#Car removal in Black Hill

[williamssmith01]

Car For Scrap in Cardiff

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[5bcarremoval]

Old Car Removal in Belmont

5B Car Removals has emerged as the best platform to sell a junk/wrecked car. Get a handsome amount of money upon selling your junk car. The best thing is that you will get an instant cash offer from us for your wrecked car. It is time to go with the best way to sell your car anywhere in the city.

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[fairene]

do it for you / ln4 sneak peek

established r. lando norris x f!reader

warning ⋯ language, 18++ mentioning,minors dni.

a/n ⋯ do it for you is a recent ask that i got that absolutely transitions into the lando!dad series that i've been wanting to create. of course, all of these 'oneshots' can be read separately, but can also fall into a canonical storyline. also--- holy shit!! grace isn't dead!! yes, i know!!! i'm just as shocked as you guys are. but i can feel some groove coming back, but this probably won't be posted fully until the following week. hoping to get it to about 5-6k words before posting!

wc ⋯ 720

the morning of the dutch grand prix had you biting at the corners of your fingernails with anticipation. the summer break you had spent with lando was more than you could imagine— filled with delicious foods, sunny weather, morning swims, and of course, the sex. with more free time that lando had, he was utterly obsessed with you. he worshiped the ground you walked on, and it made you feel like more than the queen you deserved to be. 

in the paddock you stood, shifting on your feet, anxiously fiddling with your purse once your fingernails sufficed. lily joined at your side, ethereal with her effortless beauty, and she nudged you with her elbow. “you look nervous,” she gave a short laugh.

you scoffed but joined in on her antics. “do i?” you certainly did. lily raised her brows to inquire further of your apparent distress. 

relenting, you couldn’t resist her. there was no reason to— you were both practically attached at the hip. ever since oscar had been signed to mclaren, the two of you were inseparable. the famous mclaren WAGs. 

your relationship with lando had been going on for two years now. sure, you’d had some rocky slopes to climb with the schedule of his career and the development of your own; that’s the thing about relationships though, isn’t it? that no matter what hill you’d have to climb, you’d find one another on the other side. the two of you wanted to make it work, so there was no obsolete universe in which you’d never find each other. 

“he needs this, lils.” you practically sighed, finally gaining the courage to look her in the eye. she looked at you with the same softness that a mother would, or a best friend that you could count on. 

“you know he’ll do well.” oh, don’t you know it. lando, whilst on vacation, never took a moment’s worth of rest. he wanted this just as much as you did for him, a second career win. it was all that you could think about the moment you stepped off the plane before him in zandvoort. it was going to happen. you had a feeling. 

and a good one at that. 

qualifying swept by in a flash. the saturday afternoon was a clean sweep for your boyfriend in the front row. you couldn’t be more proud of him. when he was finished with his interviews and taking his leave with his half removed fireguard, you launched at him.

flinging your arms around his neck, he gripped onto your waist and thighs like his life depended on it. it did. your nose found the sweat against the column of his neck, inhaling deeply. you melted into him.

lando felt the same. with his forehead burrowing into the hair on your scalp, he let out a deep breath that he’d been holding since he got out of the car. 

“missed my sweet girl,” he breathed, the sweat and perspiration heating the hairs on your head. you sighed softly, relaxing into him as he held you tighter. 

you broke away from him, setting yourself on the ground. you stood happily in front of him, rocking on your heels and playing with the hem of the black, sponser-ridden firesuit. 

“‘m so fucking proud, lan. pole? pole on the first race back?” you were in shellshock, overjoyed disbelief. 

he raised a hand to cup your face before he’d be whisked away. the bracelet on his wrist caught your eye, one that he must’ve put on once he stepped out of the car. the friendship letter bracelet read loudly to you, it letters all capitalized. 

‘daddy’

you gripped his hand, observing the ornament. you raised a brow. 

lando let out a short laugh. “like it?” 

you flushed, staring down at the small, dainty thing. it had you shifting on your feet, ideas and fantasies running wild through your pillage of a mind. “maybe.” you hummed, stroking the beads with your index finger. 

“wore it for you.” 

the statement had you standing up straight. “really now?” lando nodded. 

and before he was whisked away, he whispered into your ear, “don’t get any ideas, baby. i know that look.” 

you were rendered speechless, and by the time you managed to open your mouth, he had already left through the door.

taglist ⋯

@landoslutmeout@basicallyric@mybluesoul1@toriiez@customsbyjcg-blog@sofs16@strengthandstay@mybluesoul1@f1fantasys@cmleitora @idgasb @amalialeclerc @laneyspaulding19 @staurdvst @oreosareara @sideboobrry11 @mortallyblueninja @fionamiller123 @2pagenumb @marvelfangirl04 @brune77e @allabouthappiness @tellybearryyyy @ringdingdingdingx @tillyt04 @danywonderland @rosebud224 @simpfortoomanymen @nataliambc @forcesensitivesoulmate @sweate-r-weathe-r @norlestappen @madszoca @milkandcookhot @fionamiller123 @16f1lc @jwiltsz @plotpal @inevesgf @theonottsbxtch

comment to be added!

[earthchica]

Funny How Times Files | 6

terry richmond x black, fem!/plus size reader

Summary: You and Terry have been togather for two years now. Terry thinks it's time to expand and take the next big step in the relationship.

warnings: explicit smut (18+), dirty talk, making love, romantic vacay, fluff, engagement, anxiety, insecurity, weight gain, mention of pregnancy, nicknames (baby, baby girl) words: (3k)

note: one more part left.

series masterlist

You and Terry have been happily together for two years; your relationship has flourished, building a stronger bond filled with love, warmth, joy, and countless cherished moments.

Recently, Terry mentioned that he has planned something special for the upcoming week, which he hasn’t revealed yet. You can’t help but feel excitement as you wonder what he has in store.

"Terry, are we there yet?" you asked, your voice tinged with excitement as he helped you out of the car. The sun's warmth enveloped you, trying to adjust to the bright light.

You felt his hands gently remove the cover from your head. "Yes, we are here!" he proclaimed, his voice filled with enthusiasm. As you turned to take in your surroundings, your breath caught.

Before you stood a stunning white villa, its green window shutters contrasting beautifully against the pristine exterior. The villa had a commanding view of the beach, with the waves lapping gently at the shore.

You and Terry were at the Round Hill Resort in Montego Bay, Jamaica—a place that Maya and Cam had raved about. You had been bubbling with excitement to experience it.

You glanced over at Terry, who wore a broad smile that lit up his face. "Oh, Terry, I love you," you exclaimed, your heart swelling with joy as you jumped into his arms, feeling safe and cherished in his embrace.

"I love you too, baby. Come on, let's get checked in," Terry said, his voice warm and inviting. After checking in to your oceanfront king room, decorated in elegant all-white tones, you settled in, marveling at the breathtaking view from your private balcony.

“Oh my goodness, this is beautiful!” you squealed, your eyes wide with wonder as you took in the picturesque sunset, which painted the sky in shades of orange, pink, and purple.

"We should watch the sunset after dinner!" you suggested, your excitement bubbling. Terry stepped closer, wrapping his strong arms around your waist, drawing you near.

“And in the morning, we can watch the sunrise!” he added, planting a soft kiss on your neck that sent shivers down your spine. “Yeah!” you nodded enthusiastically.

Witnessing the beauty of the sunrise and sunset every day fills you with bliss. This entire vacation felt like a dream come true, especially after the busy routines you both had been caught up in.

You embraced the thrill of jet-skiing, enjoyed lively matches on the tennis court, unwinded at the luxurious spa, and savored exquisite meals together; each moment seemed to blend seamlessly into the next.

You took countless pictures during this trip, capturing memories you would treasure forever. With a smile, you admired yourself in the mirror, feeling a sense of contentment.

Tonight marked your 2nd anniversary, and Terry had planned an incredibly romantic dinner on the beach for the two of you. As you prepared.

You decide to style your hair in protective long curly twist braids and put them in in an updo, enhancing your natural beauty with a light touch of makeup.

You chose a sexy, short white dress that complemented your dark-brown skin, making you feel radiant and confident. You took one last look in the mirror, knowing you would drive Terry wild.

“Hey—wow…” Terry exclaimed, entering the bathroom, his eyes widening at seeing you. He wore a gold chain, a colorful button-up shirt underlining his toned physique, and white shorts.

Terry always looked incredibly handsome. “How do I look?” you asked playfully, twirling to show off your outfit. He approached you, his gaze filled with admiration and a hint of desire.

“You look absolutely gorgeous,” he said, his voice smooth and sincere. “And the dress?” you teased, raising your brows while motioning to the fabric that hugged your figure.

Terry stepped closer, his hand brushing against the fabric of your dress. “It looks good enough to rip off,” he replied with a mischievous grin.

Terry placed his hands on your plump waist and kissed your neck softly. “Terry—” you moaned softly, feeling the warmth of his affection ignite a spark within you.

You reminded him, “We’ll be late for our dinner!” You gently pushed yourself away, trying to catch your breath. Terry bit his lip, his eyes glinting with playful mischief as he nodded in agreement.

“You’re right, but you’re in for it when we return,” he said, his voice low and alluring. You couldn't help but smile, knowing he knew what you were doing.

“Okay, big daddy,” you teased, quickly moving out of the hotel room before he could react to your words. You rushed ahead, laughing as he followed, a lust glint in his eyes.

You and Terry left the hotel suite and headed to the beach for a romantic dinner. The sound of the waves and the soft glow of the candles set the perfect mood.

As you and Terry sat at the beach, the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm golden hue over your dinner setting. The rhythmic sound of the waves crashed gently against the shore.

“Yo, this place is beautiful,” Terry said, a soft smile spreading across his face as he looked into your eyes. “I'm so happy we’re able to travel and explore beautiful places like this.”

“Right? It feels like a dream,” you replied with a light laugh, reaching across the table to hold his hand. “And I love how you make everything feel so special.”

Terry squeezed your hand, his eyes twinkling. “You know, I’ve been thinkin’…we’ve been together for two amazing years now, and you mean the world to me. I'm ready for that next step?”

Your heart raced at his words. “You mean like marriage, Terry?” you asked, a teasing smile on your lips. “What? You trying to put a ring on it?”

Terry chuckled, a bit shy yet confident. “Yeah, you already know how much I love you and how much you mean to me.” He leaned in closer, brushing your cheek.

“And you know how I want to spend the rest of my life with you, have a family, the whole thing. I want to become a reality.” You felt warmth wash over you, the air filled with romance.

Terry grabbed your hand and motioned to get up, his expression serious yet filled with love. He knelt on one knee and pulled out a small velvet box without warning.

“So, what I’m tryin’ to say is…will you marry me, baby?” He asked, and you gasped, brimming with happiness as you realized what was happening.

The world around you faded away, leaving just the two of you and the crashing waves. “Yes, Terry! Yes, of course, I will!” you exclaimed, tears of joy filling your eyes as he slipped the ring onto your finger.

Terry got up, pulling you into a passionate kiss before holding you in a tight embrace. You both stood there, wrapped in each other's arms, as if time stood still, surrounded by the moment's beauty.

You and Terry enjoyed the rest of your dinner. Eventually, you both returned to the hotel suite and couldn't keep your hands off each other.

Terry, being the pleaser that he is in the bedroom, had already made you cum two times. "That's it, baby. Be a good girl and spread your legs for me," Terry said, slapping your sensitive pussy.

Let out a moan as your plump legs spread wide open as far as you can. Terry stroked himself and began sliding his length up and down your pussy lips before thrusting slowly deep.

You moaned while staring up at him with desire. "You like it when I go deep inside those guts, baby?" Terry asked, his voice was low and sensual.

"Yes, Daddy! yes, Fuck me. It's so deep, Dick is so good." You cried, throwing your head back in pleasure, still holding your legs, and he chuckled, pinching your nipples.

"You are so beautiful, you know that. I can't wait to have you as my wife so I can give you all the babies. Would you like that baby?" Terry asked, thrusting up harshly, making you moan louder.

"Yes, Daddy, I want to have your babies!!" You moaned with a slight chuckle of joy, feeling good he still wanted babies with you. Terry smirked, coming down to kiss you and wrapping your legs around his waist.

You pulled away, tilting your head to the side as Terry picked up the pace, going faster and harder. "You are so good at loving me, Terry. You are gonna be such an amazing husband and father. I know it."

"Fuck, baby! you don't know how much that means to hear. I feel so incredibly loved by you; you're gonna be a great wife and mother. I'm glad you’re all mine," Terry said, getting emotional and kissing you.

You pulled away, giving him a look, and already felt your orgasm forming. "Do you wanna cum, baby?" Terry asked, slightly sitting up to look down at his dick going in and out of you.

"Ahhh yes," You cried in response with a moan, trying to hold off until you couldn't anymore. "Beg for it; tell me how much you want to come, baby," Terry said.

