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railingsofsorrow · 8 months

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Recharging. . .

[spencer reid x reader]

summary: spencer's best remedy is his little family.

pairing: s.reid x f!reader (+ eden reid!)

w.c: 3.8K

warnings/content: fluff; cuteness overload; children; spencer is a girl's dad; discussion of a case; mentions of death and traumatic events; this is basically a hurt/comfort blurb; mentions of pregnancy; mentions of marriage; crying.

A/N: is anybody in need of some fluff? this was supposed to be a short drabble.... enjoy this old WIP as I finish some of my requests.

loosely inspired by ocie elliott's take me home

want to read more works about this au?

→ day-off

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You stopped the low humming to the song as you eyed the rearview mirror to check on your kid. The familiar scratching against your seat warning you she was awake.

“Hey bub,” you take advantage of the red traffic light to dive your hand back and tickle her bare feet. She'd always kick off her shoes the first chance she got. Your favorite sound echoes through the car: her giggle. “You were just napping, where'd that energy come from?” you refer again to the tip of her feet bumping against your car seat. Another reminder that she was getting bigger every day.

Eden raised her arms, wriggling her little fingers like she did when she was excited for something. You were pretty sure she got that from Penelope, you always saw they do this whenever she came over to your place.

“We're visiting daddy!”

A laugh bubbles out of you. Eden left you amazed by her perception of things. Although the route from your apartment to the BAU wasn't that strange for her anymore, given that you and Spencer drove a lot to drop each other off with her in the car.

“Are we?” You turn on an avenue, humming. “I didn't notice.”

Eden looks at you through the rearview mirror, “but you're driving, mommy. You need the GPS. It's in your head.”

“Is it?” You're amused at your toddler's choice of words. “Okay. Yes, we're visiting daddy at work. We've come to pick him up because he's very tired from a case and it's not good to drive while you're tired, right?”

“Right!” She nods vehemently, craning her neck to check on the view through the window. “And he needs me to recharge his bats.”

You finish parking your car and a smile curls up the edges of your mouth. Eden can't say the word batteries so she shortened it to an easier version which is bats. You still have to teach her what the word actually means.

“That's right,” you say, taking off your seatbelt and opening the door. By the time you reach the backseat, Eden is grinning like the Cheshire cat. Her excitement never ceases to rub off on you, even though you enter this building most of the days in a week. “Hi, baby.” You cooed, welcoming your child in your arms after unbuckling her seatbelt. Her light brown curls that you have no idea who she got it from tickle the side of your face as she snuggles to your chest to stare at the tall FBI building.

“Shoes on. Coat on. All warmed up. Shall we go up?”

An eager Eden exclaims a loud YES and that's enough for you to start walking.

From “Spencer”:

[6:34 p.m] No need to pick me up, angel, I can drive. I am not that tired.

[6:35 p.m] Is Eden still at your mom's? I can pick her up on the way.

This is the mutual feeling you have on workdays. Not in a million years you'd understand how hard it was to be away from your daughter for more than one day. Until it happened.

It makes your heart break when you're not able to tuck her into bed or pick her up at school to see her excited little legs run towards you. In spite of the fact that Spencer and you manage well to alternate days at work so she always has one of you close by, it's difficult to not see her every day when a case takes either one of you out of the city.

You can only image how much he misses her after being away for four days.

You left the messages unanswered and click on another chat instead. Light of my life with a bunch of hearts is the one you're looking for. Penelope somehow stole your phone someday and changed her contact name to this; you never changed it back, just left as it was, it suits her anyway.

“Smile.” You request Eden as you lift your phone to take a selfie of the two of you. Her grin exposes her two missing front teeth. “Done.” You kiss her cheek and adjust her in your hold to type another text, waiting for the elevator to reach your desired floor.

To “Light of my life 💗❤️💕”

[6:38 p.m] incoming at five... four... three...

You hit send right as the elevator doors spread open.

Just as you step into the bullpen, it's as if a switch has flipped because your daughter promptly tucks her face into the croak of your neck, her cold nose making your shiver slightly. Her hands clinging onto your blouse.

Eden gets shy under watchful eyes, no matter how many times she visits the BAU.

Penelope is walking briskly out of her office, her hands wriggling into your direction as she catches sight of you and the bundle in your arms. Every eye in the bullpen turns to you because of the commotion.

You haven't seen your husband yet.

“There is pumpkin!” That's the reason that pulls Eden out of her shell. She practically throws herself out of your arms and into her favourite aunt's arms. “Oh, hello, hello, my beautiful niece, whom I have missed so much!”

Eden is giggling and you can't help but smile softly at the scene. Soon, your friends start approaching one by one. It doesn't take long for Eden to have at least two new toys in her hands. Emily and Derek are competing which one she likes best.

“She's so big.” JJ entwines her arm with yours.

You sigh, leaning closer to her, “Yes, she is.” You say, observing Eden play with Emily. “Henry as well! How is he by the way? We haven't had a playdate in so long.”

JJ nods, “He's great, my sweet boy.” Her eyes hold a fondness that you relate. “And that's true. We have to set up a date, catch up on things that aren't murders and blood.”

“Preach, Jayge.”

Your laughter dies down when the two people missing from the group appear. Your eyes met Spencer's and his whole body seems to relax as if it physically pained him to stand and seeing you just helped him take a breath of fresh air. Luke greeted you with a side hug and was immediately captured by Eden's endearing spell, as expected. Although, once Spencer entered her line of sight, no one else mattered.

Spencer let his satchel drop to the ground without a care so he could scoop Eden up as she jumped into his arms. His sullen demeanor converting into a cheerful one in a blink of an eye. This is what Eden means by “recharging”.

You watch the reunion with a growing smile, deciding to approach them a little later.

“Hi, sweetheart,” Spencer says while peppering kisses at her cheek, her little nose and her forehead. Eden could only reply with giggles as her whole face became red at the overwhelming love she's receiving. “Daddy missed you so much, did you know that?” And the crack in his voice goes unnoticed by her, but not by you, so you take advantage of everyone's distraction to step towards your little family.

Eden is giving her dad a butterfly kiss when you get to them. That's her way of saying I missed you to any of you when you come back home.

“Hey,” you squeeze his arm in a gentle touch, grabbing his attention. “Tough one?” your question is discreet, only meant for him. Eden is fortunately too busy with her new stuffed toy that Derek is showing her to notice anything else.

The dimmed spark in Spencer's eyes along with the red outline of his eyelids are everything you need to know. You don't need words — you never needed words to understand Spencer — but he provides you a meek yeah and swallows hard. The only thing that seems to be holding him back from crumbling down is the fact that he's holding his daughter.

In an attempt of comfort, you pull his free hand to yours, intertwining your fingers and giving it a tight squeeze. Just for him to know that you were there and it's okay now.

He repeats the action, the corner of his lips pulling slightly. His attention is quickly stolen back to Eden, who starts listing possible names to the new friends that uncle Derek and auntie Emily had gifted her.

They discuss the matter until you bid everyone goodbye, a playdate, a babysitting afternoon and a girls night out scheduled. Trying to take Eden from Spencer was foolish, he didn't want to let her go. No matter how tired he was. Better yet, she didn't want to let him go either.

“I think grapes would be a great name, E.” Spencer praises her daughter's naming skills as he buckled her up in the safety seat. “What about this one?” He grabs the green bunny and places it in front of his face, his voice in a high-pitched tone to imitate an animal's voice. “What will you name me after, miss Eden Reid? I am green and I like carrots!”

Eden's bright caramel eyes glint with joy and she pulls the bunny to her chest, holding it tightly. “I know what I'm going to call them.”

“You do?” You were starting to be curious as well.

“Mr. Greenie.”

“You're so clever.” Spencer and Eden shared accomplice smiles and you see everything of him in her at that single action. It was in the nose scrunch whenever she found something particularly funny, in the spark of mischief in her eyes and even the outline of her mouth which you never stopped noticing from the moment she was born. Eden carried a lot of mannerisms and features from you but those things? They definitely came from him.

He's not even halfway to the driver's side when you steal the keys that he had stolen from you when you were in the building. You've known each other for ten years, for three out of those ten you have been married and Spencer still thinks he can be slick with you.

“You're riding shotgun today, pretty boy.”

His eyes are filled with amusement as you walk by and give his butt a soft squeeze.

“Really?” He says, leaning on your window. You had already turned the engine on when you give him a serious look. “It's a long drive. You already drove all the way here.”

Giving him an eyeroll, you muse, “It's not that long, Spence. And you're tired. Just get in.”

Quantico wasn't far from your home, but ten minutes in the road was enough to send Eden to dreamland. You were certain she had fallen asleep when her humming to Angeleyes, that was playing on the car radio, stopped.

You suppose Spencer has fallen asleep as well, until you stole a glimpse at him during a red light to see he was just staring out the window. A far away gaze.

His mind was far. You could feel that. You two enjoy the silence but it's not like that. This is not the kind of silence you want to bask in after a tiring day of work. No, this is different. It comes with the type of things you face at work, the voices in your head that claim they know what's best.

You know that silence. You've drowned in it once.

A gentle breeze caused a few strands to slip out behind his ear. He was letting his hair grow longer again. You liked it, it suited him.

“Hey.”

Your knuckles grazed his cheek softly, tucking a piece of his hair behind his ear. Your hand lingered at the nape of his neck and he let out a sigh, leaning back in a way that you knew he needed that kind of touch.

Good thing your love language is physical touch.

“You want to talk to me about it?” A whisper.

Spencer refrained from a verbal answer, but he reached up for your hand, lifting it to his lips to place a prolonged kiss which translated to I'm glad to have you.

“Not now,” he said, caressing your palm. Definitely later then. Your communication can be non-verbal sometimes and that's one of the great parts of your relationship. You knew that some days words were hard, so the touch and the eyes fulfilled the void of a voice.

He gave it a delicate squeeze and that's when you realized the light had turned green, so your attention was back to driving.

At some point, you could feel a comforting weight at your right thigh. It was the familiar warmth of Spencer's hand, something that he liked to do whenever you drove. Good thing his love language is physical touch.

“I got her.” He practically leaped out of the vehicle once you parked, walking around the other side to get Eden.

Your asleep child didn't so much as flinch while being picked up. You caught her little arms embracing his neck as you locked the doors of your car, her shoes on your hand and Spencer's satchel on another. He tried to fight you on that but you just ignored him.

“Sleepy head,” you mouth to him as the elevator went up. Eden's big eyelashes fluttered lightly when you kissed the top of her head.

The corner of your husband's lips quirked up, “Just like her mother. Sleeps anywhere.” He said, not breaking eye contact, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

Rolling your eyes, you hummed, “Don't know what you're talking about.”

The apartment was quiet, an unusual occurrence at this time of the day. Normally, Eden would be rambling about her day when one of you arrived from work — I learnt about seagulls today and we made a drawing; grandma made cookies!; Teacher Susan read a story about a princess saving her kingdom, I want to be like her someday. Isn't it like what you do, mama? I want to be like you — a range of subjects mixed with her occasional endless energy of a child. Some nights, she wouldn't stop running around until she tired herself — and both of you — off.

Today was different. She was asleep before you even arrived home, it was way before 8 p.m and the apartment was quiet, no toys scattered around, no ink stain on the floor. She was into painting nowadays which is a rather messy hobby for a kid, but you'd indulge your daughter's wishes anytime. She is a kid, she should be messy.

“I love you, bub.” Your ears pick up Spencer's faint voice from the entrance of Eden's bedroom. You perched up at the wall, careful enough to make yourself unknown. Not wanting to disturb the little father-daughter moment. “I'll always be here.”

