#then quick hides😂

[quickspinner]

Indelible - Ch 23 Terminal

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15 | Chapter 16 | Chapter 17 | Chapter 18 | Chapter 19 | Chapter 20 | Chapter 21 | Chapter 22 | Chapter 23 | ??? | AO3

I'm changing my name and moving to an isolated cabin in the woods before everyone comes after me. 😂

I also regret to say the next chapter is not one where I had parts written ahead of time so it may take a bit to resolve this mystery I've left you with, but I have some scheduled free time coming up so I hope it won't be *too* long.

He wasn’t used to living alone.

He hadn’t ever had occasion before to consider it, but it was a fact. He had shared a room with Juleka until he left home. There was no privacy in the whirl of Jagged’s retinue, and even in the off times between tours, Luka had spent most of his time traveling, working with various mentors Jagged had connected him with, or otherwise getting experience in different areas of the music business. It felt like a large part of the last year had been spent trying to find time to himself, and now—

Well, he had it. Dingo had moved in with Bri for the off season, or until she got sick of him and kicked him out, whichever came first. Luka hadn’t wanted to intrude on Juleka and Rose for months, and now the little studio apartment he had rented felt…very quiet. He left his two small windows open to let in the street noise when it got too much for him. 

He played, of course. He played, and he tried to write, and the pen shook in his hand, knowing that his whole future and the future of everyone who was betting on him would depend on what he wrote. He paced the small space, and he took long walks, and he sat in the park and ate in cafes and tried to remind himself why he loved Paris. He showed up at the studio and at band meetings when he was required to, but his answer was always the same when they asked him how the new album was coming. “I’m still working on it.”

He missed Marinette. She would have been so excited for his first apartment alone, no matter how small it might be. She would have made him floor pillows and curtains while he pretended to protest through his laughter. She would have filled the room with her larger than life personality and even after she left, her energy would linger in him, spurring him to at least tack up some pictures of his loved ones, and he’d be smiling as he tried to work out his plan for the new album, even if it frustrated him.

She wasn’t answering his calls at all, now. Not since Kagami had gone to see her. Luka had finally called Kagami, and when he finally got through her layers of assistants, the flat way she had answered the phone made him change his question to, “Are you okay?” 

That seemed to take her off guard, and she answered softly, “I don’t know. I don’t know anything anymore. Were we ever really friends, Luka?”

“That bad, huh?”

“No…no, not exactly. It was just—it felt like I was having lunch with Adrien instead of Marinette. Like she was reading a script. She just kept… smiling …” 

She couldn’t see his slow nod, of course. 

“Was it ever real?” Kagami asked. “Did I just imagine it was different with her?” 

“No,” Luka promised her, but it was all the reassurance he could give. 

“Are you sure you can’t…” Kagami trailed off, and it took him a moment to realize she wouldn’t continue, so accustomed was he to her clipped, precise speech.

“No,” he whispered. “I can’t. I told her a long time ago I would always respect her choices. I can't go back on that now.”

If his work had been slow going before, it had practically dragged to a halt since that conversation. There was only the quiet, and the sense that he was waiting. For something to happen. For something to change. 

And now…

Luka sat at the tiny second-hand table he used for both eating and working, and stared at the blank white wall without seeing it.

Some days he hated himself for asking her to put her name on him. Maybe if he hadn’t, he’d think they were still fine. Still friends. Maybe he’d still believe what she told him last time he saw her—that they were good. Still good. 

Luka glanced at the magazine on the counter next to him and shoved it away. He picked up his glass and took a large swallow. Only water. He didn’t trust himself with anything stronger right now.  

He wondered if she ever hated him for putting his mark on her. She always kept it covered, either with her clothes or her hair, only the edges peeking out here and there in all her press photos. 

For his privacy, she had once explained.

Was that still why?

Luka was sure it was as dark as it had ever been. The less she thought of him, the more he thought of her. Did she hate him for that? 

Did she even think about him enough to hate him?

His hand bunched the fabric of his shirt over his side and he sighed. 

The ring of his phone wasn’t at all unexpected. Luka picked it up, figuring he might as well get it over with. 

“Hey,” he said dully.

There was a gusty sigh on the other side of the line. “You saw it, didn’t you.” 

“Yeah.”  At least when she’d been dating Adrien, she’d cared enough to call him personally. Now he didn’t even warrant a phone call for one of the biggest events in her life. 

“And now you���re moping around telling yourself how you’re glad she’s happy.”

“I am glad she’s happy.” If she even was happy. He had his doubts, looking at that picture, at the model-perfect smile on her face and the careful posing of her hand to show the glittering ring. At her blond, smirking fiancé with a face that was far too similar to another one he remembered. What are you doing, Marinette?

“You’re so full of shit.”

“Sure, Ding,” Luka sighed. 

“Look, Lu, I don’t know what changed between you guys, but this...thing, isn’t good for you anymore.” 

Luka grunted, not especially interested in Dingo’s opinion of his love life, or lack thereof. He drew circles in the condensation his glass had left on the countertop. He still loved her, yeah, but right now…he’d give a lot just to have his friend back. 

“Lu,” Dingo said, his voice uncharacteristically serious. “Finish the song.”

Luka froze, stomach turning to ice.

“Finish it, perform it, record it,” Dingo said firmly. “Tell her all the things you’ve been holding back all this time. Get it—” He paused, and didn’t say get it out of your system, for which Luka was grateful. 

Luka pressed his lips together, and swallowed the lump in his throat. “You think?” 

“Yeah. It’s time, mate.” 

Luka’s shoulders hunched, and he gradually folded in on himself until his forehead rested on the table. It was cold, he noted absently. 

“Lu?” 

“I’ll think about it,” Luka sighed. 

“Don’t think about it,” Dingo advised, “Just do it. Your work sucks when you think. Just…get it out. You’re going to choke on it if you don’t, anyway.” 

Luka snorted softly. “I gotta go,” he said, quietly, and didn’t wait for an answer as he hung up the phone. He put it carefully on the table next to him, and folded his arms around his head. His breathing had gone shaky and it was loud in spite of the road noise and raised voices coming through his window. Some detached, blank corner of his mind listened to the rhythm of his harsh breaths drowning out the sound of the world rolling by, listened to the rhythm change as his eyes began to sting, listened to it become stuttery and uneven as breaths became sobs. Later, when he could play, when he could hear the music again, he would need that rhythm. But for now, it just felt...silent. Empty. No music. No color. 

No smiles, no laughter. No stuttering, no crescendo to that’s not what I meant, Luka! and no sighs of exasperation that always ended in comforting hugs given and received. No late night calls, no trading frustrations and mock threats. No quiet whispering of fears that couldn’t be admitted beyond the quiet space beyond the two of them. 

He had to let all that go. She had let him go, and he had to respect it. 

But it hurt. It hurt a lot, and he sat with his head down on his tiny table and cried, mourning the loss of something that had been such a huge part of his life. 

***

In the end, he wrote a whole album full of songs. He wrote hopeful songs. He wrote sad songs. He wrote angry songs. He wrote his love and his heartbreak and he didn’t stop until it was all out. He wrote it, he recorded it, he performed it, throwing his entire self into his work, both the recording and the performing. Night after night he relived his heartbreak in front of crowds of screaming strangers, and every night he went back to his hotel room feeling like he’d left a piece of himself on stage, wondering if he left enough pieces then it wouldn’t hurt anymore, or when the repetition would finally dull the pain. He fell asleep exhausted and woke up empty, and somehow had to find it in himself to do it all again.

Critics praised his musicality. Fans gushed about his sincerity and passion (and, of course, his good looks). Gossip magazines passed rumors of conflict in the band, affairs with his personnel, and speculated on his diet and weight changes. They published pictures of him haggard and depressed with theories about his deteriorating mental state, and gleefully predicted the band’s downfall when the bass player left, or was kicked out, depending on the “source.” Ticket sales soared through it all. 

And then when the tour was over, proclaimed a wild success, Luka Couffaine disappeared. Vanished from the music scene like he had never been. A sabbatical, his publicist assured the press and his disappointed but devoted fans. He’d be back, recharged and ready to create. 

A breakdown, suggested the tabloids. Maybe even a drug spiral. They published photos of him with his head in one hand and a bottle of pills in the other. Maybe he was in some celebrity rehab facility somewhere. His fans scoffed. Everyone knew he struggled with headaches, ever since he had had to stop a show in Sweden to ask them to change the lights. He had admitted it and everyone loved him for his vulnerability and humanity. Addicted to prescription painkillers, countered the tabloids, to the outrage of Luka’s defenders.

His representatives only reiterated what they had always said, and the press’s search for him went nowhere. Eventually, they ran out of news, or even rumors. Fans mourned and hoped by turns.

But the entertainment industry moves quickly, and before too long, Luka Couffaine was forgotten. 

Fiction Master Post

[kingkatsuki]

Specifically thinking about long distance relationships today.

So tell me how you and your f/o would first meet online?

[mandiemegatron]

LET ME MAKE SOMETHING VERY FUCKIN CLEAR HERE 😂😂😂

If YOU come into my inbox and try to insult me, or be straight up rude or a fuckin' douche canoe - I WILL HURT YOUR FEELINGS.

I will rip into you SO FUCKIN HARD that you will never want to even THINK abt sending anon hate ever again.