He sat up fully, placing his hand around your waist as your fingernails dug into his arms. "Please, Daddy," You whimpered; you couldn't hold anything longer.

"Please, what?" Terry asked seductively. "Please let me cum, Daddy," you begged with tears in your eyes, gripping his wrists, feeling your legs shake and tense up.

"Fuck, cum baby," Terry moaned, feeling his orgasm coming. "Cum on this dick, clench it. I love it when you do that, baby," He whispered, going to kiss you softly.

"Ahhh, Terry!!!!" You moaned, muffling his name while your eyes rolled in the back of your head. You felt yourself clenching his throbbing dick, and the most fantastic orgasm rip through you.

You were coming from your high; Terry kept thrusting and thrusting, grabbing your waist harshly and making you arch your back. "Mmm...I want to be filled with your cum; get me pregnant."

Terry moans at your words, pounds you into your pussy undeniably, reaching for that climax. "Shit, baby girl Are you sure? Because I'll give it to you if you want it."

"Yes, Daddy, give me all your cum; give a baby, please," You moaned, pulling him down into a kiss, and that was all he really needed to go over the edge.

Terry pulls from the kiss and moans in your ear as he shakes from spilling his seed inside you, causing both of you to moan. You place your hands on his back, caressing him as he calms down.

Both of you lay there for a few minutes until he finally pulled out and flipped onto his back on his side of the bed. You looked over at him, and he looked at you with those eyes.

He smiled as he reached to rub your belly. "Hopefully, I succeeded," Terry joked, still trying to catch his breath. You giggled playfully, hitting his chest before going in for a kiss.

-

Two weeks later, after returning from your trip, you and Terry excitedly announced your engagement to both of your families and mutual friends.

They were all so happy for you and him that you immediately began planning the wedding. After a few more weeks, you started to feel sick.

As you lay in bed, feeling hope and unease, Terry sat beside you, gently stroking your hair. "You good, babe? You have been lookin' a little out of it," he said, concern in his voice.

“I don’t know, Terry. I-I just got this feelin’ in my gut,” you replied, biting your lip and placing your hand on your belly. “That I might be pregnant or somethin’.”

Terry raised an eyebrow, leaning closer. “For real? Do you think so? You wanna take a pregnancy test?” He asked, looking cupping your cheek.

You nodded, heart racing. “Yeah, I think I should. Just to know for sure.” With that, you got up slowly and headed to the bathroom, holding your breath.

You took the pregnancy test and set a timer for three minutes, anxiety bubbling inside you like a pot about to boil over. Those three minutes felt like hours, just as you were about to check.

Terry knocked gently on the door. “Is everything okay in there? Are you good, baby girl?” he asked, and you opened the door slightly, the test hidden behind your back.

“I…I think I might be,” you stuttered, feeling the tears welling up in your eyes. “I just—” Before you could finish, you pulled the test out, your hands trembling.

“Terry, I’m pregnant!” you blurted out, tears streaming down your face. He stared at the test in disbelief, his eyes widening before a huge smile broke across his face. “No way! Are you serious?!”

“Yup! Look!” You laughed through your tears, and Terry’s face lit up joyfully. “Baby, we gonna be parents!” He pulled you into a big hug, his own eyes misty.

“I can’t believe this, I’m so happy! We’re gonna do this together, you and me.” Terry said, kissing your face, causing you to giggle. “I know, I know! It’s a lot to take in, but I’m so excited,” you said, comfortingly.

A few days later, you had your first ultrasound appointment. As the nurse put the gel on your belly, Terry held your hand tightly, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on your palm.

The nurse pointed to the screen and showed your baby. Terry’s eyes filled with tears of joy. “Look at that!” he exclaimed, his voice shaky. “That’s our baby right there!”

“Yeah, it is!” You smiled, feeling the warmth of his happiness. “I can’t believe this is happening. We’re going to be a family,” Terry said, wiping his eyes.

“This is the best feeling in the world, I love you," he said, coming down to caress your hair. “I love you too, Terry. You're gonna be great, Dad,” you reassured him, feeling your heart swell with love.

Later that week, you planned a special announcement at your engagement dinner. You could feel the excitement as family and friends gathered around the table.

You exchanged glances with Terry, who gave you a reassuring nod. “Hi, everyone, can I have your attention for a moment?” you called out, your heart pounding.

“Terry and I have something special we would like to share with you all! "you said, and everyone turned to you both, waiting in anticipation.

You glanced up at Terry, who was grinning from ear to ear. “We’re having a baby!” both of you said simultaneously. There was a moment of pure silence.

The room erupted in gasps and cheers. Sasha and Bryce were the first to say, "Congrats to you two!" Following them, Maya and Cam shouted from the back, "No way, congratulations!".

Then your parents and Terry's parents congratulated you, their excitement infectious. The room was filled with laughter, joy, and happy tears.

As the celebration continued, you felt a wave of comfort knowing you were surrounded by so much love and support. Terry looked down at you, his eyes sparkling. “We got this!.”

“You know it!” you exclaimed with a bright smile, leaning in closer to capture their lips in a tender kiss. The warmth of the moment enveloped you both, solidifying the promise of your love.

-

A few months passed, and you and Terry decided to move up the wedding date. The excitement and nerves were palpable as you headed to your wedding dress fitting your mom, Maya, and Sasha.

As you stood in front of the mirror, a wave of insecurity washed over you, tugging at the edges of your confidence. The wedding dress, a stunning creation adorned with delicate lace and shimmering embellishments, hung elegantly on your frame.

Yet, despite its beauty, it felt somehow off, as if it were meant for someone else. You studied your reflection closely, searching for that spark of joy you had anticipated, but instead, a sense of uncertainty clouded your thoughts.

You couldn't shake the feeling that, even in such a beautiful gown, you were still searching for the right fit—not just in fabric, but in how you truly felt as a bride.

You frowned, pulling at the fabric, and the slight weight gain from your pregnancy struck you. “I just don’t look right,” you muttered to Maya, who stood nearby, her eyes wide with concern.

“Girl, what you talkin’ ‘bout?” Maya asked, stepping closer, a comforting hand on your shoulder. “You look bomb! This wedding dress is made for you!”

“Sweetheart, don’t listen to that little voice of doubt in your head,” your mom said softly, moving closer to you and wrapping her arm around your shoulders. “You’re a stunning bride, and I promise you’re glowing with happiness today!”

Sasha, standing nearby with a warm smile, nodded in agreement. “Right! You’re radiating love and joy. Anyone who looks at you can see how beautiful you are!”

Despite the warmth of their words and the love surrounding you, a wave of emotion surged through you, causing tears to well up in your eyes.

“I just feel…different,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper as you bit your lip nervously. “I don’t feel pretty in this dress. I feel fat and ugly.”

Sasha shook her head vehemently, her curls bouncing as she turned to face you. “No, girl, don't say that,” Sasha reassured you, her eyes sparkling enthusiastically.

“Just wait until Terry sees you. He will be on the floor when you walk down that aisle!” She added, approached you, and gently wiped away the tears streaming down your face.

A heavy sigh escaped your lips, your heart feeling like a lead weight in your chest. “I just don’t know,” you murmured, uncertainty swirling in your mind.

“Let’s take some time to think about this,” your mom suggested gently, her voice calm and grounding. “We’ll come back another day. For now, head home and relax, sweetheart.”

You nodded, grateful for her understanding and support. “Okay,” you agreed softly, a small smile tugging at your lips as you made your way to change back into your comfortable clothes.

Once at home, you found yourself curled up on the couch, tears streaming down your cheeks. The weight of everything felt overwhelming.

It wasn't long before Terry walked in, and the sight of your tears stopped him in his tracks. “Baby?” he called softly, rushing over. “What’s going on? Are you okay?”

You sniffed, trying to compose yourself. “You’re going to think I’m crazy, but I just… I don’t feel good about myself. I don’t feel pretty for the wedding.”

Terry sat beside you, concern etched across his face. “Ain’t no way, baby girl. You are the most beautiful woman I know! Talk to me, what’s goin’ on?”

“I dunno, it’s just with the pregnancy, the wedding, and everything; I just feel like I ain’t good enough or pretty for you.” You buried your head in your hands, overwhelmed.

Terry removed your hands and gently lifted your chin so you’d look at him, his eyes whole of warmth. “Listen, baby, I love you, no matter what. You have this glow that nobody can take from you."

"You’re my whole world, and I know when I see you in that wedding dress, it's gonna take my breath away.” He continues. “You think so?” you asked, wiping your eyes.

“Absolutely. Now, let me make you some lunch. You need some food, especially our little one,” Terry said, standing up, as he headed to the kitchen.

Terry called over his shoulder, “And I’ll rub those tired feet of yours too!” You couldn’t help but smile. “You better!” A five minutes, he returned with a plate of your favorite food, setting it down in front of you.

“Here, eat this up,” Terry said, grabbing your feet and resting them on his lap. “I ain’t lettin’ you get away with feeling down ‘cause you deserve to feel like the queen you are.”

Terry started gently rubbing your feet, his touch soothing. “You have always been beautiful to me, and I never cared what size you were—I love just how you are. You are beautiful, baby.”

You couldn’t help but beam as you watched him, feeling your heart lighten. “You always know how to make me feel better, Terry. I love you so much.”

"That's my job, baby girl!" he said with a playful grin, leaning in to plant a soft kiss on your lips. His eyes sparkled with joy as he continued.

"And I love you too. I can't wait for the day we marry each other, get to make you Mrs. Richmond." His words warmed the air, making your heart flutter, excited about the future you both dreamed of.

[strniohoeee]

Amorous

Pairing: Chris Sturniolo X Female Reader ⚠️SMUT⚠️

Synopsis: Chris and Y/N never have alone time, so they decided to go for night drive, and take a pit stop🤫

Warnings⚠️: this is smut based on my request I just got! It’s obvious there’s sex, but it’s nothing intense. It’s pretty short imagine too🫶🏽

Song for the imagine: Wus good/Curious-PARTYNEXTDOOR

⚠️This is a 18+ imagine so minors DO NOT INTERACT⚠️

Chris and I had been dating for about a year now, and we loved spending time together going on dates, shopping, watching movies together, laughing and overall just enjoying each other's company. However he did live with his brothers, so they would usually join us on certain things like movies and games.

Although Chris had the downstairs room it still made it insanely impossible for us to have true alone time. Matt and Nick always wanted to sleep in his room, or stay with us watching movies till 3am. We loved them dearly, but sometimes Chris and I really needed alone time, and by that I mean we really needed to have sex

The last time we actually had decent sex was a good two months ago, and it was decent because as soon as we finished Matt came barging in the room looking for something of his he left the night prior. So it 100% ruined any lasting mood we might’ve had.

The most we have been able to do in the past two months was over the clothes stuff, and 10 minute quickies in the shower, but we were yearning for some dirty intense love making.

Chris had asked me if I wanted to take a drive with him. Honestly I wanted to stay home, but I know what he wanted, and I knew Nick and Matt would be home soon, so I agreed.

It was 9pm when he decided to take us for a “drive”

“Where are we headed baby?” I asked him as I shuffled his music library

“I’m thinking that little secluded area up on that hill” he said looking over at me

“Ahhh yesss where everyone goes to fuck” I said laughing

He sucks his teeth and looks at me “babe”

“Sorry! I’m serious though. Are you taking me there to fuck?” I said wiggling my brows

“I mean…..we can’t get more than 10 minutes alone, and I really need to fuck the shit out of you” he said glancing over at me

“True. I’ve been needing this too” I said kissing his hand that I was holding

We had gotten up to the hillside, and surprisingly there were no cars, and it was pitch black. All we could see were the city lights overhead

Chris had put the car in park, and turned the outside lights off, so it was extra dark, but he turned the lights on, on the inside.

“You looks so good right now” I told him as the warm light reflected off his facial structure and his blue eyes

“Oh yeah?” He said in a smug way

“Let’s go to the back,” I said. We got out of the car and opened up the back doors, putting down the seats in the van.

We both hopped back into the car, and immediately Chris pulled me down into him to kiss him. As we were kissing Wus good by PARTYNEXTDOOR started playing

“Look at that! It’s a sign” he said with a goofy smile

“You’re so corny” I said before going back to kissing him, he started to kiss down to my jawline and neck peppering light kisses. We slowly started to remove our clothes

I started palming Chris’ dick, but he grabbed my hand and stopped me

“Although this feels so fucking good. I’m trying to cum from fucking you, so please no more with the hands” he said laughing

“Sorry baby I can’t help myself” I said kissing him again

“Want me to fuck you, or you wanna ride” he asked? Massaging my boob

“Can I ride” I asked moaning as he’s groping my breasts

“Fuck yeah” he said. I didn’t need much foreplay because I was so dick deprived just looking at Chris had me wet

I hovered over his cock, and he helped me align himself to my entrance, and slowly I started to sink down onto him. My mouth falling slack at the stretch

“Fuck Chris I forgot how big you are” I said as I bottomed out

“Don’t boost my ego baby” he said, grabbing my chin and pulling me in for a kiss. I began to bounce on his dick immediately moaning at how good this felt

“Chris you don’t know how badly I needed this” I said as I continued to bounce on his dick

“Fuck Y/N use me. Milk me of all my cum please baby” he said running his hands up my sides and gripping my breasts

“Oh fuck” I said throwing my head back

I started to clench down On Chris, and he let out a whine that sent shivers down my spine

“Whine like that again, and I swear I’ll fucking cum so hard” I said looking down at him. He had both his hands behind his head propping his head up a little bit.