That was something that didn't need to be said out loud because Spencer showed that every day. He didn't spare love demonstrations regarding you or Eden, he never had. Although you know part of the reason beneath that promise. Some people haunt us forever, even when they are no longer present in our lives. His father still walks somewhere in the corner of his mind, no matter how many times you tell him that he is not him.

“Is the whole bathroom drenched or...?”

Spencer chuckled, seeking for your hand to pull you closer as you stride to your bedroom.

“It wouldn't be Eden if she didn't make an entire spectacle during bath time.” He said. “But I cleaned it up, so don't worry.”

“That's true.” You eye his soaked shirt attempting to contain a smile. “Guess you already took your shower?”

“You're so funny,” Spencer murmurs dryly.

“Yeah, well,” you shrug nonchalantly, slowly encircling your arms around his neck. “Wasn't that why you married me? Or was it for my good looks? Nah, it was definitely my terrific sense of humour, wasn't it?” A peck on his lips. “You can admit it. I won't be mad.”

“Ego the size of a lake, that one.” He mumbles, burying his face in the croak of your neck and practically locked you in his hold.

You started to message on his shoulders to ease whatever felt heavy in his chest. At least, until he let you in.

It wasn't until after you both showered separately to finally call it a day and laid down to rest that he broke his silence.

“A little girl died. We couldn't get to her in time.”

Oh, kids.

Now it all made sense.

A shiver went down your spine at the thought.

“Oh, Spencer...” if the tone of your voice translated anything, it was that you understood. His body was entangled to yours when you tried to diminish a bit of his pain by showing that you were there. “I'm sorry, sweetheart,” you said into his curls. The moist sensation in your pajamas top let you know he was crying, but you didn't give it a second thought. It was what he needed.

“I could only think of her and I—” he said shakily, suddenly leaning away to cover his face. “Any rational thinking went down the drain.” His croaked out, drying his tears in the harshest way possible. You pulled his hands away from his face, replacing it with your softer touch.

“Spencer.”

“I can't even— even grasp my head around—”

You cut him off, “good. Don't do that. Because it's not real. Spencer,” you cup his cheeks, forcing him to look at you so he could focus on something that wasn't the disruptives thoughts in his head. “Eden is here, in the room next to ours, safe and sound.” That seemed to calm him down lightly, but you could see the conflict in his gaze.

“I wasn't fast enough.”

“It was not your fault.”

“You weren't there.”

You sigh, “I don't need to physically be there to know that you, as well as the team, did your best to crack the case, Spencer. As you do in every other case we have.” The hardest part of this job was still the loss that you had to live with. The guilt. The shame that, despite doing your best, you wouldn't be able to save everyone. “As we always do.” Sometimes, you needed some convincing too.

“I know it's hard to believe what I'm saying,” you forehead was touching his and your eyes were shut. “but it's the truth. You have every reason to feel that way, it never gets easy to face what we face every day. But, Spencer. It was not your fault. You did what you could, please trust me on this, okay?” Please, don't blame yourself. You don't deserve it.

“Our little girl is right next door, sleeping with her favourite plushie. Safe. Because we make sure of that every single day.” You know it's not that simple, to not doubt the dangers that run in the world, probably in your street, but you can't live in fear and you don't want your daughter to live in fear either. “And I'm right here. we're not going anywhere.” You won't lose us.

“Yeah,” he croaks out, releasing a batted breath. “Yeah, I know.”

Slipping an arm around your middle to bring you closer was the indication you needed to understand that he was hearing your words. Your husband settled for accepting your warmth for the time being, you were playing with his curls, gently brushing them away from his face.

That's all he needed, really. You. The home and family you have build together. Nothing else.

“You know,” you say, thumb traveling across his jawline until it reached the tip of his nose. “People keep saying she has your nose and I think I'm starting to see it.”

His body shook with laughter, causing his eyes to crinkle slightly.

“Oh, really? You're starting to see it now?”

Your lips curled up at the edges, “Yes.” You lied, poking his ribs, earning a glare. Your smile only widened. “No. The nose is clearly yours.” He raised an eyebrow and shrugged.

Spencer leaned close enough so he could press his lips to yours.

“She has the outline of your mouth, though.” He tucked a strand behind your ear. “And your eyes.”

Soft padding against the floor pulled you out of your trance and you knew who was at the door before looking through the open space of the door that's been left ajar.

“Is that a ghost that I'm seeing, angel?”

You decided to enter Spencer's playful undertone.

“Mhm. Good question, I think that's definitely a squirrel or something. Look at the red and yellow paws.”

Eden's mismatched socks flashed your eyes in the dim light of your side table lamp. Her soft giggling made you smile instantly.

“What are you doing up, sweetheart?” She curled up to his bare chest as soon as he scooped her up to hold her on his hip. “Mhm?”

She grabbed both of his cheeks, forcing him to lean down so she could say something to him. You observed them with a curious gaze. “It's not a squirrel,” Eden whispered. Spencer's face broke out into a grin, “tell mama it's me.” Spencer nodded and dutifully did as asked.

“Oh!” You exclaimed, acting surprised. “It's you, bub? With these tiny socked feet, I almost didn't recognize.” Eden's shrieks as you pepper her whole face with kisses. “You want to sleep with mommy and daddy tonight?” It's your turn to whisper as if it's a secret, but it's loud enough for Spencer to hear it as well.

Eden nods shyly, resting her head on her dad's shoulder. Her feet wriggling lightly. Who could ever resist those sweet doe eyes?

The three of you then lay down in your bed, Eden engulfed between Spencer and you. Hopefully, she wouldn't kick and turn all night like she commonly did. She was sleeping through the entire night alone in her bedroom, though some nights — like today — she would sneak in to yours.

Just like you expected, the toddler fell into dreamland with your soft chatter about random things you did during the day and what you needed to do during the upcoming week. You cracked a smile at her slight parted lips and wild curls dispersed on your arm which her head was laid on.

“Thank you.”

Your attention drifts from a sleeping Eden to Spencer. His eyes carried their usual light again. They now glinted with a familiar pride rather than the heavy darkness it was drowning in earlier in the evening.

“What for?” Your whole demeanor softened at the way he was looking at you, heart swelling with love.

“This,” he says, eyes falling on Eden. “For this. Her. You.”

You blink, the sudden urge to cry is being hold back by a thread. You don't know how to react.

“You're the best thing that's ever happened to me.” And he's said that before. When you first confessed and he said he felt the same. In your wedding day. When Eden was born.

“And you are the best thing that's ever happened to me, Spencer.” You manage to whisper beneath the crack in your voice. He lifts his torso to kiss both of the single tears that slipped out of your eyelids, caressing your cheek lovingly. “I love you.”

“I love you too, angel.” His mouth stretches into a soft grin. “And I love the life we have built.”

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taglist: @lilyviolets

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A/N: will never forgive the show for not making this man a dad.

#spencer reid fanfiction #reader insert #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid fluff #thinking of making this a series #spencer reid one shot #criminal minds imagine

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doomedmoth · 21 days

Text

Better kind of best friend

Pairing : Reader x Alexandra Saint Mleux x Charles Leclerc | Poly & bisexual fem!reader

Warnings : slight emotional cheating, obsessive/possessive/manipulative behavior, suggestive content/smut, fluff then angst then dark fluff, inaccurate racing calendar and school programs, polyamory, use of y/n

Synopsis : When you left the UK for a year long art restoration program in Monaco, you mainly wanted to make some friends. What you didn’t expect was to find your best friend on the first day. And then fall in love with her. And then get tangled in the web of Monaco high society as her boyfriend came back to town, unaware of your little affairs. What the fuck happened to you, you just wanted to make some friends…

Moth’s prophecy💡: Hi frieeeends, sorry for any mistakes, I haven’t written more than blurbs in a while. The poly, Charles, dark parts and smut will happen in the next chapters, I intend on making three of them. The first is mostly gay panic and tooth rotting fluff, so enjoy before it all goes to shit !!

As you stepped outside of Nice’s airport, you felt like you were finally breathing. The weather wasn’t particularly gloomy when you had left London, but nothing compared to the Mediterranean sun and the breeze of the sea. It had always had an inexplicable calming effect on you, now only interrupted by an old French woman throwing what sounded like insults at you as she moved past you towards the parking lot. The sea, you had missed. French people, not so much.

As you embarked on your second journey of buses and trains to your final destination, you took the time of going once more over the details of what would be your schedule those next few months. After getting your degree in Conservation and Restoration of Cultural Heritage, your parents thought it would only do you good to go practice on the field before even thinking of applying to any museum in the UK. You had gone on vacation on the French south coast a few times with them, and in a surprising but welcome turn of events, the Pavillon Bosio, Monaco’s art school, was organizing an internship welcome to all students of arts degrees in Europe. For your parents, a precious opportunity to add an experience to your CV in a prestigious setting. For you, the occasion to enjoy the beach and make friends in an artist residency after five years of hard work at university. Win-win.

The sun was setting on the hills when you finally settled into your room at the residency. Located close to the school, in the high parts of Monaco, the house was old but gorgeous, with pale pink walls and palm trees everywhere in the garden. Ivy leaves were growing at your window, which gave you a view of the port lighting up in the evening. Three floors high, there were a total of 8 bedrooms, all to be occupied by students of the Bosio program. The two remaining were, according to the brief, residents of Monaco.

You threw yourself on the bed with a sigh, your suitcases not even opened yet. The birds were singing softly and your eyes started to flutter in rhythm with them. If you did not make a move, you would be fast asleep, you thought. Yet it seemed like such an effort…

“Ciaoooo !” You sat straight up from the fluffy bed, meeting a pair of green eyes in the opening of the door “Oh scusa, ti ho svegliato ?”

The girl had gorgeous ginger hair, though likely unnatural, flowing down to her waist, and a mischievous smile. She seemed a bit younger than you, and kept staring back at you until you shook your head and answered.

“Sorry ! Um, English is okay ? For you ? No parlo…” was it even parlo ? You were trying to get your point across, hoping she would forgive your mistakes. “No parlo Italiano ?”

“Aaaah yeah yeah sure !” She chuckled, her accent even richer in English. “I’m sorry, did I wake you up ? I just arrived, it seems like we’re the only ones there…”

“No, no don’t worry, I was just resting my eyes. I did not check the other rooms, are we really ?” She nodded, pouting and crossing her arms. She probably expected a big welcome party. “I’m Y/N.”

“Chiara ! Let’s go have a drink when you’ve unpacked !”

You smiled as the girl waved and trotted downstairs. She was right, unpacking right now would probably be a good idea.

“Cazzo, la mia testa…” Chiara groaned while walking down the stairs from her bedroom to the shared kitchen.

Definitely, you had been right to not follow her in town the day before the start of “classes”. The bottle of wine you downed together in under half an hour had been enough, and when she had left to go explore the nearest bars, you had opted for a swift retreat into your room.

This coincided with the arrival of two other students, with whom you spent the rest of the evening making small talk. Apparently another one had arrived in the night.

The Italian boy you hadn’t met was immediately assaulted by Chiara, who seemed to know him. And it also seemed the feeling wasn’t mutual. You understood almost nothing of their exchange, but it made you and your new roommates laugh quite a lot.

The rest of the morning passed slowly, your shared breakfast only interrupted by Chiara’s flow of anecdotes, and a few exchanges about where each one of you was coming from and what studies you did before. One of the girls you had met the night before was going through the rule book of the residency, staring out loud the facts she found relevant.

It’s only around twelve, as you were all getting ready to head to the school for your first meeting, that the three last students arrived to the house. A few pleasantries were exchanged, a promise of a good meal together tonight to meet properly, and you all left the residency, following happily the little path from the garden up the hills.

The Pavillon Bosio looked more like a huge villa than a school, hidden between the trees. With its cute red roof and stunning view of the sea, you were all in awe as you entered through the gates.