Eat shit and die, you raggedy, bald headed BITCHES. 🥰🥰🥰🥰

[loveisloveisacomplicatedgirl]

Y/N: It's okay, Izuku! I got this!

Y/N: Kats, you need to think more realistic. See, for me, Demon Slayer taught me that fighting with two swords can be better than one, and that shitty ppl should always get met with a great headbutt to the nose! :D

Bakugo: *demonic feral grin*

Izuku: Oh... oh, no.

Izuku: Who says you can’t learn anything from anime?! I’ve learned a lot of things from it than some textbook!

Kirishima: Yeah! Like Demon Slayer! That one taught me about the importance of family!

Bakugo: It taught me to lock your sibling in a box if they get demonic.

Izuku: Kacchan isn’t part of this discussion.

[jane-asmo]

Here’s a quick review of the amazing opening of Arcane season 2:

Vi seems to be struggling with her identity / Loss of identity

Vi is wearing the tank top that I believe is the one she wears under her enforcer uniform. That’s the outfit she’s wearing throughout the opening.

Jinx, who was hiding behind, rises and steps into the light—maybe a way of showing that she’s grown symbolically, that she’s now 'bigger.'

Ekko with his shadow resembling a clock winding back time.

Caitlyn is shown in her turtleneck (also what she wears under her enforcer outfit ? ), With a curtain to suggest a stage, she takes a deep breath before stepping into the light with a fake smile. Honestly, if I analyze it, we can say without much risk that she's in inner conflict, that she has to step into the spotlight and is showing a different face from how she really feels.

There’s so much to say about the other scenes, but others will handle that perfectly; I have a special focus on CaitVi (😂). Here they are again in the same outfits—the turtleneck and tank top. It’s an interesting way to present them, and there’s a lot that could be said, which I won’t go into, but I wanted to point it out. Cait and Vi are more vulnerable in these outfits; it’s very intimate, as are all the shots with them in this opening. We’re really in deeply intimate territory.

The looks are very intense, filled with hatred or something else? (my poor babies).

At first, I thought they were kissing, but now I think they’re fighting. They could be kissing or strangling each other in that shot; it’s hard to tell. In both cases, it’s very interesting because this little backlit scene with its colors is very intense. And, as I read elsewhere, very lesbian flag.

And Caitlyn is still struggling, with her shadow looking like the Evil Queen, I think (lol 😆). And the effect on her hands gives the impression that she has blood on them.

And I really like this shot because that's my Caitlyn; she has the look of someone who’s realizing, who understands. And maybe she’s coming back to her senses? So, there you have it—just my initial thoughts. I was so awestruck by this new opening that I just had to watch it again and again.

[rafecameronssl4t]

Cart girl || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

Summary: you meet Rafe during one of your shifts as a beverage cart girl.

Warnings: swearing idk what else

Word count: 797

A/n: beverage cart girls kept popping up on my fyp and I thought I might aswell 😂

MASTERLIST

Divider by @yoonitos

“She new?” Rafe cocks his head towards your direction before swinging his club. Kelce and Topper both look to where Rafe was referring to, spotting you surrounded by a few other golfers.

“The beverage cart girl?” Topper questions as Rafe hums. “Can’t say I’ve seen her around before,” Topper says as the three boys watch you from afar. “Shit, she’s coming our way,” Kelce comments turning around to hide the fact the fact that he was watching as Topper looks away briefly.

“Hey, you guys want anything to drink or snack on?” you ask with a bright smile, lifting your hand to shield your eyes from the glaring afternoon sun. The three boys look up from their conversation, momentarily taken aback by your friendly demeanor.

“Yeah—uh, you guys want anything?” Rafe repeats the question to Kelce and Topper, who both nod enthusiastically. “Three Westbrooks, thanks,” Rafe says, his voice casual but with a hint of curiosity as his eyes linger on you.

“Sure,” you reply, stepping out of your cart. Rafe’s gaze follows your movements intently, his eyes raking over you in a way that doesn’t go unnoticed. He exchanges a smirk with Kelce and Topper, who try to conceal their grins, clearly amused by Rafe’s reaction.

“How’s your guys’ day been?” you ask sweetly, your voice filled with genuine interest as you reach for the three cans of Westbrook. “Yeah, yeah, good,” Rafe responds quickly, almost too quickly. “You new around here?” he adds, scratching the back of his neck, his curiosity getting the better of him.

“Uh, not really. I usually do morning shifts, but I’ve switched to afternoons,” you explain, handing them each a can, your fingers brushing Rafe’s briefly. “Cool,” Rafe nods, his eyes never leaving yours, the smirk still playing on his lips.

“Cash or card?” you ask, holding a small notepad ready to jot down their payment details. “Just put it on my tab. It’s Cameron,” Rafe replies confidently, his smirk widening as he notices the moment of recognition in your eyes. “Cameron?” you repeat, locking eyes with him, the name ringing a bell.

Your eyes rake over his features, taking in his confident smirk and the way he holds himself. Tilting your head the tiniest bit, you say, “Well, have a good rest of your day, guys.” You offer a warm smile before turning around and climbing back into your cart.

As you start the engine and drive away, you hear Kelce exclaim, “Fuck, she’s hot, dude,” while slapping Rafe’s chest. Rafe chuckles, his eyes fixed on your cart as it disappears into the distance.

“Yeah, she definitely is,” Rafe murmurs, a satisfied grin spreading across his face as he watches you leave. Topper shakes his head, laughing softly, trying to hide his amusement. “Think she’ll be around for the afternoon shifts more often?” Topper asks, glancing at Rafe. “Hope so,” Rafe replies, eyes still lingering on you.

~

“Y’know, the craziest thing happened to me yesterday afternoon,” you say absentmindedly, sipping on your fruity drink as you watch him line up his shot. His focus on the golf ball is intense, but he pauses for a moment, intrigued by your comment.

“Hmm? What happened, baby?” he replies, turning to make his way towards you. He presses a quick kiss on your lips before reaching over you to grab another club from the bag.

“I met your son,” you say, swirling the straw in your drink with your finger. Ward looks at you, his expression curious. “You saw Rafe?” he repeats, his tone carrying a mix of surprise and interest. “Yeah,” you hum in confirmation. “He’s quite good-looking, takes after his father,” you add with a smirk, watching as Ward chuckles and throws his head back in laughter.

“He’s a coke addict, baby. Best you don’t involve yourself with him, he’s trouble,” Ward warns, his thumb rubbing gently against your bottom lip. His touch is tender, but his words are firm. You stare up at him, undeterred. “He was nice to me,” you shrug, recalling the encounter.

“That’s because you’re a good-looking girl,” Ward says, his eyes twinkling with a mix of amusement and admiration “You think so?” you ask, your smirk growing. Ward chuckles, leaning down to press a kiss on your cheek. “I know so.”

As Ward returns to his game, you can’t help but let your mind wander back to Rafe. There was something about him that intrigued you and you couldn’t help but purposely run into him around the course.

[the-offside-rule]

Patricio O'Ward (Arrow McLaren) - Taste Of Home

Requested: yes

Prompt: Y/n is the youngest Leclerc and is missing home so Pato brings home to her

Warnings: tooth rotting fluff

Y/n sighed as she leaned back on the couch in the house she now shared with her boyfriend, Pato. It had been an exciting move, leaving behind her life in Monaco to support Pato in his IndyCar career, but tonight, the homesickness gnawed at her more than usual. The city was bustling, yet felt so different from the cozy streets of Monte Carlo, and she missed the warmth of home, the chatter of her brothers, and the comfort of her mother’s cooking. Pato turned his attention away from the TV as he heard his girlfriend moving beside him, noticing the way she was staring blankly at her laptop, her mind far away.

“You okay, mi amor?” Pato asked, his hand strokingher knee. His dark eyes were full of concern. “Yeah, I’m fine." Y/n smiled softly, though her tone betrayed her. "Just missing home tonight, I guess." Pato shifted, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pulling her close. "What do you miss most? Besides Charles making fun of you?" Y/n chuckled at that, leaning her head on Pato's shoulder. “Everything, really. Charles, Lorenzo, Arthur. My mom's carbonara, and just being surrounded by family. It was weird being the youngest sometimes, but they always made me feel you know, like I belonged.” Pato's soft smile turned to a flat line, thinking of what he could do.

“Tell me a story,” Pato suggested, wanting to cheer her up. “About you and your brothers.” She thought for a moment, her face softening as memories surfaced. “Okay, I’ve got one. So, when I was about seven, Charles and Arthur thought it’d be funny to teach me how to ride a bike. But they didn’t tell me how to brake properly." Pato laughed. "That sounds like a disaster waiting to happen."

“Oh, it was." Y/n nodded with a smile. "I rode straight into our neighbor’s garden and crashed into her rose bushes. I was crying, covered in thorns, and instead of comforting me, Charles was laughing so hard he was practically rolling on the floor. Arthur was trying to hide so he wouldn’t get in trouble. But Lorenzo, being the responsible big brother, came and pulled me out of the bushes, all while giving Charles and Arthur a lecture.” Pato shook his head with a grin. “So Charles was always a troublemaker?”

“Always.” Y/n confirmed with a fond laugh. “But he had his moments where he was sweet too. He’s protective, you know? When I went to my first school dance, he grilled the poor boy who asked me to be his date. Charles practically had the poor guy sweating.” Pato laughed louder this time. "Yeah, that sounds like him. Protective older brother mode.” Y/n had loosened up a bit, reminiscing on the past she had in Monaco. “Yep. And Arthur’s no better. Honestly, they all think I need constant watching.” Y/n yawned softly, her tiredness creeping in after a long day at university. “I miss them, though.”