“Fuck if it means I get to see your beautiful face as you cum all over me I’ll keep doing it” He said biting his lip

I moaned at this and started grinding against him. My clit hitting his pelvic bone in a delicious manner. I continued to clench down on him as I grinded against him. His dick pounding against my g spot

“Chris im gonna cum, I’m gonna cum, can I please cum” I asked grinding faster

“Yes baby cum, cum for me please cum all over my cock” he said in such a raspy voice, and with that I was cumming all over his cock. Shaking and falling limp down on him.

Chris grabbed my ass and pounded up into me chasing his release, and this made me moan from the over stimulation, and hearing Chris’ grunting in my ear

“I think I’m going to cum again” I said sobbing into his neck

With that Chris came in me whining and moaning and shaking, and seconds later I came on his dick for a second time a mixture of our cum running down his dick

“That was so well needed” he said kissing me as we came down from our highs

“Oh god yes. I don’t know how I lasted that long” I said slowly starting to sit up, so I could get off of him

“Me neither, I needed that badly” he said as I got off of him searching for something to clean us up with

“Oh Matt left napkins in the glovebox” he said, and I reached over grabbing napkins to clean ourselves off with

After cleaning ourselves off we got back into our clothes and fixed the back seats. Chris threw the napkins on the floor outside

“Chris don’t litter” I said getting back into the car

“Oh yeah let me carry around a cum covered tissue to properly dispose of it” he said sarcastically

“Oh shut the fuck up” I said smacking him on his arm

As we got situated and he turned the car lights back on he got a call from Nick

“Sup bro” he said as he put the car into reverse

“Where the fuck yall went we have a car video to film” Nick said

“Oh shit my bad I didn’t realize the time. Y/N and I went out to eat and then went to see a movie” he said lying straight out his ass

“Yeah well it’s 12pm get home so we can film” Matt said from a distance

“Alright we should be back in 20. Be ready to hop in so we can film” they replied with okay, and he hung up

“Chris they’re going to know we fucked” I said laughing

“No they will not! We cleaned everything up” he said grabbing my hand

“Yeah let’s hope” I said blushing

After 20 minutes we arrived at their house, and he reached out to his brothers saying he was ready to pick them up. They got to the car, and hopped in the back seat.

“Y/N I MISSED YOUU” Nick said all giddy

“I missed you too Nick” I said laughing at him

Matt got in the car, but squinted his eyes before saying anything

“It smells like sex in here” Matt said looking at both Chris and I

“What the fuck you saying kid” Chris said

“It smells like sweaty hot sex” he said laughing, and Chris reached back to smack his brother

“Shut the fuck up” Chris said

“Omg omg wait yall fucked in here” Nick said getting loud, I slightly nodded at him

“OH MY GOD YALL FUCKED IN HERE AND I JUST SAT IN HERE AND PUT MY SNACK DOWN IN THE AREA YALL FUCKED IN?? IM SICK” Nick said screaming and thrashing around

“Nick shut the fuck up and calm down” Chris said getting annoyed

“CALM DOWN I DONT WANT TO SIT WHERE YALL FUCKED” he said pretending to cry

“Grow up” Matt said laughing at him

After 10 more minutes of that. They decided to finally drive to a location and film their YouTube video. Nick is ever so often being reminded of what just went on an hour prior.

And all Chris can do is give Y/N small smiles and flirty smirks here and there.

The End

For the person who requested this I HOPE it was good���😭 as of right now my requests are still open. I’m currently working on Matt imagine, and then I have to work on a friendship imagine again🤭🤭

-J💅🏽

[danielgold-16]

The Urn

On a scorching greek day, Daniel was hiking in his gold jersey and shorts. Leather boots on his feet, he was exploring the hills around Mycenae.

He heard from the locals that the view from the top of a particular hill was stunning, so he had set up early that day to explore the area.

After leaving the car, he had started the hike, and after three hours, covered in sweat, he had made it to the top of the hill.

The views were indeed stunning, but very soon, something in the distance attracted his attention. There was definitely something over there, glistening.

He started walking towards the object and found a gold coin lying on the ground. It seemed strangely familiar, so he bent down and tried to pick it up, but his hand passed right through it.

He would have tried again, but suddenly, the ground caved in under his feet.

He fell into the darkness and hit the ground some ten meters below.

Pain brought him back.

“Fuck, I’ve broken my arm”.

As his eyes adjusted to the relative darkness, he could see that he was in some sort of a tomb.

The paintings on the wall depicted some men dressed in gold and some dressed in a shiny black material.

He stood slowly, his arm sending electric shocks throughout his body and started looking around.

“There must be an entrance somewhere”

He took a sock off and wrapped it around a piece of wood. He then grabbed his lighter and set the sock on fire.

“It’s not going to burn for long, better hurry up…”

He was in a round chamber, without any opening except the one he had come through. In the middle of the room, an urn stood on top of a round column.

He approached the column and saw that there was only one word written on the urn.

“Andronos”.

The light went off. Surprised, Daniel moved, and his broken arm hit the urn.

“Fuuuuuuuck”.

He fell to the ground and heard the urn shattering on the ground next to him.

He tried to remove his other sock, but as he was feeling around, he started to feel something creeping on his arm. Something almost liquid. Something cold. Something warm. Something alive that was quickly expanding until his entire torso was feeling colder, then warmer.

In the dark, deafening silence of the tomb, he heard a vibrant voice. A voice coming from within his head.

“Finally free…”.

Daniel passed out.

Ready to serve, to become part of something greater? Join the Golden Army. Whether you take the path of a player bro or embrace the hive as a drone, there's a place for you here. Reach out to @polo-drone-009, @brodygold or @hades-golden19 to start your transformation. Find your purpose, commit to the gold, and let the team shape you. 💛

[lostgirlmuseum]

Pairing: Bucky x reader (No gender mentioned, but reader does wear a dress)

Words: 1.6k

Summary: You and Bucky are forced to work on Halloween and even when cosplaying as lovers you only seem to bicker.

Warnings: it gets just a lil goofy. If you’re not down to clown kindly exit my circus. Reader is a bit of a hellion. No use of y/n. Not that much plot rip. Lemme know if I missed something.

A/N: Started this last year but didn’t finish it in time. Originally this was like 70% different but then I had to scrap a bunch of stuff and now it’s this I guess.

Dividers by: ME :) pls enjoy

“Who am I supposed to be?” Bucky asked. 

“You’re kidding, right?”

He lamely gestured to the outfit. “A pirate?” 

“You’re Westley!” 

“What’s a Wesley?”

“No, West-ley!” You handed him the final piece of the costume. “From The Princess Bride!”

Bucky eyed the black mask skeptically and quickly tied it around his head.

“And you’re the Princess Bride?”

“In fact I am. I’m Buttercup!” You watched the scarlet dress twirl behind you in the full length mirror.

“Her name is Buttercup?” 

“I’m not appreciating the judgement in your tone. It was either this, or eggs and bacon. Would you like to be bacon?”

“This is fine.” 

“That’s what I thought.” You studied your costumes and scoffed. “I mean you’re practically wearing what you wear anyways. All black. Except instead of a gun you have a sword and you get a cute little bandana to wear on your head.”

You made the perfect couple. Bucky looked dashing as always in his pirate getup, and your smile rivaled the shine of your gold tiara. 

Neither of you thought you’d be spending the holiday with each other, but duty called. Your mission? To infiltrate a rich kid’s Halloween party and snap some photos of his gazillionaire father’s files. Why? Boring shit, bad guy did bad thing, yadda, yadda.  

You pulled up to the English country manor in one of Tony’s convertibles and gaped at the view. The large house sat upon a hill and was framed by flourishing gardens, illuminated only by the inside lights. You could hardly imagine how green and lush they looked in the daytime. 

“Are we clear on the plan?” Bucky asked as he opened your car door for you.

“Yes. Enter the party dressed in costumes,” You took the gloved hand he offered and stepped out.

“Locate the main office. I’ll be watching your back.” Bucky continued, the two of you starting your journey to the entrance.

“I pick the lock,” you nodded as you looped your arm with his.

“You’ll grab pictures of the files,”

“And then we’ll go back to the ground floor and party.”

Bucky stopped so suddenly that you went lurching backwards.

“That is not the plan.” 

“I’m officially adding it to the plan.” You said, removing your arm from his and continuing to walk.

“You can’t do that,” he grumbled, hand shooting out to grab yours before you could get too far.

“C’mon Buck!” You turned around to face him. “When was the last time you went to a Halloween party?”

“I don’t know.”

You stepped closer to him and placed your hands on his shoulders.

“We deserve to have a little fun if we are forced to work on Halloween. Besides, I thought we were spies. You really think our chances of getting caught drastically increase if we hang around for a bit? You think we are that bad at our jobs?”

“But—”

“Fine,” you smirked, “we party first. Blend in. Then we get to business.”

His black mask only amplified his unamused glare.

“Ugh. Okay, we’ll play it by ear. Agreed?”

“Fine.” 

Unfortunately for you, there was very little partying to be done. Bucky gave you five minutes amongst the flood of witches, ghosts, cowboys, and angels before dragging you off to the west wing of the estate. 

You followed the large hall to a set of stairs, and ascended to the second floor. 

“I think this place used to be a castle,” you whispered, eyeing the strange suits of armour lining the hall.

“Focus.” Bucky said, five paces in front of you.

You skipped ahead and spun to face him, “I’m the most focused person in the world right now.”

You continued to skip backwards all the way down the hall until you reached the study doors. 

“All right,” you smiled after picking the lock with a single bobby pin, “be a good watch dog for me.”

Bucky grumbled, but you shut the doors behind you too quick for him to lodge an official complaint.

The study was as elegant as to be expected with a house such as this. The glass balcony doors in the back of the room stretched all the way up to the coffered ceiling, and towering bookshelves stacked with ancient spines lined the walls, but what caught your attention was the mahogany desk in the middle of it all. 

You made your way behind the desk and promptly began opening the drawers. 

It didn’t take long to find what you needed. 

Just as you snapped photos of the the final file, Bucky came bursting in and locking the door behind him. 

In the time it took him to warn “He’s coming, we have to go,” he had made it across the room to the balcony doors, wrenching them open, and dragging you with him. 

The exact same moment you shut the door came the creaking of the study entrance. Bucky yanked you away from the window and into his chest as he pressed his back against the stone wall.

“That was close,” / “Stop manhandling me—” you said at the same time.

“Manhandling?” Bucky whispered harshly into your ear, releasing your waist. “If that means saving your ass, then—”

“I can cover my own ass.”

“Is it really so hard for you to say thank you?”

“I can cover my own ass, thank you.”

“Do you want us to get caught?”

“That’s a stupid question.”

“I don’t think it is when you keep acting like this.”

“I’m not acting like anything.”

“Oh my g—”

“Keep your voice down or he’s going to hear us, stupid,” you shoved your palm against his mouth.

He squeezed your wrist and yanked it away from his mouth.

“Don’t you fucking ever do that again.” He snarled.

He caught your smirk and the twitch of your hand and pushed you away before you could shush him again.

“What did I just say? Why can’t you just listen to me?”

“I listen to you.”

“If you listened to me you would leave me alone.”

“Is that right?” You asked, a glimmer in your eye.

“Yes.”

“As you wish,” you said, and backed up against the balcony railing.

“What—” he began, but you were already hurling yourself over the ledge.

Bucky ran to grab you but could only look on in horror as you catapulted a full story to the lawn below. Instead of stopping where you fell, the steep hill sent you tumbling further away.

Bucky cursed as he launched himself after you, hitting the ground with a harsh thud, and rolling after you in stupor.

A chorus of grunts and oomphs echoed into the still night as the two of you tumbled down the ridiculously long hill. 

Rolling,

Rolling,

Rolling,

Bucky finally reached you at the bottom after what felt like minutes of nauseating turning. It took him only a moment to hoist himself up and run over to you, motionless on your stomach.

