

His hair is white, his eyes are a goldish yellow, pupils deep pools of black, and his square jaw is just as thick as the rest of him. You have never seen a man like him before, but you have heard of one. Of him. King Geralt of Rivia. 

You stand in similar confusion to the ladies. Their silent confoundment is broken by Duke Dustan as he nears the table. He sniffs and presses his fingers to the table top. 

“Your highness, my wife, Lady Rezlyn, and my daughter, Lady Jazlene,” he introduces. 

The women glance at each other then curtsy to the white king. He watches them dully. You fold your hands, taking it in curiously. It is rather something to witness the scene. You are so unimportant as to not be a part of it. 

“Your highness,” the recite, “it is...” 

“An honour,” Dustan finishes for them, “of course it is. We fondly welcome you and your allyship. We hope that we will be essential in ending this war. In helping you attain the peace you have so valiantly fought for--” 

The king raises his hand to silence the lord. You can’t help but quork your head. Allyship? But King Geralt, he is of Rivia, he is of the hinterland, he is the one who invaded the summer country and bid it his own. He is the foe. That is what they told you. 

“Enough...” the king speaks in a silty tone that scrapes in his throat. His eyes wander over the women and narrow. You wince as your own meet his golden irises and you shy away, putting your chin to your chest. That’s a mistake. “...words.” He slaps his hand down, “you do not win wars with words.” 

“Yes, your highness, you are correct. I know it well. It is why I invited you here. It is the very reason I made my entreaty. You have my men, they will win this war for you.” 

The king is hardly impressed by the fact. He looks back to the table and moves the horse further before turning it back. He knocks it over and stands completely straight. 

“And the daughter of Debray, your highness. To have a wife of summer’s blood, men will bend the knee. If you show them you do not mean to eradicate but to join with them,” Dustan moves to stand closer to his daughter, “isn’t she a fine queen for a fine kingdom?” 

Jazlene swoons and falls against her father. She’s fainted. Rezlyn grabs onto her other shoulder and you peek up at the chaotic scene. You come forward to help, snatching a pillow from the single couch, and you place it under Jazlene’s head as they lay her down on the floor. 

A shadow shifts as Dustan and Rezlyn fuss over their daughter, fanning and calling to her. You look up as darkness clusters over you. You see the king staring down at the scene. No, not them. He staring at you. Before he can reprimand you, you put your head down. 

You must quit that lest you find yourself at the wrong end of a switch. 

[chrisevansonly]

𝐬𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐦𝐞 | 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐫𝐜

✯social media au

✯charles leclerc x female reader

✯nothing beats the love of a father <3

✯not requested just felt like getting another little something out, im working on some writing prompts and fics as well so i hope they come out soon🩷

ynleclerc

liked by charles_leclerc, francisca.cgomes, leclerc_pascale and 342,000 others

Alia & Mommy day, just missing daddy🩷

tagged charles_leclerc

see 76,000 comments

username she’s so precious 😭

username i need to know where the blonde genes come from

>ynleclerc my mom!!🥰

leclerc_pascale trop mignonne❤️❤️

>ynleclerc 😘😘

francisca.cgomes the cutest momma and daughter duo

>ynleclerc see you this weekend auntie kika!!

charles_leclerc my girls, i miss you both so much🙁

>ynleclerc we miss you more…see you soon my love❤️

username are we getting alia in the paddock content?👀

liked by ynleclerc

ynleclerc added to their story!

*comments disabled*

charles_leclerc

liked by scuderiaferrari, ynleclerc, carlossainz55 and 768,000 others

then and now, please stop growing so fast mon petit fleur😘

tagged ynleclerc

see 86,000 comments

username she’s growing up so fast😭

username the real og’s remember baby alia

ynleclerc look at her!! she loves the track as much as you char❤️

>charles_leclerc time to put her in karting?

>ynleclerc we’ll talk…..

username alia for the win!!

carlossainz55 okay now bring her over to me, it’s time for our tea party

>ynleclerc that’s why she keeps saying ‘tea with coco’ 😂

>username alia calls carlos coco😭😭

>landonorris why don’t i have a cute nickname😃

scuderiaferrari she’s our favourite guest❤️❤️

wagsofF1

liked by username, F1gossip, paddock news and 4,000 others

charles watching his wife and daughter at his interview in the fanzone today, and then as soon as Alia got fussy and they began to walk away he was super serious, keeping his eye on them. at one point a few fans got a bit too excited and you should have SEEN how upset he was, he left the stage and made sure security attended to his family until he could get to them and make sure they were safe.

remember they are people too and there is no excuse for the behaviour shown today towards the leclerc family.

see 500 comments

username those fans need to a grip

username he’s so protective of his girls :(

username Alia was crying and you could tell Y/N was getting anxious, charles was so quick to jump in and make sure they were safe

username best dad of the year award goes to charles fr

username anyone who tried to scare y/n and alia today aren’t real fans.

username i hope they’re all ashamed of themselves

ynleclerc

liked by charles_leclerc, lilyhme, carla.brocker and 435,000 others

the worlds best father and husband, thank you for loving and keeping Alia and I safe❤️

tagged charles_leclerc

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charles_leclerc

liked by arthur_leclerc, ynleclerc, apmmonaco and 657,000 others

you’ll always be safe with me❤️

tagged ynleclerc

see 600 comments

arthur_leclerc love you guys❤️

carlossainz55 ❤️

ynleclerc we love you so much char, never forget that

>charles_leclerc nothing like that will ever happen again.

carla.brocker looking forward to giving you guys big big hugs❤️

*comments on this post have been limited*

ynleclerc added to their story!

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ynleclerc

liked by charles_leclerc, scuderiaferrari, leclerc_pascale and 536,000 others

I know we weren’t there to watch in person like we originally planned but we are so proud of you honey! I know Alia was happy to see you when you got home, I swear you can tire her out better than me most days. we love you so much and can’t wait to see you keep winning❤️

tagged charles_leclerc

see 56,000 comments

username YAY CHARLES!

username i still feel so upset that y/n and alia left the race because of stupid fans☹️

username our favourite family!!

charles_leclerc I love you both so much, this win was for you❤️

liked by ynleclerc

scuderiaferrari sending hugs to you all, hope to see you again someday soon❤️

>ynleclerc you can count on it☺️

[gloomwitchwrites]

Hiii, how about our fav 141 men with to a very clumsy reader? Like e.g. I'm someone who keeps accidentally bumping into people while walking because apparently I can't walk a straight line???

Is that something you'd write?:3

Is this something I'd write? Absolutely. This prompt is so cute and the perfect opportunity to write a few drabbles. Thank you for sending it in, and thank you for your patience as I work through all the requests.

Find the Imagines & What If Masterlist HERE

Content & Warnings: hurt/comfort, fluff, canon-typical cursing

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

John Price:

“I’m doing it.”

“No. You’re not.”

You raise the hammer.

“Put it down,” says Price pointing at the ground.

“I’m fully capable.”

“Yes,” admits Price, slowly. “But you always hurt yourself.”

Your husband isn’t wrong. Everything you’ve ever hung on the walls has resulted in a throbbing thumb.

“It’ll be different this time.”

Price shrugs. “Go on then.”

With tongue between teeth, you come down on the nail, striking thumb instead of metal. You turn to him, tears in your eyes.