“I know you do.” Pato said, kissing her temple softly. "You should get some rest. It's been a long day, amor." Y/n looked at the time on her laptop. "Yeah, I think I will.” Y/n stood up, stretching. “I’ll head to bed. I’ve got an early class tomorrow.” Pato smiled as she leaned down and placed a delicate kiss onto his lips. “Goodnight, mi amor. I love you.”

“Love you too, Pato.” Y/n smiled before turning and heading for the stairs. As soon as the door closed, Pato pulled out his phone, an idea sparking in his mind. He scrolled through his contacts until he found Charles’ number and sent a message.

Pato Hey man, quick question. Y/n’s feeling really homesick tonight and I was thinking… can you send me your family’s carbonara recipe? I want to surprise her tomorrow.

Pato stared at his phone, unsure if Charles would respond quickly. But within moments, his screen lit up with a reply.

Charles Hey, mate. Of course, I’ll send it over. You trying to impress my sister with your cooking? 😂

Pato Haha, yeah, something like that. She told me she misses your mom’s carbonara, so I thought it might help.

Charles Give me a second, I’ll write it down for you.

A minute later, Charles sent over a series of detailed instructions, with a few extra tips for making sure the dish turned out just right. Pato read through the messages carefully, determined to get it perfect.

Charles And don’t overcook the pasta! I swear, if you serve it mushy, Y/n will never let you live it down.

Pato Haha, I’ll do my best. Thanks, man.

With the recipe in hand, Pato felt a surge of excitement. He could picture Y/n’s face lighting up when she came home to find a taste of Monaco waiting for her.

The next day, after Y/n left for her morning classes, Pato got to work. He drove to the store, carefully selecting only the best ingredients for the pasta dish. He came home, cleaned up a bit and set to work cooking. No one said it would be easy and it certainly wasn't for such a simple dish. He followed Charles’ recipe to the letter, carefully whisking the eggs and cheese together, cooking the pancetta until it was crisp, and boiling the pasta to al dente perfection. His kitchen was soon filled with the comforting smell of home-cooked food, and he couldn’t help but feel proud of himself for pulling it off. Pato had managed to spill sowm egg here and there, a bit of sliced guanciale on the floor (nothing Norbi couldn't help with), but he got there. He had done it. He had to admit, he ate a bowl or two whilst waiting for Y/n to get back.

Just as he was plating the carbonara, he heard the front door open. Y/n walked in, looking exhausted but surprised when she caught the scent wafting through the apartment. “Oh that smells delicious! Pato, what are you cooking?” She asked, setting her bag down. Pato turned to her with a grin, holding up two plates of the golden, creamy pasta. “Surprise! I made your family’s carbonara.” Her eyes widened, and her heart melted instantly. “You what?”

“I called Charles and got the recipe,” Pato explained, walking over to hand her a plate. “I know you’ve been homesick, and I wanted to bring a little bit of home here for you.” Y/n stared at him, her eyes soft with emotion. “Pato this is amazing. You didn’t have to do all this.” She smiled, her hand caressing his cheek. “I wanted to,” Pato said, his voice gentle. “You mean the world to me, Y/n. I want you to feel at home, even here.” She smiled, her eyes glistening with unshed tears, and took a bite. “This is perfect,” she said, her voice thick with emotion. “It tastes just like home.” Pato sat down beside her, watching as she ate with a soft smile. “I’m glad you like it.” Y/n leaned over and kissed his cheek. “I love it. And I love you.”

“I love you too,” Pato whispered, feeling a wave of warmth and contentment wash over him. He’d brought a piece of Monaco to Miami, and in that moment, it felt like home; because Y/n was with him.

[trustmypoison]

SVT when you get a new piercing

Requested? Yes!

Request: ‘Hear me out, what if y/n pierced their nipples? How would seventeen react? And how would he notice? You told him or like he felt it or when he slid his hand or lifted it up. Please mention how the revelation happens and then reaction 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼 ‘

TW/CW: Some of these are suggestive, bordering on a little bit of smut. MDNI. 

A/N: I have some serious trauma when it comes to nipple piercings. More power to you if you like yours, but I did not like mine. 😂

You can’t hide anything from him - Jeonghan, Wonwoo, Minghao

You’re acting suspicious and it starts to worry him. He doesn’t want to pressure you into telling him what’s going on, but he’s really starting to think that something is wrong. Say you guys share locations for safety purposes, like you like to know when he gets settled in the hotel while traveling and he likes to know that you made it home from work when he’s going to be working late. He sneaks a peek at your location during a break one day and sees that you’re at… a piecing shop? His interest is piqued, but he plays it cool when you both get home, casually what you got into today. If you try to deflect or lie, he just calls it out. Like, “uh huh, and how was the piercing shop? 🤨’. You know you’re busted, so you tell him about your surprise. And he is pleasantly surprised! Just don’t try to pull one over on him like that, because it probably won’t work. 

He feels them when he hugs you - Joshua, Woozi

When he comes home from a long week of just missing each other due to conflicting schedules, he pulls you into a hug immediately. It’s really all he’s thought about all week. You’re already in your pajamas without a bra, and it feels… different? But it’s only been a week, so why?? He pulls back and does a quick scan of you and asks if you’re okay. You say ‘of course,’ and he’s not really convinced, but he’s too tired to argue. It’s when he’s got you curled up into his side in bed later that it clicks. Imagine being shaken awake at 3am and opening your eyes to him staring at you and asking, “Do you have something to tell me?” You may or may not be going back to sleep, who’s to say. 

He sees them through your bra/shirt - Jun, DK, Mingyu

Similar to the previous group, he’s just been missing you due to conflicting schedules. But finally, you guys have a free night to see each other! You both are so tired that you both decide to just stay in and order something. You’re wearing a form-fitting top and he’s really trying not to look, honest. He wants to be respectful and he cares to hear about how your week has been, but he also misses your body and being close to you. He glances at your chest, totally meaning for it to just be a glance, but he notices a difference. He reaches out in confusion. “Uh, baby, what is that?” He does not know how to handle this reveal when you show him, at least at first. But when he gets it together, the food will be put aside, conversation totally forgotten. 

He feels them before or during sex - Seungcheol, Chan

It’s been a long week and there’s a lot of frustration pent up. So you aren’t totally surprised when he scoops you up to go to the bedroom as soon as he gets home. It’s as his hand creeps up your shirt or that your shirt comes off entirely, that he realizes something is different. It feels different, or a little sparkle catches his eye. I fully believe that this little revelation would totally change the pace. Whatever you guys were doing before is fast-paced and maybe a little aggressive. But it’ll turn into something sweet and soft, with a little (or a lot) of body worship. Later, he’ll tell you how much he likes them, but for now he’ll show you. 

You have a reaction that gives it away - Hoshi, Seungkwan, Vernon

My experience with this type of piercing is that you don’t realize how many things you bump into until you have it. So, say you guys have just been busy and not really had a lot of time to be intimate lately. You’re in a rush and bump into something. What should have been a small wince that you can keep moving through makes you stop and cry out in pain. He’s borderline panicked, asking if you’re okay. He doesn’t really let you brush it off, wanting to check for bruises or cuts with genuine concern, so eventually, you just have to admit to your little surprise that you were saving for him. And he is surprised and he’ll appreciate it later tonight! But you might get scolded a little bit for now to be more careful. 

[cissyenthusiast010155]

Ok so I’m dying to read a snape x reader fic where the reader is pregnant with his baby and he gets all sweet and possessive of her in the bedroom but also like kinda rough in the tender/sensual way only Snape can be 😂 One word: SMUT. I’ve never found a fic like this (If you have PLZ recommend) thanks, love your work!!

My Love, My Everything ~Soft!Severus Snape xFem Pregnant!Wife!Reader

Summary— Read request. Anon Response— Hi hi hi anon!! Thank you thank you for the request! I haven’t written for Severus in a while, but I’m back in my Alan Rickman era so here’s this smutty little fic you requested <3 Hope you Enjoy! ♥️

Mommy… Master List

Requests & Prompt-List

Warnings: NSFW, 18+!!, smut, sex while pregnant, eating out, fingering, overstimulation, rough yet tender and gentle sex, fluff, teasing, light taunting, implied future smut, etc.

Enjoy (;

The second Severus walked into your shared bedroom, his hands were on you. It started with his hand caressing your back, guiding you to the bed. Then when your legs hit the edge of the bed, his other hand snuck its way to you chin, before his lips connected with yours.

You hummed into the kiss in content. Severus wasted no time in separating your lips with his tongue and exploring your wet cavern. A moan ripped through your throat as his tongue dominated the kiss. His hand moved from your back to your hips, before guiding you to lay back on the bed.

Severus was careful and caring, not daring to harm his wife or his future child. He carefully crawled on top of you, starting to love on every piece of exposed skin you had to offer. His tender touch began to removed all your clothing, until you are completely bare in front of the man you loved.

“So beautiful…” he groaned, as he stood up and his eyes raked over your figure.

Severus then quickly undressed, his eyes never leaving yours. Under his intense gaze, you became flushed and attempted to cover yourself in embarrassment. Severus was quick to cock his brow at you, and consequently pounced on you, grabbing your hands and holding them above your head.