“Are you okay? Please, please,” he kneeled by your side and anxiously rolled you onto your back. “Look at me,”

“I’ve got grass in my mouth.” You mumbled, peaking an eye open at the dishelved man above you. His bandana was missing and his v-neck was ripped a little wider from the fall. Not to mention the literal dirt on his cheeks.

Bucky flashed a quick look of relief before turning red. He stood up and ripped the mask from his face. He furiously threw it to the ground and began to storm off.

“Where are you going?” You called, struggling to get up.

He halted. You watched in curiosity and unease as he balled his fists. He relaxed them, and tightened them again as he whirled around to face you.

“What were you thinking?”

“I was just doing as you asked,” you shrugged nonchalantly, steadily sitting up.

“I didn’t mean to throw yourself from the balcony! You could’ve really hurt yourself,”

“You didn’t have to come after me. You could’ve really hurt yourself, too.”

“Yes, but my body is made to withstand that kind of fall, yours isn’t.”

“I’m not w–”

“I know you’re not weak! Do you really think I’m calling you weak, or are you just arguing to argue?” 

You looked down at your muddied shoes and mumbled something.

“What?”

“I said,” you began, but the rest of your words were incomprehensible. 

“I can’t hear you,” 

“I said!” You swung your gaze up from the ground, “I don’t know how to talk to you! Okay?” 

“What are you even talking about?”

“You only seem interested in talking to me when we are arguing. Otherwise you act like you hardly know me.”

“That’s not true.”

“Isn’t it? When was the last time you started a conversation with me that wasn’t work related or related to something I had done to piss you off?”

“...”

“Exactly.”

“What,” he scoffed, “so you decide to throw yourself off a balcony?”

“If that’s what it takes for you to act like you care about me,” you said. 

“That’s ridiculous.”

“I never said it was reasonable.”

“So if I tell you I care about you, you'll stop fighting me on everything?”

“Bucky, stop,” you groaned.

“No, I’m serious. Is that what it takes?”

“It doesn’t work like that. You can’t just say you care about me because I want you to. Then you’re just saying it to placate me.”

He sighed. 

He turned around and scanned the grass. A moment later he was picking up his mask and brushing off the dirt before retying it around his head.

“What are you doing?”

“Come on,” was all he said.

You followed him back up the hill as he led you to the back entrance of the party.

“Where are we going? I thought we are leaving.”

“You said you wanted to enjoy the party, didn’t you?”

“But—”

“You have thirty minutes. Okay?”

“Why are you doing this?”

“Why do you think?”

You softly smiled. “Thank you, Bucky.”

Before he could respond, you had placed a quick kiss to his cheek and ran off into the crowd.

“As you wish.” He mumbled, fingers grazing lightly over the spot you had kissed.

A/N: If you made it to the end thank you so much. Please let me know if you liked it. I have anon on for my inbox if you're shy or if you ever have an ask :)

[molly-ghuleh]

Camellia: Copia x f!reader - Chapter 1

Camellia: n. - A flower which symbolizes a deep desire or longing.

Summary: You are a translator for the Ministry. You receive a letter summoning you to the Abbey for a project involving an ancient diary with a mysterious author, but you find yourself wishing you were back home. That is, until you meet the charming Papa Emeritus the Fourth.

Word count: 4.4k

A/N: Hi all!! This is the first long-form fic I've ever written and decided to publish, so I hope you all enjoy!! The first chapter is mostly setup and scene building, so not a lot of interaction with our beloved Copia. But there will be more, I promise!!

Warnings: none for now but there will be some in later chapters.

AO3 Link

Prologue

“Will you help me move this box?” the Brother of Sin says. 

Wordlessly, the Sister of Sin stops what she’s doing and maneuvers through the crowded, dusty basement room to help the Brother. The two crouch down, bracing their hands against the box of books. It leaves behind a path carved into the layers of dust as it slides across the wooden floor. 

Once the box is pushed a few feet out of the way, the Sister lets go and, losing her balance, falls to her hands and knees from the crouching position. She cries out in surprise when her hand sinks through the floorboards as one of the slats gives way. The hole is only a few inches deep and filled with dirt and cobwebs, but the Sister’s hand falls onto something softer than wood. 

She lifts her hand to find that there’s a small leather-bound volume hidden face-down in the small crevice. The Sister can hardly imagine how long it has been there, with how thick the grime lies on the back cover. 

This room of the Abbey’s basement had been long forgotten, until Sister Imperator tasked these Siblings of Sin to clear out the room to make way for new storage. They had half expected to find a ruby-encrusted sarcophagus in the room, with how ancient and opulent the Abbey is. So far the only things of interest they have found are books—it seems that the only items stored in the room are books. 

The Sister gently removes the book from the hole in the floor and replaces the wooden slat. Even through her gloves she can tell that it is close to disintegrating. The distinct orange of rotten leather lines the edges of its binding and a few corners of pages fall to the ground. 

“What’s that?” The Brother asks. 

The Sister carefully turns the volume over so that she can read the front cover. It, too, is covered in dust, so she gently brushes it with her hand in order to read the embossed leather cover. Having been face-down in the crevice, the gold leaf illuminating the embossment is preserved and it shines in the low light of the basement. 

“It says…” the Sister squints to read the small letters, “...Elizabeth.” 

“Elizabeth? Who’s Elizabeth?” 

The Sister turns over the book once more. “I don’t know, just… Elizabeth.”

Chapter 1

The ride from the airport to the Abbey is a long one. The car you had been picked up in took you through the city and the suburbs, to the rural outskirts of civilization where the coniferous trees block much of the sunlight. The winding roads, dotted in late-afternoon sunbeams, feel endless as the car climbs into the hills. It’s been a silent ride, and rather awkward (at least, you feel that it’s been awkward) because the helmeted ghoul who drives the sleek black sedan has not said a word. 

You knew that the Abbey has ghouls. A few abbeys do, as they are big enough to warrant summoning help, but your home chapter is not. This is the first time you’ve met one. 

You wonder if they’re all so stoic, or if the driver simply doesn’t have anything to say. He isn’t impolite, but you wish he would say something, anything to make the drive a little more bearable. You want to ask him about the Abbey–what the Siblings are like, what Papa is like. How many Siblings live there full time? How big is the library? You’ve heard that the ghost of a former Papa haunts the corridors, is that true? Hundreds of questions brew in your mind, but the ghoul remains silent and you’re left feeling like an unwelcome guest in a strange country.

You already miss home. 

The Marseille abbey, your home for the better part of your adult life, is a medieval stone structure built on a hilltop south of the Marseille city proper. The ornate, stained-glass windows of its chapel face west over the Mediterranean so that the sunset streams into the room during Black Mass. The walls are old and drafty, and keep faded tapestries in a constant state of fluttering. The linens line the walls of the refectory in between tall, narrow windows which also overlook the sea. If it were not for the inverted crosses and scenes of the unjust fall of Lucifer, one might think the atmosphere in the chapel—and the rest of the small abbey—is almost holy.

The windows in the Sibling dormitories are small and south-facing, with deep stone sills and wood frames that have somehow managed to survive the ages (although they hardly open without a fight.) Your own dormitory windowsill is lined with personal prayer books. Each has about a hundred loose papers sticking out. They are your translation practice, your way of staying versed in every language you know, because you know the prayers by heart at this point. The papers are experiments: which language makes the prayer sound better, sound prettier? Which language makes the most sense? Which language makes the prayers the shortest, the longest? 

No matter which language you use, to you the prayers sound the most beautiful in your mother tongue. That is how you’d memorized them, after all. Yet… you wish there had been room in your single suitcase to take your prayer books with you. 

“We’re almost there,” the ghoul says, snapping you out of your homesick reverie. His voice is deep and softer than you’d expected. There’s no spurt of hellfire from his mouth as you’d half-thought there would be, and no low rumble in his words that might signify he’s more beast than man. The ghoul, despite his bug-eyed mask, seems shockingly human. 

He steers the car through tall wrought-iron gates which seem to open automatically. You can see the tall peak of the Abbey’s bell tower peeking through the trees, and suddenly the reality that you’re very, very far from home hits you. 

You unfold the crinkled envelope in your hands and reread the letter for the hundredth time that day. 

Dear Sister, 

I hope this letter finds you well. 

We at the Abbey have recently uncovered a very important document which we require your expertise to translate. However, this document is extremely fragile and cannot be transported in the post. Papa Emeritus IV and the rest of the Clergy request your presence at the Abbey as soon as possible. 

We expect this project to take several months. Enclosed is a one-way ticket for you to travel to the airport closest to us, from which a car will transport you to the Abbey. We will discuss plans for your return to Marseille when you are nearing the end of your work here.

We anxiously await your arrival. 

Sincerely, 

Sister Imperator

The letter itself is quite presumptuous. Sister Imperator had assumed you were not busy, and assumed that you would be able to drop everything and travel halfway across the world for a months-long project. And then to use Papa’s name to exaggerate the importance of this mysterious document which she hadn’t even disclosed the nature of? 

Well… you can’t exactly say no to the woman who practically runs the Ministry’s affairs. 

The car takes a bend in the Abbey’s endless driveway and emerges into a clearing. Sitting far back on a sprawling lawn is a massive, imposing stone structure. The rows of trimmed hedges and flower bushes do little to soften the gothic hardness of it. Two pointed bell towers loom over the steep roof of what must be the chapel, with stained glass windows stretching up at least two storeys. The central image is of Baphomet, in his iconographic pose. The setting sun glints off of his golden halo. Sweet Satan, you think, your eyes tracking the window as the car rounds the drive. Baphomet alone must be taller than the entire height of Marseille. 

The ghoul pulls the car to a stop in front of the wide steps leading up to wooden double doors. A woman stands there, her hands clasped in front of her and her back straight, like the matron of this grand palace. You suppose she is–the severity of her expression alone leads you to believe that it’s Sister Imperator who waits for you.

You step out into the chilly air and shut the car door behind yourself. The ghoul already has your suitcase in hand and gestures for you to walk up the stairs before him. You wish he’d let you carry your own suitcase, if only to give your hands something to do, but you are far too stunned to ask. Climbing the shallow stone steps feels like stepping into another world. A world in which you feel far too plain to exist. 

“Sister,” The woman greets with a smile. It doesn’t quite reach her eyes, which squint at you beneath slightly furrowed, well-groomed brows. She strikes you as someone who is all business, all the time. “How was your journey?” 

You return her smile as best you can. She speaks to you like you don’t understand English. “It went well, your dark eminence.” 

She seems a little surprised that you respond so fluently, but she quickly fixes her face into another warm grin. “I am glad to hear it,” she says. “Thank you for coming on such short notice. I’m sure you must understand that this document is very important, and quite fragile. We would not risk losing it in the post.” “Of course,” you nod. “If I may ask, Sister Imperator, what is this document? You did not disclose it in your letter.” You gesture to the envelope safely stored in your jacket pocket. 

Sister Imperator turns to step inside the slightly ajar wooden door and you assume she wants you to follow. The ghoul accompanies you over the threshold, but at the wave of a hand from Sister Imperator, he turns down a narrow corridor with your suitcase and disappears around a corner. 

You are still a bit too overwhelmed to thank him. Instead, you look at the woman beside you. “The ghoul will bring your luggage to a room we have prepared for your stay,” she explains at your silent question.

She continues down the main hall, deeper into the Abbey. Your footsteps echo through the atrium, bouncing up to the high, painted ceilings and off the stone walls. There are a few wooden benches pushed back against the wall, with pots of surprisingly lush houseplants on either side. Framed oil paintings line the walls: some depicting biblical scenes, some of landscapes, and a few large, dignified portraits. You can tell by the distinct Papal paints in each portrait that the subject is a Papa, and you wonder which one depicts Papa Emeritus IV. You’ve never seen an image of His Unholiness before. 

After a few moments of silence, Sister Imperator speaks again. “We found the document last month, in one of the storage rooms in the Abbey’s basement.” She likes to use the royal ‘we’ a lot, you think. 

She continues. “One of our archivists believes that it is at least five hundred years old. It is very fragile, you see, and so we ask that you handle it with the utmost care as you work with it. We would prefer it if you used gloves. And frankly, Sister, I believe that you would want to. The leather is fairly rotten.” You stay silent as you follow slightly behind her. You’ve worked with old, rotten books before. The pages nearly crumble apart in your hands and the leather splits easily, but it’s nothing you can’t handle. 

“We believe it is a journal—a diary, rather, of someone very important in the Ministry’s history.” You find it strange that she doesn’t immediately disclose whose diary it might be. “Who, if I may ask?” “Elizabeth.” Sister Imperator’s voice is clipped as she answers you. She gives no further explanation. Just Elizabeth. 

There are millions of women named Elizabeth in the world. It is very likely that there is more than one important Elizabeth in the Ministry’s history as well. It’s a fairly common name, especially five hundred years ago (if the archivist is correct). For all you know, this document could be some random Sister’s sexual logbook, and documenting her sinful indulgences was her way of praying to the Lord Below. 