“Bonjour, bonjour tout le monde ! This way please, for the restoration workshop right ? This way, come !” An old bearded man with a thick French accent welcomed you all, guiding you through the corridors of the school.

You settled in a small classroom, tables filled with paper cups, coffee dispensers and pastries. The old man introduced himself as the head of the program, and encouraged you to have a drink and get to know each other while waiting for the last two students. You couldn’t help but notice that some things never change, it’s always the one who live the closest who are the latest.

But you had barely any time to put down your bags and take a coffee before laughter was heard in the hallway, two voices clearly making their way towards you. And as they entered the room, your head started spinning.

There they were, the two monegasques, the last missing pieces of your eclectic little group of students. The man was quite elegant, dressed all in black in spite of the warm temperature, and body dripping with gold jewelry. But the girl, oh the girl… With long straight chestnut hair, and eyes of an even darker shade of brown, she was holding on to her friend’s arms with a delicacy only found in children who grew up bathed in the finest luxuries. She was wearing a white summer dress that did nothing to hide the shape of her body, and accentuated her sun-kissed skin. Everyone turned to them as they entered the room, but it seemed to you her eyes were only on you. The thought that you would have been the first to catch her attention made you blush, and you went on to hide your embarrassment in your cup of coffee.

“Alexandra, Luca, bienvenue ! Toujours un plaisir de vous revoir !” The old man, whose name you had learnt was Jean-Paul, went on to shake the hands of the two students, who he seemed to know already. “Je vous en prie, installez vous, prenez un café !”

The man, Luca if you understood correctly, stayed by the teacher’s side, engaging in a conversation punctuated by loads of “Oh !” and “Ah”, but the girl made her way to you with a determination that made you want to hide under the table.

She lost no time serving herself a cup of coffee and a pastry, and turned to you with a smile brighter than the summer sun. As she put her hand on your shoulder, leaning in to lay a kiss on each of your cheeks, you felt as if all the air had been sucked from your body.

“Alexandra, nice to meet you !”

And just like that, your whole world had turned upside down.

In the days that followed that meeting, all the little group of students started to get along pretty well, getting to know each other from their studies to the role they would play in your year-long project, while also sharing personal anecdotes at night, under the trees of the residency’s garden.

But the bond you felt with Alexandra, that was something else. It was as if you two had known each other forever, everything flowed smoothly, and your passions were either shared by the girl, or met with genuine curiosity and interest. Not even two weeks had passed and you already had little habits, inside jokes and plans for the rest of the year.

In the first stage of the program, the work was mainly research and preparation of the artworks, which meant that except for the mandatory seminars and meetings here and there, you were free to schedule your work time and partners as you pleased. This led to Alexandra coming to the house every morning, having breakfast with you, and going to the school together, or settling in your bedroom with your computers and working, or at least trying, together. If you gave yourself free time, she would take you to museums, or restaurants she enjoyed, or just lying down in parks as she tried to teach you some French. She was kind and patient, and in a desperate wish to get her to like you, you tried to be the best student, reading diligently every book she recommended you.

You quickly realized that although she was a true social butterfly, the whole group of students enjoying having her around, she was much more comfortable when you were just the two of you. She would often suggest you sneak off from team activities, wanting to share the secrets of the city she grew up in only with you. And there was no way you would complain about that. By the end of September, you deeply felt like you had found the best of best friends.

You didn’t know how it got so bad so quickly. No, actually, you did. Alexandra was the worst kind of best friend for someone as prone as you to catch feelings. You had always been quite close physically with your friends, hugging and holding hands were essentials for you to express your affection, but you also knew how weak you could be to pet names and fluttering eyelashes, and with each day that passed, she was making it harder for you to only see her as a friend.

You knew she was aware of her beauty and of how everyone seemed to gravitate towards her, but how could she not realize that the amount of affection she gave you was on the borderline of what would be considered “normal” for a girl friendship ? How could she so casually play with your hair, nails softly digging into your scalp as she lulled you to sleep, your head on her legs in your bed ? How could she lack all sense of modesty, casually undressing in front of you when preparing for a party, and expecting you to help her choose a dress as if you weren’t face to face with her lacy underwear and model body.

You truly despised yourself for ruining such a pure friendship with those thoughts, and desperately tried to remember to not break her trust by being not better than those “nice guys” you had so often dealt with yourself. But what you thought could be a simple physical attraction, something that would pass with a few drinks and the arms of an unknown frenchie, turned into a feeling that burned your insides and made your heart ache a little bit more everyday.

You had so often longed for a soft love, someone who would accept and care for you with the same warmth as you would for them. Friends, good friends, you always had many. Deep friendship, much less so. But the bond you had with Alexandra, you had never experienced it before. You were starting to think that if you had ever felt love before, it had been nothing more than a crush in comparison to this.

You tried to be a good friend. Controlling your breathing when she touched you. Inviting others to your gatherings when you felt you might confess after one too many drinks. Trying not to read too much into her actions, but damn it, she really seemed to be like this only with you.

In the end, what lost you were the pet names. One in particular, she would always throw carelessly as if the word didn’t roll on her lips, sweet like honey.

“Coucou mon chou !”

Waving at you and jumping in your arms, she would repeat the pet name again and again just to see you blush, and who were you to deny her… At first you did not know the meaning of it, and thinking of it, maybe you should have never asked.

It was the middle of October, and you were working with her and Chiara in the school, getting started on repairing some of the minor artworks that were entrusted to you. Well, more like you and Chiara were working, and Alexandra was tagging along out of boredom. With her degree in Art History, her role in the workshop wasn’t as much on the artworks than on their exposition. Which mostly meant your ginger friend was peeling little gold leaves while listening to EDM so loud you could still shake your head in rhythm through her headphones, and Alexandra was glued to you, even in the most uncomfortable of positions.

She had started working on little braids in your hair when, once again, the pet name was used.

“Mon chou, d’you have any hair ties ?”

“What does it mean ?” You asked as plainly as possible, while giving her the hair tie on your wrist.

“What does what mean ?”

“Mon chou. I guess that’s a nickname but you haven’t taught me what it means.” Something good, you hoped. Something sweet.

“No way you don’t know what’s a chou ?!” She grabbed you by the shoulders and you had to follow her movement swiftly in order to not ruin your work “Un chou ? Like… un chou à la crème ?” You nodded no, a bit shameful. You should have looked it up yourself. “It’s a pastry, dear. Something delicious, very airy, the best are filled with cream ? My favorite.” She planted a kiss on your cheek, and you thought, honest to god, that you could die happy on the spot. “Just like you.”

If only this had stopped there. But the next day, when she came to the residency, she snuck the breakfast directly into your room. You had barely woken up when she sat on the side of your bed, seemingly quite excited. She made you sit up and pushed some strands of hair behind your ears before placing the small pastry box on your knees.

“What is this Alex…?” You groaned while pushing back the curtains with one hand, rubbing your eyes with the other.

“Des choux !” She was grinning from ear to ear, and did not give you much more time to comprehend before opening the box. In it, a myriad of little golden cream puffs were staring back at you. “Des choux pour mon chou !” She giggled at her joke and you could not help but laugh too, for the gift was both actually funny, and sweet. “You gotta taste !”

You agreed, but she seemed to have something else in mind as she took one between her slender fingers and brought it up to your mouth. Surely she would not…? And surely she did. Taking advantage of your stupid lack of reaction time, she softly pushed the pastry between your lips, not enough to make you gag on it, yet you could still feel her digit rubbing your bottom lip before making an exit, leaving you dumbfounded and mouth full of the soft cream. Oh yes, you were definitely fucked.

October came to an end, the heavy temperatures and lazy afternoons on the beach leaving place to walks in the old town, cuddled together under one huge scarf. But the evening breeze did nothing to appease the fire in your heart, nor did it slow the speed at which your feelings for Alexandra deepened every day. If not too long ago, you wished for your friendship to stay as pure as the summer sky, now you only longed to confess, lay your heart out before her as a sacrifice, telling her to eat it raw, and the whole of you with it. It was a mixture of love, devotion and desire so strong, she could have asked you to worship her and you would have built a cathedral in her honor.

But you were oh so afraid of ruining everything. If she didn’t return your feelings, that was one thing. But what if she hated you for it ? You could not bear the thought of being apart from her, especially knowing you would still have to work with her for the rest of the year. You would rather eat your feelings than let it happen.

You were still pondering what it could mean for you both when you arrived at her apartment, in the very center of Monaco. You had been there quite a few times, even more recently, to work, to crash after evenings out, or just to have sleepovers, like tonight. It was very well located, and filled with expensive and tasteful furniture, but you did not really like it.

She had explained to you that she did her studies in Paris, and her parents still lived in Monaco. She would also often hang out at friends’ places, in and out of Monaco, and even spend weekends outside of the country quite frequently, with friends as well. The apartment was mostly a safety net, an investment, but you could feel nothing of her in it. It was barely decorated, a bit more those last few weeks now that you two were constantly buying stupid trinkets in token of your friendship, but you did not see her in it.

Yet, as she opened the door and took you instantly in her arms, whispering in your ear, home is the only word that came to your mind.

“Bonsoir mon petit chou”

“Bonsoir louloute” you answered sheepishly with your shitty accent, greeting her with the pet name she had taught you, one her friend Luca often used. It did not mean anything, just sounded cute.

She giggled, taking your hand and leading you inside. Very quickly, through music, wine and hair curlers, the mood for the evening was set. The alcohol made you speak more freely, and hopefully, it would help Alexandra too. Even though she said you knew things about her that nobody else did, there were still many subjects where you could feel her hesitation to delve in. It’s okay, with time, she would trust you about those too, you were sure of it.

She was babbling on about some friends’ drama while sitting on the edge of the window, when you took in the sight in front of you. She had taken off her hair curlers, and put on a satin robe that was slowly falling down her shoulder. The show of lights behind her, flickering between the moon and the glow of the city’s street lamps, made her features stand out even more. Her hair looked so shiny, her skin so soft, and the sparkle in her eye… Nothing she said really mattered, yet you could listen to her for hours and hours, as long as she kept blessing you with this sight.

You must have stared too intensely or for too long, because she came down from her seat and knelt on the floor, right in front of you, softly cupping your cheek with her hand.

“Ça va mon chou ?” Her brows furrowed, and she brought her other hand to your forehead. “You okay ?”

Her hot breath, inches away from your face. Her perfume, tickling your nose, you could almost see it dripping from her neck. Her fingers, drawing small figures on your cheeks. And her lips… there she was, so close, almost face to face, you had dreamt of this so often, and only now you realized how pink her lips were.

Maybe it was the amount of wine, maybe the temperature in her living room, but everything started spinning, and before you knew it, you had closed the gap and crashed your lips against hers. One hand on her small waist, the other in her hair, the kiss was messy, sticky like honey, you wanted to bite and barely restrained yourself. You felt like your heart was about to explode when she moaned into your mouth, and you were pretty sure you felt it drop when she pulled away.

For what felt like an eternity, you stayed silent, panting, eyes locked, air heavy with the realization of what had just happened. She blushed, and you started smiling, before she spoke in a shaky breath, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Y/N… I’m sorry I…. I have a boyfriend…”

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3

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fiction-is-life · 1 year

Note

Congratulations on 500 non-bot followers! I just joined the ranks after reading the angstly little treat you did for @eleanor-bradstreet 🤩

I would like to request a blurb for Anthony from your prompt list. #8 - "Looks like we'll be trapped for a while."

This is so fun!

Trapped and Titillated

Author’s Note: Thank you so much for the follow, love, and for your kind words! I am so glad you liked Touchstone of Our Character! I had so much fun writing this request; it is quite a bit longer than a blurb, but I hope that makes up for the fact it has taken me so long to write it! Enjoy!