“Don’t hide yourself from me, Darling… You’re so stunning, it’s a crime…” He husked in your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

You squirmed against his hold, while the man began his naked assault down your body. He left litters of kisses and bites and bruises along your frame, before he reached your swollen belly. Severus then looked up at you with sparkling eyes. He licked his lips and had a wicked smirk. You squirmed even more, as his hands moved to hold your hips down and his mouth prepared to taste you.

“S-Sev p-please…” you whimpered, thrashing back and forth in desperation, all Severus’ teasing having properly riled you up. You stared to tease your nipples for some amount of relief.

Severus didn’t need to be told twice. His hands suddenly held your hips in a vice grip, making your gasp. That would leave a bruise along with the dozens of other ones he’d made tonight… Then you felt his hot breath on your cunt, and a second later, Severus was diving into your previous pussy.

You cried out in pleasure, as the man held nothing back, giving your cunt his all. One of your hands immediately shot to his head of dark curls. His tongue was unrelenting, lapping away at our folds, and quickly diving into your cunt. His thumb drew up to your clit, rubbing tight and swift circles against your bundle of nerves.

“Oh God SEV—!” You cried out, your head being thrown back against the sheets as your eyes screwed shut tight.

It turned so rough and overwhelming so quickly that the fingers teasing your nipples went limp, unable to think or do anything else than take what Severus was giving you. Your hips jolted upward and into his touch in needy desperation.

Severus’ grip on your hips only tightened in response, keeping your hips from effectively suffocating him, as his tongue was so addicting… He groaned into your cunt as he felt your walls clench around his tongue, which only made you wetter.

After his tongue had effectively done its job of getting you dizzy and soaked, he pulled away slightly. Your head shot up and you immediately whined at the man in need.

“Tsk tsk tsk, you know me better than that, Darling…” Severus chuckled, before sliding two of his girthy fingers into your cunt.

“AhHhhHHh bloody helll—UghhhHh…!!” You groan out, your eyes rolling in the back of your head.

Severus couldn’t help the smirk plastered across his face, as his digits fucked your pussy rough and deep, just like you needed. As he did this, Severus leaned forward and began placing kisses upon your swollen belly.

“Look at me, love…” Severus husked.

You struggled to lift your gaze and look at Severus, as his fingers were curling and scissoring your cunt so deep and so good. The man could see your impending high in your eyes, and it made him swell with pride, only spurring him on even more.

“You look so good with my baby inside you, my love…” Severus said in his low, sultry tone.

God that tone… that tone could make you cum alone…

“Mmm Sev…!!!” You squeaked, as his fingers curled inside you, hitting your g-spot over and over again, your hand from your chest swiftly moving to grip the sheets tight.

“What do you need, Darling…? Use your words…” Severus husked.

“Cum!! Make me cum dee GOD please Sevvv…!!” You cried out, your body so on edge and shaking, at the behest of merely two of his fingers.

“Good girl…” Severus hummed, “Cum for me.” He husked, sliding a third finger into your heat and fucking you at a relentless pace.

The coil in the depths of your body snapped as all three of his digits curled against your clit with rough, calculating intention. Waves of pleasure crashed over you, as your body convulsed and the walls of your cunt clenched around Severus’s fingers.

Your couldn’t bear the intense pleasure, your head rolling back against the sheets, your eyes shutting tight, not being able to keep your gaze on your man. But Severus let it go, knowing how sensitive your body was from carrying his child. He merely fucked you through your orgasm, going now at a gentle pace, while tenderly kissing your swollen belly.

After your cunt stopped clenching fervorously and your waves of pleasure began to subside, you were finally able to take a breath. Your walls were still fluttering as Severus pulled his fingers out of you gently. He immediately showered you with praise, telling you how good you were for him.

Severus then made his way up your figure, showering your shaky body with light kisses along the way, before his lips connected with yours once more in light but passionate kiss. You were panting into the kiss and afterward. But you had the biggest smile on your face the entire time.

Severus laid beside you, embracing your frame and not planning on letting go anytime soon, also taking the moment to lick his fingers clean of your juices, making you giggle lightly.

“You’re incorrigible, Sev…” you giggled, swatting him lightly, before pulling the man in for another kiss, “and hot…” you murmured lustfully against his lips.

“Haven’t had enough, have we…?” Severus teased you into the kiss.

You pulled away with a smirk and a certain look on your face.

“Of you?” You quipped, before running your tongue from Severus’ exposed collarbone all the way up his chin and into his mouth,