“Fucking hell,” he mutters. “Come here.”

“Don’t say ‘I told you so.’”

“Wouldn’t dare,” laughs Price, cradling your hand.

Simon "Ghost" Riley:

“We need to—”

“The milk—”

“It’s—”

Simon tugs you to the right and you growl in frustration. “Stop pulling on me.”

Simon glances down and you know he’s smirking behind the black balaclava. “You don’t know how to walk in a straight fucking line.”

“What?”

He nods toward an elderly couple. “Nearly ran them down, love.”

You roll your eyes. You’re yanked backward against Simon’s chest. He places both hands on either side of you against the cart.

“Gotta protect the elderly.”

“Fuck off,” you mutter.

Simon presses his lips to the top of your head, grinning.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick:

“Let me see, love.”

“It doesn’t hurt.”

Kyle grabs your wrist and inspects the nasty slice. You were in the kitchen preparing dinner and the knife slipped.

“At least the knife wasn’t dull,” murmurs Kyle as he rinses the wound under cold water. He gently washes it with soap, drying it afterward.

“You need to be more careful,” he says softly.

“You say that every time.”

“I mean it every time. I’m not interested in taking you to the hospital.”

Kyle rotates your wrist, covering the wound with a bandage, and places a soft kiss against the wrappings.

“All done.”

John "Soap" MacTavish:

“Can we—”

“Nope,” says John, shaking his head. “Focus.” He places his hands on your shoulders, urging you forward.

“You don’t need to do that.”

John twists you to the side as you almost collide with an antique tea set.

“Oh, aye. I do,” he mutters, gaze darting everywhere, looking for the next victim.

You’re the hazard. Last time the two of you went antique shopping, John had to hand over most of his cash because you kept knocking things over.

“They pack these places on purpose.”

He kisses the top of your head. “No. It’s just you, love.”

taglist:

@glassgulls @km-ffluv @glitterypirateduck @spicyspicyliving @tiredmetalenthusiast @childofyuggoth @coffeecaketornado @aykxz98 @kayden666 @36namey @pearljamislife @miss-mistinguett @keiva1000 @cherryofdeath @pertinentpostmortem @enfppuff @berarenado @saoirse06 @ninman82 @no-oneelsebutnsu @thewulf @hayleybarnesx @lxblm @ferns-fics @ooldcardigan @beebeechaos @enarien @sw33tsnow @kessi-21 @makayla-666 @lifes-project @burn1ngw00d @heeheehoohoohahahihi @lulurubberduckie @ravenpoe67 @jade1605 @miaraei @contractedcriteria @lovely-ateez @gingergirl06 @kidd3ath @leed-bbg @blackhawkfanatic @suhmie

[folkwhoredoll]

library affections - rafe cameron x fem!reader

pairing: rafe cameron x fem!reader

synopsis: there are two things that you love in this world; rafe and books

word count: 0.9k

warnings/tags: none, just fluff with sweet boyfriend!rafe

a/n: hi everyone! i don't think i can ever thank you all enough for your support in all of my works :< tbh i did not expect to gain so much interaction because this blog is still relatively new but here you all are and i appreciate each and every one of you <3 this fic is another fluff boyfriend!rafe fic (is it obvious that i like fluff so much lmao) and i've written this a while ago. i hope you'll like this one! if you have a request or prompt in mind, feel free to send me a message. happy reading!

masterlist

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Being a regular visitor at the Camerons' estate has familiarized you with every corner of the house. Now, you have memorized every room and decoration, immediately spotting whatever is newly added. The Camerons didn't mind your presence, with your family being a close friend of theirs. Thus, it was no surprise that you ended up dating the one and only son of Ward Cameron.

With his father and stepmother often occupied and his sisters frequently out with friends, you and Rafe usually find yourselves with the house to yourselves, save for the occasional presence of the household staff. Yet, you've never minded.

Today follows a similar pattern. Ward left for a morning meeting, Wheezie went to school, and Sarah departed at noon to join John B's group. Surprisingly, even Rafe isn't home, having agreed to a golf outing with Topper and Kelce. Although he initially invited you to join, you declined, preferring to avoid the "boy talk" and the scorching sun. Thus, you find yourself waiting for Rafe in the living room, idly scrolling through your phone.

It's been around two in the afternoon when you got bored, sighing and deciding to stand up to walk around the house. Your feet already know where you're going when you face the familiar entrance to the Camerons' Library.

This room is your most loved spot in the whole estate, apart from Rafe's room. The vast shelves of bright book covers from different times always amaze you. If you could, you'd live in this room. Rafe has found you exploring this library countless times; even his sisters know it's the first place to check when you're not around the house.

Quickly scanning the shelves for a book, you settled upon a fantasy fiction novel, clutching the book as you made your way to a couch by the window. The first few chapters had you hooked immediately, eyes rapidly passing through every word as you moved chapter by chapter. The book was so good that it blanked your other senses, making you jump when you suddenly heard Rafe's voice.

"I knew you'd be here." He smirked, still in his golfing outfit, as he stood over you.

"Hi, Rafe." You smiled up at him, putting the book down on your lap. "How's golfing?"

Rafe plopped beside you, stretching his legs and putting an arm around your shoulder. "It was good. I got bored with Top's whining about his break-up with Sarah, so I left."

You chuckled when you saw his eyes roll, a dramatic sigh escaping his lips. "They were together for a long time. You can't blame him."

"I guess." He shrugged before flashing you a flirty grin. "But I also want to spend time with my girl."

You snorted. "Yeah, okay."

"What? I do! I feel guilty about leaving you here alone." He defended.

"I don't mind, Rafe." You spoke.

"Hm. I bet you don't. But still."

You raised your brows, silently urging him to explain what he meant.

"I just mean that you were too distracted by that book, baby. I could've been an intruder, but you wouldn't even know. What is that about anyway?"

Your eyes lit up at his question; you've always loved speaking about the books you've read. And Rafe loved hearing you talk, even if he's mostly confused.

"I just started reading it, so I don't really know what it's about yet, but there's this girl, and she has electricity powers!" You started excitedly.

Rafe listened intently. He couldn't help but feel affection for you, marveling at how your eyes sparkled with passion for the story. Despite the chaotic world outside, at this moment, it was just the two of you, surrounded by the tranquility of the library.

As you continued to talk, Rafe's mind wandered, reflecting on how much you meant to him. You were the one person who could effortlessly penetrate his tough exterior, revealing the softer, more vulnerable side of him that he often kept hidden from the world. He felt at ease with you, free to be himself without fear of judgment or ridicule.

Lost in his thoughts, Rafe reached out, gently tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. You paused mid-sentence, startled by the sudden touch, before leaning into his hand, relishing the warmth of his touch.

"Hey, what's wrong?" you asked, concern lacing your voice as you noticed the distant look in his eyes.

Rafe shook his head, a small smile playing on his lips. "Nothing, I'm just... happy. Happy to be here with you."

A soft blush colored your cheeks as you met his gaze, feeling the warmth spread through your chest. At that moment, surrounded by the scent of old books and the soft glow of sunlight filtering through the window, you couldn't imagine being anywhere else.

Leaning in, Rafe pressed a tender kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering for a moment before pulling away. "I love you," he whispered, his voice barely above a whisper but filled with sincerity.