You break out of your ponderance over possibilities when Sister Imperator turns a corner to walk down another, slightly narrower (but still wide) corridor. She speaks again. “The book is to be kept in a lockbox at all times when you are not working with it. Under no circumstances is it to be removed from the Abbey library without my express permission, or the permission of Papa. Is that understood?” 

“Yes, Sister,” you answer hastily. Her tone of voice as she lays down the law makes you feel as though you’ve already made a mistake. 

“Now. The reason we need you, Sister, is because none of our own archivists or translators can figure out what language the journal is written in.” 

This piques your interest, and also slightly flatters you. “What do you mean?” you ask.

She releases a long-suffering sigh. “The writing is jumbled. It is a mess of letters and sometimes numbers, with no spaces whatsoever.” 

The possibilities immediately start to stack in your mind. Latin from the Roman era tended not to use spaces, a practice called ‘scriptio continua’. Ancient Greek also did this… but wouldn’t the in-house translators be able to read it? 

“I cannot explain it well enough,” Sister Imperator says. “You will have to see, Sister.” 

The two of you come to another set of large double doors. Sister Imperator pushes one open and steps inside, holding it open for you. You slip past her into a huge, bright room, filled with hundreds and hundreds of bookshelves. Immediately you are hit with the scent of old books and parchment paper, and the gentle sounds of turning pages. To your left sits an ornate wooden desk with one Sibling standing behind it. They are sorting books onto a three-tiered cart, presumably to put them away in the correct order. You accidentally make eye contact, but they smile politely and you respond in kind with a little wave. 

You avert your gaze upward towards the open second floor, which wraps around the large atrium and is protected by a dark oak bannister. A few Siblings linger on the catwalk, carrying books or making their way towards the wide staircase that opens to your right. The bottom floor of the atrium houses several wooden tables where another smattering of Siblings sit. Most other tables are empty save for an abandoned book or two. 

The late evening glow shines down into the room from a large, circular skylight in the middle of the ceiling. There are desk lamps and overhead lights scattered about but none have been turned on yet. 

It reminds you of the University library.

“Come,” Sister Imperator says after allowing you to gaze around the massive library for a moment. “The lockbox is in the restricted section. You will receive your own key while you are here but you are required to return it, directly to myself or the Head Librarian, before you leave.”

She leads you up the carpeted staircase and deep into the bowels of the second floor. Towards the back corner, where the shelves are labeled ‘Fiction - Romance’, there is a wooden door tucked against the wall. A sign beneath its small glass window reads ‘RESTRICTED’. Sister Imperator fishes a rather noisy set of keys from her pocket and finds the correct one to unlock the door. She pushes it open with a squeak that feels loud in the quiet of the library. When both of you are in the room and the door is shut behind you, she removes an identical key from her keyring and hands it to you. “Your copy,” she says. “Do not lose it.” 

The room isn’t cramped, but it is small compared to the atrium. A few single-person desks sit along the back wall, while the walls on either side of you are lined with glass boxes. Each box is shaped similarly to a narrow cubby, and houses a single book. Printed labels on the front face of each box display a box number and the name of the volume stored inside. 

“Your key allows you to access any of these boxes,” Sister Imperator explains to you, “but I do not expect you to require any of them, except for the diary you’ll be working with. It is kept in box number seven, which is here,” she points to a box about halfway up the rightmost column of cubbies. Using her key (still attached to the incredibly jingly keyring), she gently unlocks the box and it glides out like a drawer. 

You step beside her to look down into the glass drawer. The diary is wrapped in white linen, but you can see the faint brown color of the leather through the cloth. “The archivist requests that you keep the white cloth under the book at all times,” Sister Imperator says. She reaches down into the box and gently retrieves the diary, careful not to jostle the cloth too much. “It will protect the leather from further decay.” You don’t need her to explain how preservation works, but you appreciate it anyway. It saves you from having to ask, or endure another awkward silence. 

She places the book down on a nearby table and slowly unwraps the cloth. Already you can see small flecks of brown and orange sticking to it where the leather has rotted, but it seems to be fairly well preserved in light of its age. On the front cover in small, embossed gold letters is the name Elizabeth. 

“Elizabeth,” you say, understanding. 

“Elizabeth,” Sister Imperator replies. “That is the only word we have managed to decipher. Hopefully you will be able to help us with the rest.”

You nod. “I believe I can.” 

She wraps the cloth loosely around the book once more, and returns it to its box. “I do not expect you to start tonight, Sister. We will give you time to settle, and have something to eat. But from tomorrow morning until you are done, this is your sole responsibility. Do you understand?” 

Her sudden, almost intimidating tone surprises you. You bite the inside of your cheek–a nasty habit you’ve had since you were a child. “I understand, your Dark Eminence,” you say with another nod. 

Her face softens, as does her stare. “Please, just Sister is fine,” she says. You follow her again as she begins to lead you out of the Restricted room. “I believe the dinner hour is to start soon. I will show you to your dormitory, and then leave you to get settled.” 

She brings you back through the library and the main hall towards where you’d seen the ghoul disappear with your luggage. The dormitory hall is a long, narrow corridor with windows on one side and doors on the other. Each door is marked with a number and a nameplate, and in between each door are wall sconces lit by incandescent bulbs. Halfway down the hall there is an opening to a stairwell which, you assume, leads up to the second floor of the dormitories. You walk past many, many doors, some of which have two nameplates, until you reach the very end of the hall where there are unmarked doors. Sister finds her keyring again and unlocks one, then removes the key and hands it to you. 

“These rooms here are the guest quarters. They are typically not suited for long-term stays but we have prepared yours to have everything you will need. If you need anything, ask Sibling Superior and they will make sure that you receive it.”

Sister Imperator turns to leave, but then turns around. “You know, Sister,” she says, with a curious look. “For someone of your expertise, I thought you would have been… older.” You can’t tell if it’s praise or suspicion in her voice. “Yes, well,” you stall. How are you supposed to explain that language just comes naturally to you and that it’s not your fault you’re not old and wrinkly? “I suppose once you learn one language, all the rest come easy. Especially romance languages.” 

“Hm,” Sister Imperator hums, sizing you up for a moment. “Find me at the end of the week and we will talk about your progress. I’m sure you will know your way around by then.” 

