#i hate hate HATE slow dancing in front of others

[baddiewiththebook]

Over the Years | e.m x reader [18+] | p. 13

-> The origin story of Eddie Munson, and how he fell in love with the worst person he possibly could - his best friend.

-> eddie munson x you (she/her)

-> friends to lovers, slow burn, angst

-> warnings - strong language, suggestive themes, smut [18+]

-> <-

February 1984

Eddie slams his fist into the vending machine. The bastard ate his last dollar, and is refusing to return the other quarter he slid into the machine. This is just his luck.

"I might have another dollar," Gareth offers up.

Eddie shakes his head. "Don't bother.”

Gareth is already fishing through his wallet. Shit, he might have quarters to give up to his friend. Money has been tight on Eddie - Gareth was over last weekend, and the fridge was empty. Not to mention that he also caught a glimpse into Eddie's lunchbox, and there was hardly any food inside. A bag of pretzels, and an old napkin.

While fishing in his wallet, Gareth drops something. It lands with a plop on the school linoleum. Racing to snatch the condom, before Eddie can get his hands on it - he fails. Eddie flicks it between his fingers thoughtfully.

“Uh,” Gareth holds out one more quarter, “trade?”

How could this be any more awkward? With an audience maybe? Eddie didn’t even know you two were at that point in your relationship. Well, he still doesn’t. Should he ask?

Eddie doesn’t say a word, and Gareth takes the condom back. To prevent that from happening again, Gareth makes sure it’s secure in a deeper part of his wallet.

Clunk - clunk - clunk.

The vending machine does take Gareth’s quarters. With an aching buzz and a whirl, Eddie now has lunch. A crappy bag of chips that would fill him for another hour at best. Maybe he should have payed closer attention to his choices.

Suddenly, the hallway from the vending machines to the cafeteria feels more like a million steps instead of just a couple around the corner. The boys scuffle along the tile making an awful racket. Eddie pops the chip bag open upside down, and offers the snack out to Gareth.

“I’m good,” he doesn’t want to take away food from Eddie right now.

Eddie shrugs his shoulders, and tries his best not to look terribly ravenous eating the chips in front of him. The cold truth is that he is surviving on junk until this Friday when Wayne gets paid. That, or he meets up with his boss. Eddie gets a sizable cut for the deals he makes selling weed to the kids that hate him the most. Rich kids. Church kids. All that matters is that these hypocrites have the cash, and Eddie hands out the supply. It’s simple. Very under the table.

The thing he can’t get off his mind is what Gareth is carrying around with him. A condom. It’s one condom.

Of course, Eddie knows what it is for. The better question is have you done it? Have you let Gareth do that to you? It’s against his better judgment that he asks the fatal question. He might as well load the bullet into the gun, then point it at his head, before letting Gareth pull the trigger.

“Are you guys- uh- have you guys-,”

Gareth stops abruptly in the hallway. This is not the conversation that he wishes to have right now. Not with Eddie in the least. Although, the halls are bare except for the few darting to the bathroom to smoke while the teachers aren’t looking. He’s done that enough times.

Truthfully, Gareth only stuck that thing in his wallet when the two of you began to date. Going to the store to buy them was enough of a challenge not to be seen by anyone from school or by anyone around town that his mom might know. The cashier gave him enough of a look over that made Gareth wonder if this was even a good idea in the first place.

It’s on his mind - you and him - like that. Sometimes Gareth wonders if he’s just a pervert because surely you can’t have the same mind that he does. Then again, you have needs too. Right?

Gareth is jittery already. It’s Valentine’s Day, and aside from buying you a bouquet of flowers, he’s also taking you to the school dance tonight. There’s a big announcement about it around a month ago.

You show little interest in the events around school, but every once in a while Gareth sees a twinge of excitement come from you. A flyer in the hallway caught your eye, and so he asked you. You were just as shocked as he was when the words flew out of his mouth. But, the smile grew on your face and he was smitten.

Gareth is thrilled to escort you to the dance. The nerves draw from getting dressed tonight. He’s got no idea what you’re wearing, but his tie will match your dress. For only this night, his mom is allowing him to borrow the car. She expects him to take you there and back in one piece. That is his plan too.

For the most part, his mom trusts him. The only child. The only one she’s got to keep an eye on. She’s proud of who he’s become as he’s growing up. Gareth regularly tries to stay out of trouble despite his outward appearance, and the ear shattering music that comes from the garage.

Gareth wants to continue his string of good luck with his mom by following her rules. The only problem is that now he has a condom in his wallet. A new player has entered the battlefield.

To tell Eddie the truth, Gareth has wanted to ask for his advice. How does he even approach the question? Is it a question? He doesn’t just want to start anything with you, and then you’re uncomfortable.

Eddie has experience. Gareth knows this. There’s been a time or two that Eddie has accepted a different form of payment to his after-school transactions. It’s not like he’s implied that any of his customers have to do that. But, as Eddie says, it’s the perks of being a good businessman. He takes it as a tip.

The only problem with asking Eddie for advice is how close you two are. If he found out that Gareth needed help in that department, then it would be easy to tell who he was talking about. And, if he isn’t talking about you, then who’s he talking about and how easy could Eddie hide Gareth’s body when he’s through with him.

Gareth scratches the back of his neck trying to find the words to reply to Eddie in a manner that’s not outwardly asking for sex advice. As he’s scanning his brain, Eddie is holding his breath for an answer. An honest answer.

“We’re not,” Gareth answers him finally, and thus letting Eddie breathe again. “I don’t know -,”

There’s a pregnant pause. Either boy doesn’t speak. The hallway stinks of cafeteria food bleeding down the rest of the school. It’ll smell like that all day. At least the biology classes haven’t started dissecting frogs yet.

“What do you mean you don’t know?” Eddie huffs. “Either you are or you aren’t.”

Why did Eddie want to know so badly? He wishes he could shove his foot into his own mouth. A part of him wants to hear Gareth say that they are doing that. No idea why. Gareth isn’t the worst person in the world for you to be doing that with. It’s just - maybe someday, Eddie had hoped that would be him.

Eddie really has to give up on the thought of you two ever becoming a thing. It’s not healthy. It’s selfish. You’re into Gareth. And, if he’s making you happy then Eddie should be too. Even though the sting still feels fresh against his alabaster skin.

“Gareth."

Gareth winces at how abrupt his friend calls him by name.

“Just,” Eddie pinches his brows together, “be kind to her. And do me a favor?”

“What’s that?”

“Please, spare me the details.”

-> <-

The sun has just set across Hawkins, but there is no moon to be seen. Clouds across the sky cast a blue-gray haze over the town. This doesn’t stop you from wearing your most favorite piece in your closet. Now you have an excuse to wear it, since your birthday didn’t work out. You zip up the back of the dress that Gareth bought for you.

Your hands dance along the side of the fabric that hugs at your waist. Lips press together to blend your lipstick in better, while you check all the details in your mascara.

The quiet air is suddenly broken by the shattering sound of glass in the kitchen. Even in a pair of heels, you’re quick to race out of your room.

Standing over twinkles of shards, your mother has drunkenly let a drinking glass slip from her grasp. Her hand trembles, but she doesn’t make much noise at the mess in front of her.

“Are you okay?” You stand in front of her on the other side of the mess.

Your mom has been home for a total of three days. That’s more time that you’ve ever seen her in the last few months. You’ve become quite used to coming home to a quiet house. The one day when she had shown up, you thought she was an intruder and you armed yourself with the baseball bat you have by your bedside.

Surprisingly, the moment she came home she was sober. No idea how she got home. That lasted all of an hour when she claimed she had a headache, then went out for booze. She came home again, and drank through nearly a bottle and a half of vodka. Enough to kill her. Maybe that was her plan. Leave you with the debt, and she’ll be buried six feet under.

None-the-less for some reason you still care. Three whole days of this, and you’ll still reach your arm out to catch her when she sways. She flinches away from you. Not a fan of touch anymore. At least, not your touch. She still has clients she reaches out too at ungodly hours of the night. She’s loud about the conversations, but if you ask her to lower her voice then she calls you unbearably nosey.

Why are you so glad to have her home? It’s so confusing all the time. The way you pick up after her. You’ve taken on her responsibilities. Shit, you’re looking for a job to begin to pay the bills that she can’t afford.

You’re sweeping the last of the glass, while your mother nurses a bottle of tequila in the dark corner of your kitchen. She hasn’t cut herself from the glass that she’s dropped.

“There’s macaroni in the fridge,” it’s like reasoning with a spirit in a human body. “Please eat.”

Your mother groans. All you do is pester her. Why did she have your ungrateful ass in the first place? A cat would have been less trouble than you.

There is a knock at the front door. You aren’t expecting anyone, but maybe your mom is. There are plenty of dirty men that want something from her.

“Gareth?” You pull open the door, and there is your date for the evening. Clean. Suit and tie. He smells expensive. All this for you. You shut the door behind you fearing your mom might gain a wind of energy. “What are you doing here? I thought we were meeting at the dance?”

Gareth is awestruck by you. For one, your radiance is unmatched and is indescribable in words. His jaw hits your porch.

“You look-,” he’s flattered you wore the dress, “God, you’re beautiful. How did I get so lucky?”

It is your turn to blush. To forget who’s behind you inside. Little do you know her ear is to the front door listening to the hooligans on her porch. They’re whispering about her!

“You’re not so bad yourself,” you acknowledge, but the scuffling behind the closed door brings you back to reality. “Er- the dance?”

“Right,” he swings his arm out to show off his mom’s station wagon, “my mom lent me her car tonight.”

“Oh, wow,” you’re both impressed, and terrified that your mother is planning her great escape.

That she is. One more word comes through her head that her kid is conspiring against her. She’s being sold out!

Swinging open the front door, she knocks into open archway. At least she doesn’t have a bottle of liquor anymore. Unless, that means your mom has finished that one too.

“Mom,” you plead, “it’s fine - go back inside.”

She assesses. Gareth is in a suit, but he’s too young to be a government spy. So, she accepts that he’s here for one thing. An exchange.

“Who are you?” The words come out in a slur that almost sounds animatronic. This is the most she’s spoken since coming home. It’s hoarse. That could be the alcohol. “Are you handsomely paid?”

Gareth’s face has fallen.

“Mommy,” you beg, “go back inside. He’s my boyfriend.”

“Boyfriend?” Her laugh is soaked in alcohol. “Please. You’re on your way to getting bred and dumped like me. Trust me - having a kid is the worst thing you could do.”

It’s clear to you now that she’s completely unaware who she is talking too, or has been talking too the whole time she’s been home. That’s why you’ve kept yourself locked in your room fearing she may forget you’re home, and mistake you for an intruder.

Still, the punch to the gut doesn’t hurt any less. Not only are you miserably unloved by the one person you know by blood, but your boyfriend stands mere steps away from you watching the whole exchange. You wouldn’t be surprised if Gareth turns to run.

This is the final act from your mother tonight. She swirls around on her heel, before retiring into the blackness of her bedroom. It’s safe when you hear her bedroom close.

“My purse,” you excuse yourself from Gareth a moment to tip-toe back into the trailer for your bag on the kitchen counter. Only five dollars is left in there. You should have known she would take it.

Gareth stays quiet - studying his shoes. You’ve never invited him over to your house before. Sure, he’s been around the neighborhood. Not when your mother is home. Things begin to make more sense about where she’s been on these “work trips” you’ve told him about.

“Let’s go,” you lock the door behind you.

The car ride is quiet, aside from the radio playing music that you’re unfamiliar with. His mom’s favorite stations, perhaps. You’re not sure if he’s waiting for you to cry or something. Confessing your mom is a drunk - or a pill popper - or a prostitute - yeah, that isn’t exactly on your agenda.

You don’t notice, but you’ve made it to the school. The building looks so different at night. It’s not as intimidating without all the expectations written on chalkboards, or the smell of the pages of used textbooks. Tonight the only area well-lit is the gymnasium. A girl’s laugh echos that brings you back to where you are. Earth.

Gareth’s eyes bore into you. All of these questions that he has, but he won’t ask. You won’t tell him until you’re ready anyway. The time comes sooner than later anyway.

“My mom is nice,” were you telling him that, or yourself? “She bakes. Well, she used too.”

Pause.

“My grandma was nice,” you pick your head up at this. “She baked too. She used too.”

Tears threaten to fall down your face, but Gareth catches each one before they ruin your makeup completely. You let Gareth just hold you right then. In the middle of the parking lot like no one else is around because no one matters more to him than you right then.

“She’s been home for three days,” you sniffle, “it doesn’t even feel like she’s really home.”

“Like she’s a ghost,” he traces shapes against your skin.

“Ugh, my makeup,” a silly little thing to worry about right now. But alas, you sit up to fix the mascara threatening to run down your face. “I’m sorry, Gareth.”

“Hey,” he takes your hand in his to draw your attention back to him. Easily, he slots his lips against yours. Once, twice, three times. Wet kisses. “You have nothing to apologize for. If you want to get out of here and just drive - say the word.”

The idea wasn’t bad. Getting out. Feeling the wind in your hair. Going somewhere far away. It wouldn’t work. You would have to come home in the end.

“No,” you breathe across his mouth. “Let’s dance.”

That is what you do. The whole evening. After clearing your eyes, and turning your brain off, you have a really fantastic time with Gareth. You even convince him to take photos with you in the Photo Booth.

A few dances in, and both you and Gareth find a rhythm to dance too. The rhythm might not have been the same one that everyone else was dancing too, but nonetheless you’re having a great time.

