#just as wedge comes up and sets a hand on her arm

[empressofthelibrary]

"#amazing tags #i think she'd know bail was dead though"

Gonna be honest, for a moment I was so caught up in the humor of the scene, I forgot Bail and Alderaan exploded

feel like none of the older members of the rebellion figured out who Luke was till after the battle of Yavin btw. like beforehand they were very pushed for time and would just have been like this new kid seems nice and Leia's vouching for him, Luke something?? we need bodies urgently after everything that happened at Scarif

then afterwards Dodona or someone would be like where's that new kid i want to shake him by the hand. hey well done new kid. what was your name again?

shortly thereafter calling a meeting of various rebellion higher ups like ok sound off does anyone know if Anakin Skywalker had a secret kid? or like any siblings? any known relatives? I'm not fucking around this is is not a drill we have another Skywalker repeat we have a Skywalker

[chadleys]

moon sick. | astarion

›› pairing: astarion x f!reader

›› wordcount: 2.5k

›› genre: smut, established relationship

›› rating: 18+, mdni

›› synopsis: whilst on the road, you get your period. astarion, being the loving, caring, supportive boyfriend he is, offers to help. he has no ulterior motives. obviously.

›› warnings: period sex, bloodplay, unprotected sex, oral sex, dirty talk

you wake with a start, astarion’s cold arm a comforting weight across your waist. you can’t think what could have possibly woken you up so suddenly, as you listen for any untoward noises around camp. but there’s only astarion’s steady, gentle breathing behind you and gale’s obnoxious snoring echoing from the other end of the clearing.

as you settle back down on your bedroll, however, you become aware of something sticky and wet between your legs. could be that a wet dream concerning your beloved has you in such a state, but you don’t remember dreaming of him last night. no, now that your senses are returning to you, you remember that last night was reserved for another visit from your so-called guardian. so what … ?

you toss your end of the blanket aside and groan, throwing your head back against the pack you’ve set out for a makeshift pillow. doing so earns you another yelp; must have made contact with one of the stems of the many apples wedged into your supply bag.

astarion is on his feet in an instant, startling you; you weren’t even aware he was awake. not that elves ever truly sleep. it always slightly unnerves you to feel him levitating beside you in his meditative state. ❝ you’re hurt. ❞ his voice is rough, thick with inertia. ❝ i swear i’ll find whoever did this and bleed them dry. we should never have trusted that damned cleric; shar this and shar that. i’ll shove her blessed shar right up her — ❞

he’s already kicking his own pack aside to stomp his way out of the tent when you hiss, ❝ astarion! ❞

luckily he’s not too aggravated to stop and give you a glance back so you can explain in a low murmur, ❝ it’s my cycle … ❞

astarion stops short, one pale hand clutched to his chest. ❝ oh … i — ❞ he waves that same hand now toward the opening of his tent. ❝ i thought … ❞

❝ i know what you thought, ❞ you sigh, more weary knowing what’s to come over the next 7 days than you are of him, than you could ever be of him. ❝ but it’s not. so just come back to bed. please? ❞

❝ i thought you’d never ask … ❞ he purrs, back to his normal self.

unfortunately, you’re doubled over in pain before he’s even halfway back.

❝ i knew you were in pain. ❞ astarion’s back at your side in a flash. ❝ just tell me who and i’ll — ❞

❝ i am, ❞ you gasp, ❝ in pain. but … not because anyone hurt me. well, more like mother nature cursed me. ❞

a particularly bad cramp seizes you and your hand flies out, clutching the front of astarion’s silky tunic. you press your fingers in to feel his cold, broad chest. the sensation calms you a bit … until yet another bout of pain rolls through your midsection.

icy fingers find yours, ghosting over your knuckles. ❝ shall i … see if the druid can make you something? ❞

you shake your head, tugging at his shirt. ❝ just lay with me. please. ❞

astarion’s skin is blessedly cool against yours, as it always is. you lean into him, pressing your face against his frigid neck, soothing your burning cheeks.

his glacial hands find the edge of your tunic, and then the small of your back, which helps more than he could possibly know. you shudder against him, pushing, trying to get more of him.

❝ you know … ❞ astarion sniffs, delicate voice very close to your ear. ❝ i have heard of one thing that is guaranteed to relieve moon sickness. ❞

pulling back, you glance curiously up at him.

he has that rakish grin on his face that you’ve come to know all too well in the past weeks. his reddened eyes roll away from you. ❝ come now, pup. you must know what i mean … sex. ❞ your heart jumps into your throat at the thought; you’re sure astarion can feel it beating harder against his own chest.

suddenly, his mouth is just under your ear, teeth rasping against the exact place he’s fed from you dozens of times before. ❝ i can smell it, my love. ❞

you don’t answer immediately; while you can’t deny the thought appeals to you, if for no other reason than to rid yourself of these damnable cramps, you’re also apprehensive. astarion feeding from your neck is one thing — still intimate, but relatively normal by vampire standards. to have astarion feed down there, on that blood, feeding from your womb …

❝ you’re right, it’s a bad idea, absolutely disgusting. i don’t know why i — ❞

❝ do it. ❞

❝ eh … hm? ❞

❝ do it, ❞ you repeat, grasping onto him for dear life as another squeezing, crushing shock of pain settles in your stomach. ❝ please, astarion. i can’t take it anymore. ❞

it’s been many moons since your cycle has been this bad. traveling on the road without proper food or rest may finally be catching up to you, exacerbating things. not much you can do about that until you reach the city, though.

other than letting your vampire lover drink your blood, of course.

laying you gently back without another complaint, astarion slips the blanket off of you and reaches to undo your breeches.

anxiety overtakes you; there’s already blood on your trousers and the blanket, you’re going to have to wash them in the river as soon as you’re able. you can’t even imagine the scene underneath your pants … but you’re about to find out.

gently, astarion prizes the trousers from your legs, then gasps softly. ❝ oh, my love … ❞

prying your eyes from the ceiling of the tent, you finally look down. astarion is there, of course, looking lovely as always. except, however, the lines on his face look deeper, almost carved, and the dark circles under his eyes are darker, his eyes redder.

another spell of panic grips you; bright red blood is smeared across your inner thighs.

astarion looks dizzy as he takes you in, cold hands cradling the outsides of your legs. you’re about to apologize and shove him away, tell him this is a mistake, in fact you will ask halsin to make you something — and that’s when astarion mutters, ❝ you are exquisite, ❞ and dives in to have his first taste.

the feeling of his tongue on your thighs makes you shiver, and the cool night air wafting in from the tent flap isn’t helping. you grab the clean end of the blanket and drape your upper half, canting your hips up to tell astarion what it is you truly want.

because even through all the anxiety, there’s also a bubble of arousal blooming between your legs. astarion can’t tell, of course, not through all the blood down there, but you sure as hell can. you have the most perfect creature you’ve ever set eyes on between your legs; how could you not be aroused?

❝ all in due time, ❞ astarion chuckles, voice muffled against your thighs as he continues to clean you up. thoroughly. too thoroughly.