Summary: You are trapped with the Viscount.

Warnings: Angst, getting locked in a room, verbal fighting, steamy make out session, brotherly teasing

The door wouldn’t budge. Oh, I knew when that latch clicked, I was doomed. Utterly doomed. And it was all his fault.

“Well, you have done it now, my lord,” I seethed, letting the veneer of polite reserve fall away. It was always thin around him anyway.

Anthony Bridgerton had the audacity to raise one perfect, dark brow. “I have done it?” he intoned, his voice cutting through my rising panic, reinforcing who I was angry at.

“Yes,” I hissed. “You shut the door behind you, and now it is jammed. It may be hours before someone comes by and finds us, and what then?”

He took a step towards me, matching the one I had subconsciously taken, bringing us closer than society would deem acceptable. “As far as I am concerned, I have only done what was my right. This is my library in my home, and I may shut any door I please.”

“Not when an unmarried young lady is in said library - unaccompanied. Or have you forgotten the rules of the Ton while you were busy raking about the kingdom?” I knew I had struck my mark when I saw the Viscount’s eyes darken, his whole body tensing.

“Miss (Y/L/N), you do not know of what you speak,” he said through clenched teeth, and I shivered from the ice in his tone. Anthony certainly did not miss it. “I was raised a gentleman, Miss (Y/L/N), as a member of one of the most respected families in all of England, no less.”

I scoffed and raised my chin and matched his stance. We were practically nose-to-nose with each other. “Well, there must be an exception to every rule, my lord, and I suppose you are it.”

I wanted to take the words back as soon as I said them, terrified at the way his features turned from red-hot anger to a cold, stony silence. I took a shaky breath. “M-my lord, I apologize. I believe I am overwrought from the events of today. Please forgive me,” I spoke in a rush, not daring to make eye contact with those dark depths again.

A long moment passed before he cleared his throat, his complexion returned to a more normal hue but his posture still stiff. “It looks like we'll be trapped for a while, Miss (Y/L/N). We may as well make ourselves comfortable," he spoke in a clipped, quiet tone. For some odd reason, I wished he would have yelled instead.

He must have noticed the look of panicked confusion on my face as I alternated between staring at him and the couches near the fire. “Do not fear, Miss (Y/L/N), I shall strive to reign in my more ungentlemanly urges. Your virtue is safe from me.”

I bit my lip, nodding at his words. They were what I wanted to hear. Right? Oh, dash it! I had never been prone to hysterics before, but something about being this close to the Viscount was making my thoughts and feelings a muddle. So, I did the only thing that felt safe.

I pretended to read.

I believed it was working, too. That is, until the Viscount cleared his throat again. I wanted to roll my eyes at the realization that the smallest of his gestures still commanded attention. I was looked over during a one-on-one conversation, but Lord Anthony Bridgerton could simply breathe in a certain way and every head would turn.

“Is there something you need, my lord?” I asked, my eyes still blindly trained on the pages in front of me so that I missed his growing smirk.

“You must be a great reader, Miss (Y/L/N),” he said.

I raised one perfectly arched eyebrow. “Yes, I do love a good book,” I returned, turning the page.

“You are most certainly a more avid reader than I.”

That made me look up at him, confusion wrinkling my brow. “Why do you say that, my lord?”

He openly smiled now, allowing me to see that little dimple in his one cheek. “I have never mastered the art of reading words that are upside-down.”

“What?” I looked down and finally saw what book I had picked up. It was a tome on new farming practices, and it was indeed upside down.

Well, I could not let him win that easily. “I find I absorb the words much better when it is more difficult to read them.” I looked down my nose as I had seen many women do. “I believe it is important to challenge oneself, so one does not become ignorant and vain.”

His features twisted into a wry grin. “Very true, Miss (Y/L/N),” he said in a tight voice. He crossed over to the sofa I was sitting on and sat down - far too close for comfort. “What are other pursuits that you find are challenging enough, may I ask?”

I knew he was goading me, but I simply could not back down from his challenge. “Any activities I find rewarding, I suppose.” I closed the book and tilted my head, staring him in the eye. “Making sound investments, helping run the household, volunteering for charities,” I listed, not even trying to mask the smugness in my tone. “Basically anything that contributes to society, unlike spending every night at gaming hells or with ladies of the night or -”

His lips crashed onto mine, cutting me off. I felt positively surrounded by him as he crushed me into the back of the sofa, his strong arms encircling my waist and pulling me into him. He smelled of bay rum and mint, and it was utterly intoxicating.

At first, I was too shocked to react, but as his lips moved insistently on my own, I started to follow his lead. He growled when I parted my lips, and my eyes shot open when he darted his tongue into my mouth, but it felt too good to pull away. So, I pulled him closer.

My hands tangled in his dark locks, and when my fingers caught on a knot, Anthony pulled back slightly, moaning. I gasped and pulled back. “Did I hurt you, my lord?” I asked, concerned.

He groaned again, his eyes darkening further. “Call me that again,” he growled, panting heavily.

My face twisted in confusion. “My lord?”

“Yes,” he breathed, his lips finding mine again. His hands wandered this time, sending pings of pleasure straight to my core. I couldn’t hold back my own noises when his strong hands found my breasts, my nipples pebbling embarrassingly.

I lost track of time as Anthony peppered wet kisses down my neck and over the swells of my breasts where my dress did not cover them. He started to work his hand under the skirt of my dress when a crash was heard on the other side of the library.

“Brother! Are you in here? I need to get away from all of the matchmaking endeavours mother has concocted,” the voice of Anthony’s brother, Benedict, was heard. Anthony’s head snapped up, a panicked look in his eyes.

“Stay here. I shall get rid of him,” Anthony whispered before rising from the sofa, straightening his jacket where I had mussed it. “Brother. You find me at an inopportune time. I was just leaving,” he called out to his brother, trying to prevent him from seeing me.

“Why? You already met with the steward this morning. You have nothing else planned until dinner.” Even I could hear the skepticism in Benedict’s voice as it grew closer.

“Well, yes, but I thought I might go for a ride,” Anthony hedged.

“Wonderful! I shall join you!”

“No!” Anthony shouted. “I mean, I was wishing to ride out alone this time,” he finished in a more tempered tone.

There was a long pause where I thought Benedict just may have believed the lie. “Are you sure you want to be alone? Because I think Miss (Y/L/N) might disagree.” I gasped. “I shall see you at dinner, brother, Miss (Y/L/N),” he said, a door closing behind him shortly after.

I sat up with a huff, my cheeks flaming a brighter red than they had been before. “I am sorry; I did not think anyone would follow me here -”

“What door did he come through?” I interrupted what was sure to be a very eloquent apology.

Now, the Viscount’s cheeks turned red and he scratched the back of his neck nervously. “Well, um, he used the hidden entrance in the south wall.”

“Oh, you cad!” I screamed. “Open it. Now, my lord.”

Anthony silently moved toward the south wall, pulling a certain book back to reveal a hidden door. I gathered my dignity about me as I fixed my skirts. I caught a whiff of his cologne once more as I passed him, and for a brief moment, I wanted to turn back. Instead, I held my head high, giving the Viscount one of those superior looks other ladies had mastered. I wanted him to know I was not to be trifled with.

But I knew this was not the end of my encounters with the Viscount.

My Masterlist

#500 Followers Celebration #answered asks #anthony bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton angst #anthony bridgerton smut #bridgerton fanfiction

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repulsiveliquidation · 5 months

Note

hey :) first of all love love love your writing, literally never fails to make me drip lol

also don’t know if youre up for ideas atm but if you are i have an idea for a short (or long) leah blurb based on THAT suit. i can’t get this scenario out of my head: her coming home after the event and riding r’s strap with her open shirt and the tie still around her neck. and just her being needy and desperate to cum.

good excuse.

Leah Williamson x Reader [SMUT! blurb.] not formatted, I did this on my phone. God my head is burning from the bleach. Hope you like this one, that suit was 😩😮‍💨

“You dressed love?”

“Yes, can you help me with my tie?”

“Mm, c’mere.”

You stand in front of here, undoing her collar and tying her tie for her. She smiles, you lean in and give her a kiss.

“There. All done. You look smashing babe.”

“I’ve had it in my wardrobe for a while but I needed a good excuse to wear it, today seemed fitting.”

“You look hot. Like you mean business.”

“You go be a pretty girl on the red carpet and I’ll make sure you’re well taken care of after babydoll.”

Leah comes home way past midnight, a little tipsy from the celebratory drinks she’s had with the girls for Mary’s big win. Alex drops her off, grinning when Leah throws herself at you and immediately starts kissing your neck.

“You’ve got an interesting night ahead of ya. She couldn’t stop talking about coming home to you and having some fun.”

“She did, did she? Naughty Leah, discussing our bedroom habits in public.”

Alex leaves with a loud chuckle, yelling about how she didn’t want to know any more than Leah had already blabbed. Leah had started to strip already, her shirt half open and tie partially undone.

She stands in the door frame, blonde hair framing her face. Her curves are illuminated by the dim lighting throughout the house, casting a soft glow around her magnificent body.

“Hi baby, missed me?” She asks, sauntering over to you while sensually swaying her hips.

“Mhm, did you have a good time angel?”

“The best. But I missed you.” She whines, arms wrapping around your neck with a pout on her lips. “Mary won, did you see?”

“Yes darling, watched the whole thing lovey.” You tell her, gently picking her up. She wraps her legs around your waist, kissing your neck gently.

“Looked so pretty on the red carpet, my girl. Made me jealous I couldn’t go with you.”

“Next time, I’m just gonna bring you with me. Don’t care who sees. Wanna look pretty on your arm.” She slurs as you sit on the edge of the bed. She crawls off your lap, kneeling in front of you. She nudges her head into your lap, resting her head against your thigh. You stroke her hair, leaning down to kiss her cheek.

“What did you tell Alex and the girls we were going to do, sweetheart?”

“Told them I wanted to ride your cock. Maybe have you pound into me from behind while holding the tie because I’m a slut.”

Alcohol made Leah Williamson bolder than she already was. A direct Leah always got what she wanted.

“How about we make that little dream of yours come true hm?”

You stand, pulling out your strap. She liked this one, it filled her in all the right places. You strip and put it on, she watches with glossed over eyes. You sit back down on the bed, she presses her face back into your crotch and begins to kiss the toy. Her lips wrap around the tip, sucking softly.

You run your fingers through her hair as she sucks, her eyes locked onto yours. Your hand rests behind her head, pulling her onto the cock more. She gags, pulling away and grinning.

“I love that sound baby,” you tell her, leaning down to her ear, “do it again.”

She nods hard, sucking deeper on your cock. She gags three more times, slurping noisily on the spit-covered toy. You pull her up, kissing her passionately. She immediately clambers into your lap, cock nudged against her pussy.

Three fingers slip into her, meeting little to no resistance as she’s aroused beyond belief. You grin, fingertips pressed to her sweet spot.

“Oh darling, you’re soaked.”

“Please baby, really need your cock…”

“It’s all yours, baby girl. Go on and ride it, I know you wanted to.”

She suddenly climbs off your lap, turns around and grabs your cock. She whines as she slides down onto it, gripping your thighs tight as she begins to ride.

“Oh fuck…!”

Leah bounces harder, throwing her head back as your cock brushes up against all those lovely little spots inside her. She cries out for you, grasping your knees tighter. You have a tight grip on her waist, helping her ride as your eyes never leave the place you’re both connected to.

A hard spank to her ass makes her legs give out, slumping back onto you. She’s panting and whining, before your hands pull her legs open and pick her up while standing.

You open her legs and hold her up, thrusting up and bringing her down on your cock. She screams, one hand holding onto you as the other fondles her dripping clit.

“Fuck, fuck, please!”