“I’m going to go to the bathroom,” your bladder is getting to the best of you. “Can you get me a glass of punch?”

“Sure,” Gareth could also use a break from the dance floor. He’s moving with two left feet!

The bathroom clears out as you come in. By the time you’ve finished in the stall, the only person left in the room with you is Chrissy Cunningham. The sweetheart you’ve grown to be fond of outside of her massive jerk of a boyfriend.

“I didn’t know you were coming tonight,” she’s powdering her face over the sink. A floral scent wafts around her. She must have just applied a generous amount of perfume. “But, you and Gareth look like you’re having fun.”

Oh, Gareth! Even just saying his name brings your heart to a flutter!

“Uhm,” you can’t help, but break into a grin the size of Texas, “yes! Chrissy, he’s the nicest guy. Not to mention how ridiculously handsome he is.”

“You know what, he does clean up nice,” she plucks at her bangs dangling in front of her face. “Those so-called Freaks are surprising in more ways than one.”

“What?”

“Well, Jason’s waiting for me,” she tells you, “we should totally go on a double date. That way we can catch up!”

Ah, Chrissy. She can never be anywhere alone for too long without Jason. But, maybe the offer isn’t far out there. It could be the start of a truce between the boys.

“I’ll talk to Gareth,” you can promise her that. “Have fun! You look so pretty by the way.”

“You too!”

When you’re done powdering your nose, you find Gareth nursing a cup of punch at an empty table. No one wants to be near the Freaks. Boy, you haven’t realized how tired you are of hearing how badly the boys get picked on around here. They play a fantasy game, and listen to different music so that makes them completely undesirable? That gives this miserable school a reason to outcast them all?

“Hey,” Gareth holds up an extra glass of punch for you, “having fun, tonight?”

“I really am,” you sip the drink.

Gareth taps the table with his pointer finger. There’s something on his mind that he isn’t telling you. You’ve been together for nearly half a year, and his tells are already becoming more obvious to you. He knows this as well as you do.

“I’m really sorry if what I’m about to say is overstepping,” that’s not the best way to begin, “I found a phone, while you were in the bathroom. I booked us a motel room - I booked you a room.”

You must have heard him wrong, “sorry?”

“I know how hard it is to have a family member act like that, but living with her can’t be easy,” he tries to put as delicately as possible. “After you’ve been having so much fun tonight, I thought maybe you could use a break. I can drop you off and pick you up if you want. Or, you can tell me this idea was dumb. Whatever-,”

Stopping Gareth in his everlasting ramble, you reach over and plant a kiss to his lips holding onto the lapel of his suit jacket. His lips soften against yours.

“I love you.”

The words slip off your tongue, as you hold him there. You’re the only two people in the crowded gymnasium. Blush pink lights bounce off of his and your hair.

It’s funny how a single moment can rewrite the history and the time of your relationship. All of those moments he spent arguing with Eddie about why you had to be there at their band practice. You were - you are a complete distraction. Bobbing your head up and down to the music, even though you just hear noise. The times you sit on your porch with your nose in a book. Those are the days he recalls begging with fate for you to even glance up with that cross-eyed stare that could melt him. Even your snarky comments couldn’t stop his heart from beating out of his chest for you.

Gareth couldn’t wait to take a bite of that forbidden fruit that was just out of reach. Out on a branch just a bit too high in the sky. But, here is his with you in his arms. Your words hold the key to validate the same feelings that he’s had for a long time. He’s sorry that he’s taken so long to recognize them.

“I love you too,” he hold either side of your face to kiss you.

This is different than the kisses before. Your heart locks to his. Moving as one, you lose yourself in the moment. Nothing else matters except the two of you. Here.

“Hey!” A chaperone hollers. “You can’t do that here!”

The couple does separate in a fit of laughter. Gareth is wearing your lipstick, as he waves off the teacher for interrupting. You pull his jaw back to face you, so that you can begin wiping at the lipstick across his bottom lip.

“Is it my color?” Gareth jokes.

You snort. “Totally.”

After a brief silence, you speak again;

“Do you want to get out of here?”

-> <-

It’s not the cleanest place ever. The motel that is. Understaffed. Underpaid. The clerk at the front appears exhausted, malnourished and far less concerned than one might be seeing two teenagers with a hotel reservation. That must happen a lot. It’s a small enough town that there are only a handful of motels, and none of them are as glamorous as the ones in the big city.

You toy with a fake potted plant that sheds dust when you tamper with its leaves. That’s one of many pieces that could use a fix. There’s a tear in the couch that’s supposed to warm people into staying here. You wonder what might have happened.

“One key is fine,” Gareth tells the front desk lady.

The woman waddles when she walks. Hiding out behind a desk and standing all day does things to you. When she returns, she has the single key to your very own room.

You’ve only spent time at a motel once or twice in your life. Both times were with your mother years ago. She went into the city for a couple of job interviews that fell through. Back then, it was just another job. She assured you there are always more opportunities waiting, and that was just not the right time.

“Check out is eleven tomorrow,” she drops the key into Gareth’s open palm, “we do charge if you’re late.”

“Thanks,” he replies, “have a good evening.”

Leading you through the front doors of the hotel into the evening air, Gareth gives you the key now. You hold the brassy thing in your palm. The engraving reads ‘201.’ So, you’ll be on the second floor and closer to the front desk office. That’s easy enough.

Gareth comes along with you to make sure the room is alright for you. He’s already ready to rain hellfire if anything isn’t up to your standard. But, it’s unlikely seeing that all you really want is a bit of peace and quiet from the world.

Twisting the key into the lock, you push the door forward. It opened. That’s a start. There’s a switch next to the door, so you’re not fumbling around like a moron in front of your date.

It’s simple. A queen-sized bed with a scratchy top sheet you could flick off if you want. There’s a table with a small chair close to the entrance that they consider a ‘dining nook.’ Also, a fat color television in front of the bed. Completely snug in the back is the bathroom. It’s clean, and free of mold, hair, or bugs.

Coming back around from your inspection, Gareth stands still outside of the hotel room.

“What are you still doing out there?” You hold out your hand. “Aren’t you coming in?”

Gareth wants too. He really does, but he still has his mom’s car. This is your retreat anyway. A night away with some peace and quiet. He doesn’t want to screw that up for you.

“My mom is waiting for me,” he tells you honestly. “I’ll come back in the morning and get you.”

“Gare,” the nickname soothes him. “It’s late. Call your mom and tell her that you’re staying at Eddie’s or something. I’m sure he’ll cover for you.”

Gareth snorts out a laugh. It’s silly how easy you can sway his better judgement. That by him not wanting to ruin your evening comes from more than just ‘he has to get home.’ So, he crosses that threshold into the motel room where you are.

Hot breath crosses your face, “are you sure you want me to stay?”

Your voice comes out at a whisper, “please. Please, stay.”

Gareth closes the room’s front door. The outside world is no longer either of your problems. You’re here with him. That’s all that matters.

You spring onto the bed next to him, after using one of the hotel’s wet wipes to rid yourself of your makeup as best you can. There’s a silly little hand lotion that will make up for any of your real lotions back at home. This could have been better thought out. Neither of you have a change of clothes.

“I’ll be home in the morning, mom,” Gareth speaks into the telephone sat on the bedside table. Taking your advice, he fibs that he’s exhausted from dancing all night and will just stay at Eddie’s trailer. “I love you too.”

“I wish my mom was as concerned about me,” you’re half joking when Gareth does hang up the phone, after his mom is done yapping his ear off about the evening. “Do you think she would even answer the phone if I called?”

Gareth unties his tie, and allows a bit of laughter to leak through. You’re taking this very well. So, it can’t be new - your mom’s behavior.

“Gare,” you lean into him, “could you tell me about her? Your grandma that is.”

Oh. Gareth doesn’t have a clear memory of her, before the day he really came to life with full thoughts and full feelings. This is his mother’s mother. She died a few years ago. One morning she got as intoxicated as she could, then left for the store for more beer in the middle of the night during the winter. She found a park bench to sleep on, and never woke up. The doctors said it was the weather that got her.

“I’d have to ask my mom,” he presses a kiss to your forehead as he sinks deeper into the mattress with you. “I think she really liked her. My mom turned out fine, you know. You will too.”

“Thank you,” you mutter into his chest.

For a moment, you lay there. Your breathing is slow. The rise and fall of your chest makes Gareth aware how exhausted you must be after these past few days. However, in the midst of Gareth trying to decipher how he could sleep sitting up straight, your eyes pull open.

“Gare,” you only sit up enough to brush your nose against his. His response is a hum, “kiss me.”

Gareth doesn’t need to be asked twice. Hot lips bathed in that sweetened fruit punch from earlier meet yours. You find your breath is just as shaky as his, and you brush your nose into his as you swing your leg across him settling yourself onto his lap.

Pushing away at the sleeves of Gareth’s jacket, he follows your lead. He would follow you anywhere. You put your hands at the buttons of his shirt, and Gareth’s heart begins to slam against his rib cage. He figures you want him to place his hands somewhere, but he’s a bundle of nerves just waiting to burst.

Placing your palm across his heart, Gareth covers your wrist with his hand and using his thumb he’s counting the number of beats in your heartbeat. It’s just like his.

“We don’t have to do anything you don’t want too,” there is a note of vulnerability in his tone.

You stop there a moment. Hand still across his chest. His heart beating ever so quickly. You love the soul that carries on next to this heart. The young man willing to give you the world if he could. You’re terrified of love. When love will run as far away from you as he can because you’re too much.

Gareth searches for something deep in your eyes. That you will finally allow yourself to be completely happy. You deserve this. To be truly happy.

There’s a spark in your eye. Your lids droop halfway across your iris.

“We don’t have to do anything you want too,” you say with your lips dangling in front of him.

Gareth meets your eye line, “I want too.”

“Me too.”

-> <-

[to be continued]

tags -> @leelei1980 @sheneedsrocknroll92 @jesuisbuginette @starrywhitenight @meetmeatyourworst @munsonburn3r @5tud10-54r4h @pvdulmol @loveryanax @am0iur @naatggeo @chaoticgood-munson

[dexastres]

sweet melody, part three

jude bellingham x black reader

summary : elena wants revenge on her ex-boyfriend, who cheated on her, and jude will help her.

wc : 423

note : filler chapter, i guess?

part one part two

“I’ve always hated you because I knew I could never be like you, even if I tried. That’s the sad reality of my pathetic life. And that’s why I’ll always be the second choice.” Sierra thought while playing with the bracelet Elena had made for her before shifting her gaze to Alejandro, only to notice that he had already disappeared with someone else. Sadness filled her brown eyes as she watched him wrap his arm around the girl’s shoulders. Sierra mumbled something to herself, then left the dance floor, feeling embarrassed.

She tried to keep her composure, a forced smile on her lips, and headed towards her friends’ table, hoping they hadn’t seen anything. However, the reality was far different from what she had hoped. A sharp pain pierced her heart when they passed in front of her with disappointment painted on their faces, and their silent judgments felt heavy on her shoulders.

“I’m sorry.” Sierra whispered. She felt so ashamed of herself that she couldn’t even look at her friends. She had thrown everything away for a guy who barely acknowledged her existence because jealousy blinded her.

“You’re apologising to the wrong person, not that it matters, anyways. Next time, think before you act.” One of her friends replied, in a sharp and direct tone, without glancing at Sierra. She left her old friend in the middle of this sea of people and walked off to meet Jude and Elena outside.

“You’re right.” Sierra said softly, her eyes fixed on her bracelet, which broke into pieces as it hit the ground, just like her friendship with Elena.

“Even if I apologise to her, it won’t change anything. Nothing can fix what I’ve done.” With a blank, emotionless stare, she sat at the table once occupied by her friends. Sierra had never felt so lonely as she did at this very instant.

“So, that’s the consequences of my actions…” she muttered while staring at the exit door as if something waited for her on the other side. It opened a few seconds later, revealing Jude and Elena.

Sierra’s heart skipped a beat when Elena’s eyes locked with hers. A smile spread across her best friend’s face, but it felt empty and cold.

“You’re dead to me, Sierra." She whispered.

Sierra watched Jude and Elena disappear into the crowd, a knot in her stomach as Elena’s words echoed in her mind. She fought to hold back her tears, but she felt as if her emotions were pulling her down, drowning her under their weight.

[ladykailolu]

I’m imaging scenarios of Godot slow-dancing with his boyfriends, one at a time, one-on-one. And each time, it’s just the two of them swaying back and forth, so close to each other, in the lonely darkness of an empty room. They dance to the song “Slow Dancing in the Dark” by Joji, hands holding onto each other, fingers intertwined, Gyro and Jake resting their heads on Godot’s shoulder, taking in his scent of subtle spicy, living in the moment.

[demarogue]

Gettin' Through the Holidays Mental Health Tricks

If y'all are anything like me, this time of year is triggering AF. Here are some small, very easy grounding exercises that I was taught by my therapist, basically in order of how much I like them for this rage-inducing season. You make like them in a different order, depending on your rage-to-despair ratio.

Push a wall: literally go up to a wall and try to push it over. Really try. I promise you won't push it over, but give it your best shot. Try to hold it as long as you can, and then take a breather and assess whether you need to repeat. Why it works: This is a quick, physical expulsion of the fight-or-flight feeling. It's a bit like punching a wall, but without the potential to hurt yourself/look scary/damage things. You can even do it in front of people and say you're stretching, they'll never know (unless the wall actually falls down, but this will not happen, I assure you).