❝ you always tease, ❞ you whine, knocking one of your knees against his ribcage.

this time when his gaze flashes sharply to you, his eyes are the reddest you’ve ever seen them. it makes you shake.

astarion’s nails dig into your hips, deliciously, wickedly. you tremble, reaching for him. he chuckles and kisses the inside of one of your wrists, which leaves a smear of blood. ❝ always such a needy little pup for me, aren’t you? ❞

you don’t even have time to nod before he dives back in, his mouth exactly where you want it this time. his lips suction around your clit, tongue lapping out lower down to scoop a sizeable pearl of blood into his mouth.

this time, astarion is the one who shakes. he lays his cheek against your still-bloody thigh and shudders. ❝ you’re going to be the death of me, ❞ he sighs, and you can see him skirting his tongue around his mouth, flitting over his lips, savoring you.

you huff. ❝ you’ll be of me, too, if you don’t keep going. ❞

❝ so pushy, ❞ your lover mutters, but there’s absolutely no heat in his words as he obeys your command and buries his face back into your blood-soaked cunt.

for a while you just lie back and enjoy yourself, and let astarion enjoy himself as well. his arms are strong around your legs, holding you in place so you can’t squirm away. it feels way too damn good, you may have been tempted to try. but as it is, you can’t do anything but revel in the silky feeling of astarion’s tongue lapping up everything you have to give him, his fangs catching every so often on your clit, making you see stars.

at some point, you glance down at him and gasp. ❝ your shirt! ❞

you know how much he prides himself on his physical appearance, and now there’s blood staining the front ruffles of his normally immaculate tunic.

he glances down and tuts, frowning. ❝ oh well. it’ll have to go with the rest. ❞ just like that, he rips it off and tosses it with your soiled trousers.

he must be in heaven, you suspect, if he’s willing to discard his cherished clothing for you.

now shirtless, astarion gives one last gentle kiss to your clit and then slowly starts to climb your body. there’s blood dripping from his chin, staining the rest of the blanket wrapped around you. but more importantly, his broad chest is skating up the expanse of your bloody cunt as he comes, and your clit throbs seeing all that red coating his torso.

❝ astarion! ❞ you gasp, and he grins, mouth full of your blood.

❝ i’m loathe to ask you for a kiss, ❞ he whispers, so low you can barely hear him. ❝ just one. i promise. ❞

you swallow thickly, and he waits for you to lean up, pressing your lips to his in the softest kiss you can manage. blood squishes between you, and you can feel it coating your lips as you lie back down.

one lap of your tongue against your bottom lip and you grimace, spitting and rubbing at your mouth with the back of one hand.

astarion laughs heartily as you mutter, ❝ ugh, not for me. ❞

❝ more for me, ❞ astarion says, almost gleefully.

he’s obviously preparing to get back to it, but you keep him close with your hands on his shoulders. ❝ i want you. ❞

brows furrowed, astarion squeezes your waist. ❝ darling, you have me. ❞

❝ inside, ❞ you beg quietly, which you know enjoys immensely.

your next step might be a mistake, but you decide to chance it. bracing yourself with your legs wrapped around him, you thrust up, dragging your wetness along the front of his trousers. you can feel that he’s hard, and now there’s blood all over his pants. you’re hoping he won’t mind, considering his tunic is already ruined for the night as well.

luckily he doesn’t seem to, dark gaze sweeping down over the two of you covered in your blood, and then back up. ❝ i thought you’d never ask. ❞

his trousers quickly follow his tunic, erection jutting up between your legs.

❝ he looks happy, ❞ you giggle, as his swollen head prods at your blood-soaked entrance.

❝ to see you? always. ❞

having astarion inside of you is normally a relief, a release of all the rampant, pent up emotions this journey has bestowed upon you.

tonight is different.

with all that blood flowing south, your womb is aching, you're sore and swollen as astarion’s cock spears through your lips. every thrust sends a fresh flow of blood down his shaft, which earns you a tight growl from the vampire as he takes the backs of your knees in hand and shoves your thighs back toward your chest, eager to get even deeper inside of you.

and you’re eager to have him, nails digging into his chiseled back, the hard marble of his jaw knocking against your shoulder as his lips, slick with blood, find your ear again. ❝ are you feeling better, pet? does my cock soothe that ache inside of you? the ache that raged inside of you, until you met me? until i filled you up in every lovely way possible? ❞

his words make your brain go haywire, knees shaking around his ribcage, toes curling, your mouth rubbing comfortingly at his cool shoulder.

more than that, you do feel better. the more aroused you become, the more blood flows out of you, the less painful your cramps become. until you’re pushing down against him, trying to ride him at the same time as he’s shoving himself inside of you with reckless abandon. until you can’t remember why you started this in the first place, other than to wind up begging for him to finish inside of you.

❝ inside. please, astarion, inside … ❞ it’s hard to even think clearly enough to form words, your mind consumed with the sight of his beautiful body moving atop yours.

you assume he’ll make you beg, as he so often does; he loves hearing the desperate, pleading tone in your voice that tells him all he needs to know — you belong to him.

but he doesn’t. he fucks into you as hard as he ever has, his thick cock gliding against your engorged walls, making your eyes roll back.

and then the talking starts. the words that make you wish you knew whether or not vampires can actually have children. ❝ you want me to get you pregnant, love? want your belly to swell with my child inside of it? i will wait on you hand and foot, i promise. i would love seeing you walk around knowing you hold my heir, that you protected my seed so well that it grew into a child inside of you. ❞ astarion pauses momentarily to laugh, tugging your earlobe between his teeth. ❝ with all this blood, i know you must be fertile. ❞

both of you share a laugh, briefly.

and when you cum, together, he sinks his teeth into your neck with nothing but a quiet grunt, cockhead twitching and spurting inside of you.

you mewl softly, feeling the vampire trembling and shaking as he empties himself into you. your hands pet through his hair, soothe the back of his neck, across the scars circling his back.

the pain from before is nowhere to be found, replaced instead by a warm, fizzy feeling sitting low in your gut. astarion is bracing himself on his elbows above you, with obvious effort.

you pull him down to lay atop you; he’s not exceptionally heavy anyway.

❝ i love you, ❞ he sighs, nestling his face, chin still slick with blood, against your collarbone. ❝ and … promise me we can do that again. ❞

❝ i love you. and i promise. ❞

[luveline]

could you please write something where maybe bombshell!reader hears one of the team members teasing about how she’s torturing spencer and she kinda backs off with the flirting and maybe it’s his turn to hold her hand and call her cute names because even though he always says he doesn’t mind, maybe he does and he just doesn’t want to tell her

tysm for requesting, 1k

Spencer's hair is brown silk in the sun. You bite your tongue to hold in a compliment rearing to come out, saccharine and completely true. Looking sweet, Spence. 

You love to compliment him and especially while Hotch is out of earshot. He and Derek play pairs against two agents from a different unit, their tennis racquets a shiny FBI navy. You start to speak and bite it back —a memory flashes, a shouting stop sign. 

You'd been teasing Spencer as he left the room, something about his indecisive hair. He's cut it shorter but left his curls without product, and you love it. 

Poor guy, Emily'd murmured, lips set against the rim of her coffee cup. 

What's the matter with him? you asked, perplexed. 

Nothing, just that he spins into a total meltdown every time you guys are within ten feet of each other. He must be exhausted.

She was joking and you know that, but something deep down worries she's right. It's not fair for you to keep winding him up… Especially when Spencer might be going along with you because he isn't sure how to say no. 

What if you're forcing yourself on him? 

You're sitting together on a small blanket in the grass with Anderson and a few of the other less competitive BAU agents. You bring your bottled iced tea to your forehead to cool down, condensation wetting your hot skin. The top of your head feels as though it has the full concentration of the sun beating against it. 

Spencer looks up at your movement. He's been reading a book for pleasure, or so he says, so he isn't going a mile a minute but he's still way faster than the average Joe. "Do you want to go find some shade?" he asks. 