It seems her well of kindness has run dry.  

~~~

If the loud ringing of the bell didn’t tell you that the dinner hour had started, then the steadily rising sounds of a crowd did. You can hear the murmurs of conversation even through your closed door. A few Siblings emerge from the dormitory next to yours, their chatting and laughing growing quieter as they walk down the corridor towards the refectory. The old wood floorboards creak above you from the movement of Siblings who occupy the second floor. All around you there is an excited bustle, and yet you don’t feel like joining it. 

You have never liked crowds. Especially crowds of strangers. And these strangers all seem to know each other, if the echoes of loud conversations tell you anything. 

But your stomach does rumble, and you feel rather weak from a day of travel, so you decide that it’s best to eat something before you go to bed. Once the corridor seems clear again, you quietly slip out your door (patting your pocket to make sure you remembered your key) and make your way to the refectory. Sister Imperator hadn’t shown it to you but you can make an educated guess as to where it is. 

When you emerge into the main hall, you see a few Siblings occupying the wood benches that had been previously empty. They all hold trays or to-go boxes on their laps. Some speak animatedly, enthralling their friends with stories from their eventful day, while others sit quietly beside each other and eat. You think that it might be nice to sit somewhere to eat so that you feel a bit more connected to the Abbey, but all of the benches are occupied. The ever-growing roar from the refectory does not seem too appealing, either. 

The large room is across the main hall from the library. When you turn the corner you see that it’s not as grand as the atrium, and that it only occupies one level. There are sheer curtains hung over the windows, which allow the sunlight to illuminate the room but keeps it from growing too warm. Siblings, Clergy members, and ghouls alike sit at long wooden tables not unlike those of your home Abbey. But these tables alone are longer than the entire length of the Marseille refectory, and once again you’re reminded that you’re quite far from home. 

No, you can’t eat here. Not tonight. 

There is a long counter stretching nearly wall-to-wall to the left of the door, where a dwindling line of Siblings make their dinner selections. Whatever meal the kitchens had prepared smells delicious but you find that you don’t have the appetite for it. However, close to where you stand in the doorway and nestled in the space between the wall and the counter, are a few baskets of fruit arranged on a small table. The baskets are nearly empty, with the only indication of their contents being the small pops of color peeking through gaps in the woven pattern. 

Despite not wanting a hot meal, you are hungry, and so you enter the refectory and move towards the baskets. You opt for two good-sized oranges–although the bananas do look perfectly ripe–and turn to leave as quickly as you came. Your eyes briefly sweep over the crowd and land on a long table, perpendicular to all the others, situated on a platform at the opposite end of the refectory. The platform isn’t tall, but it is just enough to raise the table’s occupants slightly above the Siblings. The table is entirely composed of men, save for Sister Imperator, who seems to be talking to an older man with Papal paints and long blonde hair–is that Papa?

You look at the others occupying the table, and find that no less than three are also wearing Papal paints. 

Marseille is a tiny Abbey. At any given time, only about ten Siblings reside there at once. And so there is no need for an upper Clergyman to be stationed there. Instead, the Chapter is run by Bishop Beaumont, who (until now) is the highest ranking member of the Satanic Ministry you have ever met, let alone seen. 

So, to be faced with not one, but four Papas, all in the same room, makes your heart thump with nerves. You recognize them all from the portraits in the main hall, but in person they are all so much more… just more. And yet you still don’t know who is who. 

Of course, you know that all four of the most recent reigning Papas are brothers, the order of which was determined by age. The man who Sister Imperator is talking to must be Papa Emeritus I, or Papa Primo, as you’ve heard him called by Bishop Beaumont. The other three look relatively close in age, and so you truly have no idea which man currently holds the helm and steers the ship. 

You realize you’re staring when you make eye contact with one of the Papas. You nearly gasp in surprise, as if you shouldn’t even be on the same plane of existence as him… and yet your eyes met. Of course one of them would have caught you eventually, you think. You were practically ogling them from across the room. 

Hastily, you turn and make your way back out of the refectory and into the main hall. Your eyes fall on the nearest portrait. The Papal paints of the subject match the ones of the man you’d just been caught staring at. You blush as if his portrait could think, and had just caught you a second time. Your eyes flick down to the gold plate affixed to the frame, and read the words. 

PAPA EMERITUS IV.

[sterekbros]

Begin Again (1173 words) by Winchesterek Chapters: 1/? (WIP) Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski Characters: Derek Hale, Stiles Stilinski, Erica Reyes Additional Tags: Paramedic Stiles Stilinski, Firefighter Derek Hale, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, True Alpha Derek Hale, Good Pack Alpha Derek Hale, Omegaverse Alpha Derek Hale, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Omegaverse Omega Stiles Stilinski, Packless Omega Stiles Stilinski, POV Derek Hale, POV Stiles Stilinski

Stiles’ heart was pounding in his ears as he reached in through the broken window, feeling for a pulse point. He couldn't believe what he’d just witnessed. Not only was it a hit-and-run, but they’d also shot the girl before they took off.

“Hey, hey. Stay with me. What’s your name?” he asked her as she drifted in and out of consciousness. She mumbled ‘Erica’ before she slipped away again and Stiles tried to yank the door open but it was jammed.

Then he saw it. The bullet wound was smoking. He grabbed her shirt and pulled it aside to look at her shoulder. There were black lines surrounding the wound.

“Shit.” He knew then that she was a werewolf and the people that attacked her were hunters. They likely only left her because they thought the bullet would do her in. If she were human, Stiles wouldn't dare move her because of any injuries she might have from the accident.

But she wasn't human. If he could get the bullet out and heal the wound, she would heal any other injuries on her own.

Stiles reached in to grab her under her arms and hauled her out of the broken window. He laid her out on the ground and ripped her shirt open around the collar, then slung his backpack off. “Alright, hang in there. We’re gonna get this out.”

He fished his pocket knife out of his bag, then took a deep breath before digging in for the bullet. Stiles removed it effectively and tossed it on the ground.

“Almost done. Just have to take care of this wolfsbane. You’re doing great,” he told her even if she didn't respond. It was a habit that Stiles had, always talking to his patients as if they were conscious enough to hear him even when they weren't.

Stiles pulled out a vial of wolfsbane from his bag and prayed that it was the right strain as he opened it, dumped some onto the wound, and packed it in. He capped it and threw it back into his bag, then grabbed his lighter and lit it. It sparked and smoked and Erica started convulsing.

His heart started evening out as the black lines disappeared and the wound healed, leaving Erica lying still on the ground. “Oh, thank god.”

Then she breathed deeply and blinked at him, her eyes glazed and confused.

“You’re okay,” Stiles breathed. “I called the ambulance when the accident happened. I know you’re a werewolf and I healed your wolfsbane poisoning. The ambo should be here any minute.”

She tried to talk and Stiles shook his head, stopping her from rising before she passed out again. He looked up to see lights flashing as an ambulance pulled up.

“What happened?” a woman asked as she exited the ambulance, while another went around to the back to get a transfer board and gurney from what Stiles could see.

“It was a hit and run. Her vitals are good and I can't tell if there are any head injuries, but there are no visual fractures. She’s been in and out of consciousness.”

“You moved her?” the woman asked, giving him a judgemental look.

“I made sure to stabilize her neck as best as I could while she was moved,” he lied and there was no evidence that he’d done so.

“Alright, we got it from here.”

Stiles watched as the other medic came and they transferred her onto the board, strapped her to the gurney, and loaded her into the back of the ambulance.

Before Stiles could react, everything was silent. He looked at the wrecked car and sighed, running a hand over his face and packed up his backpack. So much for having a stress-free life in Beacon Hills. He really should have stayed at Berkeley.

***

It had been an hour since Erica had been admitted to Beacon Hills Memorial and Derek was beside himself with worry. He’d gotten there as soon as he could. Erica had been in and out of consciousness even though the doctors told him there was nothing wrong with her. He could smell the wolfsbane on her skin, but the poison had left her system as far as Derek could tell.

He held her hand and sighed, raising it to scent her and press his cheek against it. “Come on, Erica. Wake up.” Please.

As if she heard his please, her voice broke into his thoughts with, “You know me. I survive on drama.”

Her voice was hoarse, but still light and teasing. Derek looked up, relief washing through him. “If you needed some attention, all you had to do was tell me. Really, enlisting the hospital wasn't necessary.”

Erica laughed and then raised her free hand to hold her head. “I feel like I have the worst hangover.” She sighed. “What happened to my car?”

”They took it to the impound lot to inventory it. I think the officer said it was totaled.” He squeezed her hand and assured her, “Well get you another one.”

”Fucking hunters. I swear. They came out of nowhere and rammed me, then shot me with fucking wolfsbane,” Erica grumbled.

“Hunters?” Derek’s brows rose in concern. “I scented the wolfsbane on you, but I didn't see any wounds… how did you remove it?”

Erica paused, looking thoughtful as she held Derek’s hand tighter. “There was a man… he helped me.” She frowned and rubbed at her eyes before she sighed. “I don't remember much… just spots.”

Spots? That made Derek frown more, his thumb idly stroking over the back of Erica’s hand as he tried to soothe her. “So he helped you?”

”Well I’m alive so that’s the only explanation that I have,” Erica replied and rested her head against a pillow.

Derek tried to pick up the scent of whoever it was that helped Erica, but he couldn't find much on her. There was something sweet lingering on her skin, but they’d removed her clothes when she was admitted to the hospital so he wouldn't find it there. “Well, whoever he is, I’ll have to owe him. Hale’s repay their debts.”

”I don't think he’ll feel like you owe him. I mean. Why would he save me if he was expecting something out of it and then not show up to the hospital?” Erica closed her eyes and squeezed Derek’s hand again. “Really, I’m okay. When can we leave?”

Derek glanced at the door, giving Erica another once over before he stood. “I’ll check with the doctors. I brought you a change of clothes since they said the others were ruined in the wreck.”

He released Erica’s hand and stood. “I’ll be back.”

He wiped his hands on his jeans and went to find a doctor. Derek wanted to get Erica out of there just as much as Erica wanted to leave. He hated hospitals.

And whoever saved Erica, Derek knew he owed them. He made a silent promise to find out who it was whenever things were quiet again.

[melanieph321]

Ruben Dias x Black Reader - The Bodyguard Part 7/8

Things are heating up😫

⚠️Warning ⚠️

Mentioning of violence

Summary - Reader is a popstars in trouble and Ruben is her new bodyguard, here to protect and help her find out who wants to hurt her. But what happens when the relationship between Reader and Ruben simply gets too personal?

Enjoy!

"So what are you gonna do?"

It was early, but not time to leave for the airport yet. You woke up to Ruben's warm chest against your cheek. He held you close, drawing lazy patterns on the hill of your shoulder.

"Face the music I guess."

"You're gonna confront your sister?"

"Yes and take responasbility for my life."

It felt like the most reasonable thing to do, however, the thought of facing your sister and Tyson again ached your stomach.

"Just know that whatever you choose to do, I'm here."

You tilted you head. Ruben was already looking at you, his eyes big and kind. You lay hand on his cheek, directing his face towards yours. You still had to get used to the feel of kissing another man. But compared to Tyson's, Ruben's kisses spread warmth throughout your chest.

Five hours later you left Brussels and returned home.

"You're early" Your sister said, as you and Ruben stepped through the door. Ironically she was seated on the couch, the same couch she and Tyson were getting freaky on whenever you weren't around.

"Where is Tyson?" You asked, as Ruben brought your bags upstairs.

"He's out. Left for a booking this morning."

"A modeling booking?"

"Exactly."

"Has he been getting alot of those whilst I was gone?"

"A few, why?" You sister mimicked the way you were looking at her with furrowed brows.

"Mom is not well." You muttered.

"Oh Y/N." Your sister stood, walking over to give you a hug. "I told you not to go over there. She never meant for us to see her like that."

Her hug was comforting, you gave in, forgetting the fact that you were supposed to be angry with her, then again, she had no clue that you knew about her and Tyson.

"She will always be our mother." She said, pulling you back to wipe your tears. And just like that you were eight years old again, needing your big sister to wipe your tears.

"I've had some trouble with my credit card." You said. "I should probably go to the bank for that, right?"

"Sure. We'll go tomorrow since I have some meetings tod..."

"There's a rehearsal today."

"For your tour?"

"Yes."

"Yeah, a dance rehearsal for all the back up dancers, why?"

"I should probably go to that shouldn't I. To share my opinions on things, right?"

"Um...sure, but like I said I have some meetings to attend today, so if you...."

"It's okay, I can go by myself."

"By yourself?" You sister frowned. You seldom did anything without checking with her first, perhaps that should stop now.

"Ruben will be with me of course."

"Ruben?" Your sister initially looked to want to protest, but change her mind as he came back down the stairs. "Of course." She nodded. "Ruben will go with you."

"I'll call you if I need anything."

"Yes, please do, call me."

You looked to Ruben. "I'll just hop in the shower then I'm ready to go."

He nodded. "I'll notify Taylor to bring the car around."

"Thanks." You smiled, as well as brush his arm with yours on your way up the stairs.

Rehearsal was great. You had never paid attention to the people working around you. It had always been your sister calling the shots,  giving everybody directions. But without her everyone was forced to listen to you and they really listened.

"So the laser will be pointing from that camera and that camera." Your stage director, Alejandro, said.

"That camera?" You turned in that direction, pretending to hold a microphone to your lips.

"Yes and then you'll turn to the other camera before the lasers shoot down from the sealing."

"Why the lasers?" You frowned.

"For the finally? Isn't that you wanted?"

"Um, I'm not sure."

"Your sister made it clear that its what you wanted." He shrugged. "We can remove them if you like?"

"Um...no it's okay. Keep them."

You left rehearsal not knowing how to feel. The start of your tour was so soon and you needed your sister by your side, but how could you ever trust her when she's been lying to your face for God knew how long.

"Shall we get somthing to eat?" Ruben held the door open for you to climb into the car.

"No, I'm not hungry."

Taylor your chauffeur greeted you with a smile through the rare view mirror. A smile which you returned. Ruben stepped in to sit next to him. His face expressed concern as he turned back to look at you.

"Y/N, you have to eat somthing."

"I will, I just need to go to the bank first."

"The bank?" He frowned.

"Yes the bank. Taylor will you take me there?"

You arrived within ten minutes.

"I won't be long." You said, hoping that Ruben would let you go alone.

He didn't.

He held the door open for you to step out and together you made your way into the bank.

After a short wait, a bank representative named Emily greeted you and led you and Ruben to a private office. "I understand your concern, Y/ N" she said, sympathetically. "Let me pull up your account information and see what might be causing this issue."

As you watched Emily's fingers dance across the keyboard, a knot formed in her stomach. The seconds felt like an eternity until Emily's eyes widened in disbelief.