"I love you too," you replied, your heart swelling with emotion as you returned his affectionate gaze.

With a contented sigh, Rafe settled back against the couch, pulling you closer until you were nestled against his side. Together, you sat in comfortable silence, basking in the simple pleasure of each other's company.

At that moment, surrounded by the familiar comforts of the library, you knew that no matter what the future held, as long as you had each other, everything would be okay.

[mviswidow]

in search of silence

Eloise Bridgerton x Reader

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings: r is in an abusive marriage, angst, el to the rescue, some fluff at the end

Summary: Eloise and R are childhood best friends. When a new season begins, they find themselves reunited for the first time since R has entered her marriage that was set up by her parents.

Prompt: could i request a fic with childhood bestfriends eloise bridgerton x f!reader. eloise and reader stopped talking to each other as often because reader got married and one day eloise catches reader’s husband being mean to her (this can be physically or verbally) and eloise defends reader and they rekindle their friendship/old feelings for each other.

sidenote, ive always loved your mcu women fics and im SO glad you’re taking requests for eloise now 😭😭🫶

A/N: thank you anon!! for both the request and the compliment. i love eloise sm this was so fun to write

Muffled shouting stole Eloise’s attention when she escaped from the ballroom of this week's ball that she had been forced to attend with her family. She hadn’t wandered far enough to no longer be able to hear the string quartet playing, but the sound of a deep voice yelling angrily was hard to miss as she passed what she assumed was a drawing room.

Though Eloise knew she should not eavesdrop, she found herself unable to mind her business and stopped in her tracks, gravitating closer to the commotion.

--

“I am through with you,” Your husband shouted, face red with rage.

The moment his hand had clasped forcefully around your wrist to drag you into a room with him earlier, you knew what was coming for you.

“James, please - someone will hear,” you responded in a hushed voice, thoroughly embarrassed at the thought.

“Let them! Everyone should know the bitch of a wife you are,” he spat.

You knew better than to talk back to him, and yet, “I’ve done nothing to you at all! You’ve no reason to -”

A heavy-handed slap to your face was sure to silence you. You could feel the blood rushing to your cheek, and your hand rose shakily to cradle the side of your face. Hot tears brimmed your eyes as you breathed deeply to steady yourself.

“I’m leaving.”

“Please -” you forced yourself to say, a feeble attempt to calm him down, lest his temper worsen on his way home.

“Enough from you! I-”

The door burst open and you felt as if your heart was about to leap out of your chest.

You were astounded to see Eloise standing in the doorway, her lips in a tight line. It had been long since you’d seen her last. She was beautiful, as always. For a moment you forgot your present situation until you noted the fire in her eyes. She was furious, but she kept herself composed, “Is everything alright in here? I heard quite the commotion from outside as I was passing by.”

“We are quite fine.” He turned back to you and after a moment, he spoke, “I’ll send the carriage back around for you once I arrive home. I cannot stand the sight of you at present.”

“Lady Bridgerton,” he said curtly. Eloise barely had time to register the fact that James was walking towards her and stepped out of his way just in time.

“Lord Anderson,” she managed out, deciding to forgo her polite curtsy. She had deemed that he did not deserve it.

You both jumped at the sound of the door slamming upon his exit.

Her head felt as if it was spinning. She’d recognized your voice from outside the instant you spoke. The thought of this being the reality of the marriage your parents had arranged for you devastated her. She wouldn’t let herself imagine how horrid it was for you when you were actually at home.

Your cheek still burned from being slapped and there was no doubt in your mind about it being tinged pink. You were beyond mortified and the relief of James finally having left had tears falling down your face rapidly.

As much as you wanted to take in Eloise, who you hadn’t had a moment alone with since last season, you were lost in your mind. You dreaded your impending arrival back home and prayed that your husband would be fast asleep.

After a few more seconds you pried your eyes away from the bookcase you had been staring at and settled your gaze on Eloise.

She somehow looked more stunning than you had remembered her to be and your heart squeezed painfully. Her hair curled carefully over her shoulders in such a familiar way and it reminded you of how you used to twirl her curls in your fingers whenever she would rest her head in your lap.

The Bridgerton made her way over to you carefully. The concern on her face was evident and you knew by the way her eyebrows were crinkling together that she had much to say.

She stopped when she was just a few feet in front of you. For once, she seemed unable to form a proper sentence.

You were sure she couldn’t find the right words. You weren’t sure how you should navigate this situation yourself, but you had had enough of the silence, “I’m sorry you had to hear all of that.”

Eloise shook her head immediately, “You have nothing to be apologizing for.”

There was another lull of silence. All either of you could do was look into each other’s eyes. Hers looked so sad. How you hated to see them so.

“I assure you I am quite alright.”

“There is no use in lying to me, Y/n/n.”

Your bottom lip trembles at the familiar nickname and she hurries closer, engulfing you in a hug.

She felt you trembling as she held you against her. “I’m here,” she whispered, arms wrapped tightly around you.

It was not long before sobs racked your body and all she could do was rub your back and occasionally give you a few words of reassurance. Eloise felt her heart splitting into pieces the longer you cried.

You were certain that you would give anything to stay in her arms forever. There was nowhere in the world where you felt safer. Her chest radiated warmth and you took comfort in the very familiar scent of her perfume.

Once you’ve calmed slightly, you apologize again, “I’ve missed you terribly. And I have been the furthest thing from a friend to you. I’ve allowed James to drive the people closest to me out of my life and I won't stand for it any longer.”

“I can’t have you getting in trouble because of me,” she shook her head.

“Oh, hush, El,” you chuckled wetly. “I’ve been in trouble with my Mama countless times because of you.”

She knew you were joking to make light of the situation, but she found nothing humorous about it. Especially not as she reached up to wipe away the tears on your face.

“How long has it been this way?” she inquired, speaking with a gentle voice.

“A handful of months. He’s become rather frustrated by the fact that I have yet to produce an heir for him and his displeasure with me grows stronger by the second.”

Eloise’s face scrunched in indignation, “That is ridiculous.”

“It’s fair enough - that is why he was searching for a wife in the first place.”

“It’s unacceptable behavior from him regardless of that fact,” she was quick to rebuke. She took your hand in her own and squeezed gently. The feel of your skin against hers made her heart race.

“I’d like to get out of the house tomorrow. Do you think your mother should have my head if I busied you the whole day?”

“Not at all. She’s missed you quite a lot as well,” Eloise smiled.

Your heart fluttered at the admittance.

“Will you be okay tonight?”

“I will. I’m sure he’ll drink himself to sleep the second he arrives home.”

You could tell Eloise didn’t like the sound of that, but she said nothing.

She was grateful that you wanted to spend the day with her tomorrow, not only because she would be eager to see how you were but also because she’d missed your company so very much.

--

Almost two fortnights later, you’re riding in a carriage to a ball with your husband sitting across from you. He grows tired of waiting for you to finally come to be with child. Intercourse with him is nauseating and at this point, you’re praying that your courses don’t come next month for a multitude of reasons.

The ride is sour, as you’ve just had a nasty argument, ending in you being pushed into a table. Your right arm ached still, but you were sure that nothing was broken.