"You look comfortable," you say, putting your iced tea aside.

Which is to say, I don't want you to come with me, it would disrupt you. Spencer nods and turns to the brown leather of his familiar satchel, popping the buckle open to dig around inside. 

"Do you think this would be okay?" he asks, bringing out his baseball cap. 

The fabric is starchy and the brim stiff as you accept it and wedge it over your head. You don't immediately cool, but your heart spins strange loops. "Thank you," you say. Thank you, handsome, gorgeous, baby, all beg to be said. 

Spencer stays looking at you for longer than normal. 

"Do I have something on my face?" you ask, swatting self consciously at your cheeks. 

"Nothing. You look really pretty," he says. 

"Thank you." Another loop. You point at his book, fingertip hitting a creamy page with a small thud. "Is this any good?" 

"I think you'd really like it, it feels like that last book I borrowed from you, and you loved that. They're very similar. I can lend it to you when I'm done." 

"Don't rush it for my sake."

Spencer gives you a private smile. "I won't. Just because you could watch a movie at two times speed doesn't mean you should." 

Your returning smile isn't half as nice. No shared lightness, no bright eyes. You're feeling awkward and unhappy —you really like Spencer. Like, you think you could be happy together for a long long time sort of like. He's charming and sweet and no one is ever as kind to him as he deserves, which is why you're trying to be kind now by putting distance between you.

You'll be brash forever. You can't change that, and Spencer doesn't need the stress of dealing with you, not on top of everything else. 

His smile fades as yours does. Quiet, without fuss, he scoots back on the picnic blanket, putting you knee to knee. The subtle muscle of his arm presses to yours and his hand wraps gently around your wrist as he dips his head down, his cheek touching briefly to your shoulder. 

"I know it's nice, but if the heat is getting to you we should go inside," he says, his fingers sliding across your palm to slot between your own. He squeezes your hand. "Heat stroke isn't obvious at first. Do you feel woozy?"

You stare at your twined fingers. He surprises you again, being this soft with you, and being uncharacteristically forward. Or maybe not uncharacteristic at all; Spencer won't let something like timidity stop him from comforting someone that needs it. 

"Spence," you murmur, closing your eyes, face angled down. 

"What?" 

"I'm sorry if I… If I've been messing you around. But I don't think this is a good idea." 

"What's not a good idea?" 

You can't make yourself say it. Instead, you rub the back of his hand, more for your own comfort than his, your tongue like a useless lump in your mouth. 

"You're sorry? Are you sure you're okay?" Spencer asks, no heed to the people sitting with you as he lets go of your hand to put his arm behind your shoulder like a shield. 

"I don't want to torture you," you say. 

Your friends love that word. You torture Spencer with your flirting and your easy affection. 

Spencer makes a face, eyes squinting and nose wrinkled. "They're just kidding when they say that. Emily, Morgan, they like making fun of me, it's like, sibling bonding or something. They don't say it because there's actually something to feel sorry about." He lowers his voice, bashful but sincere at once, "If you're torturing me, I guess I'm a masochist." 

You laugh without thinking, a breathless, girlish sound you'd regret if you had the wherewithal. "You're a masochist?" you ask. 

He takes the brim of your borrowed hat and pushes it up to unobstruct the view of your eyes. 

"If that's what it takes," he says. A hint of wryness creeps into his otherwise smooth tone. 

Despite his brave talk and his steady eye contact, his face has started to blush. A rosy hue kisses the tops of his cheeks and his nose, a dusting of pink splodges stark against his paleness. The curve of his lips seems extra tantalising now. He's very, very pretty. 

And he doesn't mind stepping in to take the reins when you're unsure of things. 

"We really should sit in the shade for a bit," he says. "Let's get drinks from the gazebo. Yeah?" 

You're halfway through a nod when he kisses your cheek too quickly for you to respond. You follow him to the gazebo without any more reluctance, weaselling your hand back into his, and attempt to pull another kiss from him.

[wileys-russo]

the summer tenant (1) II j.hermoso

its missing jenni hours, little mini series incoming the summer tenant (1) II j.hermoso

"sí sí sí i am forever in your debt león. happy?" you laughed, phone wedged between your ear and shoulder as you weighed your carry on, breathing a sigh of relief when it didn't breach the limit for your flight.

"i will be happy when you finally come home!" your best friend whined making you roll your eyes. "my ass is on its way maría, and tu culo better pick me up later!" you warned, muting her for a moment as you stepped up to the front desk and gave your details, boarding pass printed and handed over.

"no i am not thanking you, i was getting my boarding pass. my stuff is all accounted for sí? it arrived safely?" you frowned in worry, this entire process having been anything but smooth.

"sí amiga, just like i told you yesterday and every other day you've asked everything is in boxes ready to be unpacked once you move, and there is just a few things and files and boxes still in storage at your old place in the garage." mapi promised as you exhaled, hovering by the security check knowing you'd need to hang up before going through, promising mapi to call her the moment you landed before ending the call.

you'd grown up in zaragoza, a few houses down from the dirty blonde you'd been practically attached to like a siamese twin almost your whole life. as you got older you'd moved to madrid to go to university, and then to barcelona for better career opportunities once you graduated.

though for the last three years you'd been living in portugal, a dream job when it arose far too tempting to pass as much as it hurt you to move away from your life, friends and family all still scattered around spain.

you of course returned home to visit but once you'd fallen in love the visits had been few and far between, your life becoming split in two as you had anchors tying you down in either country, admittedly maybe allowing the one in portugal a little too much influence.

which is why it hurt so much when that anchor was suddenly cut loose, almost drowning you in the aftermath of what you'd describe as your first real heartbreak.

so licking your wounds you found yourself with a choice, to stay and soldier through the tattered remains of your life in portugal or retreat back to spain with your tail between your legs and into the arms of the rest of your support circle.

the choice was one you probably made a little too fast once your best friend sweet talked the right people and popped up on her weekend off with a job offer and a plan, more than ready to drag you back home.

it hadn't been the easiest of processes, you'd given your two weeks in at your job which turned into four and then into six so you could adequately train your replacement and smoothly handover your client list.

right after the breakup mapi had convinced you to let her rent out your old place in barcelona for some extra income while you weren't sure how long you'd still be in portugal, your now ex quite the well respected lawyer meant you'd come off with much less than you deserved in assets after the split.

you were crashing with a coworker and slowly shipping your belongings home to meet you whenever you could finally leave all this mess behind you.

though really your old place was too large for just you and though you were returning home you wanted a fresh start which meant a new place, mapi offering for you to stay with her while you searched for the right one.

between her and her girlfriend they technically had an apartment each in the same building, though they spent majority of their time in ingrids which was set up best, mapi's used more as a storage locker which is why she was more than happy to let you stay there temporarily.

and with all sorts of tourists flocking to the warm beaches of barcelona for the summer it made sense that you wring out a little extra money from your old place before putting it on the market.

so now finally free from all that tied you to portugal bar a few friendships you suspected may eventually die out with the distance, and almost all of your belongings safely back in spain, it was time for you to join them.

"estás bromeando." you snickered in disbelief as you exited the terminal, spotting the sign and balloons right away and praying they weren't for you. but of course knowing your family, no such luck.

"i am suddenly wishing i lied about which flight i took." you called out with a shake of your head, a cheeky grin and a blur of tattoos and tan skin darting in front of you before a body was slamming you nearly to the ground.