“Never, Severus…” you husked with shining eye matching his dark, lustful pupils.

~~~

Severus Snape Masterlist

[hrtnovas]

NEW WLW BLOGG!! Now Imma help christen it by giving your 1st request!😂 You can definitely see from my profile pic that I am a huge Arlecchino simp.

Let's go with a childhood fem!reader who stayed with Arlecchino throughout her child to teen to adult years where Arlecchino becomes the 4th Harbinger after 'removing' Crucabena from play. Maybe they both developed feelings along the way? Or Arlecchino pines after reader but reader is very VERY oblivious despite the obvious sign from Arlecchino? Make this a smut!

​🇧​​🇴​​🇺​​🇳​​🇩​ ​🇧​​🇾​ ​🇫​​🇦​​🇹​​🇪​

FIRST REQUEST?? THIS IS A 10/10 YOU COOKED WITH THIS.

also my first fic

the nsfw part is separated from the sfw part because I gen feel like it's easier for me this way ୨ৎ

cw ; NSFW, men & mdni, dom!arlecchino x shy oblivious sub childhood!reader, rushed sesbian sex, fingering, but so much fluff, slight angst???, friends to lovers, reader is kind of shy and a little bit clueless . .

word count ; 1,834 words ♡

ʚɞ

both dividers by @cafekitsune . . ୨ৎ

(you two are young teens in this scene.)

Arlecchino.

The two of you grew up together, went through everything together.

You saw her white hair and faded black streaks in the moonlight. She looked up at the moon restless in thought. She stared and stared, as if something would happen, there were flowers in her hand. She was lost in her thoughts, wondering about so much.

"There's something about her… something I can't look away from." She wasn’t sure what it was about you. Arlecchino thought, her eyes shifting quickly towards you. For just a moment, her gaze softened before she looked away. She wasn’t sure what it was about you. The way you offered a piece of cake when you two were together. Or maybe it was the times you both tried so hard to hide behind calm eyes and a resting expressions. She thought to herself, looking briefly at you. You were beside her, holding a flower of your own, completely unaware of the way her gaze softened for just a moment. You were also getting quite lost in your thoughts. You were pretty much zoned out.

Arlecchino's fingers brushed against the petals of the flowers in her hand. She didn’t make eye contact, but her voice cut through the silence like a blade. "You’re staring." Her voice was low, calm, but it carried a feeling that made your heart jump. She turned her head around to face you properly.

You snapped out of your thoughts. You didn't realize you were staring at her. "I didn’t mean to.." you stammered, clutching the flower tighter in your hand. You moved closer, unsure if you were about to apologize again or say nothing.

"D-don’t you think the moon looks beautiful tonight?" you blurted, your voice stuttered out. The words felt a bit rushed, a attempt to change the conversation anywhere but to look her gaze. Your eyes shifted to the vase by the window, hoping she wouldn’t notice the way your fingers tightened around the flower.

Arlecchino’s lips curled into a faint smile, her sharp eyes shining under the moonlight. "The moon?" she echoed, her tone unreadable. "You’ve been staring at me, and now you’re talking about the moon?"

Her fingers grazed the petals again, slower this time, as if lost in thought once again. Finally, her gaze shifted to the flowers in your hand. "You handpicked these yourself, didn’t you?" she asked, her voice quiet.

You glanced down at the flower, your grip tightening as a nervous laugh escaped you. "Y-yeah.. . I thought they looked nice." Her attention on the flowers made your face red, as if she could see right through you.

Her hand moved with purpose, brushing against yours as she plucked one of your flowers from your grasp. She moved closer to you.

"Stay still." she whispered. Her fingers brushed over your head as she swept a strand of hair out of your face, her touch was both gentle and firm. You held your breath ; unsure of what to do as she leaned in closer, the flower in her hand brushing against your skin.

She slid it into your hair with quick care, her hands grazing your cheek as she did so. The contact sent a small shiver down your spine, and your cheeks burned under her gaze.

"There." she said softly, though her voice was stoic, you could tell she was trying to be meaningful. And that made your heart race. Her lips curled into a faint smile as she moved back.

You fumbled for words, your voice barely above a whisper. “I.. thank you.” Your eyes darted away, too nervous to meet her gaze for long. But you could feel her watching you, her eyes lingering like a shadow under the moonlight.

And though, Arlecchino was now a figure of authority, her blank and stoic nature still a mask that still only few could see past. As time went on, you began to notice how she watched you, how her gaze lingered a little too long, the faint, almost unnoticeable smile that tugged at her lips when she caught you looking.

Yet, despite it all, you were oblivious.

To you, it was still the same Arlecchino, your childhood (best) friend, nothing more. You couldn't see the way she’d lean closer than necessary when speaking, the way her fingers brushed against yours with purpose or how her voice when she spoke to you, had softened, that made your heart beat as fast as ever.

You didn’t understand. You had no idea how close Arlecchino was to snapping, how close she was to revealing everything she’d kept hidden for years. She was. . patient, though. Waiting for you to see it, to understand the signs she was sending. But no matter how many times she leaned a little closer, brushed her fingers against yours, or let her gaze stare in a way that was anything but casual, you remained so damn oblivious.

She watched you laugh it off, the energy radiating from you as if the moment hadn’t never even shifted. Maybe it was because you didn’t know how to read her or maybe you didn’t want to.

After all, why would someone like Arlecchino be interested in someone like you?

It was the way you avoided her gaze this time that finally broke her patience. You could feel it, that heavy, unfeeling, presence she carried, the kind that lingered even when she wasn’t looking directly at you.

Tonight, though, it felt different, impossible to ignore. You shifted in your seat, fingers fidgeting with your coffee in your lap and looking at your papers as your eyes darted anywhere but toward her.

You always did this, pulled away the moment things started to feel too intimate, too feeling, too real.

When her words carried more weight or were more gentle than usual, or her actions felt. . careful in a way you couldn’t quite ignore, you would shy away, brushing it off as nothing. It was easier to pretend it didn’t mean anything.

But tonight, Arlecchino wasn’t going to let you slip away.

The scrape of her chair against the floor made your heart race. Your head snapped up, eyes meeting hers as she stood, her figure shadowed by the light. Each step she took toward you was slow and proper. Her stilettos clicked softly against the floor.

You couldn’t move. Couldn’t think. Couldn't speak.

She stopped just in front of you, her presence overwhelming as she leaned down slightly, close enough that you could see the faint shadows under her eyes, the way her lips pressed together in quiet wanting. Then her hand lifted, hand holding your chin, lifting your face upward.

"Look at me." she said softly.

Her voice was quiet but firm, leaving no room for argument. You froze, glancing away, but her grip was steady, not forceful, just firm. You had no choice but to meet her gaze.

And in her eyes, you saw something that made your breath hitch.

It wasn’t the cold expression she wore around others, or the confidence you had come to expect. This was different. Her expression was. . gentle, soft in a way you’d never seen before, and the weight of it was almost too much to bear for your heart.

"I’ve waited long enough." she said, her tone low, but you could hear the frustration beneath it. And god, was it hot. "You’re not blind, ma chérie. my love You know what I want."

Your heart pounded against your chest, your mind scrambling for something to say, but no words came. All you could do was sit there, wide eyed and trembling, your face becoming flushed.

Her fingers brushed gently along your hair. For a moment, her features softened, the blankness in her gaze melting into something warmer. "I’ve.. been waiting for you to see me." she said, her voice quieter now, but no less insistent. "Tell me you feel it too."

You opened your mouth to respond, but nothing came out. Your thoughts were a blur, tangled with emotions you hadn’t let yourself come to until now.

And then she leaned in.

It wasn’t rushed her movements were hesitated, giving you just enough time to stop her if you wanted to.

But you didn’t.

Her lips brushed against yours, soft and uncertain. When you didn’t pull away, her hesitation faded. The kiss deepened, careful but filled with everything she’d been holding back. One of her hands slid to you waist, holding you, while the world around you seemed to fade into the background.

Your cheeks burned, your breath caught in your throat, and your chest felt like it might burst. You could hear the frantic rhythm of your own heartbeat, and you were sure she could feel it too.

And for the first time, you realized ; maybe you hadn’t been as oblivious as you pretended to be.

nsfw utc

Arlecchino pulled back just enough to look at you, her eyes dark, gazing into your own. "Are you sure you want us to do this?" she asked you, consent is key. ( and there is no other way it should be. ) She held onto your waist firmly.

You nodded, your words caught in your throat, but your actions spoke louder than anything you could say.

"I want to hear you say it. Say you want this, ma lumière." my light

You hesitated at first but, you knew you wanted this. You knew you wanted her.

"Arle.. I, I want you."

You could feel her fingers sliding inside you, you were so tight, so tense. You felt a bit nervous and were holding onto her just as she was holding onto you.

"Relax yourself. . your so tense." She mumbled. She had you on her waist, one of her hands gripping your waist tight and firm as if you were going to run away from her, her breath touching your neck, leaving love bites all over, her fingers soaked from how wet you were. Her fingers were pumping in and out of you, making you squirm and moan , it made you feel so damn filled up with every time they went inside of you.

"S-so m-much... -" "You can take it, it's alright, relax." She said, you were squeezing around her, begging to be fucked into. And the way she was fucking you? You loved it. The way your arms were wrapped around her neck, your lips releasing sweet noises, and the way Arlecchino was stretching your pussy open with her fingers.

"Are you enjoying yourself? Feeling good..?" She said, feeling your tight walls clench her fingers, you couldn't focus on anything else, just the fact she was making you feel so good.

"O-oh Arle.. mm- I'm going to . .- ! " "That's it dove. Let yourself go for me, go on."

"You're staring, dove. Something on my face..?" She asked you, you were panting for air, trying to calm down from your high.

"I love you."

"I love you more."

ugh i need this woman

[ilovepaigebueckerss]

tiktok prank

reader x p.b

summary: reader does that one tiktok prank where you call your partner by your exes name (short blurb)

_____________________________

you propped your phone up and then started the 3s timer.

“okay, so everyone is asking how we met so we’re finna tell yall” you say to the camera, smiling big.

“okay bro- paige, go ahead” you say, cutting yourself off to make it seem like it just slipped out.

paige’s smile faded, and your trying to hold in your laugh.

“who?” she asks, attitude laced in her tone.

“i said paige, now go ahead and tell them baby.”

paige side eyes you, knowing good and and damn well you didnt say paige.

“girl stop playing with me” she says laughing, knowing you’re just trying to get a reaction out of her.

“okay whatever, so anyways” you say continuing the story. “me and brooke met back in-“

“cut the damn cameras” paige says cutting you off. you couldn’t help but bust laughing.