You were excited to escape from your husband and find your dear Eloise the moment the opportunity arose. Your feelings for her made you ever so giddy when you were around her. You felt almost childish at your eagerness to leave your husband and find your friend, but you had been swept into this marriage on your just first season out, which was only last year. It barely gave you any time to enjoy balls with her without courting.

Running around with Eloise at the last ball felt so normal, oddly enough. It was incredibly refreshing to spend the better part of the evening with her, sipping on champagne and cracking jokes. Even though you knew it was slightly improper as you were now married and should have been at your husband’s side, listening to him boast about his fortune and how impatient he was to have an heir with whoever would listen, you couldn’t bring yourself to care. It did anger him, however. You had learned so after the last ball when he reprimanded you for almost half of an hour about your behavior as if you were his child and not his wife.

You’d decided to behave for the first hour, at least. It frustrated you so to listen to James drone on to his acquaintances, but you knew it was what needed to be done since he was already on edge from his earlier outburst.

The Bridgertons arrived after you, and you spotted Eloise immediately. You couldn’t help the smile that grew on your face when you saw the way her eyes lit up when she caught sight of you.

You squeezed James’ arm absentmindedly out of the excitement you felt. When he looked down at you, you played it off by giving him a look that should have been directed toward Eloise.

That had seemed to satisfy him well enough and he returned to his conversation, allowing you to return to observing your favorite Bridgerton from afar.

Eloise’s hair cascaded over one of her shoulders and two strands of soft curls beautifully framed the sides of her face. Her dress was blue, as it usually was, and it was embellished with embroidered flowers.

You could hardly peel your eyes away from her, but you forced yourself to redirect your attention to your husband once more.

After what you deemed an appropriate amount of time, you excused yourself to find more pleasant company.

It seemed as if you had run into almost every Bridgerton before her, though. You greeted all three of her present brothers before finding Violet and Agatha in conversation and curtsying to both. Violet even extended a hand to squeeze yours for a moment, happy to see you.

As soon as you began a conversation with her and Lady Danbury, you were accosted by Eloise, who gripped your arm excitedly. You winced briefly, now bruised from your earlier encounter with the table of your drawing room.

You relaxed your expression and the pinch in your brow was gone once it settled in that you were in Eloise’s presence, she still noticed your discomfort despite your futile efforts to mask it and found herself glancing down at your arm.

Her nostrils flared at what she saw, she had half the mind to find Lord Anderson at that moment, but she looked back up to you and saw the bright grin on your face and melted, a smile of her own growing quickly.

She swiftly looped her arm through yours and began to pull you away, wanting you to herself, “If you don’t mind, I’m going to steal Lady Anderson away. I’ve hardly had any time with her all week.”

The older women chuckled and shook their heads, recognizing this familiar routine that the two of you had been accustomed to last year.

“Have a nice time ladies,” Violet smiled, not even bothering to remind Eloise to attempt to fill a few spots on her dance card. She knew how the girl had missed you, and didn’t have it in her to task force her daughter away from you. Violet rather appreciated how cheerful Eloise happened to get whenever you were around, especially at balls, where genuine smiles from the young lady were scarce.

Eloise guided you to a corner of the ballroom, not failing to make a stop at the refreshment table and hand you a lemonade. You were relieved to be by her side at last. There was nothing you had desired more in the past week, where you had only been able to promenade with her once, as James had been irritable.

The longer you were around her, the more you felt the pressure on your chest relieve itself. You were able to breathe so easily around Eloise. You suddenly became aware of the fact that her thumb was passively rubbing your arm and you had to blink a few times, not sure if you were dreaming it.

You ached for her to touch you more. You’d once attempted to imagine that your husband’s hands were hers, but they were far too rough, and you gave up quickly.

Your mind wandered for a moment, but before it could stray too far, you snapped yourself out of it.

“You’re awfully quiet tonight,” you pointed out, turning your head towards your best friend. It was quite unlike her.

She tilted her head in a shrug, “You seem as though you could use a little quiet.”

“You know me far too well, Eloise,” a smile returned to your lips, something she never failed to do, and you shook your head. “But please, if there’s anyone I’d like to hear ramble, it is always you.”

Eloise scoffed in mock offense, “I do not ramble.”

“You do, too,” you teased. “I like it.”

She chortles in response and the two of you hold eye contact. She looks at you with a fondness that you recognize yourself often directing toward her.

Eloise breaks it for a short moment to glance down at your lips.

When she does it once more, you’re suddenly overtaken by instinct and put your lemonade on a serving tray, taking hers and doing the same.

“What-”

Eloise is interrupted by you taking her gloved hand in your own and dragging her out of the ballroom. She doesn’t miss the way you check over your shoulder for your husband, who is heavily occupied, drinking and joking happily with his friends.

You begin making your way into the gardens when you hear Eloise chirp up from behind you.

“We shouldn’t be out here,” she says, not quite like she means it.

You roll your eyes, “Then it’s a good thing you’ve never cared for rules, isn’t it?”

“I suppose so,” she couldn’t be offended, it was true, and it was exhilarating to be truly alone with you for the first time in such a long while.

You stopped when you’d reached a dead end and you were sure you were not only alone but completely hidden from anyone looking outside.

Eloise tried to stop her mind from racing. She couldn’t be sure of why you had pulled her out of the ballroom. She waited with bated breath to find out, trying to suppress the excitement she felt. You could just be in search of fresh air, or actual silence, which required you to be far enough to hear the music no longer.

Your breathing quickened as you stood in front of her. She took note of it, and against her better judgment, let her eyes flicker to your chest. Then up to your lips, which were parted slightly. Her eyes lingered, before finally meeting your own.

While you badly wanted to tell her everything on your mind, you could hardly form a proper sentence, “El…”

You could hear her breath, ragged from nerves as she took a step closer to you.

There was a question in your eyes. You were grateful that you did not have to utter it. She knew.

She told you that she knew with the glassy nature of her eyes, the parting of her mouth, and her breath fanning across your face as she brought herself closer.

You closed the distance, pressing your lips to Eloise’s. The gentle kiss did not take long to turn eager, almost desperate, both of you feeling free from the sole secret you had kept from each other.

Her lips were soft and warm. They were everything you had dreamed of.

You lost yourself in Eloise, your hands finding their way to her jaw. Your body felt as if it was being lit from the inside when she pressed you into her with a firm hand at the small of your back. Your head almost spun from the contact of her chest against your own.

Despite not wanting to, you pulled away the slightest bit to catch your breath. You did not miss the way she chased your lips.

She had never looked more beautiful. Your heart swelled as she began to smile, which turned into a breathy chuckle.

You shook your head as you joined her with a giggle and let your arms wrap around your neck, hugging her tightly.

“I love you, El. So much,” you whispered.

You felt her breath hitch and her arms tightened around your waist, “I love you too. So very much. It pains me so to watch you from across a ballroom when I want nothing more than to be by your side.”

All of a sudden, your reality came flooding back to you.

“You deserve so much more than that brute that calls himself your husband. He should be honored to spend the time with you that he does. He is a fool for not seeing how precious you are.”

Tears welled in your eyes as she spoke, “I wish I had never married, El. I’m miserable.”

“I know. I’m not sure how much peace this brings you, but you should know that I am here for you, at any time of day or night. You could barge into the Bridgerton house in the late hours of the night and I shall be ready to dissolve your worries with my charming wits and whatever biscuits we can find in the kitchens.”