"hola amiga." you exhaled happily, squeezing the footballer just as tightly as you gave her girlfriend a wave who was hanging back with a smile. "mejor amiga." mapi corrected, pulling away and sloppily kissing your cheek making you grimace and push her away.

"you drove all the way here to pick me up? i told you i could come see you on the weekend!" you laughed at your parents, knowing it was almost a four hour journey from your childhood home where they still lived to the airport they were stood in now.

"it has been many years we have prayed for this day hija, let us enjoy it." your mami smiled warmly as you hugged them both next, exhaling happily at the rapid spanish which floated around the air.

you greeted ingrid next, having met the girl many times despite no longer living here, often teasing your best friend that should they break up you'd actually take ingrids side since she was so lovely, but really you adored seeing her so loved up and well treated by the norweigan.

"welcome home from prison? maría!" you groaned, the defender hiding behind her girlfriend making both yours and ingrids eyes roll. "it was his idea!" her finger reached around and pointed to your papi who shrugged with a smile that said it all.

~

"and you told her i was coming to grab some things?" you clarified with mapi who hummed in confirmation. the footballer had been doing the majority of the communication with your tenant in your old place considering until now you'd been in another country and she had set the whole thing up anyway.

you'd tried to offer her some money for all of her help which all that earned you was a firm punch to the arm and a warning not to be stupid, reminding you that family always helps family and doesn't expect anything in return.

"sí sí she said she wouldn't be home anyway, and you are only needing to access the garage so you will not be entering the house." mapi assured as you nodded, telling her to text you what she wanted you to grab from the market on your way back before ending the call.

stupidly mislabeling a few boxes had meant you were missing a large amount of clothing, and though both ingrid and mapi assured you were free to wear anything of theirs you already felt like you were asking too much of them staying with them anyway.

besides a lot of your more work appropriate clothes were what was missing and due to start this new role in a few days time and anything but a patient woman you were quite eager to get your ducks in a line.

"oh come on!" you grunted, having twisted the key in the garage door but struggling to pull it open, something that had pained you for years. a waterfall of curse words fell from your lips as your frustration grew and you strained to tug it open, hope fasting fading.

"you know robbers do not usually make so much noise?" you jumped at a voice behind you, dropping the door and spinning around with a startled expression.

"lo siento. i am not a robber, i am-" you tried to explain but the taller girl waved off your words. "the owner, sí? i spoke to mapi this morning." she smiled charmingly, pearly white teeth bared in amusement.

"i am jenni, your tenant." she added on with a grin holding out a heavily tattooed hand as you nodded in understanding and properly introduced yourself. "trouble with the door? there is a trick." she held up a finger and nodding for you to move aside.

you frowned curiously but did as she asked, watching as she twisted the key and popped her shoulder into the door, your eyebrows shooting up nearly as fast as the door was opened. "fácil!" she winked and gestured inside.

"i lived here for nearly five years and-" you mumbled with an annoyed huff. "-and i live here for a few weeks and know all the tricks." jenni laughed, hovering just outside as you squatted down and began to move through boxes.

"something like that." you sent her a smile over your shoulder. "i promise i will get everything out soon, my car is still in portugal and its the last thing to come back and-" you stopped yourself realizing a complete stranger would be the last person to care.

"and i do not need to be wasting more of your time, lo siento." you shook your head, finding the box you needed and tugging it up and out. "no need to apologise. you are from barcelona?" jenni asked curiously as you shook your head.

"zaragoza, but i have been living in portugal for the last few years." you answered with a polite smile. "mm then how did you end up with a house in barcelona?" jenni questioned, lips curled upward and eyes scanning you up and down.

"my mami taught me not to talk to strangers." you teased making her laugh. "so did mine but here i am letting one into my garage." jenni pointed out as you now laughed. "my garage, technically." you shrugged, noticing a large motorcycle in the corner of the garage.

"pulling the landlord card querida? vale vale. well i have paperwork we both signed though that says for another four and a half months it is my garage." jenni reminded with a grin to which you couldn't argue.

"do you ride?" you asked nodding curiously toward the bike. "what happened to not talking to strangers? i cannot ask how you ended up in barcelona but you can ask me about my bike?" jenni gasped mockingly as you rolled your eyes.

"well you just answered my question anyway." you smiled picking up the box of clothes and moving back outside as jenni effortlessly reached up and grabbed the roller door to bring it back down, something you needed a ladder for which was oddly attractive.

jenni herself was quite attractive, the way her bright eyes followed you and rose pink links curved into an alluring smile, not to mention each of her long limbs covered in even more tattoos than mapi as she was wearing only a pair of shorts and a plain white oversized shirt.

you opened your mouth to speak but were cut off by a second stranger who came storming out of the house, flipping the girl in front of you off and practically diving into a car speeding away making you frown as the other girl in front of you rolled her eyes.

"friend of yours?" you asked with a raised eyebrow as jenni shrugged. "something like that. would you like to come in for a drink?" the abruptness of her question catching you off guard as you opened and closed your mouth.

"i don't think-" you started, placing down the box as jenni cut you off. "you know if you have a drink with me, i will not be a stranger anymore. didn't your mami also teach you about manners and hospitality?" jenni challenged making you scoff but smile.

"my plans for the evening just ditched me, i already started dinner. it is rude to make someone eat and drink alone you know!" jenni tutted, stepping forward and picking up the box for you before you could protest.

"vamos, i promise i am a good cook and an even better host."

~

and as you woke up that next morning in a bedroom both familiar and unfamiliar, you knew her words to be true.

you could smell coffee as you rubbed your eyes and sat up, you heard the door open and tugged the covers up to hide your naked chest, jenni strolling in with a steaming mug.

"how did you know?" you smiled, always starting your day with coffee as the taller girl gave you an add look. "how did i know i wanted coffee?" she chuckled taking a sip as your cheeks flushed with embarrassment at your assumption.

"what time is it?" you asked with a stretch, bending down and snaking your shirt from the floor, slipping it over your head. "eleven, you really slept in." jenni hummed, leaning against the doorframe as bright green eyes drunk you in.

"sorry." you chuckled, completely missing the slightly awkward silence in the air as jenni stepped forward. "your box of stuff is by the door, get dressed and you should go." the girl shrugged, turning on heel and heading out of the room as your mouth opened in shock.

none the less you hurried to collect your clothes, pulling them on and following after her.

"you know landlords should not really sleep with tenants." jenni tutted with a smirk, pulling herself up and onto the counter as you forced your eyes not to roam her half naked body, flashes of last night where it was pressed against you flickering through your mind.

you scoffed and crossed your arms, opening your mouth to let her have it but she spoke first. "whats wrong bebé? not the normal coffee and breakfast waiting for you afterwards that you are used to? i am not that type of girl." jenni chuckled sipping from her mug.

"but last night we talked about so many things and-" "had sex? sí, and we both got something out of that no? now you should really go, technically a landlord cannot be here without the tenants permission." jenni smirked as you could only scoff.

not gracing her with another word you turned on heel and headed for the front door, hearing her footsteps pad after you as you made a swift exit. you paused as you heard a sharp whistle, slowly turning around.

"did you just whistle at me like a dog?" you asked in disbelief crossing your arms and making her chuckle where she leaned against the door. "you forgot your box." she nodded downward at her feet as you stiffened, swallowing your pride and making your way back toward her.

you glared at her as she simply smiled charmingly, sipping at her coffee as you picked up the box and turned again, storming down the path.

though a second wind brewing as you reached the end you shook your head, spinning to give her a piece of your mind but it was too late, the front door already clicking closed as you heard the turn of the lock.

"puta."