You move her onto the bed, arching her back deep as you immediately begin to pound into her. You grab the spot-soaked tie around her neck and pull on it tight, fucking into her pussy roughly.

With a leg propped up on the bed, you angle into her sweet spot, she cries out and desperately tries to find something to hold onto. You pull her back against your chest, hips grinding into you sweet spot.

“This what you were telling our friends we were going to do baby?”

“Y-Yes!” She croaked out.

“You’re gonna come for me, hm? Gonna come all over my cock, Leah?”

“Fucking hell, yes!”

You pick up the pace, gripping the tie and her arms tight behind her, pushing her back down onto the bed on her front. You bruisingly grip her hips instead, hips jack-hammering into her sloppy pussy.

“Y/N!” she screams, coming hard. She shudders and smiles in pleasure, your hips gently turning into a deep grind to drag out her high.

She slumps into the bed satisfied as you pull out and begin to clean her up.

All tucked into your side in bed, she slips her leg between yours and holds on tight. She’s got fluids in her and two Advils on the bedside table for when she wakes up with a little hangover.

“I love you,” she mumbles quietly into your neck, eyes heavy with sleep.

“I love you too, my girl,” you replied, pressing a soft kiss on her temple, “sweet dreams, my silly girl.”

#woso x reader #woso soccer #woso imagine #woso fanfics #leah williamson smut #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson imagine #leah williamson #woso blurbs

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joeys-babe · 5 months

Text

Joey B Blurbs: Kiss an Angel Good Mornin’

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Summary: Morning vibes. Just enjoying alone time with each other in the early morning while the twins are asleep.

Warnings: fluffy

Pairing: Joe Burrow x reader

Imagine universe: Into The Mystic

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*20 weeks pregnant*

Waking up pregnant and not getting sick is something I will never take for granted.

Especially after getting sick all the time while pregnant with twins.

This morning, what woke me up was the beautiful sun shining through the open blinds.

I admired Joe peacefully sleeping next to me. He had somehow ended up on his stomach, and the sheet was barely covering his waist.

Joe’s mouth was slightly hung open as he snored, and after I watched him shiver, I grabbed one of the throw blankets from the foot of the bed and draped it over him.

A smile formed on my lips when he started snuggling himself into the blanket but started reaching around for something.

“Baby…” - Joe mumbled

His gorgeous blue eyes slowly revealed themselves, and Joe scooted closer to me to lay his head on my pillow.

“You’re far away.” - Joe

“I’m right here, Joey.” - you laid your head on his chest

“Stay here.” - Joe

“I’m not going anywhere, baby.” - you

“Good.” - Joe

A few minutes later, I wanted to say something but I was worried that Joe was asleep again.

“Are you awake?” - you

“Mhm.” - Joe

“I say we don't get out of bed till Tyson or Miles comes in here to wake us up.” - you

“Sounds good to me.” - Joe rubbed a large hand over your bump

“I'm still amazed that I don't have any morning sickness with her.” - you

“Baby Girl wants to keep her mama feeling good.” - Joe

“How very kind of her.” - you giggled

It fell silent once again, the only sounds you could hear were of the sheets rustling because Joe was trying to get even closer to me.

“Babe. I don't think you can get any closer to me.” - you laughed

Joe wasn't stopping and entangled my legs with his as he pressed his entire body against mine. The only thing he wasn't pushed up against was my belly because he was fully aware of the precious cargo stored inside.

“There.” - Joe mumbled

He slowly traced shapes on my bare forearm and let out a content sigh.

“I think it's funny how someone who hates PDA is such a cuddler behind closed doors.” - you laughed

“Next time we are in a public event where a bed is present, I promise to cuddle you.” - Joe deadpanned

“Rude.” - you

I looked up at his face to find him smiling with sleepy eyes.

Rolling my eyes got me nowhere except getting held tighter by Joe, which I didn't think was possible.

Just a few seconds later there were a few little knocks on the bedroom door.

“Mommy?” - Miles

Joe groaned as his alone time with his wife was being whisked away from him.

“I'll be right there!” - you started to get up from the bed but Joe wouldn't budge

Joe was full-blown wrapped around me like a koala right now.

“Babe. Let go.” - you

“5 more minutes.” - Joe whined

“I have to get up and change now.” - you

It took me probably more than five minutes to pry Joe off of me, but even when I did and was on my way to the closet, he followed behind me.

“Yes?” - you

“Please come back to bed. I want to cuddle, and you know I never ask for that.” - Joe

He was right. When Joe asked to be cuddled it was because he truly wanted it.

“You know I can't say no to you.” - you cupped his cheeks in your hands

Joe smiled big and took my hands to guide me back to the bed.

I wasn't even fully lying down and Joe was already wrapping himself around me.

“Joe.” - you laughed

He buried his face into my neck and slowly stroked my bump with his thumb.

“I love-” - Joe

“Daddy!” - Tyson banged on the door

“Oh my god.” - Joe groaned

Joe grabbed the comforter and pulled it over our heads as he heard the door creak open.

“Where’d they gwo?” - Tyson

“They gone!” - Miles gasped

One hand covered Joe’s mouth and my other covered mine to try to silence our laughs.

“Mama… Dada?” - Tyson gasped

“Twy… where are they…” - Miles

One… two… three…

Me and Joe jumped out of bed and ran after the twins who were by now screaming and laughing.

Life with Joe and these boys could never be boring, and that was perfectly fine with me.

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Authors note: bonus fic for today! 💕

Request for this fic;

Hope you enjoyed! 💕

#joe burrow #bengals #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow x reader #joey b #cincinnati bengals #joe burrow fan fic

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pulisicsgirl · 8 months

Text

gonna be the death of me - mason mount

summary: as his publicist, Y/N is willing to do whatever Mason needs to make him comfortable at his latest sponsored photoshoot

pairing: Mason Mount x publicist!reader

word count: 2.4k

warnings/tags: no established relationship, suggestive language, sexual tension(??), they're both down so badly for each other it's insane

requested: no

notes: surprise!!! I think I speak for all of us when I say we were caught completely off-guard by Mason's new Nike ad... 🫣 But anyway, I was inspired by it to write out a blurb or two, but this one just kept going and it turned into a full-length fic 🤭 So... enjoy?? Also, I couldn't pick only one picture for this fic so please enjoy both of these

As a publicist, there was nothing unusual about you attending an event with one of your clients. Especially when it was for a sponsored ad that you’d had a large part in organizing. But something about this one felt different—a nervous, fluttery feeling in your chest as you walked in the front doors.

Maybe it was the fact that it was Mason, a client of yours that you maybe fancied just a teeny tiny little bit, no matter how hard you tried to convince others that it wasn’t the case.

Or maybe it was the fact that the partnership you had organized for him involved him modeling in nothing but his underwear.

Yeah, it was probably that.

In an effort to remain professional, you had done everything in your power to remain cool and collected that day. You had waited for Mason to arrive, meeting him at the doors before the two of you strolled into the building to determine what needed to be done and where he needed to go.

If Mason was honest with himself, he felt like he was a bit out of his depth with this photoshoot. He had never even been someone to parade himself around topless, let alone in only some tight-fitting underwear.

He had agreed to the shoot months ago, when things hadn’t been going so well for him. He had been struggling with his transfer to a new team and thought that maybe trying something new was just what he needed to snap him out of it. Unfortunately, it had taken quite some time to iron out the details, and now Mason’s nerves were getting the best of him.

So when one of the staff involved in the Nike shoot had approached him, a bottle of body oil in her hands, his stomach sunk to his feet. He only half listened as she explained that it would make the shots look more appealing.

“We understand that this can be a bit uncomfortable, so if you’d like to have someone from your team that you’re more familiar with help you apply it, that would be completely fine. If not, one of the stylists can assist you.” She gestured toward the team of people who had put a few light touches of makeup on his face just about 20 minutes ago.

The Nike team had been nothing but wonderful and accommodating with Mason the entire day, and he really appreciated the effort they had put into making him feel comfortable. He was momentarily relived by the alternative he had been offered, but the relief was short-lived when he realized that the only person on his “team” was you.

The staff member guided him to a cozy dressing room just off the hallway from the main area and explained that he could change and leave his things in this room until the photoshoot was over. There were a few sets of the underwear that he would be modeling laid out for him and a robe hanging to the left of the door.

Mason changed and spent the entire time trying to convince himself to just have one of the Nike staff help him. He didn’t want to make things weird. Part of him did want you to rub your hands all over his body, but he didn’t want the first time you did it to be for something like this.

No matter how much Mason tried to muster up the courage, he just couldn’t shake the way that the idea of a complete stranger oiling him up just compounded the nerves he was feeling, to the point that it made him feel sort of sick.

So minutes later, he was approaching you, body covered by the robe that they had provided for him. You noticed, as he shuffled in your direction, that he was fiddling with his fingers, a nervous habit of his. That, combined with the sheepish look he gave you as he stopped at your side, confirmed that he was feeling a bit anxious.

“Hey, Mase. You doing okay?”

Mason had to ignore the way his heart fluttered at both the nickname and the expression of concern on your face.

“Um, yeah, I-“ he started, stumbling over his words a bit. “If I’m honest, I’m pissing myself at the moment.”

Your eyebrows drew together in sympathy, knowing how difficult it must be to be paraded around like this.

“You’re going to do amazing, okay?” you smiled at him, and he only nodded in response. As he shifted back and forth on his feet, you knew there was something else on his mind.

“Um, could you… could you actually do something for me?”

“Anything, Mase. What do you need?”

Having worked with numerous high-profile clients, you learned that when a client asked for something, the answer was always “yes” and if it was something you couldn’t do… well you needed to figure out how to do it anyway. But Mason had never been one to give you much trouble. He had always been extremely kind and considerate of you.

“This is, um… well it’s a bit strange, and if you want to say no that’s completely fine, but,” he paused, taking a brief glance up at your face before he spoke quickly so he didn’t chicken out. “They gave me this oil I need to put over my chest and back and everything and they said I could have someone from my team apply it so it would be someone I’m comfortable with.”

He took another short pause as he tried to gauge your reaction. Your heart skipped a beat as you realized what he was saying. He must have noticed the slight falter in your expression.

His team… you’re his entire team today. He means you.

“If you don’t want to, it’s completely okay. I wouldn’t ask if I wasn’t—”

“Mason, it’s okay,” you rested your hand on his shoulder to reassure him. “I’ll take care of it. Don’t worry.”

“Are you sure?” he asked, still feeling a bit hesitant. “I would really appreciate it. I’m just… I’m feeling a bit nervous about the whole thing, and I’m not overly fond of the idea of a stranger putting their hands all over my body.”

But you are fond of the idea of me putting my hands all over your body?

You mentally slapped yourself, trying to rid your mind of the filthy thoughts that were running through it.

“Don’t worry about it, Mason,” you smiled at him reassuringly, masking the way that your heart felt like it was going to leap out of your throat. “That’s what I’m here for, right?”

That was absolutely not what you were there for.

So that was how you found yourself following Mason into the dressing room that Nike had set up for him.

You couldn’t help the little flutter in your heart as you noticed that, rather than leaving them on the floor, he had neatly folded his clothes in a pile and placed them on a table in the corner of the room. You weren’t sure why that small detail affected you the way that it did.

Mason untied the belt of the robe, slipping it from his shoulders and tossing it over the back of the chair. You cast your eyes to the floor, suddenly feeling flustered at the sight of his nearly naked body, covered by only a tight-fitting pair of boxer briefs that left very little to the imagination.

It blew your mind that anyone who looked like he did could be feeling nervous or insecure about showing himself off. But Mason was merely human, after all, like anyone else.