You found yourself laughing, as you always did in Eloise’s presence, “Thank you.”

“It is my pleasure,” her lips quirked up.

“What are we to do now? About us, I mean.”

“We’re going to have to find a way to get you out of that house of yours however often we can. And if Lord Anderson lays another finger on you I will sic my entire family and Lady Danbury on him. We’ll see how he likes that.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“I’d say I’m known for being ridiculous, you shouldn’t be surprised,” she raised a brow playfully before looking over her shoulder. “I highly doubt anyone is missing us in there…”

“What might you be suggesting, Miss Eloise,” you ask, feigning innocence.

“I think you know quite well what I suggest.”

[moralesmilesanhour]

Hello!!! How are you? I’ve been a follower for the past few days and was wondering if I could request something.

I was hoping to request a fic or like give you a prompt for something for miles42 × femreader

So it goes like this- yk those super corny reads that are like the reader's pinning for miles and like sometimes miles finds them annoying but in a cute way but he don't know that her yk? So he's talking to his homeboys about her, talm about some how she's so "annoying, a nuisance" and guess who's behind the wall listening? The reader herself.

So this goes one of two ways- she either matches up there, confronts him. And she's like "flipping fine, if that's how you feel then lemme get out of ur way- you won't hear a peep from me" and she like just ignores him and he learns how he feels about her, sees how his life is so boring without her and all that- goes to apologize happy ending..

Option number 2: silent treatment. Like just slowly drifting away until he once again comes to the realization that he needs her and all that happy ending yay!

Feel free to do whatever you want with this but I'm thinking of sending the same request to other authors to see what they come up with cause everyone has a style k? And i just love studying them and reading them cause evervtime- no matter how similar the prompt is- they always manage to invoke different feelings with in me.

Anyway- have fun doing this- but remember you don't have to cause this is kinda too much and I'm sorry😓

"I want my pen back."

wc: >1,200 A/N: okay so i got a bit carried away...this is a long one. (yes I am using this as an excuse to try out the gradient thing) thank you anon for this fun request! i also rlly like ur reasoning behind it and i hope i was able to do this prompt some type of justice lol

The gel pen clattered to the ground.

“I got it,” you said, grinning at Miles. You squat to grab it before the boy can act to get it himself, and he sighs as you hand it to him.

“Thanks.”

Miles turned the pen every which way between his fingers.

You had gifted it to him on the first day of school, with that same expectant grin. The little cartoon dogs that surrounded the perimeter had begun to fade with use because – admittedly – it had actually turned out to be a good ass pen.

He’d thought initially that you were just being nice; maybe you were handing shit out to everyone because it was the first day, understandable. 

But then, it was highlighters (the erasable ones).

Pink sticky-notes on his locker, telling him to have a nice day with the ‘i’s dotted with hearts.

A new sketchbook for Secret Santa.

Miles’ pencil case had rapidly gotten bulkier, and when you rushed to grab a seat next to him during the one class without assigned seats, it finally clicked.

You were trying to get his attention. And he wasn’t sure what would happen if you got it.

“I like the new braids.”

He was snapped out of his thoughts, and turned to you.

“Huh?”

“The braids,” you laughed. “I like the pattern. Who did ‘em for you?”

A tiny smirk ghosted the boy’s lips.

“My mom. Just like the last time you asked me.”

He ran a hand instinctively over the meandering zig-zag pattern that his cornrows had been sectioned into. Miles looked at you from his periphery; you were still staring. 

“Bitch, just ask him out already!”

Your friend smacked the back of your shoulder as the two of you took your sweet time getting back to your lockers.

“Alright, today, I swear,” you said, hand over your heart for emphasis.

A beat of silence passes. “But what if he says no?” 

She groaned.

“Then he says no, and you can save your money. But say something, it’s getting embarrassing.”

Your friends’ encouragement landed you here, around the corner of a building where Miles and a gaggle of other boys from your homeroom were bursting into raucous laughter.

“Yo, why you ain’t bag her yet? She wants you bad,” one boy said.

Unsure if the ‘she’ in question was you, you stay where you are and keep listening.

“I dunno, she kinda annoying,”

Miles’ low voice makes your ears perk up.

“One day she gon’ run outta things to say about my hair, she has to!”

…Oh.

The buoyant feeling in your chest sinks as the group erupts into another laughing fit. If you asked him out now, you’d hear about it for the rest of the year.

Shoving your phone into your pocket, you turn back the way you came. 

Miles knew something was off when you sat down the next morning without a word. 

“You good?” he asked.

You glanced at him, then nodded before going back to playing with the beads in your hair. The excruciating silence stretched on for almost the entirety of class before it was broken again.

“Do you…wanna help me with my homework? I’ll really let you, this time.”

You raised an eyebrow.

“Morales, you got an ‘A’ in every class.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Your name’s on every bulletin board.”

“Damn,” the boy muttered to himself as his leg bounced under the desk.

Your beads clattered against your back as you rose from your seat. The bell had rung, finally. You didn’t even say ‘bye’.

Miles cracked open his locker. One of your sticky notes from last week had begun to un-stick and fluttered to the ground. There were no new ones. He bent to pick it up, noticing how neat and round your handwriting was on these compared to the way you wrote in class. The letters didn’t run together, like you were in a rush.

Neatly folding the note and sticking it in his pocket, Miles shut his locker to reveal your face. The boy nearly yelped in surprise.

“Where the hell did you come from? Scared the shit outta me,” he said with a grin.

“I want my pen back.”

Miles froze. 

“Which pen?”

You tilted your chin up towards the one he was currently gripping in his left hand. He looked down at it like a wad of cash.

“Oh.”

He couldn’t just not give the pen back to you…

…but he didn’t want to give it to you, either.

“What you need it for? Don’t you have, like, a whole store full of these?”

“Miles, I gotta get to class. I’m not playing,” you reached for Miles’ hand, but he raised it high above his head.

Instead of a smirk or mocking sneer, something like worry was etched onto the boy’s features. 

“Tell me what’s up witchu first.”

“What are you talking about? I’m about to be late, c’mon.”

“You ain’t said a word to me all day,” he dropped his hand momentarily. “Are you sick? Did I do something? What–hey!”

You had snatched the pen out of the boy’s hand when he wasn’t looking, throwing it into your bag.

“I thought that’s what you wanted.”

You turn to retreat down the hallway, but stop with a huff when Miles calls after you.

“Wait!”

“I’m waiting.”

“Come see me after school?”

You kicked an empty can down the sidewalk in front of Miles’ apartment.

“Make this quick, I gotta go study.”

He looks everywhere else to avoid meeting your eyes, looking for the right words.

“You didn’t answer me earlier,” Miles awkwardly shuffled his feet. “Are you mad at me?”

“...Yeah, kinda.”

“For what?”

You stop to think for a moment, crossing your arms. 

“For…for letting me hand you that pen, knowing you weren’t gonna give it back,” you began.

Miles’ brows furrowed in confusion. “That’s it?”

You shook your head profusely, “N-no, I’m not done. You let me buy you all that stuff, put all that dumb shit in your locker, whole time you don’t even like me–”

“You don’t know that,” Miles interrupted. Your head snapped up to look at him, and you paused.