"I... I think I've found the problem," Emily said, her voice filled with astonishment. "It appears that all your money was recently transferred to a foreign account."

Your heart sank, and you exchanged a worried glance with Ruben. "What? How is that possible? I certainly didn't authorize any transfers like that."

Emily nodded in understanding. "I believe you, Y/N. However a signature was authorized electronically. Do you have your phone with you today?"

"Well yes, but no."

"No?"

"No, my phone, old phone, was stolen a couple of weeks ago."

"Stolen?" Emily's lowered her gaze, her eyes looking at you over her glasses.

"Yes. Oh my god what am I gonna do? This can't be happening."

Ruben reached for your hand underneath the table.

"The best thing I can do is freeze you account and make sure no money gets in or out." Emily said. "But I'm afraid the police will have to help you retrieve the stolen money."

You rushed out of the bank, Ruben at your heels.

"Y/N, everything is gonna be alright, you'll get the money back."

How do you know that Ruben? Everything I've earned throughout my entire career, my savings, my savings that my parents put in there for me. Gone, it's all gone. So don't tell me that everything is going to be alright because it isn't."

He pulled you into his embrace right there in the middle of the street,  for everybody to see. If paparazzi showed up now your life would really be over.

"I have to tell my sister." You said, breaking up the hug. "She'd want to know about this."

Ruben nodded. "Of course,  do you need to come with you?"

You shook your head. "No, Taylor will take me back."

Ruben looked conflicted, not wanting to part from you, however you had sent him to replce your computer. With your phone gone and bank account hacked, everything old had to go and everything knew would have to be fire proof and Ruben assured you that he could fix that.

"You went to the bank without me?"

After telling your sister what the bank lady said, you were suprised that this was her first reaction.

"Yes, well it was urgent."

"Y/N,  I told you that I would have gone with you tomorrow. Why would you do this?"

"Are you serious right now? All of my money is gone and all you care about is the fact that I went to the bank without you?"

Your sister's expression mellowed. "You're right." She stepped forward, bringing you in for another hug. This hug wasn't like the one this morning. It was stiff and cold. "Everything is gonna be alright, you'll get your money back."

"That's what Ruben said." You muttered. Your sister grimaced at the mentioning of his name.

"What?"

"I don't trust him." She said.

You chuckled. "You, of all people don't trust Ruben? You're the one that hired him, rember?"

"I know I did, but..."

"But what?" You frowned, because your sister was really not the one to preach about trust.

"Tyson told me that Ruben keeps giving him these looks, looks as if all he wants to do is bash his face in."

"Right." You muttered. Hearing Tyson's name leave your sisters mouth simply made you nauseous.

"I've noticed it too. He cracks his knuckles every time he sees him, Y/N."

"It doesn't matter because Ruben is not the problem here." You said.

"No? Then who is?" Your sister looked terrified.

"Dickonataor 3000."

Her shoulders rose and fell with your answer. "Y/N, don't you think..."

"I know that nerd has got my phone. He's the one messing with my account. We need to find a way to track him somehow. Ruben will find a way."

Your sister stared at you blankly for a minute, like she couldn't recognize the person standing before her. "Maybe you should go to bed? Today must have really sucked for you."

You nodded. "Yes, yes it did."

You needed sleep. Sleep was your friend.

As the moon cast a soft glow upon your bedroom, you nestled comfortably beneath the covers. However you were abruptly awakened by a gentle touch.

"Ruben?" You groaned.

"No baby, it's me."

Your eyes flung open.

"Tyson?"

His lips were on yours. "I heard you had a bad day, let me make it better."

Confused and half-asleep, you pushed him away, struggling to fully grasp the situation.

"Y/N, relax." he whispered, lust lacing his voice.

Startled and groggy, your sleep-addled brain attempted to process his words. "Tyson stop, I'm not in the mood." You pleaded, never ever would you be in the mood for him. Yet, his eyes burned with an unsettling determination.

Pushing aside your obvious feelings of unease, he continued to make advances, his body betraying the desperation of his desires.

"Tyson, get off!"

He wrestled you against the matress, tracing unwanted kisses up your neck.

"Tyson,  I said stop!"

He chuckled.  "What, don't you want me to fuck you?"

No, now get the fuck off me!" You shouted. The last words to leave your mouth before Ruben barged into your bedroom, his face a mask of fury. His voice thundered through the room, "Get off her! Right now!"

Caught off guard and blinded by his own desires, Tyson froze momentarily. But it was the fierceness in Ruben's eyes that eventually jolted him back to reality. However it was too late Ruben was already pulling him off you, dropping Tyson on the floor.

"Ruben wait, stop!"

There was no stopping him. Ruben's eyes were dark, his expression emotionless whilst he pounded his fists against Tyson face, cracking his nose, breaking his jaw.

"Oh my god,  Tyson!" Your sister emerged in the doorway, dressed in her nightrobe. She saw the two men grappling on the floor beneath your bed and started screaming hysterically.

"Please stop it, you'll kill him! Y/N, do something!"

"Ruben please." You pleaded, however his hands just kept smashing into Tyson's bloody face. There was no stopping him. Never had you seen Ruben so angry, so out of control.

"Ruben, please stop it." You cried and that seemed to do it.

He looked to you and then to his bloody knuckles. A low grunt left Tyson limb body that lay beneath him.

"Y/N, I'm so..."

You shook you head. Not wanting Ruben to come any closer to you. He looked both terrified and hurt by this.

"That's it. I'm calling the fucking police!" You sister said, storming out of the room in a tearful rage.

[5bcarremoval]

Unwanted Car Wreckers in Newcastle

When it comes to selling a junk car, there are so many things that come to mind to ensure the best way to sell a car. Why should you go through any sort of hassles when the best platform is in front of you? Why should you get indulge in any sort of paperwork? Why should you compromise with peace of your mind? Why should you wait any longer? The answer to all your doubts is 5B Car Removals Newcastle.

For More Info Get in Touch: Phone: 0402 639 249 Email: 5bcarremovals@gmail.com Website: Auto Wreckers Newcastle

[alphabetbill]

Macabre [ HEMLOCK GROVE ] - Chapter 5

~ description ~

A werewolf whose only skill is running from his fears, a half-upir with no idea of the true darkness lying inside of him, and a girl found alive in the woods months after her mysterious death.

Some secrets in Hemlock Grove should have just stayed buried. In a town that isn't so sleepy after all, monsters of all kinds are wide awake under the surface, crawling their way up.

~ warnings~

This story will contain mature and heavy themes that may involve potentially explicit content, gore and murder, talk of kidnapping and stalking victims, animal death, supernatural/paranormal/religious themes and trauma, any other themes not covered in the general description will probably be tagged here at the start of the chapters that other significant warnings apply to.

A list will be linked here upon completion and upload of each chapter:

Cicada and the Snake

Chapter 1 . Chapter 2 . Chapter 3 . Chapter 4 . Chapter 5 . Chapter 6 . Chapter 7

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

c h a p t e r    f i v e .

Roman Godfrey

<<>>

ROMAN FINALLY UNDERSTOOD THAT JUDE WAS DEAD. It came like a pin drop, like a sudden realisation of something his brain had refused to let him acknowledge before now. It felt much like a sudden jolt, like the ceiling had fallen, like a sudden blow to the gut that ripped the air from his lungs like a parent snatching a toy from a misbehaving child. 

Staring down a tunnel of trees, he felt something shift in his chest, something that squirmed around, rotten and sickly. All of a sudden he didn't want to do this, but Peter was already out of the car and Roman wasn't about to pussy out and leave him to walk this trail alone.

As he got out of the car, lingering at the start of a dingy forest trail, it hit him in the face as though a wall of air had slammed up, begging him to stop, begging him not to go any further into the trees.

He had not been expecting the sadness that came with standing here in this moment, not the terror or the disgust. Somewhere along this trail, his best friend's body had been left to rot. It left him disturbingly interested in a single question- was she still alive when she reached that ditch?

He thought about the dreams, the woods, the torch, the deer. He wondered if she had felt like he did, trapped in place, surrounded by an unseen enemy, unable to run until it was too late. He wondered if it was quick.

He swallowed thickly and followed Peter like a lost dog into the night.

It was just like the dreams.

Pitch black on all sides with the occasional glimmer of town lights over far-off back fences. The reserve trail began on one side of town, and cut all the way through to the other, separating the trailer park from the rest of civilization with a good few hundred metres between, establishing a clear divide between those who belonged and those who didn't. The Godfrey Estate was on a hill, a spectator, floating above it all, removed from everything and always watching. 

The rhythm of the crickets was jangly and distorted as though they were screaming over the top of each other, like a broken record or a scratched CD. The moon was a claw in the sky and not enough light could tear through the foggy pine needle canopy, so they ended up walking in near-complete darkness.

Roman tried to ignore the ball of ice in his gut, the way his skin prickled every time Peter’s flashlight swept through the underbrush.

"So what are we looking for exactly?" he asked, trying to squash out the tremor in his voice.

"Not sure," Peter said again, the same answer he had given the past four times Roman had asked the question but forgot he asked it. "A clue, feeling, sign, scent. Anything that just feels off".

"I don't know about you but this whole thing feels off man," Roman answered as he rummaged through his coat pocket, "might wanna be more specific."

His fingers shook and he almost dropped the cigarette as he lifted it to his lips, fumbling to get the lighter working.

They found the ditch after about twenty minutes. The police tape was gone, but flowers remained there against a nearby tree with a score mark on it. The cheap fake ones that looked nice but meant nothing, not the real ones. Jude didn't even like flowers. They died every time she tried to grow them, she always thought they brought her bad luck. 

The two boys stood up on the ridge and looked down. 

"Fuck!" Roman cursed, stumbling back, his heart in his mouth.

He was staring at Jude's body. 

She was lying on her side, her auburn hair muddy and knotted. Those wide eyes stared back at him but saw nothing anymore, blood spilling, maggots worming through grey flesh. A jagged sob tore from his throat when it flashed into view. 

It vanished when he blinked his eyes open again. Like a glitch, a snag in the folds of reality, she was gone. 

He did not want to blink again.

"You okay?" Peter asked.

"You...you mean to tell me you didn't just fucking see that?" Roman paced, dragging a hand over his face. He sucked on the cigarette, his heartbeat skittering. He wanted out he wanted out. Away from that fucking ditch, away from where he would have to see. 

He felt sick, and his hand fell to his stomach as though to soothe himself. 

"What? See what?" Peter placed his hands on his shoulders as if to shake him out of it. 

"She was here she was-" he gulped. The ditch was still empty when he looked back down. "She was just lying there. For a second I swear to god I saw her."

"I've seen her before too. The first day you dropped me home I saw her sitting in your car," Peter told him. 

They looked at each other in silence.

The shared dreams and the shared visions. 

"Shee-it."

"Shee-it."

Roman and Peter exchanged a tense look before Peter dropped his gaze, searching the ground as though the answers would materialize in the dirt beneath his boots. He moved a few steps away from the ditch and crouched, combing his flashlight over the area, inspecting every twig, every scuff in the mud. Roman kept his distance, standing with his back to the ditch just in case he saw it again.

"The grass is flat right there," Peter said, rising from a crouched position. He jumped down into the ditch, the ridge at about knee height, and stepped up onto the other side where the grass blades were crumpled, crushed in a distinct line that led further into the trees. He gestured for Roman to follow, and he clenched his jaw, hesitating before hopping down and following Peter’s lead.

They didn't go very far along the path of flattened foliage, just far enough that they could still see the path behind them if they turned their flashlights back in that direction. The further they moved, the more far apart the trees seemed to be, the more darkness that swelled between them.

Eventually Peter smacked his flashlight as its beam began spluttering in a weak glow, before it died. 

“It’s dead,” he muttered, shaking it. 

Roman flicked his own flashlight off and back on, but it only gave a dim flash before it went dark too. Both of them stood frozen, his breathing shallow. "Oh you've got to be fucking kidding me," he cursed, anger coinciding with his growing fear.

He strained his eyes, peering into the darkness, but there was nothing—no movement, no sound, just the dense weight of shadows pressing in around them. 

He saw them, outlined only by the moon straggling through the canopy.

A line of deer. They stood silently and still in a small bit of clearing, staring out from between the trees with blank, glassy eyes. Five of them, their bodies rigid, all too aware of the two boys sharing their presence. Beside one of them, standing by a doe's legs was a smaller shape—a small fawn.

Roman took a step back, his heel crunching against a twig, and the animals darted off once again and back into the trees as though that moment of limbo, that moment in which the deer had seemed so grotesquely aware, had never occurred.

They made their way back to the walking trail and the flashlights stuttered to life again, neither of them in possession of the words to explain it as they walked back the way they came. Something in the air was telling them to leave, and for the first time in his life Roman was happy to listen.

When the two of them got back to the car, Jude was standing beside it.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

mmm. not sure how i feel about this one.

[rocketboots564]

OC Info and Mood Board

Here’s a Mood Board and OC Info for a Teen Wolf OC of mine: Enrico Mahealani

Enrico Mahealani: Enrico is a curious, clever, and sophisticated kid, and is a close relative of Danny Mahealani. He moves in with Danny after he decides to move back to Beacon Hills (this is during/after the Teen Wolf Movie). With an obsession for criminology and incredible psychic powers to boot, he excels in criminal investigation and forensic analysis. Despite being an awkward teenager haunted by dead, he strives to use his gifts and skills to become a detective…. even if that means occasionally getting in the way of police work, and dragging Eli Hale into his investigations with or without his permission…. May god rest Sheriff Stilinski’s stressed out soul.

Appearance: Enrico has tanned, moderately brown skin with short, wavy yet slightly spiky black hair. Paired with his dark brown eyes and semi-formal style, he often exudes the look of a private academy student mixed with a scraggly noir detective, even sporting his own overcoat (but no fedora. He’s more of a fisherman’s cap guy anyway)

Gender: Male (he/him)

Age: 15-16

Height & Weight: 5’10ft / 177lb

Nationality: Hawaiian/Cuban-American

Species: Human Psychic

Powers: communication with the dead, astral projection, semi-clairvoyance, slight magic prowess

Personality: Enrico has a sophisticated yet casual way of presenting himself. Sure, he talks like a debate team mixed with a poetry teacher, but he’s not very outspoken and rather quiet at times. However, he is exceptionally blunt and straightforward, oftentimes getting straight to the point when talking.

Other Info: Enrico is the son of one of Danny’s Cousin. Technically first cousin once removed, which I simplify to just “relative”

He’s known about his abilities from a very young age, but doesn’t mention them due to being sent to several doctors and therapists, all trying to diagnose him. In his words, “Concern arises when you tell people you can see the dead”

Enrico was orphaned, moving in with Danny after loosing his father due to disease. He lost his mother years before in a car wreck.

He occasionally enjoys botany, and likes growing scorpion grasses, as well as tomato plants