[gh0st-in-green-c0nverse]

golden

percy jackson x reader — you take his place on the throne

cw: EPISODE 5 SPOILERS (ish), swearing

The boat bobs along the water slowly. You feel sick. For a while, the two of you just sit there, still reeling.

“You okay?” Percy asks after he catches his breath.

You’d reached out and grabbed his hand without realizing it in your panic. You’re suddenly very aware of his skin on yours, warm and kind of clammy. You disentangle your fingers without comment.

“Yeah.”

He’s about to say something to fill the awkward silence when your eyes widen.

“There’s the shield!” You exclaim, standing.

He follows your gaze to a golden statue, the shield wedged between its hands. The boat doesn’t stop, though. He looks at you, and then back at the statue.

“We’re gonna have to jump,” he says, and you grimace. The artificial waves are getting choppier.

You eye the water.

“On three?” You finally say.

Percy smiles in a way that he hopes is reassuring. “On three.”

“One…two-!” Before you can say three, the boat lurches and you both topple over the edge.

As soon as the water closes over your head, you’re struggling and kicking. You can’t tell up from down. Your lungs squeeze, your eyes sting. Somewhere in the haze, you see Percy, and you reach out, but he’s so far. He disappears in a whirl of water, and you think, wow, after all of this, I’m about to die in an amusement park.

Suddenly, something solid rushes to meet you and there’s air on your face and you can’t stop coughing.

Percy places an unsure hand on your back as you suck in rattling breaths. He says something, but it still sounds like everything’s underwater.

You shake your head sharply, hand pressing your ear flat until the water drips out and you can hear again. “I’m alright,” you say, before he asks. He helps you stagger into a standing position. For a few moments, the only sound is your wheezing.

Percy squints at the chair. “This is Hephestasus’ park, right?”

You nod.

“I think this is Hera’s throne,” he says slowly, glancing at you for confirmation.

You vaguely recall that story. “She sat in it and couldn’t get up,” you think aloud.

“It was a trade,” Percy continues. “Aphrodite’s hand in marriage for Hera. The shield for…”

One of us.

Oh.

“I’ll do it.”

He catches your arm as you start forward. “Wait a minute!”

“Whoever goes in there isn’t coming back,” you explain, brows set in a hard line.

“I know, that’s why I said wait!”

You yank your arm back. Percy’s face flickers with something you can’t read.

“You need to stay alive,” you say, stressing every word.

“So do you!”

You shake your head. “You have your mom. You have Grover. You have people who need you.”

The I don’t hangs in the air, unsaid.

He opens his mouth, then shuts it again.

I need you, he wants to say.

But he doesn’t.

“The gods chose you, Percy. This is your quest.”

This is wrong. This is so wrong. It’s cruel, and so unfair that they have to choose. Fuck this. Fuck all of this.

“This isn’t about that,” he protests, though he knows he can’t beat you. You’d always had a sharper tongue than him.

You unhook your dagger. He remembers the arch, only yesterday. Is this how you felt? This burning in his chest?

“It is. It all goes back to that prophecy. To fate. To the Fates.”

Your eyes burn with tears as you hold out your dagger for him to take.

He blinks hard. “This is wrong,” he says, voice wavering, and you’ve never seen him like this before. Always tough, always witty. Unserious, sure, but never afraid.

You push it towards him, and he takes it.

“I know.”

Your fingers twitch. You’d hug him, one last time, but you remember how he froze back in St. Louis.

So you don't.

You walk over to the chair, heart pounding. This is a death sentence. This is it. This is it.

“Hey, Percy?”

His head snaps up, lip tugged between his teeth as he holds back tears too.

“Go save your mom,” You say. “Save her, save the bolt, and tell Grover I’m sorry.”

You picture Grover’s face when he finds out what happened to you. You turn away, stand right in front of the throne. It glints in the swimming light.

“And if you have a chance, I don’t know, maybe swing back around here and try to get me out?”

He laughs sadly. “You think you had to ask?”

“Just making sure.”

You sit.

For a moment, nothing happens, and you're worried that you’d said all that for nothing. You’d feel pretty stupid.

And then—

“This is weird,” you say. “It’s warm.”

There’s fear in his eyes and your dagger in his hand.

Something snakes its way up your leg, smooth and fast. It feels like wax, almost, hardening over your skin.

“This is a bad idea,” Percy says, eyes tracking something at your feet. “Stand up.”

You don’t look at what he’s looking at. You don’t want to.

“I can’t.” Panic rises in your chest, fast and unwelcome, and you’d be shaking if you could move.

“y/n—”

“It’s okay,” you whisper, voice hoarse. The words don’t sound right in your mouth. Your legs are completely immobile. Your breath comes in short gasps. “I’m okay. I’m… okay.”

You look at him, trembling and still pretty damp, mouth open like he wants to say something.

Whatever’s seeping onto your face is warm and brittle. You stare hard at his eyes. They’re a shining blue. They’re afraid.

It’s the last thing you see.

a/n: sorry guys cliffhangers make me giggle ‼️ I’ll write another part If u guys would want me to !

[princessbrunette]

All i can think about is rafe cameron buying you stupidly expensive lingerie sets for christmas😵‍💫 and then after breakfast he asks you to model them🤭

SANTA BABY ♡

gettin me in the festive spirit hehehe this made me wanna spend xmas with the cameron’s so bad :((

cw: christmas duh, family bonding time, i aged Wheezie down to be like 6 years old bc i think it would be cute idk LMAOOO , suggestive themes but nothing too crazy ❀

At his core, Rafe Cameron liked to think he was a family man. He’d often flip out, misbehave, and shit talk his family members it’s true, but Christmas was a time he liked to put it all behind him (Atleast until the new year starts, and he can start up his usual BS)

As you can imagine, Christmas at the Cameron’s was something extravagant. Humungous white christmas tree with silver decorations at the centre of the house, the outside of the house decked with lights that required enough power to start up 3 yachts, fake snow on the porch and Frank Sinatras Christmas album playing round the house at each corner. The years had only softened Ward, and whilst he could be cruel, hard on Rafe and borderline forgetful of Wheezies existence — Christmas was where he shone brightest, just wanting to do right by his kids and now, you, his sons girlfriend.

Receiving presents from the family was a whole different ballgame to your usual Christmas at home, Ward having grinned ear to ear when he handed you the box with the Tiffany’s heart tag charm bracelet glittering under the Christmas lights of the early morning (Wheezie being Wheezie woke everyone up at 6AM sharp.) Rafe, who’d insisted you’d curled right up to his side on the couch wearing his robe resisted an eye roll, his dad always having to out do him, but you seemed elated and he felt his heart warm.

They went all out, Rose handing you a literal 90’s Blumarine runway piece she’d simply overheard you talking Rafes ear off about, the next 5 minutes spent by you and Sarah fawning over it. Sarah’s gift was next, a set of SKIMS dresses you’d been saving to your Pinterest which she couldn’t help but notice, and of course Wheezie proudly handing you a glittery macaroni necklace she’d crafted you at school, which you had no choice but to act like it was the best gift of all.

Come Rafe’s turn, he simply offered his family a smile and patted your side, turning his head to look at you. “I’ve got her presents in my room, figured I’d give it to you privately.” He teases, ignoring Sarah’s ‘Barf’ comment from her cross legged position on the floor beside her little sister.