“I don’t?”

Neither of you say anything for a moment, then Miles remembers the note in his pocket. He takes it out and shows it to you.

“These? Are cute as fuck,”

He searches for more words, ten continues, "A-and I use that sketchbook every day. That pen? It’s like, my favorite,” he laughs. “I got half a mind to steal it back from you.”

Miles watches you expectantly. Your arms are still crossed, but the corners of your lips quirk up in amusement.

“So you like getting free stuff.”

“No-! I…”

The boy’s arms had begun to flail around in frustration. You hold back a giggle, never having seen him squirm like this before. It’s a nice change of pace.

“Alright, listen. I like hearing you talk to me every morning, and…”

He trailed off. He had begun slightly bouncing on his toes.

“...I like you.”

At some point while watching Miles struggle to explain himself, the float-y feeling in your chest had come back. You tilted your head to the side, and smiled.

“Okay. What are you gonna do about it?”

The boy’s eyes lit up.

“Where do you wanna go?”

[goldfades]

evangeline's 2.5k fic rec list + celly information !!

before we get into it, i wanted to get a little sentimental because hitting this amount of followers has always been a dream of mine. i made this blog in august of 2023, in hopes of creating a family whom i can talk to and just... be around. and i did just that!

i love every single one of those 2,500 of you, full heartedly and so genuinely. i may not have interacted with every single one of you, but you are all part of my family here and i really, really do 🫶🏼

if you came for hockey or for women's basketball, i don't care i just love you. you're the best, thank you for supporting me and for making my life so much better and more rewarding!

and to my wonderful moots who always make me feel so loved, I LOVE & SUPPORT YOU SO DAMN MUCH!!!!! it is indescribable how much i love you so much 🩷. every single one of you make me feel so grateful and loved, thank you 🫶🏼

take a shot every time i say "love" in this message... you're gonna be blackout drunk...

FIC REC LIST 2024

bold is nsfw! minors dni!

𝐍𝐇𝐋

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⟡ quinn hughes ⟡

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⟡ luke hughes ⟡

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⟡ trevor zegras ⟡

➜ just a kiss @sweetestdesire

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⟡ paige bueckers ⟡

➜ seven [series] @iminlovewithpaigebueckers

➜ sometimes home is a person @iminlovewithpaigebueckers

➜ fuck the hurt right outta you @makethemhoesmad

➜ false god @makethemhoesmad

➜ sneaky link w chemistry series @arlertwhore

➜ gf headcanons @euphternal

➜ baby daddy @caitlinbueckers

➜ are you done yet? @girlokwhatever

➜ marks of my love @girlokwhatever

➜ overstim @bueckersstrap

➜ imgonnagetyouback @leilanihours

➜ the ask [series] @sweetbans29

➜ throw away [series] @bueckersstrap

⟡ azzi fudd ⟡

➜ if you think i'm pretty @makethemhoesmad

➜ i need you @makethemhoesmad

➜ gf headcanons @paigebueckersmommy

➜ gf headcanons @pbueckerslover

➜ strap @kamii-2

⟡ kk arnold ⟡

➜ gf headcanons @paigebueckersmommy

➜ gf headcanons @mokassong

➜ lunch @luvzpagie

➜ glitter gloss @luvzpagie

➜ caught @mokassong

➜ locker of petals @patscorner

⟡ nika muhl ⟡

➜ grillz @paigebueckersmommy

➜ gf headcanons @paigebueckersmommy

➜ everything @leilanihours

➜ lunch @jareaul0ver

➜ so high school @jareaul0ver

➜ courtside @lovinpelova

➜ domestic headcanons @mayghosts

⟡ caitlin clark ⟡

➜ fuck it [series?] @caitlinbueckers

➜ so high school @leilanihours

➜ dress @leilanihours

➜ be here @sweetbans29

➜ friendship bracelet @sweetbans29

➜ protector @sweetbans29

⟡ kate martin ⟡

➜ good girl @makethemhoesmad

➜ uh oh @girlokwhatever

➜ gold rush @leilanihours

⟡ emily engstler ⟡

➜ make you feel good @girlokwhatever

➜ end of beginnings @girlokwhatever

➜ coach emily headcanons @euphternal

CELEBRATION (THROUGH FRIDAY 05/30/24 UNTIL MONDAY 06/03/24)

[this celebration is not happening as of right now (may 27), it will be active on friday! please do not send anything until friday!!!! thank you, my loves!!!!]

all requests need to be send with a prompt to make it easier for me! any prompt is okay (whether you made it up or found it online, it's okay!) here is a list of prompts if you can't think of any! also make sure to be specific which exact prompt you want, i would prefer you to copy and paste it!

angsty prompt list #1

angsty prompt list #2

fluffy prompt list #1

fluffy prompt list #2

smutty prompt list #1

smutty prompt list #2

🍀 send this & i will write a short fluffy blurb for you!

🌪️ send this & i will write a short angsty blurb for you!

🥭 send this & i will write a short smutty blurb for you!

🥧 send this & a scenario you've been thinking about, and i'll write some headcanons and/or a blurb!

again, thank you to everyone who has ever supported me in any way, shape or form! i love you so fucking much like genuinely, BUT ANYWAYSSS!!!!!!!!

[dancingbirdie]

This request is really out of the blue but, i need I CRAVE i require a fic where tav and astarion finally find a cure for his vampirism (in dnd5 it can actually happen yay!) and he manages to see his reflection again and finally have his natural eye color again (blue bc he's prob a moon elf but I don't mind other colors too). The fangs can stay or not, idc, i just want my boy happy, in love, and cared for. Bonus points if there's cuddles too

OK first of all, thanks for this prompt!! Second, I had to break this up into two parts because I'm afraid of how unwieldy it would get otherwise. So see part 1 below. I'm actively writing part 2 and should have that posted within the next few days. Hope you enjoy!

UPDATE: Chapter 2 available here!

I Promised You (Chapter 1)

Rating: G

Pairing: Astarion x GN!reader

Word Count: 3.1K

Warnings/Tags: mentions of unconsciousness, cheeky banter, domestic life, post-events of BG3, potentially problematic levels of self-sacrifice by reader.

***

“All right. I think you’re ready,” Gale affirmed as he peered over your shoulder, analyzing your hand movements as you practiced the incantation. 

“You think? Shouldn’t we wait until you’re sure?” you replied, heavy skepticism coloring your tone. 

“I can’t give you my complete assurance because you haven’t actually cast the spell,” the wizard sighed. 

The two of you had had this argument many times over the past several months as you studied and practiced. And studied and practiced some more. The conclusion was always the same, but your anxiety always managed to convince you that a different outcome would be had if you just asked him again. 

Conjuration magic was one of the most difficult forms to master. Yes, you had specialized in it during your formative years, under the tutelage of several learned wizards across Faerûn, but this spell was perhaps the pinnacle of feats in conjuration. Only a handful of wizards could perform it. Thankfully Gale was among that number, which is why you had come to him for help.

“As I’ve said, this isn’t a spell you can just cast for practice runs,” he continued. “You have one chance. And if it works, the sheer power of it is undoubtedly going to knock you unconscious.” 

“I know, I know,” you grumbled. “I just… I need to be absolutely perfect. I have to do this. For him.” 