Shake like a dog: Animals shake to release stress, and you are also an animal. Setting aside time to just shake it out, as vigorously as you can, arms and legs, face, stick your tongue out, pretend you're shaking like a wet dog. You can dance instead, if that feels better, and you can do this to music, but basically the more unhinged you can be, the better. If you are in a place you can scream, scream too! Why it works: like the above, this is a release of pent-up stress and anxiety. Especially if your rage-to-woe ratio is high, some kind of physical exertion is often the best way to burn through the cortisol and adrenaline you're building up.

Bilateral Tapping: Cross your arms over your chest so that your fingertips are at your shoulders, and slowly tap, one hand at a time, back and forth, for about a minute. Breathe slowly. Why it works: This is weird as hell, but because this engages both sides of your brain, it helps override the activity of the amygdala, which is the part of your brain that Makes The Fear. If you're being literally triggered in a situation, i.e. you're having a trauma response, or reliving some family trauma, this is a good one.

Box Breathing: From a comfortable position (can really be seated, laying down or standing), inhale slowly for a count of 4, hold for a count of 4, exhale for a count of 4, hold for a count of 4, then repeat. You can do it for shorter counts or longer counts, but if you vary the counts make sure the exhale is longer than the inhale. You can close your eyes or leave them open. Why it works: This exercise helps you move from a sympathetic (activated) nervous system response to a parasympathetic (balanced) response. I do this one every day, and it's a good gateway to meditation. Especially helpful in anxious or tense situations, but I find if I'm very triggered I need one of the other ones first, or it can make anxiety worse. Breathwork is amazing but not usually as a first exercise if you're very activated, or have been activated a long time.

Ice: Lots of ways to do this one – hands in cold water for 30 seconds, ice pack on the back of your neck, dip your entire face into a bowl of ice water (this one's the most effective). Why it works: I kinda think this is hilarious, but this activates your mammalian dive reflex. It immediately slows your heart-rate, so if you are feeling your blood pressure and heart rate rising, this one is very good. The only reason this one's at the bottom of my list is because I hate being cold.

I wish you all a very get-through-the-holidays-without-hurting-yourself. Take time alone if you need it.

[kurooh]

HAPPY LATE BIRTHDAY 🔥🥰

I truly love your work I was wondering if you can do more MHA men and how they would be like if fem reader was famous (model, actress , artist etc) have a great rest of your day❤️❤️❤️

BEGGIN’ ON HER KNEES TO BE POPULAR ! — BOKU NO HERO ACADEMIA

⊹₊˚. you’re his celebrity crush. (still, even after you started officially dating)

⟡ feat. aged up! midoriya izuku, todoroki shōto, kirishima eijirou, kaminari denki, takami keigo.

⟡ warnings: 18+ content (mdni), f! reader, some fluff, all characters & reader are 25+, quirkless/modern au, different au’s for each character, brainrot post.

⟡ xoxo, juno: omg nonnie this req is absolutely brilliant. thank you for the birthday wishes!! 💓

being a dancer/performer means your limbs are always a little achy or tight, and that’s where izuku comes in to help you stretch out. in other words, he fucks you in every position possible until you’re melting beneath him. he’ll attend all your performances and cheer, the loudest in the audience.. he’s almost gotten kicked out a few times. izuku’s always observing you, especially when you dance, and so he sweeps you into his arms after dinner, then slow dances with you.

shōto poses nude for you and sits pretty as you paint him onto your canvas, meticulously capturing the slopes and curves of his body. you’re the artist, and he’s your muse — even after years of painting him clothed or nude, he still gets hard from just your eyes on him. after a painstakingly long time spent correcting and coloring, you finally stand and give his drooling cock the attention it deserves.

denki’s a renowned singer, and you’re his groupie. despite the rumors of all the women he’s been with, you’ve come to learn that they were untrue. the second he saw you in the audience cheering, he decided to invite you backstage. then he started giving you free concert tickets to every show; it only progressed from there. so many of his fans are jealous, but he doesn’t care. if he could, he’d fuck your brains out right in front of them. denki helped make you famous by recording your voice and your moans in the studio, then he added them into his songs.

eijirou’s friends are tired of hearing about you all the time— all he does is rave about his beautiful model girlfriend and show pictures of her. he loves to participate in your social media posts and monitor the comment sections, etc. sometimes eijirou leaves one too many marks along your body (your boss hates him), or fucks you until you can barely walk just because. occasionally your instagram posts and sfw rating amps up when eijirou takes your phone and posts something a little suggestive about you two.

your most popular movie received worldwide attention, and even more when the truth about you and your costar, keigo, got out. you couldn’t escape the relationship questions all over social media or in interviews once everyone learned you’d hated each other behind the scenes, yet had unmistakable chemistry on screen. unbeknownst to the audience, you’d only maintained the chemistry with him because of some quick fucks before and after shooting. of course, it’s not like the sex stopped after filming and production— you’re still secretly seeing each other, practically dating now. your fans often ignore or wonder about the blank instagram account that likes to call you theirs in comments below your posts in response to others.

[chateaaa]

☆ What dating the blue lock characters feels like (pt 2)

Dating Sae Itoshi includes matching earrings, having your initial dangling in his dominant leg (so every time he scores he dedicates the goals to you), having you in the back of his phone, being mean to everyone but you, buying you everything you want, giving you his password to all his socials, buying you flowers every week, slow dancing in the rain, watching hello kitty with you, kissing you on the back of your hand <3

Dating Shidou Ryusui includes bear hugs!!, slapping your ass every time he gets a chance, biting you randomly, love hate relationship, "shut up" x "make me", would try to be romantic (it does not work), would always expect you watching his games, looking at you in the crowd if he scores a goal, making boys near you cry because he dosnt want them to steal you away from him

Dating Otoya Eita includes kissing you on the neck, painting each other's nails in the color of black, wearing a pink scrunchie you gave him as a joke he now won't remove it from his arm, giving you his hoodie, acts of service, only wearing this specific perfume when you guys meet, pocky game (he would purposely lose)

Dating Tabito Karasu includes flirting with you in front of your friends, matching lego heart keychain, giving you cute random things and saying "my chick number 7 gave this to me, i don't need it so you can have it" that's a lie, he spended 3 days deciding what to give you, carrying you like a sack around, matching sneakers

Dating Alexis Ness includes worshipping you like a goddess, loving every single part of you, carrying an extra ponytail for you, buying you snacks, being very possessive, always wanting to wear matching clothes, words of affirmation and physical touch!!, telling his teamates about how good and kind you are, literally making you experience any kind of dates ex: beach dates, museum dates, stargazing dates, always wanting to touch any part of your body; arms, cheeks, hands

Dating Hiori Yo includes arcade dates!!, winning you stuff toys in claw machines, gaming dates, photobooth dates, physical touch and quality time!!, cuddling while raining, playing games even if your horrible, the beds in minecraft being side by side, carrying you in literally any game, sending you spotify lyrics that he thinks relates to your relationship with him, watching netflix together during summer vacation

Dating Noel Noa includes waking up during weekends with him serving you breakfast in bed, carrying you around like a teddy, all love language, gifting you extravagant gifts everyday, leaving you colorful sticky notes in the counter everyday with daily reminders such as "don't forget to drink water" or "i'm going home late, you should sleep early today"

Dating Ikki Nikko includes only letting you touch his hair, cafe dates, letting you have his drink if you like it more, gifting you a giant teddy on your birthday, would always update you through chat, sending you spotify playlists, handwritten letters, sending memes to eachother, dreaming about being married and adopting 5 cats

Dating Yukimiya Kenyu includes neck kisses!, ranting about all his problems to you at 3 am while cuddling, taking pictures of you every time you go out, his wallpaper being you (he changes his wallpaper every week), just because flowers, photographer x model, always having your favorite food in his bag

Dating Charles Chevalier includes painting each other's nails with the eye color of each other, him only listening to you, sunshine x grumpy, always asking for headpats, booping your nose, watching disney every night before going to bed, expecting you to feed him every time you go out

idk guys kasasu and otoya feels ooc, I THINK IT'S VERY HARD TO WRITE ABOUT THEM SINCE I FEEL LIKE THEY'RE RED FLAGS AND I REALLY DON'T KNOW ABOUT THEIR PERSONALITY THAT MUCH..... (sorry karasu and otoya fans 😔😔) but anw hope you all still like it ☝🏻🤓

btw PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE SUGGEST ANYTHING TO WRITE IM HAVING WRITERS BLOCK LOL

[see-arcane]

My Criticism: the erotic bond of Thomas and Orlok and the romantic/sexual bond of Ellen and Anna deserved more focus. (But that's also my thoughts on the various Draculas). Happily surprised they gave some sexuality to the newlyweds it literally never happens with Dracula media

I think that for the amount of time and the focus of the story, Eggers fit in as much as he could without it overshadowing the main core of 1) Orlok targeting Ellen and 2) Thomas and Ellen being in love and headed for tragedy. And yes! Eggers lets these newlyweds be truly in love and hot for each other! It's like what we deserved with Jonathan and Mina for 127 years, very nearly! :')

SPOILERS BELOW

That said, I do think that short of a real kiss with Ellen and Anna, Eggers gave us a decent 'what-if' of what Mina and Lucy might have been like if they both made it to marriage (bar Harding not quite measuring up to Arthur Holmwood standards, loving husband and father though he is). They are both married young women now and Ellen is rooming under Anna's husband's roof. It'd be tricky to have anything properly raunchy go on, but we do at least get that scene of Ellen laying in bed with Anna!

Before the Orlok business happens. Augh.

As for Orlok and Thomas...oh, but there is a lot to unpack there.

To be clear, this is very much not Dracula and Jonathan's weird predatory thing. It is another, weirder, semi-callback to The Lighthouse kind of thing. At least in the vein that the brief homoerotic flints of interaction we get there--

The slow dance scene where the two men who hate each other almost share a kiss, only for the younger man to recoil in panic.

A scene of insults and accusation where the older man describes the younger as having eyes like a lady's.

--lean on braided elements of homoeroticism, homophobia, and violent/elder masculinity baring its teeth at gentler/younger masculinity via comparisons to women.

Or, to be frank, even as Orlok is bitter at Thomas being the man Ellen chose despite their 'covenant,' it isn't just the bitterness of, "She chose another man over me!" but, "She chose a weaker, younger, effeminate man over me!" Which paired perfectly (horribly) with his running theme of being a psychic rapist. Orlok is the more masculine man. Thomas is, in his eyes, the lesser, effete competition. Why, the boy may as well be a woman himself.

Cue Orlok taking a route with Thomas that we never see him take with any other man in the movie. He preys on Thomas in the exact same way he would eventually do to Ellen at the climax. The only dignity he leaves the young man with is that he does not strip him as he feeds--only Orlok is naked, crouched and feeding at Thomas' breast twice. The first time being the result of getting almost obscenely aroused--literally or hungrily--at the sight of Thomas' thumb bleeding. All we get to see there is Thomas' terror under sudden paralysis as Orlok closes in. And the next time we see Thomas is him, not on the chair where we last saw him, but sprawled on the floor.

On his stomach.

Dressed, true. But with his face and front down. Already bitten at the heart.

Then, in his last scenes with Orlok, we see him actively try to kill Orlok in his box. Orlok stops the attack, tracks him down to the locked room Thomas has hid in--a room in his own castle! which he could unlock!--and purposefully uses a trance to make Thomas open the door. Just as he trances Thomas into laying himself out on the bed, locked and afraid in his own body. Orlok falls on him, feeding again at Thomas' chest, loudly and deeply draining what sounds like a horrific amount of blood.

(There's a comment to be made about the reversal of taking in bodily fluids, but we'll skip that for now.)

In the midst of this, Thomas is treated to a vision of Ellen in Orlok's place. Seeing it, he looks almost docile. Welcoming.

Orlok, naked, drinks and drinks. And leaves him on the bed.

Instead of slaughtering him. He doesn't even call the wolves to him once he's finished to eat the leftovers.

Which I find strange, considering that in a future scene, Orlok muses aloud to Knock that Thomas yet lives. As if he's surprised. Did he have the wolves on a mental timer to come after Thomas by daylight? Or did he think that, despite Thomas' heart still miraculously beating, he had drained enough blood to assume the young man would die on his own?

Or.

Was the surprise not that Thomas was alive, but alive and human? Not the undead, like himself, like he planned to make Ellen?

It doesn't add up to have the wolves only appear by daylight to spook Thomas out of the window--if Orlok was so concerned about technically keeping his hands clean of murdering him and so keeping the covenant with Ellen technically not a thing of theft, he could have absolutely let the wolves in that night to finish the job and be sure Thomas was torn to pieces. Instead, Thomas is intact come sunup, the door left open to the wolves...

...who only come running and raging up to him once Thomas proves to still be alive and awake despite how he passed the night. Can't be undead if you aren't dead first. This, combined with how Thomas states later on that he still feels Orlok's shadow/hold on him, seems to imply that Orlok didn't want to just kill Thomas off. He seethes about Thomas so deeply that he would rather see the young man under his heel forever just as he means to keep Ellen under his thumb and mentally assaulted at every opportunity.

If Ellen is Orlok's prize for desire's sake, Thomas is Orlok's conquest made out of pride. 'Making a woman' of Ellen's chosen man. Hell, he puts the words in Ellen's mouth when he tugs a mental string in her to get them fighting. Despite Orlok only ever mentioning the technical truth of Thomas 'selling her for gold' (with a contract he could not read and assumed was for a commission and a completion of a house sale), Ellen somehow has the knowledge to accuse Thomas of 'falling into Orlok's arms'--when, in fact, Orlok mounted Thomas and did what he did.