You did your best to be as calm and causal about the situation as you possibly could. Mason approached the large vanity in the room, pointing you to the bottle of oil he had been instructed to apply to his body sitting on the counter in front of the mirror. You unscrewed the cap, placing a bit in your hand and telling Mason that you would start with his back.

You figured starting there would give you a moment to collect yourself before you had to look at him, face-to-face.

You rubbed the small amount of oil between your palms to warm it before placing them flat over Mason’s back and the touch of his skin on yours felt like an electric shock. You didn’t miss the way that the muscles in his back tensed slightly when you first touched him.

You spread the oil over the soft skin, from his shoulders, down to his waist. As you rubbed it into his lower back, you couldn’t help but admire how the underwear he was modeling hugged his bum.

No! Stop! Get it together, Y/N!

You tried to force yourself to think of anything else—anything other than Mason and his bum and the fact that you were oiling up his naked back.

You began analyzing the kind of oil they were using for the shoot (you had to come up with something, right?). It was sort of light and didn’t make his skin look greasy, like a swimsuit model or anything. It more so had the appearance like he had done a light workout and worked up a thin layer of sweat.

I can think of a few activities we could do to work up a sweat…

You shook your head, trying to snap yourself out of whatever this effect was that Mason was having on you.

Deciding that his back was finished, you stepped around to Mason’s front, pouring a bit more of the oil into your palms and running your hands over his arms.

Then, the only bit left to do was the bit that you didn’t know if you would survive… his chest and stomach.

You discreetly tried to take a deep breath, biting the inside of your cheek as you started at the top of his shoulders, brushing your hands over his collarbones before your hands drifted lower. You felt the heat rushing into your cheeks.

Mason prayed silently that you couldn’t feel the way his heart was hammering in his chest as your palms smoothed over his skin. He felt like every inch of him was on fire as you touched him in a way that was more intimate than you ever had before.

But as he tried to focus on anything other than how much you were putting him on edge, Mason glanced down to your face and realized he wasn’t alone in how he felt.

He watched as your cheeks burned bright red and you refused to look even remotely close to his face. He felt suddenly a bit lighter at the realization that you were just as tense as he was.

“I thought I was supposed to be the one that was nervous here,” he mumbled quietly, attempting to break the tension in the room.

He could tell you were fighting the grin that took over your face almost immediately. “Oh shut up, you,” you tried to keep up appearances, but it fell flat and Mason could read you easily. You both giggled softly.

You finished up the last bit of his torso, smoothing your hands down his sides, over his Champions League tattoo that you tried to admire without him noticing, and across his tummy. You noted the tiny mole on the upper part of his stomach, swiping a finger over it as you brushed the last bit of oil onto him.

You took one step back from him. “Alright, I think that should do it,” you spoke as you tried to wipe at an itch on your face with the back of your hand.

Mason noticed a shining spot of oil that you left behind. He stepped forward, nearly closing the gap between you as he lifted a hand, wiping it off of the tip of your nose with his thumb.

You gazed up at his face, unable to get away with just gluing your eyes to his torso the way you had been before. The look in his eyes was unreadable as he dropped his hand from your mouth to your jaw, just slightly pulling your lower lip down with his thumb, watching your reaction closely.

The tension between the two of you could’ve been cut by a knife. You felt as though you had stopped breathing as the you stood there, neither daring to make a single sound. Your eyes darted around his face, taking in all of the features you had never noticed before. His hand continued caressing your jaw as you held your hands cautiously on either side of him, afraid to make more of a mess with your oil-covered hands.

Abrupt knocking on the door of the dressing room caused you both to jump, snapping out of the sort of trance you had been in.

“We’re ready for you in 5!” a voice shouted from the other side of the door.

Both of you took a step back from each other, suddenly aware of how close you had been standing. Mason cleared his throat and scratched the back of his neck as he tried to gather himself.

“Will you be alright?” you asked, remembering how nervous he had been feeling just a few minutes ago.

“Y-Yeah, I-“ he hesitated for a moment. “Yeah,” he repeated, this time a little more certain.

Seeing how flustered you had been at seeing him the moment he had taken off the robe and how you had blushed at your fingers touched his skin had been the confidence boost he needed to be a little more sure of himself. Seeing the way that you had reacted to him made him feel ready to go out and do the photoshoot.

You watched a soft smile pass over his face, and you wondered what could possibly be going on in that gorgeous head of his.

“Alright,” you giggled at his expression, now seeming much lighter than he had before. “I guess you should head on out. I’ll clean up here and then I’ll be right there.”

Mason nodded, slipping the robe back over his shoulders before he turned to walk out of the room.

With the sudden boost of confidence, he spun on his heel, dipping his head to place a quick kiss on your cheek, and then he was out the door before you had the chance to react.

Your eyes went wide as you took a moment to process everything that had just happened. When you turned to the vanity to begin tidying up, you caught sight of your beet red cheeks. You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath as the biggest grin took over your face.

This boy was certainly going to be the death of you…

tag list:@landoslover @thoseboysinblue @lovelynikol16 @swimmingismywholelife @masonsrem @bracedes @neverinadream @lizzypotter14 @notsoattractivearenti @chilwellspulisic @mm-vii @10vnderhaze

#mason mount #mason mount x reader #mason mount imagine #mason mount fic #footballer fic #footballer imagine #mason mount fluff #mason mount angst #mason mount fanfic #mason mount one shot #mason mount blurb

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runnning-outof-time · 3 months

Note

Thanks for sending this in, Cia!! I’m sorry I kept it in my asks for so long! But I finally figured out what I want to do with it! One of my celebration blurbs, Take the Ring, had a lot of second part requests to it…and while I’m really not a big fan of writing part 2’s to oneshots, I decided to here because the gif was from season 5 and it matched up well. So here’s what I envisioned happening a little bit after the end of the events in that first part. Enjoy! :)

I’D LOVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! - YOUR COMMENTS & REBLOGS HELP ME WRITE!

Keep the Ring

Tommy Shelby x Reader (she’s not present here though)

Warnings: none

Summary: Polly shares her thoughts on what happened in Tommy’s office earlier that day.

“Are you listening, Tommy?” Polly Gray questioned, stopping her pacing to look at her nephew, who was staring straight at the wall in front of him.

Tommy snapped from the bubble he’d been encased in, quickly looking over to his aunt. It took a moment for the question she’d asked to register in his mind, but he nodded once it did. He then returned his eyes back to the wall ahead of him. “Yeah, I’m listening,” he answered in a despondent tone.

Polly pursed her lips and kept her eyes trained on him. She knew he was lying; knew there were other things taking up his mind. Her hands found her hips as she watched him intently, wondering if her stare alone would get him to talk. A few silent seconds passed, and he continued to stare at the wall. “Spill it,” she finally said, a demanding tone present in her voice.

“What?” Tommy asked, looking at her again.

“What’s on your mind, Thomas?” she asked, her eyebrows raising. Tommy opened his mouth to speak, but she cut him off, “don’t say it’s nothing. I know you well enough to know that it’s not.”

A sigh escaped the sitting man’s lips, and he returned his eyes to the wall once more. He wondered for a moment if she’d drop the subject altogether. But she was Polly Gray…she wasn’t going to be standing down until she got the answer she wanted.

“(Y/N) gave the ring back,” he answered her, his words muddled together as he cast his eyes down to the floor.

“She what?” Polly asked for him to repeat what he’d just said, surprise now present in her tone. She knew that Tommy could have been sulking for a number of things, but she didn’t expect it to be about (Y/N).

“She handed me her ring. Called the engagement off,” he kept his dejected tone, trying to make it sound like this was no big deal.

“When?” Polly asked another question.

“Earlier…came to me office in Parliament. I’d…” he paused, letting out a sigh as the earlier events replayed themselves in his mind. He shook his head, unhappy with how he’d reacted to them. “I’d missed one of the things we needed to do for the wedding. I had work to finish; a meeting to go to. She took the ring off and placed it on my desk…said she was finished.”

Polly tutted at her nephew’s response. She shook her head in disbelief. Only Tommy would screw a good thing like that up. “You should keep the ring now. That girl’s given you too many chances. She doesn’t deserve to be roped in again,” she gave her thoughts on the situation.

Tommy just nodded along with what was said. He had no intentions of trying to win her back again…he made that clear when she exited the office and he went to the meeting. That was because he knew that she wouldn’t hear him out. It was clear that she was finished with everything; finished with him. And she deserved to let that be the case. Like Polly had said, he’d burned her too many times before. This was the final straw.

“This work will kill you, Thomas,” he heard Polly say, only then noticing that she’d been giving him another one of her talking-tos. He looked over to her again, just in time to watch her shake her head at him and move over to the door.

His eyes returned to the wall ahead of him as the door opened and shut, leaving him to sit with his thoughts; the ring (Y/N)’d given him back still burning a hole in his pocket.

*tags in reblogs so that they hopefully go out

…sorry if you didn’t like it - this was how I envisioned things happening afterwards.

MASTERLIST

#tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x y/n #tommy shelby x you #tommy shelby blurb #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy shelby fanfiction #peaky blinders #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders x y/n #peaky blinders x you #peaky blinders blurb #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders fanfiction #peaky blinders fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic #take the ring

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babyjakes · 9 months

Text

mess of a lesson.

〈 disclaimer: this blog posts content not suitable for individuals under the age of 18. minors are strictly prohibited from viewing, sharing, or interacting with this blog. for more information on this blog's commitment to protecting minors, read our full statement here. 〉

event | august '23 general requests blurb night

summary | you refused to go before you left, and now you must pay the price.

pairing | soft!dark!daddies!jake jensen and ari levinson x little!reader

warnings | ddlg (two daddies!!!!). uhh, jakey and ari are definitely MAKING her piss/cum so,, dark/non/dubcon perhaps. holding down/restraining. fingering. clit play. anal play/fingering. forced orgasm. squirting+++. watersports: forced wetting (DUH!!!!). so much mocking/degradation holy shit. petnames. praise.

word count | 1,090

dedication | this fic is dedicated to my angel my bby my sweetie pie ms. @brandycranby, ily my fellow piss enthusiast <33

an | absolutely no one asked for this but. here are my favorite soft daddies acting out my deepest darkest fantasy with sweet little reader, i have been dying to write this smutty trio for soooo long (this is a similar matchup/dynamic to daddy!ari, caregiver!jakey, and wren in egem) and at this point fuck it, here you all go. hope this'll help you understand why i'm down so fucking bad for these guys.

"No Daddy— please!" You can't tell who your words are directed at as you writhe weakly against Ari's strong set of arms as they hold you firmly with your back against his chest. As much as you struggle, there's no getting out for you as he restrains you on his lap.

"Easy, baby. Don't make this harder than it needs to be," the brown-haired man hums, managing to hold you securely against him with just a single arm wrapped around your waist. "Quit fighting us, honey. C'mon, be a good girl."

"Oh sweetie," your other daddy murmurs as he sits in front of you. Jake's expression is much softer than his partner's, his gaze full of concern and sympathy as he reaches out and strokes your cheek. "Don't cry, pretty girl. We're gonna take such good care of you, right Ari?" he checks in with the larger man who's guiding your legs apart, holding them open with his own.

"Nooo!" you whine as your flimsy little tennis skirt is flipped up and out of the way. Jake takes a gentle hand and runs his fingers up and down your clothed pussy, nodding expectingly as a dark wet patch soon appears.

"Our poor little baby, she knows what's coming," Ari murmurs against your ear as he reaches his free hand down to join Jake's. "Seems like she's getting excited, Jake. What do you think?"

"Think you must be right," Jake agrees as he reaches down, effortlessly ripping the thin strip of fabric covering your burning heat in half. "There," he coos, using both hands to spread you out nice and wide. "Go ahead," he nods to Ari, "let's help our little girl go potty, hmm? Since she can't seem to know when she needs to, herself."