“Have you told him what you’re planning yet?” Gale prodded.

“No. Not yet. I didn’t want to get his hopes up. Or have him tell me how unlikely success will be. Not until I was absolutely sure I could do this.” 

“I see,” the wizard returned, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “Well, tonight is as good a time to tell him as any. There’s nothing more I can teach you to prepare for this. You know the incantation by heart. You perform the gestures almost through muscle memory now. You’re ready.”

“I’m ready,” you repeated, as if saying the words would will it to be so. 

“Send me a missive if he wants to go through with this. I’ll come to the cottage and oversee the spell’s casting.”

“All right,” you nodded.

“It’s going to work. You have to believe it’s going to work,” Gale encouraged, meeting your eyes with a serious, stern sort of expression.

“It’s going to work,” you agreed. “It’s going to work.” 

***

It was dusk by the time you returned to the cottage. It was a modest home you shared with Astarion, situated just outside the city walls. It had a lovely view of the rolling hills that surrounded Baldur’s Gate, and proximity to the Chionthar River gave the air a refreshing, misty feel. Pastoral communities dotted the countryside with sheep and cattle grazing freely during the day, though they had returned to their stables long before your return.

Astarion was no fan of the bucolic lifestyle, as he was wont to remind you. But you both agreed that this living situation afforded him better meal prospects than the rats, cats and errant stray dogs that dwelled within the city limits. At least this way, he had more fulfilling options for food, since the livestock attracted their fair share of large predators. A mild, perpetual confusion charm that you cast kept the neighbors from questioning why – unlike their peers in neighboring villages and towns – their animals were never plagued by roving bears and panthers. 

Astarion was lounging listlessly in the bay window of the den when you entered your home, one leg dangling off the ledge of his reading nook while he carelessly flipped through a book. Probably one he had pilfered from Gale’s stockpile a few weeks ago, you surmised. There had been an uptick in the wizard’s grumbling about discrepancies in his library catalog of late. 

“Anything interesting?” you asked as you shrugged out of your traveler’s cloak and hung it on the coat rack by the door. 

“Ugh, hardly,” Astarion grouched. “Nothing but debunked theories and philosophies from bloated scholars who died a hundred years ago.”

“You’re going to have to return Gale’s books to him eventually, you know. He’s beginning to realize how many from his library are missing.”

“Haven’t the slightest clue what you’re referring to, darling,” he replied breezily.

“Of course, love,” you chuckled, planting a kiss on his forehead as you passed him by to make your way into the kitchen. 

“Care for a glass of wine?” you called.

“Mm, yes,” Astarion returned. “Red, please, dear.”

Uncorking the bottle and pouring the glasses gave you a brief moment to collect your thoughts. To steel your nerves for the conversation looming before you. Drawing a deep breath in and exhaling it slowly, you made your way back into the den and braced for the inevitable. 

“Darling, do you have a moment?” you asked as you offered Astarion his glass before taking a seat next to him. “I’d like to talk to you about something.”

“Gods, it must be serious,” he teased, straightening from his reclined pose to take the proffered glass and make room for you. “You like you’re about to be ill. Go on then, love, before you faint and spill this vintage all over the floor.”

“It is rather serious, in fact,” you began, clearing your throat that had suddenly become tight with nerves.  “I’ve waited to tell you until now, but I’ve been researching some more difficult conjuration magic with Gale the past few months…”

“Oh?” Astarion prompted as you paused. “For what purpose, darling? I thought you had already mastered the school of conjuration.”

“I have. But this is a more specialized form. More… niche, I guess one might say. And, well…” you trailed off again, hesitant.

“Go on,” he encouraged. 

“I’ve-been-researching-a-spell-that-cures-vampirism-and-I-think-I’ve-found-a-way,” you spat out all at once, the words tumbling into each other like a wagon train gone wild. 

Astarion met your eyes with a blank stare, seemingly forgetting that his one hand had been in the process of lifting the wine glass to his lips. 

“I beg your pardon?” he asked hoarsely.

You coughed to clear your throat. “What I mean to say is: I’ve been working with Gale for months now to learn a spell that can cure your vampirism. He and I believe I’m ready to perform it. If you would allow me to try, that is.”

“If this is your idea of a joke,” he murmured, a slight quiver in his voice. “Then I have to tell you, it’s absolutely not funny at all.”

“It’s not a joke!” you assured. “I swear to you, Astarion. It’s not a joke,” you continued, squeezing one of his hands in yours. 

He nodded absently, his gaze trained on your thumb as it soothed over the knuckles of his fingers.

“H-how?” he whispered finally. “How can you cure it? I’ve read every tome I could get my hands on for over two hundred years. Nothing, nothing, I’ve read has ever offered a solution.”

“Because this is a highly guarded spell. It’s only passed down through oral tradition among wizards who specialize in conjuration magic. Which is why I’ve needed Gale’s help,” you explained. “I broached the topic with him some time ago, told him how we were going to look for some way to cure your vampirism. Being a master of magicks himself, I thought he would be a good source of information for me to begin my research. I wasn’t even aware of the spell until he shared it with me. He’s been teaching me the mechanics of it since then. It’s been a difficult spell to master but–” 

“What’s the cost?” Astarion interjected suddenly, meeting your gaze with a new intensity.

“It will cost you nothing, obviously,” you retorted, disliking where the conversation was heading. 

Astarion huffed through his nose. A caustic, frustrated sort of sound. “Don’t play cute with me, darling. You know what I mean.”

“No. I don’t,” you hedged.

“What will the spell cost you,” he bit out through a clenched jaw. 

You bit your lip, hesitant to reply. Astarion’s gaze never wavered. 

Finally you sighed. Better to reveal the consequences of it all than attempt to hide the downsides from him. Even though they were negligible in your eyes, compared to the wonder that would be returning his elfhood to him, you knew he would resent being told only partial truths. You couldn’t fault him for it. You would feel the same, were the roles reversed. 

“It will permanently weaken me. There’s a small, very small, chance it could kill me if I perform it wrong,” you confessed.

“No,” Astarion responded bluntly, without a hint of hesitation. He rose from the bench and made to leave the room. As if the matter had been settled and it was time to crack on. 

“Wait! What do you mean, ‘no’?” you blurted. Jumping to your feet, you snatched at the sleeve of his nightshirt. 

He turned to peer at you with a haughty gaze, one eyebrow arched delicately. “Exactly that. No. You’re not risking your life on the off chance of this working.”

“But it’s not an off chance. It will work! And the likelihood of me dying is incredibly slim!” you protested.

“But the likelihood of you being ‘permanently weakened’ is essentially certain, yes?” 

You rolled your eyes. “I’m sure it’s not as bad as it sounds. And besides, I don’t mind. I want to do this, Astarion.”

He scoffed. “Have you gone absolutely mad? ‘It’s not as bad as it sounds.’ Do you even know what will actually happen to you afterwards?” he shot back angrily.

“No,” you admitted, a bit quieter. 

He deliberately widened his eyes at your response, crossing his arms across his chest as if to say See? My point proven. 

“But I know I can handle it! And I love you enough to try!” you retorted.

That appeared to be the wrong choice of words. You realized it immediately as his expression morphed from outright anger to something darker, icier.

“Well then, it seems we’re at an impasse, darling,” he growled. “Because I love you enough not to have you go through with this.” 