...

......

.........

Which brings me to the grimmest point of this whole fucked up mess which I really truly hope is Not the Case.

Orlok had his puppeteer hands in both of the Hutters. He was obviously leaning heaviest on Ellen, but he had his grip on Thomas too. So I have to wonder.

How much of the sex scene between the Hutters was entirely their will?

What if Orlok, in full voyeur fashion, pulled even more strings to make that sudden feverish intimacy happen? Ellen says aloud that they will show him their love. Is it a show only Ellen wants them to put on? Or is it Orlok, once more violating his victims by proxy? Either way the shock-vision of Ellen weeping and vomiting blood cuts the mood immediately--however real or imagined it was--and both Hutters snap out of their haze to embrace.

No no no I am unclean

Nonsense I love you I love you

Something else for Orlok to watch. A little knife-twist from his face-to-face with Ellen--You cannot love--and fuel on the martyr fire for Ellen, who heard from Orlok that he would kill all she loves, including Thomas, if she refuses him--in another life, another threat: (If you make a sound I shall take him and dash his brains out before your very eyes.)--though the villain could have killed him a dozen times already. But she cannot take the gamble.

All of which is a very very long way of saying that while Orlok's main focus is definitely on Ellen, there are signs of another stranger hate-attraction with Thomas. The opponent he wants in full submission versus Ellen, the runaway bride to coerce into being his equal.

tl;dr: They're just not that into you, Orlok, let it go

[zweigsangel]

hockeyplayer!chris x ballerina!reader

gif made by me — moodboard.

he just can’t resist when he sees you— so undeniably cute and adorned in that soft, delicate shade of pink. smut, 18+

you didn’t hate that your father was the hockey coach, but what you really couldn’t stand was the routine that followed. after your dance class, when you were still in your leotard and tights, he'd swing by to pick you up, your hair still slightly damp from the exertion. instead of heading home, though, he’d take you with him to practice. every time, you’d sigh, sinking into the car seat, staring out the window as the city streets blurred past. you’d ask him, almost pleading, “can’t you drop me off at home first?” but every time, he’d look at you in the rearview mirror and he’d say, “no, sweetheart.”

so you sat there in the bleachers, watching the boys move across the ice, their faces flushed, sweat glistening on their foreheads as they skated back and forth. they were rough, energetic, colliding with each other and laughing, completely absorbed in their practice. the rink was cold, and the smell of the ice was sharp in the air. you sighed, reaching into your dance bag, feeling the familiar items inside—hairpins, ballet shoes, and a book. it was your habit to always carry a book with you, no matter where you were. with nothing else to do, you opened it and began to read, the words quickly pulling you into another world.

your hair was neatly tied in a tight bun, a pink ribbon wrapped around it in a delicate bow. your pastel pink leotard and matching skirt hugged your small frame, and your cheeks were still rosy from the exertion of your dance class. the way you focused on the pages in front of you, completely absorbed, made you look almost ethereal, like an angel.

chris sturniolo couldn’t help but notice. as he skated, his eyes kept drifting toward you, drawn to the way you sat there, so serene and out of place in that cold, rough environment. it was as if time slowed for him; you seemed to glow against the dim, harsh light of the rink. he was so entranced by the sight of you, with your delicate features and the soft pink of your outfit, that he didn’t see another player coming toward him.

suddenly, he collided with the boy, nearly knocking him over. “hey, chris, watch where you’re going!” the boy yelled, annoyed. the shout broke your concentration, and you looked up from your book, your eyes scanning the rink until they met chris’s. he was staring at you, completely ignoring the other boy. his blue eyes were locked on you, and even though you couldn’t see every detail from that distance, you noticed the way his cheeks were reddened, the embarrassed grin on his face, and the way he couldn’t look away. you couldn’t help but giggle at the scene, the corners of your mouth lifting as you watched him.

and so, naturally, as the practice drew to a close, he couldn't resist. the moment the whistle blew, he darted across the ice, his skates gliding effortlessly as if pulled by an invisible force towards you. you, meanwhile, were already packing up, your movements quick and efficient, the strap of your bag slipping over your shoulder. you were ready to leave.

“hey,” chris called out. his hand reached out, fingertips barely grazing your arm, so soft it was almost like a whisper. he feared you wouldn’t even notice the contact, but you did. you paused, turning around slowly, your wide, doe-like eyes locking onto his. there was a brief moment where time seemed to stretch, his breath catching in his throat as he took in every detail—the delicate curve of your lips, the gentle flutter of your long lashes, the soft flush on your cheeks.

'i... i'm chris,' he managed to say, the words tumbling out in a nervous rush. you giggled softly, the sound light and melodious, finding his awkwardness adorable. “hi, chris,” you replied with a warm smile. you then introduced yourself, the name rolling off your tongue like music to his ears.

“honey, i’ll wait for you at the car,” your father’s voice echoed, steady and firm. you glanced in his direction and gave a small nod, acknowledging him before turning back to chris. "i'm his daughter," you said, as if it wasn’t already obvious. "you’re beautiful," he murmured, almost without thinking, the words slipping out before he could stop them. he bit his lower lip and his eyes flickered over you, trying to take in every detail. the intensity of his gaze made your cheeks warm slightly. "you’re a ballerina, right?" he asked then. there was something in the way he asked, like he could already picture you moving to music, graceful and poised. “yeah.”

and even though your father was literally waiting for you outside, you found yourself sitting back down on the bleachers, talking to chris. time seemed to slip away as the conversation flowed, his initial nervousness fading with each word exchanged. around you, the locker room doors swung open, and one by one, the other boys filed out, their chatter and laughter filling the rink as they passed by.

"shit, i should go," you said after a while, suddenly standing up, the realization hitting you like a wave. chris immediately stood as well, the urgency in your voice pulling him to his feet. "no, wait," he pleaded, his hand reaching out instinctively to gently cup your cheek, turning your face back toward him. before you could respond, his lips were on yours.

the kiss started out soft, tender, his hands cradling your face as if you were something fragile. in that moment, everything else faded. his helmet, which had been in his hands, tumbled over, your fingers threaded through his hair. the gentle warmth of the kiss soon intensified, becoming more urgent, more demanding. without even realizing it, the two of you had moved, stumbling together into the locker room. you parted your lips slightly, a soft moan escaping as chris took the opportunity to deepen the kiss. his tongue slid into your mouth, exploring and savoring your sweet taste, sending a shiver down your spine.

you moved together in a heated rhythm, your bodies instinctively seeking more until your back pressed against the cold, hard wall. the contrast between the chill of the tiles and the warmth of his body made you gasp, and his hands found your hips, gripping you firmly as if anchoring you in place.

chris's touch was both possessive and tender, his fingers digging into your sides just enough to hold you steady, yet gentle enough to keep you wanting more. he pulled back for a moment, just long enough to yank off his jersey and toss it carelessly to the floor, before his lips found yours again with renewed urgency. his hands roamed over your body, exploring every curve and inch of you, and before you knew it, your skirt had slipped down, pooling at your feet.

"fuck," he muttered, his voice low and filled with desire, as your breaths grew more ragged, the heat between you building with each passing second. his hands were trembling slightly, driven by impatience and need, as he suddenly tore your bodysuit apart, the fabric ripping easily under his grip, falling to the ground in shreds.

"sorry," he whispered against your lips. “it's okay," you replied softly, as your hands moved to his waistband, quickly sliding his pants down, eager to feel more of him. a soft moan escaped his lips as he mirrored your movements, gently sliding down your stockings and panties. “may i?” he asked, his voice hushed. you nodded without hesitation, your breath hitching in anticipation.

his fingers began to explore between your folds, massaging you with slow, gentle strokes, each movement sending waves of pleasure through your body. the sensation made you moan softly, your lips parting as the sounds escaped. your hips began to move instinctively, pressing into his touch, silently pleading for more. “impatient, are we, angel?” he murmured, stopping his touch just as you were getting lost in the sensation, drawing a whimper of protest from your lips. his movements were deliberate now, unhurried, as he took a step back to lower his boxers down to his knees. then, he lifted you off the ground, his hands sliding under your thighs to support your weight.

"please," you whispered, your voice barely audible but laced with need. the word hung in the air between you, a plea that sent a shiver down his spine. it was all the encouragement he needed. with a slow, deliberate thrust, he pushed into you.

his head dropped to your shoulder, and a deep grunt escaped his lip. you clung to him, your manicured nails digging into his back, leaving faint marks that made him groan deeply. the sound reverberated in your ears, adding to the electric atmosphere that surrounded you both.

his movements were unhurried, each thrust slow and purposeful, as if he wanted to savor every second, every sensation. "you take me so well, angel," he moaned out, his voice thick with pleasure as he started sliding in and out of you faster. his words sent a shiver through you, intensifying the heat building inside.

your head fell back against the cold wall behind you as his hands cupped your breasts, your nipples hardening from his touch. every thrust pushed you closer to the edge, your breaths growing shallow and rapid. you could feel the tension coiling tighter within you, a sweet pressure that was becoming almost unbearable, signaling that you were getting closer.

and he understood, feeling the way your walls tightened around him, a clear signal that you were on the brink. "oh god," he muttered under his breath, his voice laced with urgency as his hips moved quicker, the need to reach his own release driving him forward.

the intensity of it all became too much, and you couldn’t hold back any longer. the orgasm crashed over you, your body trembling as waves of pleasure coursed through you. you felt your release spill over, coating him and your thighs as he continued to move within you. the sensation of you unraveling around him pushed him over the edge, and with a deep, guttural groan, he followed you into ecstasy, his body tensing as he found his own release, filling you up completely.

he slowly pulled out of you, his movements careful as he adjusted his boxers and pants. his gaze dropped to the torn body on the floor, the delicate fabric ripped in half. “shit, ‘m sorry. i didn’t mean to,” he stammered, hands gesturing aimlessly. you let out a soft, breathy chuckle, your lips curling into a slight smile as you shook your head. “hey, it’s okay,” you murmured, the sound of your voice gentle. “really, it’s not a big deal. although... i’m not sure how i’m going to explain this,” you added, a hint of playful exasperation in your tone. and your father obviously didn’t take it well, seeing you walk up to him wearing chris’s jersey, your own shirt ruined and your hair a tousled mess.

[wchswift]

ଓ LAP OF (DIS)COMFORT

pairing: logan howlett x reader

summary: during movie night, the only available seat is on logan's lap.

word count: 727

ℒogan masterlist !

── english isn't my first language :)

mdni 𖤐 18+

Deadpool had a habit of... Well, once a thought settled in his mind, he wouldn't fucking drop it. And ever since Logan became a part of your lives, Deadpool has been obsessed with hosting a movie night every week.

Now each week, without exception, he would gather everyone in the living room to watch a movie and keep Logan up to date. Though the grumpy man would never openly admit it, there was a flicker of enjoyment in him.

Today, however, this crazy slacker had put you in charge of making the popcorn. Something you did after little complaint, but as you returned to the living room, balancing several buckets of freshly popped popcorn, your ungrateful friends had claimed every available seat, leaving you without a seat and standing awkwardly in the middle of the room.

You glance around, hands on your hips. “Okay, where the hell am I supposed to sit?”

“Lap dance roulette,” Wade announces, sprawled across half the couch like some kind of human starfish. “Winner gets Logan.”

Your stomach twists, heat creeping up your neck before you can shove it down. You’re not looking at Logan. But you feel his eyes on you like he already knows where this is going. You fucking hated Wade.

"Not happening," Logan grunts, beer in hand, shoulders tense where he sits in the only available armchair.

You fold your arms. "Alright, then where am I sitting?"

“Floor’s right there,”

You glare. “Yeah? Maybe I should make you sit on the floor.”

His lips twitch—almost a smirk—but he takes a long sip of beer instead like he’s enjoying your irritation.

“Oh for f—just sit in his lap,” Vanessa replies, impatient but with a mischievous smile appearing on her lips, throwing popcorn at Wade when he starts waggling his eyebrows. “We don’t have all night.” Great, everyone was against you today.

"Come on, guys! If you all sit down properly, I can easily sit on the couch too," You said, mainly to Wade, who was taking up practically half the couch by himself. When no one answered and carried on talking and complaining, you let out a sigh.

You run your hand over your face, your jaw clenched, but you weigh your options. One: stand for two hours. Two: sit on the floor uncomfortable like an outcast. Or three—

Logan exhales sharply, like he’s already regretting this. "Just sit, sweetheart. Get it over with."

Sweetheart.

Your pulse stutters for a fraction of a second. Logan rarely calls you that—not in that tone, not in front of other people.

But if he’s not making a big deal out of it, then neither are you.

So, ignoring the way your palms suddenly feel a little too warm, you lower yourself onto his lap.

His thighs are solid. That’s your first thought. The second is that you probably should’ve just picked the floor, because now you’re fully aware of everything. The way his chest moves when he breathes. The slow curl of his fingers against his beer bottle. The warmth of his body against yours.

You shift slightly, trying to find a comfortable spot—

A muscle in Logan’s jaw jumps. His hand finds your hip. “Jesus, would you quit moving?”

Your breath catches. His voice is low, rough—gravel and tension rolled into one. And his fingers? Just the barest bit possessive where they tighten against your side.

Wade whistles. "Well, someone’s having a great time. Logan, buddy, is that a blush?"