“okay, okay” you say still laughing, trying to catch your breath. you stop the recording and continue to laugh.

“that was not funny” paige says, trying to hide her laugh.

“sorry” you say still laughing, then givng her a quick peck on the cheek.

____________________________

comments:

@paigebueckersss: yall play too much😭😭

@ilovey/n: no cause you could see the fear in y/n’s eyes after she said that😭😭

@icebrady: yall know paige dont play about her girl🤣

@ilovekkarnold: i love them so much its crazy

@kkarnold: paige really said “cut the cameras” 😂😂😂

@wowowow: okay i actually wanna know how they met tho..

see more…

[revelboo]

Do you think Tarantulas does that little feet taps some species of male tarantula spiders do to try and calm their mates into letting them mate?

The little tappy taps would just be so cute

Him gently papping the reader and thinking he’s being so sexy and calming 😂🤭

That’s so cute?! I didn’t know male tarantulas do that and it’s even better if he just starts unconsciously doing it the more reader relaxes around him and accepts him.

Disappear Pt 6

Tarantulas x Reader

• “Maybe we should practice more,” he murmurs, tapping his avatar’s fingertips nervously together as he follows behind you. Further away from the safety of his lair and into the city. His anxiety slowly increasing the closer he gets. The noise, the humans, their vehicles. A living hive moving with a strange order he doesn’t understand. Tensing as you step out of the shadow of a building and onto the sidewalk, he reluctantly follows. Expecting someone to cry out. To react, but humans walk by and ignore him like he belongs. And it’s what he wanted. A chance at a new life. To disappear among them.

• Turning to look over your shoulder and check on Tarantulas, he’s frozen in the middle of the sidewalk as people go around his avatar. “You’re doing fine,” you say grabbing his wrist and tugging to get him moving. “But don’t just stand in the way like that.” Inhaling when he interlaces his fingers with yours and allows you to pull him along. Clinging to you like you’re his safety line. “Relax. You’re doing the serial killer smile again.” And you can’t even explain to yourself why you’d stuck around except that he’d seemed so lonely and that was something you’d understood. That’s a big part of it, but not all of it. You like his quick retorts and wit, his uncertainty and sarcasm. The way he freezes and slowly taps those extra limbs on the ground when you say something that surprises him. Getting used to the creepy spider legs and mandibles and getting over the anxious fear of him. Realizing he really isn’t going to hurt you.

• Staring at your hand in his, he follows you as you point out things in store windows. Relaxed and smiling. And it’s what he’d wanted. To belong among your people. No war. No factions. But he’s not sure it’s that simple anymore. Not sure that’s all he wants. Because he’d still be alone. Among your kind, but always separate, hiding what he really is. Your hand slips out of his as you turn toward a little shop and his spark constricts in his real body hidden in his lair. Afraid that you’re going to run away. Leave him behind. Catching at the back of your shirt so you rock to a stop, he can’t let go. Doesn’t want to be alone again. To be shunned because of who he is. A freak. A monster even among his own.

• When you look back at him, he’s not moving again aside from his hand trembling where he’s clutching the back of your shirt. Maybe there are too many people? Did he get overwhelmed? Turning against him, you cup his face to tip it down toward you. “Hey, you okay, spider man?” You ask, voice soft, because people are staring now. Going around them and paying too much attention to the two of you. What happens if his avatar glitches with people watching? “Snap out of it. You’re worrying me.”

• Soft hands cupping his face. His avatar’s face. And he tips his head against yours, feeling you tense at the contact. For a disconnected moment, he’s trying to curl his extra limbs forward to touch you and they’re not there. “Yes. Yes, I’m fine. I think I just need a break,” he manages and you hook an arm around him. Leading him down an alley and away from the other humans. Taking care of him even though you could have run from him. Escaped. So why hadn’t you? “Thank you.” Those words so inadequate to what he wants to say to you, because the fact that you’re still here with him means so much. Doesn’t want to be alone anymore. Can’t bear it after having you around and he doesn’t just want anyone beside him. Wants you. Wants to keep you as selfish as it is and he can’t ask that of you.

Previous

[charlottes-diary-entries]

Hello love! I absolutely adore your writing, I was wondering if maybe you could do a poly!mauraders x reader where maybe the reader got injured somehow (maybe quditch?) and the mauraders are like all worried and stuff? Totally fine if you don’t want to do it, I just got injured at my competition and I’m feeling sorry for myself 😂

baby i feel your self-pity, i hate getting benched from injuries!! it's the total worst and i hope you heal quickly, but in the mean time here's something special! it turned more into an independent reader struggling with being worried over, but i hope you enjoy darling. <3

CW: injuries, but thats about it <3

The sound of the students in the stands could only be described as a frightening roar during the match. Through some drizzling rain, Gryffindors and Slytherins had poured out of their common rooms by the dozens to witness the match, which had become increasingly intense.

Foul plays from Slytherins, attempts at similar plays from Gryffindor (which James shut down immediately with a reprimanding and a few threats of what practice would become should such poor sportsmanship continue). You had dodged more ill-aimed bludgers than you could count, and as the wind picked up and the rain got heavier, it was all you could do to stay on your broom.

And at some point, even that became unmanageable.

You could have sworn you'd just blinked and suddenly the noise in your ears increased ten-fold, deafening you, and there were these horrible stars in your eyes.

Then you were on the ground, and there were lots and lots of people around you, and you couldn't really see right, and-

"Shit, shit, shit, love! Shit!"

Was that James?

"What happened? What the fuck happened? Was this one of the snakes, because I swear to fuck-"

Sirius?

They kept shouting, until someone else (a professor?) was shouting at them to quiet down. A lot of movement, fuzzy, dizzying movement, then someone was picking you up and suddenly falling asleep felt like a very, very nice idea.

"No, no, no dove, stay up for us, yeah? I don't- Maybe falling asleep isn't a good idea okay?"

Ah, so Remus was carrying you. You tried to lift a hand to your eyes, to hide from the light, or hide from Remus, or something, but you could barely feel your hand. Scratch that, your entire arm felt like it'd been pulled clean off.

Tears began to slip down your cheeks because fuck, now that you thought about it, your head really, really hurt. Your whole body was burning in pain.

"Oh, don't cry dovey, please, don't cry, Madame Pomfrey'll fix you up so quick, you won't even know..."

You lost the rest of his sentence as you began to drift away. Not that you really wanted to, it just felt much, much easier than staying awake...

All that was what had landed you here, benched at Quidditch with a pair of sunglasses on, a nasty cast around your left arm, and what your boys had deemed a permanent frown that worsened by the minute.

You had woken from the concussion very early the next morning to find an extremely frantic Sirius at the foot of your bed. He kissed you and talked while Remus and James were both still asleep, holding hands as they sat by your bed. Apparently, Sirius couldn't sleep he was so worried about you.

(The conversation didn't get much further than that as Pomfrey entered and began to shoo off the boys. Poor Remus and James only got to give you quick "I Love You's" before being firmly ushered out.)

You had been on bed rest the entire day, Pomfrey also dealing with a freak accident from a first-year potions class. Several children with boils and fevers and a need for so much attention that Pomfrey could not spend time brewing fresh Skele-Gro for you, hence, the traditionally muggle healing methods on your arm. Her potion for your concussion was helping you heal faster, but damn did it make every light blinding.

James had determined you banned from Quidditch practice until you were fully healed. While you understood his reasoning, it did not mean you had to be happy about being benched.

"Lighten up please, darling, glaring at them isn't going to make your head better."

You turned to glower at Remus instead, who sat to your right and handed you a cauldron cake. He smiled brightly and bumped your shoulder before kissing your forehead. Your frown deepened immensely.

"Maybe so, but it's certainly making me feel better knowing they know how much I hate this."

"Am I really such horrid company?" Remus said, a cheeky grin on his face. You rolled your eyes (which definitely did not hurt your head) and turned back to watch James and Sirius fly about in the air. You leaned your head on his shoulder and shut your eyes.

"No," You began, "I just wish I could be up there."

Remus's grin dropped and he placed a kiss to your temple before leaning his head against yours.

"I know dove."

You watched them continue their drills in silence and you had begun to eat your treat when Remus spoke up again.

"Though, it is nice to have you for company. I finally have someone else to ogle the boys with."

At this you snorted, looking up again to follow James and Sirius in the air.

"Yeah, they are pretty hot when they do their thing, huh?"

"Very. Very hot."

"Please, Sirius, my arm's fine now, I can carry my own bags-"

"Not if I have anything to say about it."

Sirius held your books out of your reach with a grin and you huffed, crossing your arms as you both walked to potions. None of the boys had let you carry anything the past week, which was sweet and very gentlemanly of them, but quickly beginning to bother you. Especially as Pomfrey had had you up in the Medical Wing very quickly, choking down Skele-Gro so your arm could heal. Was your arm a tad weaker than normal? Yes! Did it make you a helpless doll? Absolutely not!

"I'm completely serious-"

"No, I am!"

"Siri!" You tried to glare at him, snatching at your bag which he expertly kept to himself. "I can carry my own books, really, I'm fine."

"Hmm..." Sirius stopped cold and began to study you, inspecting you from head to toe. He stepped closer, grabbing your chin, which in turn made you gasp a little bit and lose some of your bravado. He tilted your head each way before grabbing your freshly healed arm and staring it down. You went to interrupt when he slipped your hand into his own and began pulling you along.

"Since you want to hold something so bad, you get me until we say you're alright."

You scoffed as an awful grin grew on his face.

"This is ridiculous. It's almost been a week and still."

"Still what, dove?" A new voice popped up, and James sidled up beside the two of you, taking your other hand.

Your face warmed a little bit as he leaned over to place a kiss on your cheek, but you rolled your eyes and powered on.

"Still you're all coddling me. I mean, you have to let me back on my broom someday, James. Can't keep me benched forever."

At this he frowned, growing a little more serious. "Darling, you need rest to heal. You still need those glasses outside and I'd rather play it safe with you. Don't want you mucking up a solid week of getting better just cause you couldn't wait to be back on a broom. It'd make me a bad captain to let you do that, and an even worse boyfriend."

Again, you grumbled, trying to accept their caring as simply that; caring. He placed another kiss on your cheek and swung your hands back and forth as Sirius spoke up again.

"We don't get many chances to worry over you like this darling, let us baby you just this once? Pretty please?"

He flashed you horrid puppy-eyes as James squeezed your hand again. You rolled your eyes, feeling warmth spread throughout your cheeks and neck.

"Just- let's get to potions. Please."