You opened your mouth to object once more, but he continued, ignoring you. 

“AND, since it is my body and my life we’re discussing, it means I have the final say on the matter. My answer is no.”

You had anticipated this conversation going many different ways. You thought you had prepared for the most likely scenarios. But, in all your pondering, you hadn’t seriously considered the possibility that Astarion would reject this opportunity outright. 

Your eyes welled with tears. Hot, angry, disconsolate tears. 

“Astarion,” you murmured, desperate. Angry though you both were, you couldn’t resist the urge to curl into his embrace. Gently, you pulled at his arms in an attempt to un-cross them. With a soft sigh, he allowed you to manipulate him so that you were pressed chest to chest. Your arms banded around his waist, locking him against you. Slowly, he raised his arms to mimic your stance, peering down at you.  

“Astarion, my darling, this is your chance. It’s the only chance we’ve found in over two years of searching. I know I can do it. And you can win it all back. I can help you. Let me do this,” you pleaded. 

“Darling, how could I ever ‘win it all back’ when there’s a possibility I could lose you forever? Or that you could be seriously harmed in the process?” he lifted a hand to cup your cheek, smiling sadly. “I would never forgive myself if you were harmed in an attempt to cure me.”

You closed your eyes, tears slipping freely down your cheeks. “Please. I know I can do this. Please let me do this. I want to do this for you.”

“Come, pup, no more tears. I’ve given you my answer,” he murmured, swiping a thumb across your cheekbones to catch each tear.

You opened your eyes to glare at him. “If the roles were reversed, would you want to try this for me?”

“Of course,” Astarion huffed. “But that’s obviously different, I –”

“WHY? Why is it different?” you cried, clutching him. 

“Because you’re worth it!” he implored, arms vibrating as though he were resisting the urge to shake sense into you. “Your soul is worth a thousand of mine! It’s not marred by death and torture and sacrilege. Can’t you see that? Don’t you see?”

“No, I don’t,” you argued obstinately. “Because you are worth it to me. Your soul is priceless to me. I love you. You’re the love of my life.”

Astarion said nothing, just stared at you with sad eyes. You couldn’t tell if his silence meant you were persuading him, but you couldn’t relent without giving at least one more desperate plea. 

“I promised you. Remember? After everything that happened, I promised you we would find a way for you to walk in the sun once more. I didn’t make that promise lightly. I want to do this for you.”

“Darling…” he murmured sadly, shaking his head. 

“Astarion, please,” you beseeched, shifting to clutch his face between both of your palms. “I’m literally begging you to let me try. Gale and I have been practicing for almost a year now. He wouldn’t tell me I was ready unless he was certain. I know I can do this. Please. Let me try.”

“Don’t you have any regard for your own life?” he whispered. “How is it that I’m more concerned for your well being than you are?” 

“Darling, all of us have the slightest potential of dying every single day we continue to breathe. Anything poses some risk to our lives. I’m telling you, the risk of me dying from this is the same as the risk I take casting any other magic.”

“But there’s still a permanent cost to doing this. Have you even asked Gale to elaborate on what that entails?” 

“No,” you admitted a bit sheepishly. “I didn’t really think about it.” 

Astarion rolled his eyes but planted a kiss against your forehead. “You’re ridiculous, you know.”

“I’m sorry that I was so ecstatic about finding a cure that I leapt straight into studying it!” you said defensively, although your tone lacked teeth. 

He chuckled and wrapped you in a tighter embrace, resting his cheek on the top of your head. The two of you stood like that for some time, arms wrapped around each other, lost in thought. 

After a while, Astarion cleared his throat. “I want us to speak to Gale. I want to know the full details, the consequences of a spell like this.”

You jerked your head up in surprise, staring at him with wide, elated eyes. 

“I’m not saying yes,” he clarified, attempting to tamp down your burgeoning excitement. “But I’m willing to hear more about this… possibility.”

A delighted squeal rocketed up your throat. Quick as a flash, you jumped to wrap your legs around his waist. Long used to your ebullient antics, Astarion caught you with a practiced ease. His arms banded under your thighs and across your lower back, squeezing gently. 

“I love you, you daft, feral thing,” he chuckled, nuzzling your cheek. 

***

“I would have gone over this months ago, had you afforded me the opportunity,” Gale had groused upon arriving at the cottage the following evening. The three of you shared a bottle of barrel-aged Callidyren while Astarion peppered the wizard with umpteen questions about the spell’s mechanics. To his credit, Gale managed to assuage Astarion’s concerns. At least for the most part. 

The permanent effects of casting the spell, you both learned, would diminish your inner well of magic, rendering you unable to cast as many spells as you currently could before resting for a longer period of time. Almost as though the cost of performing the spell would revert you back to the strength you had had as an apprentice so many years ago. You would still be powerful, capable of wielding even the most intricate of spells. But your endurance would be shorter, more concentrated. It was a price you were more than willing to pay. Even more so now that you had actually allowed Gale to describe the effects in detail. 

“I still can’t believe you didn’t press for more details,” Astarion grumbled. 

“It didn’t seem important at the time,” you sniffed, waving a hand dismissively. “Still doesn’t, in my opinion.”

“You know, in some schools of thought,” Astarion countered dryly, “people believe the difference between bravery and complete idiocy is so fine a line that it frequently gets crossed.”

“So I’ve heard,” you crooned. “But, alas, I’m nothing if not an incredibly adept fool in love.” 

Gale observed the two of you warily, as if uncertain whether this exchange constituted harmless domestic banter or an undercurrent of severe agitation. 

“Yes, well,” he interrupted awkwardly, “as I said before, you’re as ready as you will ever be to perform this magic. I’ll be here to supervise and intervene, if necessary, though I don’t think it will be.”

“Bully for us. Is there anything else we should be prepared for, if we’re to go through with this?” Astarion snapped. “Sudden onset sliminess? Gills? Frothing at the mouth?”

You winced. He was always his most discourteous self when he was afraid. Gale might not realize it, but you knew him well enough to tell when his rudeness was obfuscation.   

“Ahem,” Gale coughed, clearly affronted by the impertinent question. “No, nothing of that sort. But this spell is incredibly demanding on one’s body. It’s very likely they’ll fall unconscious once it’s been cast. The effect shouldn’t last for more than a few hours. Enough time for a proper rest.”  

“You failed to mention that yesterday,” Astarion said peevishly, glaring at you from across the dining table. 

“Because it’s the equivalent to me needing a good sleep after a tiring day,” you quipped. 

Gale winced. “It’s a bit more serious than that, I’d argue.”

“Thank you,” Astarion intoned. 

“Tsk. An inconvenience at worst. Nothing unmanageable,” you retorted. “So, what say you, darling? Are you willing to give this a try?”

Astarion’s glare shifted between you and Gale, studying you both. 

“And you both swear to me that all information is now disclosed, yes? No partial truths, no hidden side effects?”

“I swear,” the two of you responded in unison. You reached for Astarion’s hand across the table. 

“My darling, this will work. I’m going to be fine. And you’re going to be cured,” you smiled gently. “Please, trust me.”

He squeezed your hand, crimson eyes boring into your own. 

Finally, after a moment, he gave you a terse nod.

“All right. Let’s try,” he agreed.