Ari lets out a low, grumbly hum in agreement as his expert fingers find your pool of juices, dragging up some of your slick to hone in on your little bundle of nerves. "There," he smiles as you jerk against both of the men's ministrations. "Keep holding her open for me, Jake. Just like that, shouldn't be long..."

The tips of his fingers burn against your throbbing button as big tears roll down your cheeks. "Don't cry, sweetheart. You asked for this, remember? How many times did we ask if you had to go before we left?" the sterner man demands. Jake watches with his brow raised, thankful that Ari is willing to be firm with you when needed.

"A-... a-... a-a lot, Daddy," you stammer apologetically.

"Mhmm," Ari nods as Jake repositions his hands, giving the man behind you the best possible access to your aching clit, and the best possible view of your soaking cunt to himself. "And only ten minutes into the drive, we had to turn right back around, because someone started crying about having to go potty. Is that right, angel?" he continues his cruel lecturing. You nod, groaning and whimpering as a familiar tightness begins building somewhere deep in your core. "So this is what you get, princess. You know the rules. Naughty little girls who don't go potty when they're supposed to need to be punished."

"That's right," Jake coos regretfully as he shifts to hold the hood of your clit back with one hand, using the other to gently begin prodding at your tiny rosebud as your wetness drips down between your spread cheeks. "This is just to help you learn, sweet thing. Now, are you gonna be a good girl for us, hm? Be a good girl for your daddies, give them what they want?"

"I don't think she has much of a choice," Ari chuckles as he feels your breaths deepening against him. "Look at her, poor little thing. Her tummy's so full, I bet if we just..." You let out a startled squeak as he moves his arm down to press his muscular forearm right against your aching bladder.

"Nooo Daddy! Please, s-stop!" you howl, but Ari only kisses the side of your head as he rubs your clit in faster, tighter circles, watching over your shoulder as Jake presses a single finger into your tight little bottom.

"C'mon cutie, don't fight us," Jake smiles reassuringly as he gently works his digit against your sensitive inner walls, the burning sensation the movement creates nearly unbearable. "Be good and cum for your daddies. What do you think, Ari? Looks like she's almost there."

"Just a little more, right there," Ari sings as he rolls your hardened clit between his fingers, his sadistic grin growing as he sees you nearing the end of your rope. "There it is. Now cum for us, little girl," his voice darkens. At his words, you snap, your back arching off of Ari's chest as you're forced to release against the cruel hands of your torturers. "There you go, baby. Keep cumming. Fuck, this bitch is really making a mess," he laughs.

"There, that's it," Jake croons after him, both of the men completely mesmerized by the sight of you pissing yourself and orgasming at the same time. "Poor baby girl, was holding in sooo much in that sweet little tummy of hers. It just keeps coming and coming, huh?"

"Sure does," Ari agrees as your contractions finally begin to die down, leaving you a whimpering, breathless mess as you lie limply against your daddy out of pure exhaustion. Once the last of the spasming ceases, Ari brings his hand up to brush your hair back from your face, loosening his arm around you to take pressure off your emptied bladder. "Good girl," he soothes, kissing you again against your temple.

You wince as Jake removes his finger from you, using his other hand to reach up and rub your poor little tummy under your shirt. "Easy, cutie. You're okay; you did it, sweetie! You were so good, such a good girl for your daddies."

"Such a brave girl," Ari agrees, sharing a smile and loving glance with Jake. "She's getting better at it each time. Less fighting and tears, she knows what's best. Don't you, baby?" You nod obediently, earning a pleased hum of approval from both of the men.

"Now let's go get you cleaned off, huh sweetheart?" Jake suggests as Ari slowly helps you to your feet. Your legs tremble beneath you as you look down at the puddle on the floor. "Don't worry about that, baby. We'll get it cleaned up. I think your clothes might need a run in the wash, though. What do you say?"

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weldingmetal · 5 months

Text

Organicfacer

So we call ourselves monsterfucker and robotfucker and what not but how would this happen if transformers were real?

So I wrote this little blurb. This could be for any continuity I think. Send me requests and I’ll see what I can do. Also tell me if ya want to be tagged.

this was inspired by @robot-horde

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

So the Cybertronian and human relations were going as well as they could.

Although there were some protests from humans and a few problems here and there everything went as well as it could. It was recently released that Cybertronians could freely explore earth and whatnot if they did not cause destruction…however there was something the government failed to mention and the bots under all circumstances didn’t expect.

Humans will try to fuck anything that they can.

This led to very…. Interesting revelations. No one knows exactly the bot and human that started everything although many have their money on Hot Rod.

Whoever it was it happened like this. A lonely human sick of their species decided to take a chance and a bots curiosity was burning bright which led to the human confirming that they were a robot fucker and the bot realizing that he could probably never fully go back to hard metal digits.

Thus the term “Organicfragger/organicfacer” was coined on one of the many Cybertronian group chats.

Apparently with the widespread public discovery that the two species genitalia was compatible came many expected and unexpected events.

A human/bot relationship flag

Sites dedicated to Human/bot erotica

Cheesy inaccurate romance novels by Cybertronian and humans alike

Facebooks moms complaining only to do a 180 and always be looking for a bot s/o

Men being mad that femme bots don’t want them.

Memes

TV shows

Cybertronians and humans who only date each other for clout.

The car washing businesses skyrocketing.

So in other words it would be nothing short of sexy chaos

#( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)#hope you guys like this #there would be so much bot/human dating drama #I would live for it #maccadam #transformers #humans are space orcs #humans are weird #transformers prime #valveplug #cybertronian biology #cybertronian culture #robot fucker

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chaoticloving · 1 year

Text

my muse

harry styles x reader (masterlist)

summary: a lil blurb about the important moments leading up to Harry's wins, and little after <3

warnings: implied smut

As they’ve grown up and gotten use to being in the spotlight, Y/n and Harry have learned to enjoy teasing their relationship to the public. They still play dumb in interviews, even when the evidence is stacked against them, but as Y/n and Harry get older, they start to not care about the publicity of relationship.

One of those ways was going to events together. Ever since they've gotten invites to these types of things, their plus one has always been each other; whether it was the grammys or the oscars, they always were right there to support each other.

Tonight was no exception.

Harry was fidgeting with the rings on his figures as they were in the limo, waiting in the queue to get out and walk the carpet. He lifted up the ring on his left ring fingure to reveal a tattoo, one that matched the one on Y/n's same finger.

Y/n noticed Harry’s gazed on the ink and nudged him. “Don’t tell me that’s the one tattoo you regret.”

Harry’s smiled and shook his head. “Never would regret marrying you.” The inked band was delicately done, matching their actual wedding bands perfectly. Y/n took off one of her rings to reveal her matching one too, putting her hand next to Harry’s larger one.

“You’re going to do great tonight.” Y/n reassured. She squeezed his hand three times, a simple thing they did for each other just as a way to show their love. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

They were blinded by the lights before they got the knock of the window from Harry’s security team. For shaded windows they did nothing to stop the bright flashes.

"Ready?" Y/n nodded and slid her ring back on. She followed Harry out of the limo door and put on a smile.

"Harry! Harry! Look this way!"

"Y/n! Harry! Are you two official?"

"Harry! Are you going to go home with Y/n?"

They smiled as they posed for the cameras. After nearly ten years of the "are-they-aren't-they", you'd think they would get over it.

"Hey." Y/n whispered into Harry's ear. "You're doing a costume change right?"

"Yup."

“Want me to give you a pre-celebration present?” Y/n whispered, her voice airy and breathy against her husbands ear.

Harry gulped, not sure if she’s implying what he thinks he is—he’s been caught out too many times with misinterpreting her comments. “What-ah, would that be?”

“Head.”

He gave a flashy grin for the camera.

“Thank you for the pictures but I think it’s time we should go.” Harry announces to the photographers and interviewers lined up. He causes a commotion, but when does he not? He doesn’t care as he grabs Y/n’s hand.

“I think that’s a new record.” Y/n jokes as she fixes her lipstick. “Get off from the couch and fix your hair. You look like a mess.”

“That was so good.” Harry practically moaned, still in his post orgasm high. “That thing you did with your tongue was truly some really great work.”

Harry was spread out on the couch of a small yet lavish room for performers of the night. It had a vanity, bathroom and small kitchen area inside--Harry thought he could live here.

“Nothing fancy.” She mumbled, but Harry wasn't yet done.

“And your hand groping my thighs and balls.” Harry gasped. "So good."

“Styles!” A loud bang, a distinct one at that. “Put your clothes on! I don’t want another Munich situation!”

Harry’s dazed was cut short by tripping over his old outfit—didn’t even take it fully off before Y/n went down on him—and racing to the hanger with his outfit for the evening. He knew that angry pounding on the door, and he did not want Jeff to see him naked again.

Y/n was giggling as she fixed her hair and got some spray to keep her makeup in place. "Stop ya laughin'"

Y/n shook her head as she got up from the vanity chair and opened the door, peeking her head out. "Jeff."

"Y/n." Jeff sighed and stifled a laugh. "Is he getting dressed?"

"Yup."

"Alright, just be out in five. Make sure he looks good."

"Will do."

She shut the door and was met with Harry tucking in his shimmery tank and buttoning the pants. Y/n smiled as Harry looked up, causing him to grin.

"Wha?" Harry grinned, walking over to his love. "Want another round? Could pay ya back."

"As much as I would love that I think Jeff is ready to kill us." They giggled as they lightly kissed, foreheads resting on each other.

"I love you."

"I love you too."

"And the grammy, for Album of the year goes to..." Trevor Noah held his breath as he opened the envelope, smiling as he read out the card. "Harry Styles, Harry's House!"

Applause rang out as Harry cupped his face with his hands and then reached over to topple onto Y/n--who was frozen with shock--engulfing her in the tightest hug they've had since their wedding.

"I-I won." He voice was shaky, breathless despite sitting. "They called my name right?"

They broke apart, staring deep into each others eyes as Y/n nodded, eyes watering. "Yeah, go accept your award!”

She pushed Harry away, towards the stairs and the award. Lizzo was filming their hug and kept her camera focused on Y/n a bit longer before she flipped it round and filmed her face.

"Shit." Harry's voice rang out. "Thank you for this award. Since it's a big one, I want to explain this album a bit more."

Harry cleared his throat before he spoke. "I wrote this album for my person. Someone that has been by my side for everything in my life. All of the big things and all of the things that caused me to go to my lowest, you've been there, and I hope you could tell by this album."

Harry looked at y/n directly, something that was not missed by the room.

"I always keep you in my heart, especially when I can't be with you physically. Writing about you makes it seem like you're there right beside me. And I want you to know how much I love you when we are apart, when you can't reach me or my mum won't let me hang up the phone."

Harry sighed, not sure what to say next, except for one thing.

"For family." Harry lifted up the grammy and applause rang out. He was escorted off the to the side of stage, making sure to catch one last look at his muse. He didn't want to be apart from her for much longer. He wanted to go spend time with her, but of course, photos needed to be done.

He tried to reach for his phone in his pocket every now and then, wanting to call his mum and sister, tell them the big news even though he knew they would be home watching it on their telly—no doubt they were calling Y/n as he poses for some updates on the boy—but he left it with y/n who no doubt was taking a bunch of photos of herself while waiting.

Harry ment everything he said about his family, his with his wife and child, even the little critters that he wasn't too sure of at first; Harry just couldn't believe his life was going this perfect.

Once he was finally released from the photographers hold, Harry ran back to Y/n, making a couple wrong turns along the way, but eventually running in to the girl he was looking for in a small room outside of where they were filming the show.

"I won!" Harry's voice broke, nearly in tears again as Y/n's head whipped from who she was talking to--Adele, who quickly excused herself with a smile-- to embrace her love.