Both boys grinned and began chattering away as you walked. Would it be so horrible to let them treat you for a while?

Yes. Yes, it would.

Because it would seem, after nearly two weeks of resting and healing spent half in your bed and entirely in the arms of your boyfriends, they still were unwilling to let you return to practice fully.

This thought irked you horribly as you sat, hovering on your broom like a first-year, doing slow laps around the quidditch field no more than a meter off the ground. You picked up your pace a little bit, beginning to feel a bit of wind on your face as you thought of how badly you wanted to be doing more.

"Oi, quit it."

The glare you sent James's way was burning with simmering frustration. You proceeded to stick your tongue out at him and cross your arms, as childish as it felt.

He merely frowned in response, turning to watch the rest of the team drilling catching and dodging with some quaffles. Even if he wanted to place all his attention on you, it would've been entirely unfair to the rest of the team. Sirius was also distracted, i.e., finding a little too much fun in their game of dodgeball. (He'd nearly given a keeper a black eye.) Remus was not there to watch today, instead spending his time studying for an upcoming exam.

With all eyes turned away from you, and this endless itch to actually, finally do something, slipping away was a very easy thing to do.

As you began to fly around the grounds of Hogwarts, shooting up into the sky and diving back down to pick up even more speed, you could've sworn the wind wasn't just whistling in your ears. It was whispering to you that slipping away was the right thing.

You whooped and hollered and laughed as you chased your way around the towers and over the Black Lake. You dared to let your hand fall and scrape the inky dark surface of the water, and the resulting splash endlessly delighted you. Eventually, you decided to settle your little escape under a tree by the shore.

A few pants escaped you as your lungs caught up with all you had just done. After, you'd relaxed for maybe another twenty minutes and it felt like nothing could wipe the smile off your face.

"Jesus, dove, there you are."

Alright, maybe nothing.

You turned to find Sirius landing his broom and jogging over to you, and your face slowly began to drop. He dropped to his knees next to you and gave you a cursory glance, and when he was happy with the state of you, relaxed against the tree as well.

The two of you sat in silence for a minute before you managed to speak up.

"I'm not sorry or anything. By the way. And I-" You glanced over to Sirius, before staring forward and plowing on, "I've appreciated you all caring and coddling me but I'm better and I'm sick of being sidelined and babied and- and-"

You looked at Sirius again to find him smiling at you, completely in love. There was so much care in his eyes that it caused you to stumble over your words and past your point completely.

"And... yeah."

Sirius only continued to smile at you. He then sighed a little and wrapped an arm around your waist to tug you into him.

"Sorry we've been babying you, gorgeous." He paired this with a kiss pressed to your temple. "We're just nervous about making sure you're okay."

"I'm okay. Believe me, I am okay now."

"I believe you, love."

"Good."

You relaxed against him and soaked up the day together. There were birds singing in the distance and a light breeze dancing across the grass. It felt peaceful. You turned your gaze to Sirius and pressed a loving kiss to his cheek.

"I do mean it, I appreciate you all worrying about me. Even if you don't need to so much anymore."

"Not a problem dovey," He grinned, still looking out across the lake before he turned to return your kiss. "It's our job as boyfriends. And now, our job is to convince James you're well enough to do more than float an inch off the ground."

A snort escaped you as you laughed at that, sighing and hiding your face against his shoulder.

"He's gonna give me so much shit for skipping out on practice, floating or not."

"I'm sure it won't be all that bad."

Sirius now smirked down at you, unable to resist pressing yet another kiss to your cheek.

"He's completely smitten with you after all. We all are."

oh my god this is a million years late babes, i'm so sorry. between finals and dorm moveout i've been completely swamped. i'm planning on getting back into the fanfiction grind though, so you have plenty to look forward to coming up darling!! all the best!!!! <3

[zepskies]

A Crime of Passion

Pairing: Beau Arlen x F. Reader 

Summary: When Beau Arlen decides to “make it up to you,” he’s damn thorough.

AN: I couldn't help myself lol. I wrote this last night. Here's a quick little drabble for the Take Me Home series, set directly after A Good Man Is Hard to Find!

Based on this request from @jessicalynnann.

Word Count: 550

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Implied smut, fluff, and a murder (of sorts).

Catch up on the TMH-verse: ⤵️

❤️ Take Me Home Masterlist

You just…you couldn’t stop laughing.

“All right, you done?” Beau asked.

You never thought you’d see this man blush so thoroughly. It made you laugh harder, though you tried to stifle it with your hands covering your face.

He had you laid out beside him, still skin against naked skin as the cool air began to dry your dewy bodies.

You were lying against him in an odd position, considering your bed now had a deep crack in the bedframe that ran all the way down the middle. It meant your legs were bent at an angle, almost like you were laying in a recliner seat.

You just couldn’t believe it.

This man had really broken your bed.

In fact, he murdered it. Killed it dead. Though you supposed it was a crime of passion, in this case. (You held in a snort at the thought.)

There were even a couple of screws that had rolled across the tile floor.

“Again, I’m sorry, sweetheart. I promise I’ll pay for a new frame,” Beau said contritely.

The truth was, he was embarrassed beyond belief.

Another giggle escaped you, though you tried to soothe him by caressing his cheek.

“Baby, it’s okay. This thing was old. I’m surprised it survived the move all the way from Chicago, honestly,” you said. The twinkle of mischief in your eyes made his face warm further.

“But how damn lucky am I,” you added, your lips curving. “My man quite literally shatters expectations when he makes love to me.”

And despite the unexpected cracking sound that had left you wide-eyed, it had been a spectacular finish. Even now, you were still tingling between your legs from how hard you’d come on his cock. (Twice.)

You slipped your bare leg between both of his and pressed a sweet kiss to his chest.

Beau fought it, but he had to smile at your words, and your affection. He sunk a hand into your tangled hair, first brushing his thumb against your cheek.

“You sure you’re okay then?” he asked.

“I’m more than okay,” you said. He felt the shape of your smile against his skin. You pulled back to meet his eyes. “Better the bed than my back, anyway. Jesus.”

Beau let out a sigh. Another giggle bubbled over and escaped you. You rubbed his arm.

“Think of it this way,” you said. “Now we can go pick out a new bed together.”

Beau tilted his head at that, and he nodded. A smile grew across his face.

“Now there’s an idea,” he said. It was probably too soon for him to broach the topic of moving in with you, but this could be a good first step.

“Right?” you replied in excitement. But there was something else dancing in your eyes. “We’ll just have to make sure the frame’s reinforced with titanium or something, because goddamn.”

Beau couldn’t help but laugh. He dropped his forehead against your shoulder while his own shook. You held him to you and didn’t bother to try and hide your own amusement anymore.

One thing you knew for sure?

There was no way in hell you’d ever let him live this down.

And one thing he would never tell you…

Beau Arlen was damn proud of himself.

AN: 😂 Well then. That was fun, and I hope you enjoy! ❤️

Keep Reading:

Here’s a one-shot set a couple of months after this one. It’s called S.I.N.G.:

Summary: Beau wishes you’d take this self-defense lesson a little more seriously.

▶️ Next Story: S.I.N.G.

Ko-Fi Me ☕

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[inquisimer]

Happy Friday!! 💚👀

How about: the last thing i want is to see you get hurt. Featuring Arlow and Viago?

thank you for the prompt!! it hit really well, which is to say that it got much longer than I intended 😂 but here we go, from the requisite "Viago routinely poisons Rook de Riva" bit to Angst and Feels and Crow Politics 🤌

Arlow de Riva & Viago | 2035 words | @dadrunkwriting - da4 spoilers

-

Not for the first time, Arlow hesitated outside Viago’s study door. She knew he was within, but her stomach churned with worry and anticipation. She was happy, unbelievably happy, and he had the power to crush that with a single look.

She unclenched her fist and stared down at the ring. Dragon bone, inlaid on a band of intertwined nevarrite and obsidian. Black and purple and gold—the colors of the Crows. But she had always been a Crow; this represented something so much more.

“I can hear you thinking out there. Come in, or go away—do not linger. It’s rude.”

It was so typical, so normal in a way that things had not been for a very long time, it almost erased Arlow’s concerns. Her fingers closed, hiding the ring from view, and she pushed the door open.

Viago had a spread of vials on his desk, and a tray for checking antidotes in the middle of the array. Emil was curled around his shoulders; his tongue flicked out at Arlow in greeting as she shut the door at her back.

“Hello Emil,” she said dryly. “Viago.”

“Come here.” He beckoned her forward with one hand; the other held a pipette filled with a murky brown-green solution. “Perfect timing. I need to test this.”

Arlow eyed the mixture warily. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d laid her up for days with one of his concoctions. But her constitution was better now, and so was his estimation of what was and wasn’t ready to test. Plus, if he knocked her out and the ring fell loose, she wouldn’t have to explain.

She propped herself on the free corner of his desk and opened her mouth. Viago dropped three precise dots of the solution on her tongue and waited, watching expectantly.

“Oh,” she choked, hand coming up to her throat. “That burns.”

Viago quickly scribbled a few notes in his journal. He set the pipette down and cupped her jaw, prying her eyelids back and turning her face toward the torchlight. He hummed, nodding to himself and making a few more quick notes. Arlow’s fist pressed hard against the polished wood of his desk, but the pressure did little for her—the poison might have burned her throat, but it was numbing her extremities now. It hurt, knowing she couldn’t roll her eyes to tell Viago to hurry up with the antidote.

She focused on her breathing. Despite her joking, she didn’t actually want to pass out in Viago’s study—she’d never hear the end of it.

“Okay, now this.” Viago drew a few drops of a yellowish liquid into a fresh pipette—if she had more control of her facial muscles, Arlow would have eyed it warily. It would not be the first time he fed her piss under this guise. But at the moment, she cared more about regaining her faculties, and she didn’t have the control to close her mouth, anyway.

She couldn’t tell how much he dropped onto her tongue, only that when enough of it hit, her nerves started buzzing like an angry beehive. He followed it with a spritz of something clear and vaguely acidic, then handed her a glass of water. She tossed it back, swished, and spit into the bucket on the edge of his desk.

“Well?”

Arlow flexed her fingers, running her tongue around the still-tingling inside of her mouth. “Assuming you wanted instantaneous numbing, I’d say it needs work. Not that I’d be precise or anything, but I definitely would have been able to haphazardly stab someone for at least the half minute you had me sitting here.

And as they both knew, half a minute was more than enough time to kill someone. Viago pursed his lips, nodding and muttering under his breath as he made more notes. “Good, good. Did you need something?”