Logan flips him off but doesn't move his hand.

Doesn’t let go; he actually lets his hand settle loosely on your waist as if to keep you steady. To keep you there.

Your throat feels dry. This was supposed to be nothing—just a seat. But now? The air’s buzzing. Your heart’s drumming. And you swear, swear, that Logan’s grip lingers just a second too long to be innocent.

You don’t say anything about it.

Neither does he.

But as the movie plays, his hand moves to your hip and stays firm. And when you shift—just once—his fingers twitch, like he wants to pull you closer but won’t.

Tension crackles between you like a live wire.

Yeah. You’re definitely not paying attention to the movie tonight.

𖤐 reblogs and feedback are appreciated! requests are also welcome, ty!

taglist: @namikyento (if you want to be added let me know <3)

[myladysapphire]

Red

you are a priestess of R'hollor, sent to dragonstone to assure the bloodline of the prince who was promised. And though you are welcomed by the queen, prince Jacaerys only looks at you with trempidation, seeing your place at his mothers side to be some ploy. But luckily for you there is always a way for the red priesstes to sawy others to their cause.

based of this request

word count: 1,476

CW: MDI 18+,smut, p in v, oral (m reciving), not proofread!

Jacaerys Veleryon x red priestess!reader

Masterlist

dividers by @zaldritzosrose

authors note: defintly canon divergant, and does not follow the plot of hotd or got.

You had been sent to Dragonstone before the dance of dragons to treat with Rhaenyra. Sent on a mission by the cult of R’hllor to ensure the bloodline of the prince who was promised survived.

And though you had quickly won over Rhaenyra, winning a seat on her council, you had yet to win over her son and heir.

With years of wisdom, and a skilled seer, she saw you as a key advisor and so your advice was greatly valued by her.

But the prince Jacearys was weary of your presence. Not taking kindly to just how quickly you had found yourself on the council, or to how close you and his mother had grown.

But what he was most weary about was just how enthralled by you he was.

The second he had seen you he was enchanted, his eyes always roaming over to yours. At dinners he always found himself seated beside you, his yes drawn to your low-cut red dress.

You were always in red. Your gowns a deep blood red, matching the blood ruby of the necklace always clasped around your neck.

The gem seemed to glow, as if enchanted, and all Jace could ever imagine was taking it off and replacing it with his hand as he filled you with his cock.

Perhaps it was the teasing smile you would give him whenever you spoke, or how you seemed to always match his heated glare with your own.

But nevertheless, his thoughts were filled with lust and desire, all for you.

“My prince” you greeted, as he walked into his rooms to find you seated on his desk.

“Did the guards let you in?” he asked, moving towards you. He seemed unsure of your presence, still unsure of what to make of you, of your place by his mother’s side.

“no” you said, smirking.

“Then how- “

“It matters not, my prince” you said as he came to stand before you. “Do you hate me so much that you cannot even stand my presence?” you teased.

“I do not hate you” he denied.

“Then what is it, hmm? Is it that you are jealous?” you said, moving your face closer to his.

“Jealous of what?” he said, not unkindly.

“I do not know my prince, perhaps it is that your mother chooses my council over your own…” you trailed of noticing his angered face. You smiled slightly. “Do not worry, sweet prince, you have no need to be jealous.” You hand moved to his chest.

“And why is that” he mused, swallowing slightly as you started to caress his chest.

“I only act in your interest” you said, motioning him to sit, on the chair in front of you.

“My interest”

“Yes...you are the future king, are you not?”

He nodded, slowing as you began to open your legs.

“I only wish to protect the realm, and as king is that not your duty?” you asked, your legs open fully know, your bare cunt on display.

“It is...yes” you dropped your hand from his chest, moving it to play with skirt of your dress.

You smiled, “did you know that as a babe I was gifted to the temple of R’hollor, bound to serve the lord of light before I could even talk…and then my skills as a seer were discovered.” You said as moved your hands to your shoulders, teasing Jace as you toyed with the sleeves of your dress, pulling them down ever so slightly.  “And as a seer I see many things, do you know what one of those things was?”

He shook his head, his eyes drawn to your cleavage.

You smiled, teasingly, “you on the iron throne, your curls” you moved to touch his curls, threading them through your fingers, as you pulled his face closer to yours “your brown eyes, and the conquers crown before your brow, the very image of a king” your mouths were so close, so close that you were sharing each other’s breaths.

“And as a king, you can have whatever your heart desires…any wife…any lover” you whispered, and as the word lover left your mouth, his lips descended on yours.

It was a heated kiss, fuelled by the envy he had felt for you, the desire he had felt, and the pure lust he had dreamt of.

You moaned into his mouth, a pure unfiltered moan, which caused Jace to act.

He stood from his chair, pushing you back on the desk. He pulled up of what little of your dress remained on you.

His body covered yours and he continued to kiss you, his hands flying to your side as he pulled you towards him. His tongue teasing your lips before plunging into your mouth.

His hips ground against yours, his clothes cock rubbing against your bare cunt, as you laid on the table, his tongue dominating your mouth.

He pulled back Sharpley, settling back his in seat, taking in your naked from.

As you sat up, he drew you towards him, his eyes firm.

“Anything I desire?” he questioned.

You nodded,

Breath heavy.

He laughed slightly, “and if I wanted you off my mother s council? If I only wanted, you by my side and not hers?”

“Then I would do as my king bids” you said, moving of the table, to settle between his knees.

Your hands toyed with the laces of his breeches.

He smirked, “good.” He titled his head, “then your king bids you to suck his cock” he said, as your hands tore into his breeches, his cock springing free.

Taking him into your mouth, he let out a low moan.

His hands coming to grasp your head as he began to thrust his hips into your mouth, fucking your face, as you sucked on his cock.

His hips moved fast, and before you knew it the sour taste of cum filled your mouth.

Swallowing, you looked him in the yes, moving to sit in his lap. But Jace acted faster, turning you around and bending you over the table.

He was completely naked now also.

You could feel his chiselled chest against you back as he entered you.

Bounding hard and fast, as you desperately gripped to the table.

His cock filled you in the most pleasurable of ways, hitting that one sweet spot again and again.

Moans spilled out of your mouth as you peak hit you. It was quick and sudden, but it seemed so was Jace’s, as you soon felt his seed spilling it you.

he leant his head against your back as you both caught your breath.

Taking in the moment, as his seed spilled out of you and hit the floor.

You turned around to face him, taking in his dishevelled naked form.

“My prince- “you started, breath heavy.

“Was your vison true?” he questioned, interrupting you.

“As true as I can believe, my prince”.

“Jace, please, call me Jace”.

“Jace” you smiled, “I was sent here for a purpose, I am on your mother’s council for a purpose, and that is to ensure her bloodline, to ensure you sit on that iron throne after her”.

“Why? You came is so abruptly, and before I knew it my mother favoured your advice over my own- “

“Because I knew of the prophecy”.

“The prophecy?” he asked confused.

“The prince who was promised?” you asked, unsure of how he did not know, “the prince that was promised was prophesied five thousand years ago, it was said that he shall be Born amidst salt and smoke, beneath a bleeding star." You said, thinking his mother surely must have told him, “It is believed he shall be Azor Azhai, the lord of light reborn. Your ancestor Aegon the conquered dream to of him, it is believed he shall come from your bloodline.”

“This is why my mother trusts you? Because of a prophecy” he said, not believing you. “I had thought you a witch, enchanting us all”.

You laughed, “not quite my prince, though the lord of light blesses some with magic, he only blessed me with sight and this gem” you said, grasping the gem between your fingers.

“I’ve always wondered about that gem, what does it do?” he asked, reaching for it. You gently slapped his fingers out of the way.

“Only time shall tell you that”.

He smirked, “so you are a witch?” he laughed.

“No…” you trailed of your hand still gripping his.

“I must tell my mother!” he said dramatically, “first a priestess of R’hollor and now a witch! Whatever shall she think?” he said, teasingly.

And you shut him up with a kiss, your hand reaching down to his cock once more.

And soon his cock was filling you over and over again, all through the night.

Talks of prophecy and thrones long forgotten.

taglist

@apollonshootafar @flrboyd @theanxietyqueen17 @dark-night-sky-99 @zillahvathek @leavesmealobe @winter-soldier-101 @bunbunbl0gs @ka1afbr @tesha-i-guess @aemondwhoresworld @RAYNETARGARYEN2 @cloboboo @now-i-have-a-new-obsession @littlebirdgot @eddieslut69 @aegonswife @beebeechaos @jennifer0305 @rosedurin @berightback1409 @barnes70stark

to be added to taglist

[athenamikaelson]

Written in the Stars

Klaus Mikaelson x Reader!Soulmate x Elijah Mikaelson PART 1

Word Count- 4.3k

Warnings- Swearing, blood, death, panic attacks, mentions of the confederacy (ew)

A/N- This will be a slow-burn series.

The reader has a brother, I know it’s not very X Reader, but it’s to help the storyline.

I brush down the black tie my younger brother is wearing, the satin fabric making me slightly cringe. 

“Are you sure you’re not going to go? We can go show those stuffy old bitches how to really party.”

I let out a small huff at Theo’s question, shaking my head amused.

“I’d rather not spend my Friday night with a bunch of Mystic Falls’ elite. Hearing them talk about how they’re so proud of their southern heritage,” Both my brother and I let out sounds of disgust, “the Confederates lost get over it.”

Theo stands in front of the hallway mirror and oggles himself. Where I am rather introverted, my younger brother is most likely the most self-confident person I have ever met. He has called himself, “A gift to the human race,” on more than one occasion. So it takes him about a good 9 minutes to gaze at himself in the mirror before we walk out the front door to the car. 

We drive in silence, or I drive in silence as Theo hypes himself up in the passenger side mirror. 

After a 10-minute drive that seems to have taken at least twice that time, we finally reach the long driveway of the mayor’s house. 

“Why are you even going to this masquerade thing anyways, you hate dances,” I ask him as we wait behind a line of cars.

“Tyler is my football captain, and this thing is to honor his father, I’m here for my fellow man,” Theo presses a fist to his chest and puts on a fake sympathetic look.

“So you’re actually doing it because you want to get on Tyler’s good side so he puts you on Varsity?”

Theo’s look drops and is replaced with a shit-eating grin, “You know me so well.”

As we get to the front of the line of cars, I hum along to the Coldplay song playing on the radio.

“So what are you going to do while waiting for me?”

I pull my car up to the front of the “house” which is really just a mansion. 

“I have a feeling you won’t be here very long, or stay out of trouble so I’m just going to park somewhere and wait for you.”

My brother gives me a look that looks like he agrees about him getting into trouble and nods his head. I put the car in park and Theo unbuckles his seat and gets out, straightening out his suit as he goes.

“Bye nerd, don’t wait up!” Theo yells as he climbs the stairs walking past Mystic Falls’ elite. I let out a sigh and pull away to find a parking spot. 

—

My fingers graze the pages of my book as I glance at the time, Theo has been here for over an hour now and hasn’t shown any signs of leaving. I bring my book up to continue reading when a figure in the distance catches my eye. I lean forward and catch a glimpse of who I believe to be, Elena Gilbert. Elena’s a popular girl in my grade, who I’ve probably had two interactions with in my short time here in Mystic Falls. I don’t know much about her other than that she’s dating some guy named Stefan, her parents died in a car accident and her brother is in the same grade as Theo. Theo and Elena’s brother don’t hang out either because Theo says he’s a “stoner emo.” Theo’s never been one to keep his thoughts to himself. 

Elena seems to walk with a slight limp which makes me slightly concerned but nothing to make me go out and try to talk to her. I hate talking to people in general, especially kids my age. Elena has always seemed nice but I’m not taking the risk of rejection.

 Or at least I wasn’t until I saw a man in a mask start following behind her.

I may hate interacting with people but I would never let another girl get attacked if I had the power to stop it. The next thing I know I’m hopping out of my car and jogging behind them. 

“Elena behind you!” I yell to her, but I freeze as the man hits her and knocks her to the ground. I let out a yelp as I turned to try to get help but a sharp pain hits my skull and everything goes black. 

—-

“Y/N, can you hear me?”

A voice comes from above me and a wave of nausea washes over me. My eyes open and close a dozen times trying to get used to the bright light before I can focus on the person in front of me. Elena Gilbert. Why is Elena Gilbert in my bedroom?  I mean she’s really pretty and all I just thought she had a boyfriend. I’m not a homewrecker. 

“Oh thank god you’re awake!”

Elena whisper-yells to me as she brushes a piece of my hair behind my head and grimaces when she looks at my forehead. She brings her hand back and a wave of fear and disgust washes over me as I see her hand covered in a red liquid. Blood. My blood. I try to bring my hand up but Elena stops me.

“Don’t exert yourself we don’t want it to bleed more, okay?”

She gives me a small smile but something about it makes me feel uneasy. I don’t understand why until I turn my gaze away from her and look at our surroundings. Dirt-covered walls, glass-covered floors, and a mildew stench are what take focus. I’ve always been sensitive to smells but with the addition of my raging migraine, I am fighting the urge to keep down the rising bile in my throat. 

My breathing starts to quicken and I can feel the start of a panic attack starting to make an appearance. 

“Elena, where are we?”

I wouldn’t be surprised if she didn’t understand what I was saying since my words seemed to be jumbling together. 

Elena glances around us and gives me a solemn look.

“I don’t know, I woke up here a little while ago before I was knocked back out by the people that took us. I’m truly sorry about this Y/N. I would never wish for you to be a part of this.”