Out of all the dead people who communicate with him in Beacon Hills, the ones he connects with the most is Erica, Boyd, and occasionally Derek, who he often sees in small flashes watching over Eli. He wishes to know why they’re so important, and why they continue to show up.

Music: a list of songs that give off Enrico’s vibe

Pursing My True Self - Persona 4

Space Cowboy - Jamiroquai

Heaven - Persona 4

Duvet - Bôa

Qué Será - Willie Colon

Memories of You - Persona 3

Face Claim

Model - Jose Oliva

Source - Ron Reyes on Twitter (fair warning, their photography is rather provocative, but good!)

@fionajames thank you so much for the kind words I’d be glad to tag you in any other posts I make about him.

Some of this stuff you’ve seen already, but I hope you enjoy what’s new

[redrose212]

Honest Answer Eddie Munson

Summary: Your best friend Steve Harrington has a party but his usual dealer is out of town, so he asks you to go to the only other dealer he trust who happens to be the person you despise. Eddie Munson. Warning: mention of drugs,swearing,mention of drink there are gonna be 2 parts. MDNI

"This school sucks" you rant to your best friend Steve, "yes it is shit, but we have my party tonight so we have something to be happy about and it's gonna be sick". he assures you while removing his books from his locker and placing them in his bag.

You and Harrington have been friends since middle school and have always been close, you too were practically brother and sister. He's always got your back though anything."yeah well i haven't even picked out a outfit i was gonna just go in jeans and red crop top but i feel its too basic, it's pretty much what i wear on a daily" you sigh walking down to the classroom taking a seat next to Steve. "Well please don't do what u did last time and turn up late after going though 20 different choices to only go decided on the first one" he said making you roll your eyes "look i'm just a girl" you place your hand over your heart you both laugh then turn to face the front. Half way though the class Eddie walks in taking the only seat left right next to you, you turn to look at Steve giving him the annoyed look he knew you hated Eddie.

You didn't always hate him,he used to be sweet,kind,understanding but he changed in the last year. You never understood why he just started been horrible,once you saw that side of him you hated him."why so late Edward Munson". The teacher spoke as she shifted her eyes away from the bored to face him, he shrugged at her question "well detention after school" she spoke turning her head back to teaching everyone in the room Eddie then flopped his head down on his desk. It's not like Eddie not to answer back normally he tries wigging his way out of it yet today he didn't "you okay dude" Steve leaned over your desk Eddie nodded his head in response Harrington sat back in his chair waiting for class to end

2 hours later

You were home trying to pick out a outfit for Steve's party you couldn't decide between the black strapless dress or the red skirt with the matching top,you was stood there trying to choose one for longer than 10 minutes till eventually you choose the black strapless dress,you matched everything up to it your hair was in curls and your makeup was a smokey eye look and you went with a leather jacket. Soon as all that was done you set off to Steve's .

Once you arrive at the party it was already full of people Cheerleaders,the Basket ball team pretty much everyone from Hawking high you weren't really expecting this many people but then again Steve was a popular guy i mean how else would he get the name the king of hawking high."hey your finally here"he rushes over to greeting you with a hug. "Yeah sorry". You shout over the music playing from each end of the room from the expensive speakers."i need a favour you know how you owe me for getting you that movie for free from the video store for your date?", he half yells at the top of the music "yeah i remember that date it went horrible he ended up having a girlfriend the dickhead" you stated, "yeah well we are running out of weed ,my dealer in out of town and the only other dealer is..." you cut him off immediately, "ABSOLUTELY NOT NO.." he stops you from reacting. "Please you know i wouldn't ask but Eddie is the only other person that sells weed cheap and he is down the road most people are drinking i have to stay here and robin is finally getting somewhere with Vicky " he pleaded. You sigh rolling your eyes back "Fucking hell fine where's the money " Steve then points to the draw and leaves you to go stop someone from breaking the vase,You then leave the party hoping in your car and beginning to drive over to the Munson's trailer in Forest Hills trailer park .

Ones you arrive you debate on just turning back and going home but you did owe your best friend a favour. So you went and knocked on the trailer and about 3 seconds later the door swings open, "oh it's you" the long haired brunette stood in front of you in no clothing but grey joggers, his body on show, exposing his tattoo's that you have never seen before, his hair soaked from the shower water. "I..I just came for Steve's weed for his party he should of told you it was me coming" you rubbed the back of you head trying to shake the view of Eddie's perfectly shaped body out your head "come in I'll grab the bag", you nod walking into the room. Your eyes circle the room it's different to what you imagined. "I want money first never know what girls like u are like" he commands, "girls like me?" baffled about what Eddie just said, "i mean girls like you would do anything for there boyfriends even steal" he replied you look at him annoyed with his response. "Whatever Eddie you really know how to be a dick" you pass him the money as he hands you the bag. "Just get out I've seen your face enough today ". So you do exactly that you step out the trailer but just before the door shuts "wait Eddie" you speak "what?" he reacted to you "why" you stutter "why do you hate me please give me a honest answer please cause i really don't know why" you add "I don.." you cut him off "don't say you don't cause it's clear you do i mean don't think i haven't heard what you say around school, so please don't lie you, just stopped talking to me you blocked my number you dogged me eds and i never knew why" you tear up as you are speaking your words the tears making you stutter, You don't know why it was happening or why it was all coming out but it did and you wanted to know the truth" he glared at you he could hear the pain in your voice he never meant to hurt you like that he never meant to hurt you at all. "i...

I'LL POST PART 2 IN A FEW DAYS

[shares-a-vest]

Eddie might just be the dumbest person Steve has ever met. He's seriously sitting beside him as they remain stationary in the Beemer outside Family Video, mid-argument with Dustin insisting Suzie (of all people) isn't real.

Jesus fucking Christ.

“I do so have a girlfriend!” Dustin argues, jumping forward from his seat and jostling Steve's headrest.

He attempts to swat him away, but the kid just scoots to the middle of the backseat. Despite the fidgeting, he's being surprisingly neutral about the accusation (meaning he isn’t screeching back insults). Anyway, Steve's pissed enough on his behalf. And also ever-so-slightly annoyed that he's in love with an idiot.

How has Dustin not forced Eddie to talk with her on the phone? Jeez, the number of times he's shoved the phone in Steve's face while he has been at the Hendersons while Claudia yells about call charges to Utah. And the sheer amount of time Dustin actually spends talking about Suzie surely makes it impossible for it to be an elaborate lie. The kid is smart. But not that smart.

“Eddie...” Steve finally musters, even though he stops there.

He pinches his nose, certain that mere exposure to this argument is going to permanently rot his brain. And everyone thinks he's a dumbass of the group.

He shakes his head and looks at the store. Squinting, he can see Keith arguing with Robin as they both flail about with VHSs in their hands. He wishes he was in there, refereeing their pretentious movie snobbery as they argue about boring black-and-white movies from a hundred years ago. That would be easy.

“Still don't think Suze is real, dude,” Eddie shrugs and cracks his knuckles, seemingly to punctuate his argument.

“So you think I'm as pathetic as Jan Brady?” Dustin seethes, his voice up-ticking at every word until he's doing that annoying shrill-talking that makes Steve's ears bleed. “Eventing George Fucking Glass out of thin air to save the embarrassment of being single?”

“Stop swearing, dude!” Steve chastises, holding out a frustrated hand in Dustin's direction in hopes of getting him to exercise some volume control. They are in the confines of a car for Christ's sake.

“That's it,” Dustin says, abruptly opening the car door as he gathers up his backpack. “We're going to Cerebro.”

He opens the passenger door and begins tugging on Eddie's sleeve, eliciting incoherent grumbles.

“Cerebro, what? No! Just call her!” Steve yells across his boyfriend, who just yanks his sleeve back from kid's grip.

“No!” Dustin insists, going for Eddie's wrist now.

“What the fuck is Cerebro?” Eddie scoffs, extending an arm to block their young friend from laying another hand on him. “What, are you secretly Professor X, or something?”

The shit-eating smirk Eddie makes is enough for Steve to remove his keys from the ignition and exit the car, resigning himself to walking all the way to fucking Cerebro because Eddie has gone from being a total dumbass to a full-blown jerk in one fell swoop. He waves his hand to beckon Eddie out of the car, fully intending on leaving it parked outside Family Video (which will probably draw questions from Robin, who’ll act like Steve’s missing). But putting his boyfriend in his place is the priority right now.

“Where are we going?” Eddie asks, confused but never the less stepping out of the Beemer and slamming the door.

“Highest point in Hawkins,” Steve grumbles. “Come on pea-brain.”

“You mean Weathertop? That’s halfway across town from here!” Eddie complains as they both begin to follow along as Dustin rushes off far ahead of them.

Before Steve knows it, they are on their way up the hill towards Cerebro, the highest and clearest point in Hawkins. They are all breathless, both unprepared for the walk and exhausted with sheer annoyance at each other after the near-wordless trek, speaking only to bicker about the quickest route to Weathertop.

“Steve?” Eddie says, sickly sweet as he turns around and extends theatrically limp arms with a pout. “Can you carry me?”

Dustin is far enough away to not hear them, already at the top of hill examining his communication device.

“Nope,” Steve replies, smacking his lips at the ‘P’ and placing his hands on his hips. 

The gesture seems to make Eddie chuckle, so he shoots him a glare that promptly shuts him up as he walks straight past him, intentionally bumping into him on the way.

“Stevie,” Eddie repeats, this time cooing, somehow sounding both flirtatious and apologetic.

“I’m annoyed with you,” he shoots back and slows his pace.

He stops, folds his arms and turns to Eddie who looks like a puppy that just got kicked. But it's still likely a part of Eddie's sucking-up-without-actually-apologising routine. Steve narrows his eyes and pouts. That does the trick. Eddie creeps forward, looks around presumably to make sure Dustin isn't watching and snakes an arm around his middle.

“I didn’t think it would go this far!” he laughs, brushing a hand through Steve's hair. “Sorry I ruined our date night, sugarplum.”

“You hurt his feelings,” he retorts, suppressing a satisfied hum at the feeling of Eddie's hand in his hair.

“Serves him right for being an annoying twerp,” Eddie offers, raising an eyebrow. “Besides, can he stop asking me if I have a girlfriend! Of course, I do!”

He thrusts his hips forward but Steve recoils (even if he feels his cheeks burn).

“Not funny, dude.”

Now it’s Eddie’s turn to dramatically pout. He’s even worse than Steve suspects he looks. He steps back and begins twisting his hair up in a makeshift ponytail with his hand, puffing out a breath. Steve wordlessly reaches into his back pocket and produces the communal scrunchie - a forest green one that satisfies Max, El, Robin and Eddie whenever necessary. Eddie takes it and chews at his bottom lip as he ties his hair up, avoiding eye contact.

He always looks so pretty with his hair up. Steve shakes his head and continues up the hill.

“Hey, Henderson,” Eddie calls, staggering up the last of the incline. He pats Dustin on the shoulder. “Dude, I’m sorry.”

Dustin looks between them for a moment. His eyes narrow before he snaps back to the task at hand.

“Nope. Steve told you to apologise, I can tell.”

“Jesus Christ!” Steve laments, slumping down onto the grass and hanging his head in his hands.

Forget a date night. This stupidity is just going to ping-pong back and forward until they wither away on Weathertop and Robin will have to send out a recovery operation. There’s a thud and he turns to find Dustin sitting in defeat on the ground, radio in his hand.

“It isn’t working,” he says, more confused than disappointed.

Steve looks up at Eddie and they have a silent back and forward before Eddie rolls his eyes and couches down.

“I’m sorry, Dustin,” he says earnestly.

Dustin shrugs.

“I just wanted you to talk to Suzie.”

“We can go to my house and you can call her,” Steve suggests, chastising himself for not offering a solution that didn’t involve walking halfway across town sooner.

“Don’t worry about it. You two can go on your date, or whatever,” Dustin says nonchalantly as he lowers his contraption to the ground.

Eddie makes some kind of incoherent gargle of words before standing up and turning away.

“What?” Steve shrieks, digging his fingers into the grass.

Their young friend sighs as he looks out over their surroundings. The sun is setting now.

“I know the two of you are dating," Dustin explains as if it's something they should know. “Have for months actually.”

He stands and begins separating pieces of Cerebro according to size like he hasn't just delivered an earth-shattering revelation.

“Shit,” is all Eddie says, continuing to be so very helpful. He twists at a loose strand of hair with one hand and reaches for a cigarette with the other.

“You two aren’t subtle at all. Pretty gross and obvious, really,” Dustin chuckles before his face drops. “I mean, it isn’t gross that you are two dudes just… Lovey-dovey gross stuff.”

Steve barks a laugh. He’s one to talk.

“You could have told me!” he continues, sounding a little hurt. “Oh and everybody else knows too.”

“What!” Steve yells and Dustin practically falls to the ground in a fit of laughs.

Eddie starts giggling and Steve looks up. They just shrug at each other, accepting their fate of being annoyed to death by the kids. When he recovers, Dustin sits upright, wiping tears from his eyes as he continues pulling the broken Cerebro apart.

“I must warn you,” he begins, shoving the smaller pieces into his backpack. “The guys have been taking bets about when you two got together and who will crack and blab about it first. Now, I didn’t participate, of course.”

He places a hand on his heart and gives them that condescending look he gets when he is, one hundred percent, in on the stupid shenanigans with the rest of the Loser Squad. He hums and looks around, gradually raising his eyebrows, his cap tipping upwards as he smirks.

“Y’know, this would be a romantic spot…” he starts.

Steve shakes his head, “Nope, no, no, no! Absolutely not.”

He waves his hands around to emphasise his point, but it is lost on Dustin, who only laughs. Great, the little shit wasn’t actually fessing up to show his support, it was merely a means to opening another dimension of teasing. And he wasn't about to enter into receiving relationship advice from the kid either.

He looks to Eddie for some kind of assistance, only to find his (now not-so-secret) boyfriend smiling and twirling a strand of hair across his face, barely shielding his too-cute dimples. Steve can’t help but feel giddy at the idea of coming back here for a quiet picnic.

Dustin groans and promptly shoves the broken-up aerial in Steve’s lap making him jump.

“So, you're okay with me dating Mom?” Eddie says, a wolfish smile creeping across his face.

Okay, the bitchiness and malfunctioning is over. Back to utter stupidity.

“Please! Do not say that!” Dustin shrieks, pinching his nose.

Eddie laughs maniacally in the direction of the sunny heavens for far too long. Steve playfully slaps him on the arm and points to his assigned pile of parts. He needs to help. Especially if he was still wanting to go on the date he had to make up for mildly ruining.

As they make their way back down the hill with Dustin’s invention split between Eddie and Steve, he starts on about what might be wrong with Cerebro. Steve isn’t a scientist by any stretch, but he’s sure it is broken from being left out here during an almost-apocalypse. Eddie juggles around the items in his hands enough to link arms with Steve, leaning in close.

“Wanna come back here for a moonlight picnic?” he offers in a flirtatious version of his Dungeons and Dorks voice that makes Steve shiver.

“M’kay,” he smiles back, cheeks flushing as he manoeuvres to hold his hand.

“Ew!” Dustin chimes, scrunching up his nose for just a moment before he smiles and runs for it down the embankment. “On second thought, I shouldn’t have said anything!”