The family dispersed for a little while, Sarah helping Wheezie set up her new toys on the carpet infront of the tree, Rose and Ward going to start up the food in the kitchen (Ward insists on cooking everything themselves instead of having the chefs do it, because it was tradition.) Before you could wander in there and offer your help, you were being pulled back gently by the arm into your fluffy robe clad boyfriend wearing a poorly masked excited smile. “What, you don’t want your present from me?”

He slides a box from under his bed when you get up to his room again, covered with thin pink gift paper to hide the logo. He sits on his chair, robe falling between his legs and bare knees exposed outwards. “C’mon, sit on santas lap.” He grins and you mirror him, skipping over, happy and spoiled and perching on his leg. He puts the box in your lap and you peel away the paper to see the Agent Provocateur logo with the iconic black ribbon. You widen your eyes at him as if to say ‘Okaaaay, good job’ before wedging your fingertips carefully beneath the cardboard lip and lifting it, seeing 5 sets before you that was perfectly accustomed to your taste.

You remember your trip to the city with Rafe, it was business of course — but you were happy to tag along and walk alongside him watching him handle things for you and his family. You’d spotted the fancy lingerie store, practically pressing yourself up against the glass of the window as you look inside rambling about how you had so many of the sets saved to your Pinterest, pointing out each with your finger smushed to the glass. Rafe nodded distractedly, phone pressed to his ear, leaning on his hip in his gridded shirt and khaki pants that fit too good, before gesturing to you with his thumb that the two of you needed to get moving again, or else you’d be late to the appointment with a buyer. You pout and peel yourself away from the store.

But that was like what, September? Did he go back and buy it all for you? Order it once he’d returned home with you? You’d know Rafe to hold a grudge, but didn’t know his memory served in a positive manner too. “Rafe…” You coo, plucking out the sets and holding them up to admire the intricate lace detailing, spotting matching garters and whatever else you’d mentioned laying in the box. The thought of him fumbling through your underwear drawer trying to figure out your bra size made you giggle, wrapping an arm around his neck in an appreciative squeeze.

“How’d you remember?” Your voice was high in awe, wanting to hold on to this sweet side of Rafe forever.

“Please, I pay attention sometimes y’know.” He smirks modestly, eyes on the box as he admires his work. “So you like it? Yeah?” His hands finding your hips and giving them a soft squeeze.

“Love it, Rafey.” It comes out muffled, because you’re busying yourself with pressing big wet kisses to his cheek, and then eventually his mouth. He pulls away a fraction, lips still brushing yours and eyes cracking open.

“Gonna try it all on for me though, right?” He drawls in that classic Rafe way that you can never say no to and you nod so vigorously you nearly headbutt him. He pats your butt with a pleased hum and pecks you once more. “Atta girl.”

[giuseppe-yuki]

snake expert

pierre gasly x snake shapeshifter! reader

w.c.: 1.5k

warnings: a few cuss words

part of my shapeshifting!reader series

summary: when did pierre gain so much knowledge on snakes?

picture credits from pinterest :)

“go, go quick!” pierre whispers, holding in a giggle. he holds his arm an inch above the floor, letting you slither onto the ground smoothly. the rossa corsa walls of the ferrari motorhome clash against the alpine blue of pierre’s team kit. he gone through extreme lengths to sneak into the motorhome with you because approximately half an hour ago, he had formulated a plan to prank charles. he knew his best friend hated snakes, so like best friends do, he convinced you to sneak into charles’ drivers room to scare the living shit out of him. 

you slithered against the wall, trying your best to camouflage in the shadows while pierre tiptoed towards charles’ room- rather conspicuously with his blue team kit, you might add. it was honestly mind-blowing how a ferrari team member hadn’t passed by the hallway and seen pierre. he continued tiptoing towards your final destination, with a wide grin plastered on his face and his phone out with the camera app pulled up.

when you arrived at charles’ door, you waited for pierre to crack it open before slithering in. charles’ drivers room was split up into two rooms, with the one near the door containing all his racing gear and his f1 sim while the room in the back containing a bed, desk, and massage table. it was separated by a thin sliding door. pierre had been there dozens of times, so he walked in like he owned the place and set up his tripod in front of the door. you could hear charles’ voice speaking in rapid french through the door; probably talking to someone. when pierre gave you the nod, you wedged yourself through the crack in the sliding door and into the second room.

charles was sat on his ferrari-themed bedspread, back facing towards you. he was wearing his team kit along with the possibly ugliest pair of jeans you have ever seen, and in his hands was a hedgehog, listening intently to him talk on about something- probably ferrari’s shit strategies. taking advantage of his preoccupied attention, you continue your climb up his bedspread and towards him. when he spots you coming towards him, his eyes immediately widen in fear and with his quick reaction skills, absolutely propels his entire body the opposite direction of you. the hedgehog (his girlfriend probably, you deduce) that he was holding flies out of his hands but luckily lands softly on the covers of his bed. 

“mon dieu! a-a-a snake!!!” he screams, about to bolt out of the room. 

from the sliding door, your boyfriend bursts out laughing. he had slid the door open when you were climbing up charles’ bedspread and gotten a 4k ultrahd video of charles reaction. 

“mate, you screamed so loud, i thought my eardrums exploded,” pierre says, bent over laughing. “and i don’t think your girlfriend appreciates being thrown across the room like that!” 

you look back towards the direction of the hedgehog, and sure enough, sits a girl in a gorgeous floral babydoll dress with her arms crossed in front of her chest, pouting at charles. “i can’t believe you just punted me like that, mon cheri!” she says, even though you can tell it has a hint of teasing laced into it. charles quickly crosses the room to console his girlfriend, all the while glaring at pierre.

“mate, i fucking hate you,” charles spits out towards pierre, “i swear to god i’m gonna get you back one day!” 

you turn back into your original form as well, giggling as you climb off charles’ bed. “that was funny, i’m not going to lie.” once off the bed, you reach your hand out and introduce yourself to charles’ girlfriend. “hey, nice to meet you! i’m sorry i made your boyfriend fling you onto the bed.”

she laughs, “it’s nice to meet you too.” gesturing to charles, who is now chatting to pierre on the other side of the room, she continues,” i think you affected him much more than he affected me! i swear i felt his heart skip a beat when you scared him!” 

half an hour later, pierre walks out of charles’ driver room, now armed with one blackmail video, 3 cans of celcius, and you coiled up around one of his arms. “that was really funny baby, we should totally do that to yuki!” pierre exclaims. 

before you can respond, oliver bearman turns the corner of the ferrari motorhome. “pierre gasly?” he says, mouth gaping. “what are you doing here? were you stealing celsiuses from the ferrari motorhome?” 

caught off guard, your boyfriend stutters out a response. “n-n-no! um- i was just visiting charles and wishing him good luck for the race later today!”

ollie nods understandingly, but then his eyes widen as he spots you, “ wait, how about the literal six feet snake on your arm? i just heard you call it baby???” 

“er- yeah about that…um yeah thats like- her name…kind of?” pierre stammers, scratching his head and giving a convincing half-smile. you flick out your tongue, hissing a little for good measure. 