I furrow my eyebrows at her last comment as if she were responsible for the reason we were taken.

“It’s not your fault,” I shake my head and start tapping my fingers together one by one, a habit I’ve picked up to ground myself whenever my anxiety gets too strong.

Elena’s eyebrows mirror mine and she goes to say something but a young man with shaggy hair walks in.

“Oh goody, the other ones awake. How are you doing, sleeping beauty?” 

The man starts to walk over to me with a look in his eyes that makes the bile in my throat inch even closer to the surface. But within another second Elena stands from beside me, on what I can see now is a couch, and blocks me from the man’s view.

“I’m the one you want, Y/N is innocent, just let her go.” 

I want to back Elena up and defend her too but with the migraine and the onslaught of emotions I’m feeling right now, being verbal isn’t something I see happening in my current future. 

“You’re right, Dopalicious, she’s not, but I can’t just let her go, what if she were to go and warn those friends of yours? Can’t let that happen now can we?” 

Elena goes to stand her ground but within a blink of an eye she’s shoved backward and lands on the other side of the couch. I flinch at the action which gives the man the opportunity to come in front of me. I start trembling as I look up to him. I try to push farther back into the couch but I’m squished into it as far as I can go. 

“Stay away from me,” Finally able to find somewhat of my voice again. This doesn’t seem to scare away the man, and honestly, I don’t blame him. My voice sounded like it came from a scared 5-year-old. 

“Just a taste, I’m starving.”

My mouth opens to question what he says but a millisecond later I feel myself being grabbed and a sharp piercing attacks the left side of my neck. I’m hyperventilating and screaming at the same time somehow as I hear Elena’s yells from beside us. 

“Don’t touch her!”

Elena’s yell comes from beside us and I’m thrown away back onto the couch. I’m disorientated as I look up to see the man before me rubbing his cheek and Elena standing next to him holding her right hand. She’d punched him. My vision strays from Elena’s red knuckles back up to the man, who has something dripping from his mouth. My chest feels like it locks up as I stare at the liquid dripping, everything seems to be going in slow motion for me as I watch the drops start at the man's chapped lips to the drops of blood falling onto the cracked hardwood floors. Wait, blood. He has blood dripping from his mouth. Had Elena punched him that hard? I start to believe that possibility until I feel a wetness drip between my chest. 

My already shaking hand moves to my chest as I swipe a finger along the liquid. My vision blurs as the red liquid drips from my fingertip down into the palm of my hand. I can’t register Elena’s voice as she kneels in front of me and presses something to my neck. The blood coating my hand is all I can see and smell. 

“Y/N….Y/N! Just focus on my voice ok, breathe. I think you’re having a panic attack.”

A cool hand is pressed onto the side of my face and I close my eyes at the embrace. 

“Ok that’s good, I’m going to stand you up to get a better look at your neck ok?” 

I feel like I’m running on auto-pilot or something else is controlling my body and mind as I stand up and grip Elena’s upper arms to keep myself steady. Elena returns the pink fabric from my neck and leans down to glance at the wound.

“Ok, it’s not as bad as I had originally thought. Just keep this here and it’ll help control the bleeding.” 

I must still be in shock because Elena has to bring the shirt to my hand, wrap my fingers around it, and finally press my hand into my neck. The shock of pain washes through me and brings me back to reality. My vision can’t seem to focus on one thing for too long as my eyes keep darting from the blood on the floor, my blood, to the look on Elena’s face, to the man standing behind us with a scowl on his ugly face. Blood, Elena, man. Blood, Elena, man. Blood, Elena, man. This sequence continues until another person enters the room, a woman.

“He’s here.”

The woman with a pixie cut says, her voice seemingly scared.

The man next to us shifts his scowl into a look of pure fear.

“This was a mistake,” He rushes over to the woman and shakes his head. 

“No, I told you I would get us out of this. You have to trust me,” She tries to talk him down which only seems to freak him out more.

“No! He wants me dead Rose,”

The woman points at Elena, “He wants her more.”

I glance to Elena who is standing in front of me slightly as if to hide me from the two strangers or cannibals. Since I’ve calmed down momentarily and I’ve begun to stop the tears, that unbeknownst to me, had fallen on my cheeks. I’ve also realized that I’ve been kidnapped by cannibals, that being the only reasonable explanation I can come up with.

The two cannibals start arguing about some man but I turn to Elena who looks almost as scared as I feel. 

“What’s going on Elena, who’s coming,” I whisper to her.

Elena turns her head slightly to me and gives me a frown and a shake of her head. 

“A man named Elijah, but don’t worry ok,” Elena grabs my free hand and holds it in her own, “I’m not going to let them hurt you anymore.”

I nod trying to find comfort in her words but the girl in front of me is 17 years old and maybe 110 pounds I don’t see how she’s going to protect us both from two cannibals and whatever mega cannibal these two are terrified of. I don’t know if the other guy is a cannibal but using context clues I’m guessing he is. 

“What are we?”

The woman’s voice brings my attention back to them as I see her grab his arms. This seems to calm the man down. 

“We’re family. Forever.” 

I might’ve found this endearing if it weren’t for the fact the man had my blood drying on his upper lip and they were literal cannibals. 

A loud knock startles all four of us. Elena and I both shoot each other wary glances, our hands still intertwined. I don’t usually like being touched but given the circumstances I can let this slide. 

The woman looks over at Elena and me as Elena slightly turns her head, “You’re scared.”

The woman says something else to her friend and then runs up the stairs.

—

What seems like forever of waiting and pacing around is broken up by footsteps coming from the top of the banister. I can feel Elena freeze up from beside me as we both look up to see a man in a suit staring down at her. The man has dark hair and eyes and a chiseled face.

Why is this cannibal not ugly? Wrong Turn had it all wrong.

We all stand there watching Elena and the suited cannibal stare at each other. I can feel Elena’s shaking hand in my own and try to comfort her by squeezing her hand to let her know I’m right beside her. That is until the man transports himself from the top of the banister to right in front of Elena in the blink of an eye. The movement makes me lose my balance and I fall back onto the couch. 

No one seems to notice me as my panic attack starts to build up as I try to understand how this is possible. How could he have been that fast, it’s impossible.

Oh god, I'm going to throw up. 

“And who is this?”

A deep voice comes from above me and my stomach flips at the sound.

Definitely going to throw up. 

“She’s no one. She has nothing to do with this, just please leave her alone.” 

Hearing Elena’s voice makes me raise my head and I regret it instantly because I lock eyes with the suited monster, who is now standing above me staring down at me. The man’s face instantly goes slack as his eyes meet mine, a look of recognition seems to pass through his dark eyes as they move fast across my face. The man’s mouth opens and closes many times as if he can’t quite find the right words to say. The slack expression from before softens into something that makes my stomach flip again. This guy is so going to kill me when I throw up on his expensive ass shoes. His soft, dark pink lips curve up at the corners slightly.

“You’re real.” 

Everyone else in the room seems to know just as much as me with what he’s talking about because they all have looks of confusion on their faces. Feels somewhat comforting to be on the same page as everyone else for once. 

The man doesn’t once take his eyes off of me this entire time, “What is your name, Elskan?” 

I freeze under his stare and try to avert my eyes, this gives Elena the ability to step in for me. 

“Her name is Y/N,” I look to the man as he mouths my name slightly to himself as if he wants to know how it sounds on his tongue, “Please don’t hurt her Elijah, she doesn’t even know about the supernatural, I’ll go with you willingly.” 

Elena’s words make me freeze up. What does she mean by supernatural?

I flinch as the man, Elijah, brings his hand up. This stops him for a moment. 

“I would never harm you. You have my word on that.”

I can only sit there frozen as he cups my face with his hand and uses his thumb to brush a stray tear away that must’ve fallen during one of my many panic attacks. He seems delighted at the moment until the soft expression he has on his face darkens into something that makes that bile rise even farther up. His eyes dart from the top of my head and drag themselves down to my chest and neck. I try to move away but his hand has a soft but firm hold on my face. 

“Who did this to you?” 

My eyebrows furrow at his question, and I must’ve not answered quickly enough because he turns to glare at Elena, making her flinch.

“The head injury is from the kidnapping and then the bite is from… um,” she glances towards my neck and then to Trevor who looks like he’s about to internally combust. She goes silent again at Elijah’s stare and he turns his attention back towards me. The glare long gone and replaced once again with a softer look.

“I see. Here,” I have to swallow back down the bile as I watch the man rip into his wrist and put it in front of my face expectantly. I sit there in horror and quickly look to Elena, who doesn’t look as nearly surprised as she definitely should be, given that this man just BIT HIMSELF. 

“It’s true Y/N, it’ll heal you.” 

I open my mouth to say something which must’ve somehow been an ok to the man as he presses his wrist to my open mouth. I’m about to push him off, or at least try, but stop at the heavenly liquid that spills into my mouth. Elijah brings his other hand up to brush back my fallen hair.

  “Good girl, Elskan.” 

Elijah removes his wrist and I sit there silently staring at my lap as I realize what I had just done. I just drank fucking blood, and I liked it?!??! Oh god, does this make me a cannibal now?

Elijah seems to be fighting an inner battle as he moves his eyes away from mine and onto the man behind us. Elena and I watch before us as Elijah approaches the scared man/cannibal thing.

“I’ve waited so long for this day, Elijah. Truly very sorry,” Trevor says with a bowed head as Elijah circles him. Almost how a predator circles its prey. 

“Well, no, your apology is not necessary,” Elijah responds but something in his tone doesn’t sit right with me.

“Yes, yes it is. You trusted me with Katerina. And I failed you.”

“Well, yes, you are the guilty one,” Elijah glances at him and then up to the woman, “And Rose aided you because she was loyal to you. That I honor…”

Elijah comes to stand in front of the man, “Where was your loyalty?”

“I beg your forgiveness.”

The oxygen in the room seems to be dwindling as everyone watches the interaction.

“So granted.” 

The deep breath I was to let out is replaced by a scream and I can only watch in horror as Elijah throws his hand over to the man, decapitating him. A heart-wrenching wail comes from Rose and I can’t seem to take my eyes away from the body-less head that is lying in front of me. 

“I’m going to-”

Vomit spurts from my mouth and onto the floor in front of me. Burning from the back of my throat causes tears to build up and block my vision. I feel someone lift my hair and hold it away from my face. I thought it was Elena, until Elijah’s voice sounds from beside me.

“I’m truly sorry, Elskan. I shouldn’t have done that in front of you.” 

I lift my head to stare at him and find him kneeling right next to me. He reaches into his front pocket grabs, a fancy napkin, and wipes my mouth with it. Not seeming disgusted, just disheartened. He wraps his hand in mine and stands me up. 

“We can leave now, we have quite the journey ahead of us,” Elijah leads me over to where Elena is standing and motions for her to follow.

“No! What about the moonstone,” She questions him.

He stands in front of her with a small scowl, “What do you know about the moonstone?”

“I know that you need it. And I know where it is. I can help you get it”

Elijah nods his head, “Tell me where it is.” 

“It doesn’t work that way.”

Elijah’s eyebrow twitches in annoyance as he glances back at Rose, “Are you negotiating with me?”

Rose just shakes her head and tells him she doesn’t know anything. Elijah then turns back around to stare at Elena for a moment before scowling and reaching up to her necklace, then rips it off. 

“What is this vervain doing around your neck,” He throws the necklace behind him and grabs Elena by the neck, dropping my hand in the process. I go to try to get her away but Elijah shoots me a warning look that has me freezing in place, “Tell me where the moonstone is.”

In a monotone voice, Elena replies, “In the tomb underneath the church ruins.”

“What is it doing there?”

“It’s with Kathrine.”

The rest of their interaction is cut short when a glass shatters from somewhere upstairs. Elijah comes over to me and grabs me by my waist bringing me into him almost protectively. 

“What was that,” He asks Rose.

“I don’t know.”

“Who else is in this house?’’

To which he gets the same response. 

Elijah grabs Elena quite harshly with his free hand and guides both of us to the top of the banister. His hand never moving from the top of my hip. Once we make it to the entryway something rushes by us, Elijah pushes Elena off into Rose’s arms but still keeps his hold on me. 

“Up here.”

“Down Here.”

Voices call from the top and bottom of the stairs catching all of our attention. Elijah lifts his hand from my hip and motions for me to go over to Rose.

“Don’t let her out of your sight,” He warns her as he moves to the staircase. 

A moment goes by before something flies through the air and pierces itself through Elijah’s hand. I let out a yelp but Elijah doesn’t even seem fazed. 

My vision is blurred for a moment, when it clears, I realize I’m now standing next to Rose with an unfamiliar dark-haired man in front of us. He motions with his finger to be quiet. Ya as if I was going to say anything anyway. 

“Excuse me,” Elijah’s voice comes from below, “To whom it may concern. You’re making a grave mistake if you think that you can beat me. And you can’t. You hear that? I repeat, you cannot beat me. So I want the girls on the count of three, or heads will roll.” 

The man who has his hands on Rose’s and I’s mouths moves his head to glance at Elijah downstairs. 

“Do we understand each other?” 

“I’ll come with you,” I perk up at Elena’s voice. What the hell is she doing?!? But the blue-eyed man in front of me shakes his head at me telling me not to move. 

“Just please don’t hurt my friends. They just wanted to help me out.”

“What game are you playing with me? Where is Y/N? I won’t be leaving without her.”