"I'm so proud of you!" They squeezed each other until both could hardly breath. "You deserved both of those grammys, love."

She started peckering a bunch of kisses all over his face, hands now squeezing his so squeezable face. "What do you want to do now? Go back to the show? After party? I got us invited to a couple so you can pick-"

"I kind of want to head home." Harry admitted. "Spend some time with you and the babe. That's all I want now."

Y/n smiled, giving him one last kiss on his little stumble. "Not even sex?"

Thats caused Harry to smile, kissing her cheek. "As enticing as that sounds I think it would be best to keep that for the morning." Harry sighed, starring into the mother of his child, his wife, his love, his one and only's eyes. "I love you. More than anything I could describe."

"You're going to make me cry." Harry's own eyes started to water, kissing the corner of her eye. He pulled her down the hall, to the back, where he organized a limo to be able to drop them off home whenever they pleased. Now seemed like a good time.

Harry came, saw, and conquered. Now, all he wanted to do was spend time at home with the ones who mattered.

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cassiopeiasdaughter · 10 months

Text

invisible string

Theodore Nott x fem!reader

summary: you get married in the middle of the night during the war

warning: this is a complete AU and doesn't follow the events of the books, just use your imagination and go with the flow :) also in case you hadn't already guessed it !not proofread!

Theo masterlist & this is part of the midnights series

small blurb that was inspired by Finnick & Annie’s wedding iykyk

@tencrushesperday @lovergirlie14 I told you I would make it happen

"Marry me.", he whispers in the dark.

His hand going through your hair and the other one drawing circles on your back had been sending you to sleep; along with the steady beat of his heart.

His words however, managed to wake you back up, "What did you say?”

You both stand up and he takes your hands in his; holds them to his face and kisses them.

“Let’s get married, right now.”, he says with a smile

“Theo, we- we can’t just get married right now.”,

“Why not?”, he asks playfully

“What’s gotten into you?”, you ask

“Well, we may die tomorrow for all we know and before; there were many things I considered a total waste of time, like marriage, but now-“

“That we are in the middle of a war and could die at any moment?”

“No, now that I love you and I know that something terrible could happen”, like losing you he thinks but doesn’t say it, buries it deep down, not even wanting to imagine what that would be like. “I want to do everything with you.”

“Let’s get married.”, he says slowly; full of love and promise.

Marry me, and be with me forever, let’s survive this and then go away together. Build a home of our own just how we like it and make love in every room. Let’s do all the boring things we once made fun of. I will buy you flowers every Sunday, and you’ll kiss my forehead before leaving for work. Let’s have kids eventually and teach them what it is like for their parents to love eachother like we do.

Let’s say I love you a million times a day and never let eachother go.

“Alright.” You say and he kisses you.

“But it is very late now.”, you add

“Don’t worry, I will figure something out, get ready and I will wait for you in the garden, in twenty minutes?”

“-Thirty!" you say and jump out of bed in a hurry to get ready.

When you decided to join the Order you didn’t think to bring a wedding gown with you, so the best thing you could do is put on a white shirt, a flowy one, that ties beautifully in the front and has two detailed off the shoulder sleeves. You think back to transfiguration class and extend the shirt with a spell, turning it into a dress. McGonagall should be here to see this you think and move on to do your hair.

You tie your boots, muddy and old, but the only pair of shoes you have with you; and then head downstairs.

As you walk to the garden you see lanterns on the trees lighting up the space, just enough for you to spot Draco and Hermione; the first with an annoyed look on his face and the latter scolding him; as usual

Moving further you can make out Professor Lupin talking to Theo; who is waiting for you nervously.

“Here comes the bride.”, exclaims Draco with a tired voice.

Theo turns his head at that and looks at you with a smile that you quickly return.

“Come on Granger, prepare your wand so we can get this circus over with.”

“Quiet Draco, be patient, this is a beautiful moment that we should all cherish.” said professor Lupin with a calming smile

“I am sorry professor for bothering you this late at night.” , you quickly say

“Call me Remus, dear, we are in the middle of a war, there is no room for such courtesies I am afraid.” He replied “And don’t worry about the time, I couldn’t sleep anyway.”

“I was sleeping just fine by the way not that you cared, Nott, if we survive this war you are in serious debt.”, Draco said with an eye roll

“If we survive this war Malfoy, I will personally make sure-” said Hermione

“Enough children.” Theo cut her off “Draco, if we survive this war I will give you whatever’s left of the Nott heritage.”

“Shall we get started now?” , professor Lupin said with a clasp of his hands

Remus began the ceremony by reading out loud what it meant for two magical beings to entwine their souls forever a bit dramatic if you asked me you thought.

He began reciting the spells and asked Hermione and Draco; the witnesses of the ceremony to join in, as it was mandatory for at least three witches or wizards to engage in the soul binding spell.

To complete the spell it was required for the married couple to join in, by connecting their hands and their wands.

And as you did that you could feel Theo, his energy, feelings; his soul in you as could he.

That is why this is so special you thought. With this matrimony you and Theo will be entirely bound to eachother, a part of you will live inside Theo and a part of him inside you.

You could see him as he realized that too, the way he looked at you, how his mouth was half open, surprised by this newfound sensation inside him; there were chills all over your body and then everything stopped.

The ceremony was over and the spell was finished. You felt the same as before, just warmer inside, more safe.

“You may kiss eachother, now”, whispered professor Lupin.

You smiled at eachother and Theo took your face in his hands, carefully as if holding something of great value. He leaned in slowly and you turned your head to him as you closed your eyes. As your lips touched for the first time you felt everything connect. A thin glowing string tying the two of you together. He kissed you fully then and the string started tying around you two, holding you together, protecting you.

You broke the kiss and he leaned down to rest his forehead on yours, with his arms looping around you protectively.

You didn’t notice Hermione crying at that or Remus looking at you sadly as if missing the other side of his golden string. And you definitely didn’t notice Draco smiling for his best friend and resting his arm on Hermiones shoulder comforting her.

fin

Also, if you would be interested in reading a series about the events that lead to this story and how their relationship came to be lmk, I’d be interested in expanding that into a series

divider by the wonderful @saradika

If you notice any mistakes, I am terribly sorry, let me know

Going on vacation so see you next Monday xx

#theodore nott #theodore nott x reader #harry potter fanfiction #theo nott #theodore nott imagine #Theo nott blurb #theodore nott fluff

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httpsghostie · 9 months

Note

Hi!!! I'm obsessed with your writing, especially all the Ghost stuff. YUM!! I was wondering if you'd be able to write an angsty and emotional blurb with DBF Ghost...Maybe they get into a fight or something

Favorite Regret

pt 1 / pt 2 / pt 3

took me a while to get to this but hope you enjoy it <3

any similarities with sleep token is a mere coincidence I am not responsible for this

Summary: Simon doesn't know how to handle love, so he pushes you away.

Word Count: 1k

Warnings: dbf!Simon 'Ghost' Riley x f!reader, angst/hurt, alcohol abuse, age gap (reader's in 20s and simon in his late 30s) // masterlist

Your story with Simon began a few months back when he returned from his duty and desperately – more like unconsciously, needed affection.

It happened, you were there, emotionally available for you dad’s best friend, it was wrong, he knew it, but Christ you were too good to be true.

Always there for him, dropping off work and studies only to take care of a fever he’d have, pampering him with lots of kisses, making him a warm cup of tea. He was never a physical touch kinda guy, but with you, the way you felt lying peacefully on his chest, he couldn’t help it, he became clingy, almost annoyingly clingy.

And he filled you with empty promises, painting a future for the two of you. He held you in his arms, he let you invade his personal space – which he then called our personal space. You were in fields of elation, but every color seemed to fade as he shut the doors to his heart again.

It’s almost like he determined you were no longer useful, you had given everything to him, you trusted him wholeheartedly, just for him to take it all from you and throw it in the bin.

You hated him, the image of the one you loved and cared for turning black and white as the entirety of your relationship turned meaningless. It’s like he gave you a whole beautiful horizon that stretched ahead in front of you, and then made it disappear from your view, leaving you standing at the edge of uncertainty.

He took what he wanted from you and left.

“You’re not getting it, this is never going to work, your dad doesn’t even know about us, he’ll kill me if he finds out. God, what have I done?” He had his back turned to you as he sat on the edge of the messy bed from your previous actions. You covered your bare chest with the blanket, your face getting red and hot.

“No, you don’t get it, Simon. I’m a fucking adult, and you are a childish, self centered idiot, can’t you see it? You just cared for me when you needed someone to be by your side, and now that you don’t need me anymore, you’re gonna throw what we had away because what? You said so?” You screamed back at him, eyes filled with hot tears that dared to roll down your cheeks.

“Call me what you want, I don’t care. This was a mistake.”

“A mistake? Is that what you’re gonna call me?” Your voice was shaky, and you tried your best to keep your cool. You dressed yourself quickly, still expecting an answer from him, but he just sat there, watching all the events unfold. “What is wrong with you?”

“You don’t wanna be with me, I can’t even stand myself, you deserve someone better.”

“Someone better?” You stood in front of him in denial, crossing your arms, but he never looked at you. “Did I just hear you right?”

“I’ve made myself clear, kid. You should go.” He finally got up, and your eyes accompanied his emerging size. But he still never looked at you, he just walked up to the front door to his apartment and opened it. You slammed it closed, pointing a finger to his face.

“You listen to me-”

“No, you listen to me.” He grabbed the sides of your arms, holding you firmly. His teary eyes staring down into your soul. “Do you think this isn’t hard for me, either? You don’t understand, we can’t be together, I can’t disappoint your father like that, I can’t be with you. I should’ve never texted you in the first place.”

And the way he spoke made you inhale a familiar smell escaping from his lips. Whiskey.

“Simon, are you drunk?” You cried.

“Go.” He finally let go of your arms, leaving your skin almost bruised.

You brushed your arms and headed to his kitchen, trying to find the bottle that was shoved in the trash can. You picked the empty whiskey bottle, noticing a discarded pack of cigarettes — empty, too, and smashed.

"You drank half a bottle?" You raised the object to your head, he looked down, rubbing his eyes. "Unbelievable."

"You're still young, you have a prosperous future ahead of you and I won't be the one to hold you back." He said quietly, fighting back the tears and the agonizing pain in his chest.

"God, you talk like you have a terminal disease." You scolded, leaving the bottle on the kitchen aisle and grabbing your stuff from the couch. "Maybe you do, Simon, maybe your terminal disease is not being able to accept love. Maybe your terminal disease is you becoming the one who you swore you'd never become."

It came out strained, and you didn't realize you were comparing him to his father until his hand gripped your wrist tightly. He looked deep into your eyes, and you could see how pissed he was.

"I'm not him. Get out." You pulled away and he opened the door one more time.

You didn't comply, your eyes desperately tried to find the loving Simon you knew, the one who held you close in the night, the one who couldn't stand your cheesy movies but still watched them with you. But he wasn't there, the version you saw in front of you had killed the previous one. The Simon you knew was dead.

"Simon, I didn't-"

"Get out."

Now he screamed, almost spitting out, his hot tears flooding his eyes and rolling down his red cheeks.

He stood outside the apartment watching you clumsily press the buttons on the elevator, giving him one last glance before finally walking away.

A mistake. That's how he said it. This relationship was a mistake, and you were his favorite regret.

taglist: @butterbunana @snoisisabitch @nuhteyam @iamabsolutelynothere @blissful--moon @jellyluvr @khomugi @xaintxun @kichimiz @frog-spot @sasukeswife3 @aly0be

#ghost simon riley #ghost x reader #simon riley #simon ghost riley #ghost cod #cod x reader #cod modern warfare #cod fanfic #cod mwii #cod mw2 #ghost angst #dbf ghost

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