“Yeah, um.” Arlow licked her lips, letting him think she was still recovering from the poison’s effects. It wouldn’t alter his results that much. But in truth, the sweat on her palms and the shake in her voice had nothing to do with what he’d given her. She took a deep breath and reminded herself that she was an adult and this was a choice she was allowed to make. Whatever Viago decided, no matter how much it hurt, would be on him. “I have to tell you something. And also ask a question.”

Her deliberately evasive phrasing drew his shaper attention as he corked one of his vials and set it aside. He folded his arms and raised a brow at her. “Out with it, then.”

Right. She uncurled her fingers and the torchlight caught fetchingly in the metal edges of the band, danced tantalizingly off the angular face of the stone. Viago froze, and she knew he had stopped breathing.

“That is a Dellamorte ring,” he said after a moment. Arlow’s throat constricted; it was both easier, and not, that he recognized it. “The Dellamorte ring, if I’m not mistaken.”

“You’re not.”

“Why do you have it?”

“Lucanis gave it to me,” Arlow said. “When he asked me to marry him.”

Emil’s tongue flicked out in a hiss; it was the only sound. Arlow pinched the ring between her fingers and held it up. It really was beautiful, and there was strength in both that, and the promise it represented. Barely breathing, she slipped it onto her finger and clenched her fist. “I said yes.”

She forced herself to look directly at Viago as she said it. Not defiance—determination, and respect. Her heart cared about what he thought, but as a Crow she owed her Talon at least this much, and she respected that.

“Of course he did,” Viago finally said. Arlow didn’t visibly relax, but her gut unclenched; he didn’t sound angry. “And of course you did. Mierda.”

His brow furrowed as he studied her, silent, and Arlow deeply regretted not doing this when Teia was around. Teia, at least, always knew what to say, and just said it, right away. And she could read Viago better than anyone—Arlow might suspect what the working of his jaw, or his fingers twitching in their gloves meant, but Teia would know for sure. And would say it, even if Viago wouldn’t.

But this was more than a matter of her personal relationship. Because of who Lucanis was, because of who they were, as Crows, this was a matter of politics. And Teia, dear as she was, was the Talon of another House. This was between Arlow and Viago.

“Are you sure?” Viago’s voice cracked, and he covered for it by stepping forward and taking her hand. His gloves were thick enough that she felt no warmth through the leather; she simply watched as he swiped his thumb over the ring. “I know you have been happy. I know he makes you happy. But he is the First Talon. Tying yourself to him in this way will have consequences. Lethal consequences, if you aren’t careful—and I think we both know you’ve struggled with that in the past.”

Arlow couldn’t help but laugh, soft and melancholy. It was so fitting, and she didn’t even cringe when Viago’s concern sharpened into a glare at her amusement.

“I am sure,” she said, curling her fingers around his and squeezing just once before letting go. “More sure than I’ve been of anything in a long time.”

Viago nodded slowly. “Very well. I—well. I suspect you would do what you wished, regardless of my thoughts. As you always have. I simply do not wish to see you hurt.”

A warmth bled through Arlow and the corners of her mouth ticked up in a slight smile. “It’s just a formality, Viago. If anyone plans to leverage me against Lucanis, they will do it whether I wear his ring or not. And if Lucanis hurts me, he will cut off his own hand before you ever get to him.”

“Good.” Viago huffed. He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “You had a question, as well?”

“I rather thought you would ask it for me.” Arlow bit her lip. “I—well. It’s the matter of Houses, and which one I’ll belong to when this is done.”

Viago’s fingers clenched on the edge of the desk. Around his shoulders, Emil hissed, slithering around his neck in a reaction the distress Viago was holding back. Wordlessly, he removed the snake from his collar and deposited him back in his tank. He stayed there, staring down at the fire rune, back turned to the desk, and to Arlow. “That isn’t a question.”

“Cazza, Viago, do you need me to spell it out for you?”

“Yes!” he snapped, whirling around. “If you are asking permission to leave my House for his, then I would hope you have the decency to say it to my face.”

Okay. So maybe she did need to spell it out for him.

“That’s not what I’m asking,” she said softly. She slipped off the desk and walked to his side. “When you made me a de Riva, you saved my life. You made my life. And you made it one worth living. My heart belongs to that history as much as it does to Lucanis, and I am not so quick to cast it aside.” She took a deep breath. “But—there is only one way in which I truly stay a de Riva, and also marry Lucanis.”

Viago’s lips had parted with surprise as she spoke, an unknowable emotion shining in his eyes. Now, he pursed them, as she led him to the question she was actually asking.

“You want me to give you to him,” her murmured. Arlow nodded.

“But I know what that means,” she added hastily. “I know that it is not a choice, or a promise to be made lightly. If I thought for even a moment that it would be a detriment to our house, I would never ask. But—I do not think it will mean anything that you would not already do.”

She swallowed. “But if you’re not willing… I understand. And I will accept your decision, either way.”

“Well, that would be a first,” Viago snorted. He clasped her by the shoulders, and Arlow was surprised by how clear and certain his gaze seemed. She’d never known Viago to make a decision so swiftly. Usually, there were days of agonizing, debating, considering the angles. But not this time. “Arlow. Pajarito, you think I would let you get away? It was my hand that lifted you into this House, and it was my name that you wore out to change the world. And when I gave it to you—“ he swallowed, throat bobbing awkwardly. Arlow covered his hands with her own, eyes shining. It was the most words she’d ever heard Viago string together at once outside of a lecture and she thought she might be able to live on this forever.

“When I gave it to you, I didn’t know, but I was giving it a life beyond poisons, and scheming, and grief. I would not force it on you now, but de Riva is yours as long as you wish to wear it. And though he is hardly worthy, and it is dangerous, if you are asking, then yes. I will find a pair of gloves suitable to give you to him.”

Arlow threw her arms around his neck, lifting herself up onto tip toes, not caring that he was stiff under her for just a bit too long before he wrapped his arms around her torso and buried his face in her hair.

“Thank you,” she said against his chest. “I—thank you. Thank you.”

Viago drew back, his smile genuine, but worried. “Of course,” he said, even though they both knew no such assurance had ever been real. “Have you told Teia?”

Arlow shook her head, and to her surprise Viago threw back his head and laughed. Then he gestured to the door, grinning a bit too smugly for Arlow’s taste.

“Come,” he said. “I want to see her face when she finds out you told me first.”

[deliciousangelfestival]

Heartfelt Chase - Bucky

Character: agent!Bucky x female!agent

Summary: She tries to find an agent she secretly admires who went missing.

A/N: This story is inspired by the GIF. Lol. 😂

Also, it’s a fun break from the angsty political Bucky.

Main Masterlist || If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee on Ko-fi 🙏🏻

You work as a data analyst at the spy agency. The only reason you’re here is because of your father. You’ve always dreamed of being a field agent like him, especially since his top pupil is none other than Bucky.

You've admired Bucky for years—secretly watching his missions from your screen, hanging onto every move he made.

You've volunteered for every one of his missions, offering to be a bystander, even joking about pretending to be a tree. But the boss always shut you down.

And every time you asked Bucky directly, he’d just say, “It eases my mind if you stay here.”

One day, everything changed. The agency lost contact with Bucky during a mission. You immediately volunteered to go after him, but the boss looked terrified and said, “No. He’s going to kill me.”

You had no idea what that meant, but when nobody made a move, you took matters into your own hands.

You tracked down his last known location and discovered the missing piece: Bucky was tailing an arms dealer who had a bioweapon.

“Damn it!” you cursed under your breath. This wasn’t supposed to be you stumbling upon a hidden bioweapon. And to make matters worse, you had no backup. You were quickly captured.

Thrown into the back of a car, you were bombarded with questions. Your head spun, but you stuck to your story. “I don’t know anything. I’m just here to find my friend.”

The guy questioning you chuckled, clearly not buying it. “Searching for a friend and finding a nuclear bomb? Quite the coincidence.”

You shrugged nonchalantly. “Where are we going, anyway?” You glanced at the empty road stretching out ahead of you.

“Torture room,” he said casually.

“Fantastic,” you muttered. The whole situation was spiraling out of control, and in this moment of panic, the only person you could think about was Bucky. But where was he?

Suddenly, a loud boom echoed behind you. The car jerked, the windows rattling from the explosion.

“What the hell?” your captor yelled, glancing back.

Then you heard it—the unmistakable sound of a motorcycle engine roaring toward the car. You craned your neck to look out the window, heart racing, and there he was. Bucky.

You couldn’t believe it. “Bucky!”

Still driving, Bucky shot you a quick glance, irritation flickering across his face. “Didn’t I tell you to stay?”

“If you’d sent a message, I wouldn’t be here worrying about you!” you shot back.

Bucky sighed like this was the last thing he needed. He pulled out a weapon and aimed it under the car. “Put on your seatbelt!”

Without hesitation, you braced yourself. In seconds, the car flipped into the air, crashing back down with a heavy thud. The world spun again, and everything went silent.

Moments later, Bucky pulled up beside the wreck, dismounted his bike, and yanked the door open.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice gruff but laced with concern. His eyes betrayed more than he let on.

You groaned, unbuckling yourself. “Define ‘okay.’”

Bucky shook his head, clearly holding back a sigh. “This is exactly why I don’t want you in the field.”

You glared at him, hands on your hips. “I’m perfectly capable, Bucky! I tracked you down, didn’t I?”

He crossed his arms, staring down at you, his usual calm exterior barely hiding the concern underneath. “Yeah, and look what happened. You almost got killed.”

You threw your hands up. “You could’ve been killed too! That’s why I came—no one else was going to look for you!”

His expression softened for a brief second before he glanced away. “I can take care of myself.”

“And I can’t?” You shot back, taking a step toward him.

He paused, looking like he wanted to say something but hesitated. Finally, after a long silence, he muttered, “It’s not about what you can do. It’s about what I can’t handle.”

You blinked, caught off guard by his words. “What do you mean?”

He clenched his jaw, still avoiding your gaze. “I can’t handle the idea of you getting hurt."

Your breath caught in your throat. The gruff, distant Bucky was showing a side of him you hadn’t expected. For a moment, you couldn’t find the words.

“You... care about me?” you asked softly.

You stood there, heart pounding, completely at a loss for how to respond. But before you could say anything, Bucky turned back toward his bike, his usual stoic mask slipping back into place.

“Let’s get out of here before more trouble shows up,” he said, swinging his leg over the motorcycle.

Still stunned, you climbed onto the back of the bike, wrapping your arms around him. As the engine roared to life, you couldn’t help but smile, knowing that maybe—just maybe—this mission was worth all the danger.

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