Elijah’s skeptical voice questions her. There’s a sound of metal, and then a loud boom, and then I hear Elijah let out a yell. The sound for some reason makes my chest feel like it wants to cave in on itself. Rustling and fighting sounds come from below us before the man holding Rose and I leaves. Rose runs after him, but I can’t seem to get my feet to work so I just sit there on the dusty floor staring at the peeling wallpaper in front of me. 

A few moments pass before I hear Elena’s voice along with two unfamiliar men, one who I’m assuming is the blue-eyed guy from before. 

“Where is Y/N,” Elena asks.

“Are you talking about that girl that smells like vomit?” A snarky voice questions her. If I hadn’t just gotten kidnapped and had one of the worst days of my life, I might’ve taken offense, but I did just get kidnapped and honestly, I do smell like vomit so he’s not wrong. 

“I think she’s over there.” 

Footsteps get closer to me as I look up with tears in my eyes at Elena. She gives me a small smile before kneeling and wrapping her arms around me in a hug. 

“What is happening Elena?” 

“I’ll explain everything if you want me to ok? Let’s just get out of here first ok?”

Elena stands up and reaches down her hand for me to take, and with a deep breath, I do.

[jaylalolz]

❛ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐍𝐄 ❜ . . . nicholas chavez

SUMMARY, nicholas’ takes his crush on a special special date, blindfolding her as he leads her to a romantic setup he has prepared.

A/N, have fun reading !!

WARNINGS, none 

Nicholas had been planning this date for weeks, constantly going over every detail in his mind until it was perfect. Now, as they drove through the city, the late afternoon sun painting the sky in hues of orange and pink, he glanced over at her, her face glowing even under the blindfold.

"You’re killing me, Nick," she laughed, fidgeting with the edge of the blindfold. "Can I please know where we’re going?"

"Nope," Nicholas grinned, gently reaching over to still her hands. "It’s a surprise, and we’re almost there. Just trust me."

She huffed dramatically, but there was a smile on her lips, her excitement bubbling underneath her playful complaints. "I do trust you," she said softly, "I just really hate not knowing."

Nicholas squeezed her hand, the butterflies in his stomach fluttering wildly. "You’re going to love it, I promise."

A few minutes later, the car slowed to a stop. Nicholas parked and came around to open her door, guiding her out carefully. Her fingers tightened around his as they walked, and he could sense her curiosity growing. The smell of roses and fresh air surrounded them, and Nicholas led her to a spot he had chosen just for this moment.

"Okay," he whispered, standing behind her now, gently holding her shoulders. "On the count of three, you can take off the blindfold. Ready?"

She nodded eagerly, her heart pounding in anticipation.

"One… two… three."

Her fingers quickly untied the blindfold, and when her eyes adjusted to the soft golden light of the setting sun, her breath caught in her throat. In front of her was a beautifully laid-out scene: a large poster that read, "Can I be your boyfriend?" written in bold letters, surrounded by rose petals scattered across the ground. Balloons floated gently in the breeze, a teddy bear sat waiting by the poster, and a box of chocolates rested beside it. The entire area felt magical, like it had been pulled from a dream.

Her hands flew to her mouth, tears welling in her eyes as she turned to Nicholas. "Are you serious?"

Nicholas’s face was flushed, nervousness and excitement mingling together as he stood there, waiting for her reaction. "I’ve been serious about you since elementary school," he confessed, his voice soft but steady. "I’ve liked you for so long, even back when we were kids. I just never had the guts to say it. But now… I don’t want to wait anymore. I knew back then that you were the one."

Her heart melted at his words, the emotion flooding through her as she stepped closer to him, tears of happiness spilling over. "Nicholas…" she whispered, her voice shaky. "I don’t even know what to say."

"Just say yes," he smiled, his hand reaching out to take hers. "Say yes, and let me be the guy who makes you happy every single day."

She laughed through her tears, overwhelmed with joy. "Yes," she said, nodding emphatically. "Of course, yes!"

Nicholas let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, and in an instant, he pulled her into his arms, wrapping her in a warm embrace. "You have no idea how happy you just made me," he murmured into her hair.

"I think I do," she teased, looking up at him with shining eyes. "Because I feel the same way. I’ve felt the same way for so long, but I never knew if you did."

Nicholas smiled, brushing a stray tear from her cheek. "I’m going to make sure you never doubt it again."

They stood there, holding each other, surrounded by the soft glow of the evening light, the rose petals dancing around them in the breeze. Everything about the moment felt perfect—like it had always been meant to happen this way.

As they pulled back slightly, Nicholas leaned down, his forehead resting against hers. "I’m so lucky," he whispered.

"We’re both lucky," she corrected, her hand gently resting on his chest. "I’ve always known it was you too."

They kissed then, softly, tenderly, the world around them disappearing as they lost themselves in each other, in this moment they had both waited for so long.

[yovrnewromantic]

CULT OF DIONYSUS

billy loomis x reader x stu macher

Let’s get mischievous and polyamorous!

Or in which Stu Macher really wants to fuck Billy Loomis’ girlfriend, and he doesn’t feel the same

warnings: talk of smut but no real smut. billy and stu lowkey hate each other.

Dipshit: guess whos alone w your gf😊

               meeee 😩🍆💦

Billy’s phone pings in his back pocket. Frustratedly, he maneuvers the bagged groceries in his hand. Reaching to grab his phone, he expects a text from you, asking him to grab something you had forgotten to put on the list or a needy i love you text.

Instead, he frowns at the message on his homescreen. The IMS shadow covers one of his faces on the stack of black and white polaroids of you and him on his wallpaper. Quickly, he slides his phone open, typing furiously. 

What the fuck do you mean

Dipshit: 🤷🏼‍♂️

Stu.

Dipshit: srry gtg busy

“Shit,” Billy hisses, forcing a hand through his hair. It was no secret that Stu wanted to fuck you. Stu had practically begged him to just let him watch him fuck you— in person or on video—and he got on his knees attempting to somehow sway Billy to let him cuck you. 

Yeah, not going to happen.

The drive to your shared apartment feels agonizingly slow, an unrelenting doom gnawing in the back of Billy's mind. His knuckles turn white from their tight hold of the steering wheel.

Tires skirt as he swerves into the parking lot, heart racing much more than he would like to admit when he takes the keys out of the admission, front wheels diagonal on the yellow lines they're meant to be inside of.

His pulse is in his ears when he reaches the door, hands clumsy for the keys before he realizes the door isn't even locked. The acknowledgment sends a new sense of dread down his spine because ever since Woodsboro, you listened to him, and you always locked the doors.

With half the mind to grab the knife that he buried it in the potted plant in the hall to castrate Stu-- if he was even there and didn't just want Billy to kill him in his sleep.

The door creaks open deathly slow. Billy's boots are loud against the wooden floors as he steps inside, listening intently. His eyes are frantic, dancing to any open space for your presence. He doesn't see you.

"Y/N?" he calls, his voice steady despite his panic.

It's quiet.

What position does he have you in now? Tied up and gagged so you can't make a sound as Stu pounds into you. Billy swallows his own bile, hardly convinced to continue his search downstairs before heading to your bedroom. If he can get to the kitchen, he can grab a butcher knife and go Michael Myers on that motherfucker.

"Boo!"

He's genuinely startled when he turns the corner into the kitchen, taking a step back and staring at your beaming form with wide eyes. Standing in front of him, perfectly clothed may he add, you cackle, your entire body shaking as you struggle to point a finger at him, too consumed with pure unaltered joy. "I--" you wheeze. "I scared you. Finally, I actually did it."

Despite the small part of him that's a teensy bit pissed (any other day he's punching a wall) that you finally got the best of him, Billy smiles, hands seizing your waist to pull you into his chest so he can hold you after the stress of a lifetime. Your fingers slide across the back of his neck, and it feels like a glimpse of heaven: having you, his girl, and his girl only in his arms, grinning ear to ear.

His fingers find your chin and he makes you look into his eyes. "You got lucky, babe."

While you divulge into another laughing feet, burying your face in his neck, Billy closes his eyes in bliss, savoring the moment as he hugs you. Your bodies fit together like perfect puzzle pieces. You're okay. You're safe. You're his. Billy opens his eyes, sighing quietly. And Stu is nowhere in sight--

What the fuck.

Elbows propped onto the granite island; Stu is smirking like a dead man.

Arms locked around you, Billy stiffens. You pull back, and to your boyfriend's displeasure, out of his arms.

The kitchen is covered in white flour like winter had come early and a blizzard swept inside your windows. Stu's sweater is coated in the flour as well and now that he thinks of it, he can see the powder on your cheek.

"We tried to make cookies," you explain joyously, taking a half-glance between him and Stu. The latter saunters towards you and Billy smugly. "Stu's not very patient."

"Not at all," he purrs, throwing an arm over your shoulder at tugging you into him. You laugh, oblivious to the heated exchange that was happening just above your head.

Billy was going to kill Stu if he kept looking at you like that, his eyes flickering between Billy and peeping down your shirt. Goodbye to their sequel.

You break him from his reverie. "Billy, baby, where's the groceries?"

"Yeah, man. Where are they?" Stu tilts his head.

"In the car," he deadpans although he forgot about them in the first place, abandoning them accidentally. He grabs your wrist, tugging you away from Stu's grip, fuming. "Let's go get them."

THIS IS SO BAD. will def rewrite but seeing this in my drafts was giving me a headache

[yuikomorii]

Ayato: Idol AU Headcanons

// Since you guys enjoyed my DL K-pop AU posts, I decided to write some HCs about Ayato, because he was the most talked about. In this AU, the Sakamakis aren’t actual brothers, nor are they vampires; the group’s concept is just the one of a vampire family. Some details here are based on true things about Ayato but have been slightly tweaked to better fit the idol AU. Hope you enjoy! ❤️

He was once a basketball player and even served as the captain of his team. His dedication to the sport often led him to compete in numerous tournaments, causing him to skip many classes.

Ayato was scouted for his visuals. The CEO of REJET LABELS noticed his youthful yet refined features while Ayato was casually walking home from high school.

A former classmate confirmed Ayato’s popularity at school. She also mentioned that people would randomly take pictures of him on the street, and a bunch of his photos are used on Pinterest for inspiration.

Even before starting his trainee period, Ayato was already quite good in both slow and freestyle dancing. After beginning his training, he discovered his rapping abilities.

As a trainee, the first person Ayato befriended was Laito, who remained his closest companion even after debuting. The two are often spotted hanging out together.

Ayato hates doing aegyo. However, during a special episode of the variety show MUKBROS, Kou dared him to sing and dance to a cute song. The performance went extremely viral, skyrocketing his popularity. Despite this success, Ayato has admitted that the experience still gives him PTSD.

Ayato is in high demand for brand deals and appears to be everywhere. Rumor has it he’s poised to become the next Chanel ambassador. Unfortunately, this has led some solo fans of other members to accuse him of favoritism, casting him in a negative light.

He is the first member of the SAKAMAKIS to appear in Vogue, where he was officially recognized as the "IT boy."

He was ranked 1st in top 100 most beautiful faces (male version); one of the reasons why he gained the “Visual God” title within the idol community.

His best known controversy involves plastic surgery. Netizens noticed changes in Ayato’s nose and jaw when comparing his pre-debut photos and videos to his current appearance. A bunch of Dialovers took his side, attributing the changes to puberty, yet others strongly disagreed, spreading hate by making posts about him looking “botched.”

Last year, he partnered with soloist Cardia as a MC. This experience had a mixed impact on Ayato’s image. While some criticized him for occasionally forgetting his lines or laughing and posing in front of the camera while Cardia consistently gave her all, others came to his defense. Many fans and non-fans argued that the criticism was too harsh, pointing out that Ayato was never intended to be the spokesperson of his group, but Reiji. They also emphasized that it was unfair to compare someone with no prior experience to someone used to give speeches.

When asked who he considers the best-looking person he knows, he confidently answered, while giggling, "myself." Shu then posed the same question but added a rule: he couldn’t choose himself again. In response, Ayato admitted that Cardia is a close second.

Despite this, the biggest dating rumor surrounding Ayato involved a possible relationship with the daughter of one of the staff members. Diapatch spotted Ayato with a blonde girl at a private event, and sasaengs later reported seeing them holding hands late at night. Whether they are actually dating remains unclear, but the rumors enraged many of Ayato’s solo stans. Some were so upset that they filmed themselves destroying his PCs and degrading the girl online.

The hate train quickly faded, especially after Ayato's successful solo debut. His fancams went viral, with his styling making him truly resemble a Vampire Prince. This reminded netizens of his iconic performance on MUKBROS, leaving them stunned by his duality. On top of that, his noticeable improvement silenced critics who had dismissed him as "just a visual."

When asked which idol he’d like to get to know better, he mentioned soloist KINO from the same company. A few months later, KINO invited him to his limited-edition web show, where they had the chance to interact, play games and even filmed a TikTok together afterward.

It’s rumored that not only REJET LABELS, but also other companies pressure idols into plastic surgery to resemble Ayato. This theory gained credibility when Zen from Un: Birthday Song looked different in middle school but began resembling Ayato after becoming a trainee, securing his debut spot in a reality competition.

People who have seen Ayato describe him as having an arrogant and bold presence on stage, perfectly fitting his vampire idol persona. However, off-stage, he’s known to be kind to his fans and happy to engage in casual conversations. Recently, a Dialover shared their experience meeting Ayato, saying, “In MVs and concerts he appears untouchable, but in real life, you realize he’s just a normal handsome boy.”