“oh, um, okay,” ollie says. “you should probably go though, i don’t want reporters accusing you of breaking and entering the ferrari motorhome.”

pierre nods, and starts walking to the alpine garage. 

when you and pierre arrive, its like a bomb went off in the alpine motorhome. there are engineers in every square inch of garage space trying to fix up the car in time for the prix, strategists typing away on the computers, cameramen fixing up their camera wires, reporters shuffling through prompt papers, and car parts lying everywhere. jack doohan is standing the corner of the room scrolling on his phone, and ocon is cleaning his helmet on a counter with what you’re pretty sure is a flying squirrel clutched to one of his wrists. 

pierre had talked to you before about setting up a snake enclosure in the alpine garage, so you could be more comfortable watching his race, while also having the benefit of not being bombarded by the media spotlight. 

he seeks out one of his alpine assistants, and explains his plan to him. “hey man, i really think that we should set up a snake terrarium for my snake here.” he points to you curled around his arm, like you weren’t already quite obviously out of place in a setting like the alpine garage. “she’s really, really important to me and i will be bringing her every race weekend with me, so it would be great if we could set up an area for her to chill at every prix this year?” 

his assistant gapes at him, mouth open. “so let me get this straight, you’re bringing this snake to every grand prix? is it like, your emotional support animal like yuki’s bunny? does it attack bad people who get near you?”

“yuki’s what??” pierre exclaims. “when did yuki get a emotional support bunny? and no? my snake does not attack people…well actually it might scare them occasionally,” he admits, thinking of his prank on charles. “anyways, this snake is just extremely important to me,” he finishes. 

you roll your eyes internally. of course your boyfriend doesn’t know about yuki’s “emotional support bunny”/ attack bunny/ girlfriend. he was busy plotting his prank on charles while you went and had brunch with yuki’s really nice girlfriend (she had explained to you that she apparently only shows her mean side if somebody tries to hurt her or her boyfriend). maybe you could plan a double date dinner so everyone could catch up on the latest news? you had heard yuki was a great cook.

you are snapped out of your thoughts by pierre when he places you on the counter next to race suit and helmet. it is like he is in his own world as he explains the high level details of how he wants your snake terrarium designed to the assistant, who is now joined by an engineer who you suppose is going to be designing the terrarium itself. he waves his hands animately as he explains. 

“-at least forty gallons! not thirty, not twenty, not even ten gallons! it needs to be big enough for her or else she will feel cramped. for the heating, make sure to use under tank heating pads. do NOT buy the overhead habitat bulbs- those stress my snakes out. also, make sure it only heats half of the tank and not the whole thing, because it is good for snakes to have a range of temperatures to chose from. i know my baby really well, and i know that she likes the temperature exactly at 27-29 C on one side and 32 C on the other. the humidity in the cage MUST be at the right level too.”

both the assistant and engineer stare at pierre, a look of amazement on both of their faces. “damn pierre,” the engineer says, shaking her head. “when did you learn so much about snakes? won’t your girlfriend get jealous that you're going to have a giant terrarium built for your snake but nothing for her?”

taglist: @ilivbullyingjeongin @ale-522 @formula1-motogpfan @aceyalonso @my0hmary @mbappebby

[samandcolbyownme]

Summary: anon request - "sam and colby making a sex tape with reader?!?!"

Warnings: SMUT18+, strong language, mentions of alcohol, unprotected sex, double penetration, fingering, oral (all rec), hair pulling, rough actions, dirty talk, pet names, creampies, filth

Word count: 3.9k | not edited

╔═══━━━─── • ───━━━═══╗

"What are you doing lately, miss y/n?" Michelle asks as she crosses her leg over her other, leaning back to sip her drink.

You glance up at Sam and Colby, who are smiling and laughing while talking with their friends.

You look back to your friend, "Oh you know, just the usual adventuring and YouTubing."

She smiles and nods, "Yeah I just seen you surpassed three million." She holds her glass out and you clink yours with hers. She takes a sip, pointing to you, "I'm proud of you."

You smile, "Thank you. It hasn't been easy, but we're getting somewhere."

"And another round of tequila shots for this table." The waitress says setting down the tray and everyone cheers, already slightly drunk.

"Thank you!" You say taking your shot glass, "What are we cheersing to?"

"To y/n. For making to three million." Colby winks at you and you can feel the heat in your cheeks rising and it doesn't help when Sam looks at you with his smirk, "To y/n."

"No.. no.. there's no-"

"To y/n." They all cut you off, clinking their small glasses before taking them. A few people let out a groan and you laugh as you suck on your lime wedge.

"Oh my god. I love this song." Michelle gets up, "Come dance with me!" You look down at your empty glass, "Let me get a refill and I'll meet you out there."

She nods and runs over with a few of the other girls, dancing and singing as they do.

You look up and Sam and Colby are staring at you, "Yes?"

They shake their heads and Colby scoots down in the booth to sit in front of you, "Just admiring how good our girl looks." He winks and nods down, "I'll get you a drink."

You smile, "Thank you."

Sam moves down, "He's right. You look fantastic, babe."

"Sam." You whisper leaning in, "Careful."

He rolls his eyes, "Please. They're all drunk, they don't care." You smirk, glancing over at the rest of the group laughing and taking more shots, "You're right."

You, Sam and Colby all talked and agreed to keep your relationship as secret as possible, mainly because you weren't sure how everyone would react to you guys being a thruple.

You didn't think your friends would care, they'd be asking questions for sure, but Sam and Colby's fan base, along with yours, you just weren't sure yet.

You didn't really care what they thought, normal was so fucking overrated anyway. It was more or less you didn't want Sam and Colby to lose viewers for it, that was important to them.

You look over and lean over slightly as Colby extends his arm out, drink in hand, "Here you go, my love."

You smile, "Thank you." You take a sip, "Mm. This is delicious."

He sits down next to Sam, "Thought you'd like it." He slides Sam drink over to him and sighs, "Thought you were going to dance?"

You glance over at Michelle and the others and sigh, "Yeah, I probably should." You stand up, resting your hands flat on the table, "I know I'm reaching my limit soon."

"How come?" Colby smirks leaning in. You look over at him, leaning in closer to both him and Colby, "Because I'm starting to wonder why we aren't having sex yet."

You bite your lip, slowly pushing yourself up off the table.

"Yeah I'm starting to wonder that myself." Sam brings his glass to his lips and Colby nods, "Mhm." You smirk, laughing as you grab your drink, "Later."

You walk over, dancing as you walk up to your friends. Soon enough, you find yourself being drug up to the bar, your friends egging you to take more shots, and you do.

You slam the fifth one down, waving your hands as you laugh, "No, no. No more." You shake your head, "I'm good."

"Oh come on, y/n! It's a special night." Michelle shakes your arm slightly and you smirk, sighing, "Fine. One." You hold up one finger, "I mean one more."

"Yes! Okay!" She waves to the bartender and he walks over, "I need.." she looks around to make sure everyone is still there, "Five more tequila shots please."

He nods and walks away to get them and Michelle turns to you, "So how does it feel?"

You look up at her from your bar stool, "How does what feel?"

"You know.. getting to hang out with Sam and Colby all the time?" She sips her drink and raises her eyebrows, "You know lots of girls would kill to be in your position."

You laugh slightly, "I mean, I've known them for a while." You shrug, "It's always something new."

"Now.." she laughs slightly and sighs, "I have to ask.."

You close your eyes, biting down on the inside of your lip because you know where this is going.

"Are you.. you know.." she leans in, glancing back at them before looking back at you, "Seeing either one of them?"

"Oh my god, Michelle." You roll your eyes and the bartender sets the glasses down, "Here you go."

"Thank you." You grab yours, taking it before sucking on the lime wedge.

"You didn't answer me." She nudges you, "Come on. I'm your best friend."

"And you're also very.. very drunk. So on that note." You finish the drink in your tall glass and set it down, "I'm heading home."

You go to stand up and she grabs you, "We're not done talking about this, missy."

You laugh and nod your head, "okay."

You walk over to the booth Sam and Colby are at, leaning down between them, "Take me home."