He is frequently described as the ideal type in street interviews, admired for his stunning looks, hardworking nature, and confident personality. Moreover, many trainees have cited him as their role model.

[samuel-de-champagne-problems]

hi hi ɢᴏᴏᴅ ᴍᴏʀɴɪɴɢ ☀︎︎

Can I request a lil ficlet please 🥹

I would like the following prompt: Cuddling before falling asleep in your arms with their lips parted so you give them a peck

But but can I add secret relationship trope and they’re in the BAU jet?

PS: your fics are just amazing and I love them.

Cuddles and Cameras - Spencer Reid x GN Reader (Fluff w Fade to Black)

Spencer practically dragged me across the threshold to the hotel room. His hand, ready to hold me, reached out into the dark hotel room. I flipped up the light and was pushed up against the wall before I could even kick off my shoes.

"Ooof! Spence!" I shouted, my voice soon muffled by Spencer's lips.

"Sorry, baby..." Kiss on the lips Kiss on bottom lip. Kiss on the top. Kiss on the lips. "I couldn't help myself. It's hard for me to have to stay on good behavior."

I chuckled, my hands reaching up to tug Spencer's hair. He smiled, letting me kiss his neck and down to his collarbone. I grinned as I kissed Spencer. His skin was practically shivering from holding himself back.

"Yeah? I didn't think that I was tempting."

Spencer rolled his eyes, his mouth hovering above my in an upturn smirk. His eyes danced with playfulness as he watched me.

"You have no idea how hard it's to keep us a secret." He whispers. I licked my lips and felt the ghost of Spencer's lips against mine. I was tired of clinging to this small, secret, hidden touches. I wanted him in daylight, not under the covers.

Spencer tugged down my windbreaker, leaving me in the stiff work clothes. "I am putting on PJs right away." I announced.

"It's fine, sweetheart. I wasn't planning on letting you be dressed for much longer."

"Sex then room service?"

Spencer knelt on the bad, grabbing me by the waist. He took my cheeks into his palms and brought me so close. His skin was fire against my cheeks. And then he kissed me.

Kissing Spencer was like breathing. I needed it like I needed water. I drank him in, reeling in the way his mouth molded to mine. Against me, Spencer was liquid heat, quick and malleable.

We stopped, Spencer catching his breath and me slowing the pounding of my heart.

"Perfect." I whispered, kissing Spencer again and pushing him down onto the bed. I wasn't sure if I took off his shirt first or if he took my off my pants. It didn't matter who peel away the first item of clothing, I had never bared my soul more than to anyone besides him. Never stood more naked than I did with my clothes on than I did with Spencer Reid.

After that night in the hotel it seemed like something between us shifted. For a while now, we danced in that limbo. I knew that I loved Spencer. And Spencer knew that he loved me. And we both knew what the other knew.

Yet, I had to contain myself as we sat next to each other on the jet. Spencer had already started and finished two books. I, on the other hand, did not finish anyway near two books. I couldn't even read a single sentence without my mind wondering.

And I knew Spencer well enough to understand that he probably felt similar. Two books in about 4 hours is akin to my measly half a paragraph in Spencer's eyes.

"They're sleeping." Spencer said. He didn't look up from his book. "Hotch is facing the same way as us. He can't see us. And even if he did....I don't care."

I don't care.

God. How I wished to have heard that for the last couple of months? Instantly, I folded myself into Spencer. He sat with his legs out stretched straight on the jet seats. I laid between his legs with my side cushioned against his front. Spencer laid the blanket on top of us and when his arms wrapped around my torso, I melted.

As good as he was a sex, Spencer was between during the moments after. He was incredibly sweet. We both hated the mess that came with it so nearly nine months into our relationship we had our after routine completely memorized.

"This is nice." Spencer whispered. He breathed my scent; between staying at each other's places a couple days a week each we started just use each other's products.

"It is."

He kissed the top of my head. "Go to sleep."

"You, too." I countered. "Don't let me make your leg numb." I requested, shifting so I wouldn't hurt him.

"It's fine, babe. Just move up, I want to be able to see your face anyway."

I scooted up, shifting so Spencer and I were face to face. We were so close that I could feel the shadow of his smile. I eclipsed it with my own. He kissed my forehead and I, in moment of sleepless delusion leaned further and kissed him. It wasn't a polite kiss. It was the sort of kiss that is hidden in hotel rooms, shelved away from nosy coworkers and professional regulations. It was the kind of kiss that made me see the world in full color.

How would I go back to black and white. If I had to choose, then I would choose Spencer, hidden, but in Technicolor.

We must've fallen asleep soon after because the next thing I remember was blinding white flash. My eyes were shut, but the flash of white was enough to pull me from a sleep. Spencer's arms didn't release me so he was still sleeping.

"Morgan...?" I croaked. The image before me cleared up. Derek Morgan's white smile beamed. He practically was flashing me and Spencer's cuddled forms his dazzling pearly whites.

"Penny G!" His voiced sounded positively delighted. I sat up and realized that the flash of white was an old crime scene camera. Why that was still included in our packs when the Bureau went digital two years go, was beyond my job role.

"Did you take a picture of us!?" I shrieked, breaking free of Spencer's grip and leaping from the seats. "Derek! Is that the picture! Derek!" Spencer must've woken up somewhere in between me screaming and shouting.

The rest of the team, notably our boss, Hotch's head snapped up.

"Morgan! Y/L/N!"

"It's okay." Spencer's hand rested on my shoulder.

We backed down, hearing the stunning level of "dad" in Hotch's voice. Morgan dropped the picture against my lap. It was one of the photographs that you could see the image almost right away. Slowly, an image of Spencer and I appeared, sleeping and intertwined. Our faces were so close that our lips nearly touched.

Emily and JJ exchanged glances that said more than words could ever. Morgan's eyes shifted from mine to Spencer's as he figured that this wasn't the first time we had feel asleep like this.

"You two. My office, but Monday. I'm too tired to deal with this, even though we all knew." Hotch explained. He shut his computer, decidedly finished with work for the day. His eyes closed as he got as comfortable as one could still wearing a suit and tie.

"Penelope is going to be heartbroken." JJ said, loud enough for the entire jet to hear. I felt my heart drop into the pit of my stomach. Spencer and I didn't similar like a weird notation. There wasn't a time in my life that felt more right and I felt more like myself than the time I've been with Spencer.

"JJ-" Spencer started. Derek's eyebrows narrowed and even Hotch opened a single eye. Emily practically backed away. Clearly the entire team was Team Us. Spencer's thumb brushed against my lower back.

"She's not gonna know whose side of the weeding ceremony to sit on."

[natailiatulls07]

Lewis Hamilton x wife!reader

Summary - Even in the busiest of moments, Lewis and his wife can find tranquillity with each other

A/n - In honour of a British win at the British grand prix!! <3

-

The sun shone bright into our hotel room, I can feel the gentle beating of Lewis' heart underneath my ear. My eyes glanced over to the clock on the wall - it's 07.30am. His alarm will go off soon and disturb the tranquillity of the bedroom.

Like clock work, the provoking sound starts to ring from Lewis' phone and I feel his grumble from his rest. I look up gentle, our sleepy eyes meeting as a small giggle escapes my lips.

'Morning gorgeous..' I whisper softly, my hand reaching out to shut off his alarm - Luckily he doesn't need more than one to wake up.

Once again a sense of serenity falls over us again. 'We have to get up soon, race day is today' I annouce, even though I know that Lewis already knows this.

His lips forms a small pout. 'How about we stay here instead, yeah?' And then I feel him pull me closer to himself, his beard tickling me as our lips connect in a sleepy kiss. Pulling away I shake my head, laughing faintly.

'It's not just any race Lewis, it's your home race and plus you're on the front row...' I pause for a second, emphasizing my sentence a little bit. 'Even though I would love to stay here..' A smile dancing on my lips. We spend the next couple of minutes lovingly spending our last minutes of peace before a chaotic day in Silverstone.

-

Watching the roads and countrysides flow by as we drive to the track. On the window I can see little droplets, all falling down from the grey clouds in the sky.

'I feel bad for the fans..' I mutter absent-minded, turning to glance over at Lewis. 'Must be horrible camping out there.' He knows that I feel genuinely bad for the fans, something I had done multiple times growing up. His thumb, which is settled on my thigh, rubs softly in a silent sort of agreement.

'We'll bring them an exciting race to make up for it..' He reassures, feeling the same sympathy as I did. Neither of us came from silver spoon families but we worked our ways up to where we are now.

It's not before we start to pass excited fans, all of the dressed in various teams and drivers merchandise. Lewis slows the car down to wave and say hi to them, rolling down the window to take selfies with some. As I watch them patiently, I hear a knock on my own window.

This surprises me slightly but nonetheless I roll down my window as well. It's a few girl, all looking around their early twenties. 'Hi girls' I greet them politely, they all have enthusiastic smiles on their faces.

'Hi, we just wanted to say that we love you alot! We love all your work so much!' One of excitedly tells me, practically vibrating animatedly. I just laugh, my heart warming.

Another pulls out her phone, hands shakily opening her camera app. 'Can we have a selfie p-please?' She asked, a shy tone to her voice. I nod quickly, shift slightly towards the window. In the process Lewis' hand falls from my thigh to the seat, promoting him to look at me concern which I send him a comforting smile in return.

After we both snap a few selfies with fans, we continue our journey in the track. 'Those girls were happy to see you..' He laughs endearingly, his hand back on my thigh again.

'I know right, wasn't expecting it really. Was nice though..' I look over at him a wholesome smile. 'They always floak to you gorgeous, rightfully so.'

He brings his eyes away from the road for a second to meet my gaze, a frown tugging at his lips. 'Darling, you're just as successful as me..' Even after several years of marriage and several years of dating on top of that, I still get butterflies from him sometimes. 'Remind me again how many best sellings and how many mentions in the new york times you have gotten?'

I feel warmth fill my cheeks as I expect they're rosy red by now. Some how he always manages to make me feel shy and like a school girl with a crush. 'Lewis, I hate when you do this to me..' I mumble, a small smile on my lips.

He knows that I struggle to recognize my successfulness and every day he makes it his mission to remind me off it and how proud he is of me.

'Now can you understand why they wanted to see you and not me?' I nod shyly, watching the smirk on his face. 'Good..'

-

Sat in his drivers room, I sit on the sofa watching as Lewis readys himself for the race. His face is concentrated and focused as he pulls on his racing boots. In the background, his playlist is on repeat hyping him up.

I look down at my phone, checking the time and noticing a text from Lewis' mum.

Carmen: In the garage now, saved you a seat and some headphone sweetheart. How is he? xx

Whenever I would attend a race and so would Carmen, we'd always sit with eachother. She has been great to me, ever since I first met her. So I make sure to send her a quick reply before slotting my phone into my handbag.

Y/n: Thank you! All good up here, he's just get focused and ready now xx

It's not long before Lewis stands from the sofa, holding out a hand for me so that we could make our way to the garage. We both wave to fans along the way.

Once we arrive at the garage I step aside, letting him talk to his parents, the engineers, Bono and Toto. My eyes follow him before he start to come back to me. Wrapping my arms around his neck, his own wrapping around my hips.

I look up at him, my hand moving some of his hair from his face. 'You'll smash it out of the park, I know it..' I whisper, laying my head on his shoulder as I feel him gently caress my back.

Even when we both know there's people watching, we have that moment of peace between us. Some peace that Lewis always swears he needs before a race. 'Good luck, I love you..' And with a parting kiss, he is off for the national anthem as I move to my seat beside Carmen.

-

Watching an race was tense, but today had been even more anxiety inducing. My leg was continuously bouncing with every lap that counted down.

In the garage, everyone stands as we watch Lewis cross the line as the 2024 British grand prix winner on the television. I let out an excited cry, heart thumping and hands shaking.

Through the radio, we hear Bono talk to Lewis - 'Get in there Lewis! You're the man!' And then I hear his sigh of absolute relief; After so many races without a race winner, I know first hand how hard it has been for Lewis.

'Thank you so much guys! It means a lot..' His voice breaks. 'It means a lot to get this one, a big thank you to all the fans here! I love you guys!' I can hear all the emotions running through him, how much this race means to him.

When I hear Toto voice comes through the radio, I'm made aware of the tears flowing down my cheeks. Turning to Carmen to see her big smile, her eyes noticing my glisting cheeks as she pulls me into a hugs.

'He did it sweetheart! He did it!' I hear her whisper in my ear, she's just as proud of him as I am.

We don't get a chance to watch him drive around the track with the union jack as both Toto and Bono pulls us away to join everyone rushing towards Parc Ferme, make room for us to stand at the front of barriers.

The Mercedes car pulls into the first place spot and Lewis doesn't get out, and I know exactly why. He's taking these few moments to take it in.

After a few couples, the team and I watch as he jumps out celebrating before running over to us. His arms immediately moving to wrap around me and pulling me gently over the barrier. My own arms shakily wrapping around his neck.

I look up and through his helmet to see his beautiful brown eyes dripping with tears, matching my own. 'You did! I told you so! I love you so much!' I cry out.

His arms wrap around my waist even tight as he pulls me into a deep embrace. 'I did it! I- I love you so much...' There's a pause, it's only brief though. 'Thank you for everything you did! Thank you for being an amazing equal to me in marriage, I love you always and forever..' I hear him whisper, something I can only hear.

That's the beauty of our relationship. We had our own private moments, even in front of millions we could have a moment of privacy like this morning or before the race. It was what we built our relationship on, something we continue to do all the time.

-