They both turn to look at you and they both nod, "Gladly."

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

The ride home was kinda quiet, all but Sam and Colby talking to the Uber driver.

"Yeah, I've followed you guys since the beginning. I recently just subscribed to y/n. I think her content is pretty good too."

"I basically do the same stuff they do, just without the man power." You giggle and they all laugh. Kellin, the driver, shakes his head, "I think that's pretty badass."

Colby's hand brushes against your leg at the subtle flirting that's happening on Kellin's end and you lay your hand on his, "Yeah, when I'm not doing my own stuff, I'm with these two on their channel."

Sam chuckles and shakes his head, mumbling under his breath, "Can't get enough of us."

"What was that?" Kellin asks leaning back more and Colby laughs, "This is our stop."

"Oh, alright. Pleasure to meet you guys." He looks back, "Congrats on three mill, y/n." He smiles and you nod, "Thank you for driving us home."

"Anytime." He winks and you see Colby clench his jaw before he gets out, helping you out behind him. He shuts the door with a slam and Sam walks around the back to meet you guys before heading up to the house.

"That guy was so fucking thirsty for your attention, babe." Colby laughs and sighs, "times like that are when I wish I could just.." he grabs your throat, holding you still so he can crash his lips onto yours.

You grip his biceps, kissing him back until Sam cuts it short, "Can we maybe move this party inside?"

You laugh against Colby's lips, "Of course, honey." You squeeze him arm as you walk by him, setting your bag down on the couch.

You turn around, and watch as Colby shrugs his jacket off. Sam pulls his hoodie up over his head. They both lay them over the back of the couch as you sit down on it, "So."

"So." They both say as they move in to kiss each side of your neck. You tilt your head back and shrug your cropped jacket that's draped over your shoulders, off.

"I had an idea." You whimper as you drag your hands up their chests, "A good idea actually."

"What's your good idea, baby?" Colby slides his hands down and across your waist, "we'd love to know."

Sam rests his forehead against your temple and you smirk, "Go get the camera." Sam lifts his head and looks at Colby, "Fuck yeah."

Sam races upstairs into the office to grab it. Colby moves to stand between your knees, holding onto your waist, "dirty girl."

"Just want something to look back on when you guys are away." You bite your lip as you look up at him and he groans lowly, "Well give you something."

Sam comes back down, "Alright. Where do you wanna start?" You slide down off the back of the couch, "follow me." You walk over to the steps and you hear the camera click on.

You smirk as you turn around, looking down at the camera. Sam moves it up and down, showing you off, "Can't wait to get you out of that tiny little skirt."

"Been teasing us all fucking night." Colby adds as he walks up, pulling you with him up the steps. Sam follows behind, and you make your way to the bedroom.

You pull Colby to you, pushing him back onto the bed so you can straddle him. You reach out for Sam, grabbing his hand once he lays it in yours and pull him to you as well.

He hands the camera to Colby and Colby films you on top of him. Your skirt riding up to reveal those slutty little panties sitting between your legs that are soaked.

Moving over to capture the slow, heated make out that has you pulling at Sam's shirt. He leans back, lifting the shirt over his head and tossing it before moving back in for more.

"Fuck. That's so hot." Colby groans, raising his hips slightly. You moan against Sam's lips as you grind against Colby's cock in his jeans.

"That feel good?" Colby asks and you nod as you pull away from Sam, "Yes."

"You know what would feel better, baby?" Sam whispers as he slides his hand down your body, pulling your skirt up more, "If you sat on his cock for him."

Colby hands the camera to Sam and you move off of him onto your knees slowly taking what little clothes you had on, off while Sam recorded you, hyping you up as Colby stood next to him.

"Fuck, yeah baby. Take it off for us." Sam whispers, "You're so fucking sexy."

You giggle as you toss the black bandeau top at them and Sam zooms in your jiggling boobs, "You have such nice tits, babe."

You smile, covering your face as you laugh slightly, "Sam."

"What?" He laughs, "I'm just being honest, now move those arms, we wanna see."

You move your arms, hooking your thumbs into the band of your skirt but Colby stops you, "Mm. Leave that on. Just take off your panties."

You nod, confused, but you reach up under, hooking your fingers into the band of your underwear before pulling them down to above your knees.

You sit back watch as Colby takes the camera. Sam moves onto the bed, sliding his up your legs and grabbing a hold of your panties to pull them down.

He tosses them aside and grabs your ankles, spreading your legs apart. You move your skirt up to around your hips before you lean back, resting on your elbows.

"Look at the way he's looking at you, baby." Colby moves up by your head, "He wants to devour you."

You look from Colby to Sam and bite your lip, staring into Sam's eyes, "please..baby."

A smirk grows onto Sam's face and he nods towards Colby, "Give him something to." He winks and slides his hands up the outside of your thighs to your hips, gripping them as he shifts around to lay on his stomach.

You work at undoing Colby's jeans, pushing them down so you can free his cock from his boxers. Colby groans as your hand wraps around him, pumping slowly.

"Fuck.." he breathes out and holds the camera on the scene, "Use your mouth baby. I love it when you use that pretty little mouth."

Sam presses little kisses along the inside of your thigh until he reaches your pussy. He licks a strip up to your clit, closing his lips around it.

You moan out as you lean in to take the head of Colby's cock into your mouth. Colby holds the camera as steady as he possibly can on you sucking his cock, moving it to Sam eating your pussy every so often.

You work your way down, moaning around Colby as Sam's tongue plunges deep into you.

"F-fuck, baby. Yeah, shit. That's it." Colby groans, laying a hand on the back of your head, "Just.. like that just like that."

You pull off, tilting your head back as you clench around Sam's tongue, "Fuck, fuck fuck." You stroke Colby's cock, moaning out as you cum on Sam's face.

"Good girl, baby. Good fucking girl." Colby groans and points to the camera to Sam as he sits up, "How's she taste, Sam?" 

Sam smirks and nods, "scrumptious as always." He takes the camera from Colby and Colby pulls you up, "Come here, baby girl."

You wrap your arms around his neck, kissing him as he pulls you closer by pressing his hands to your back. He bends you back, laying you down as he hovers his body over yours, lips still connected with yours.

"Same thing but with Sam, yeah?" He says lifting his head up. You nod, panting as he kisses down your body.

Your eyes roll back as Colby sucks on your clit, nipping gently. Sam moves up next to you, recording Colby as he throws your legs over his shoulders.

"Tell us how it feels, baby." Sam brushes his hand over your boob, pinching and twisting your nipple, "does it feel good?"

"So.. so fucking good." You open your eyes, moaning out as you lean up to undo Sam's jeans, doing the same thing you did to Colby.

You tilt your head back, gasping as you feel Colby slip two fingers into you, "Shit." You clench around them as you pull Sam's boxers down his thighs, "Fuck, fuck, Colby."

You wrap your hand around Sam's cock and he pushes his hips forward. You part your lips, wrapping them around the head of his cock.

He groans lowly, "F-fuck, baby." He lays a hand on the back of your head, tangling his fingers into your hair as he slowly moves your head up and down.

Your eyes roll shut as the overwhelming pleasure feeling of having a back to back orgasm takes over.

"You're so fucking good at this." Sam lets go of your hair and you bob your head, moaning around him as you cum around Colby's fingers.

"Fuck, fuck." Sam groans and moves his hips back, pulling his cock from your mouth, "You only get better at that."

Sam moves the camera down to film Colby finger fuck you through your high. You're whimpering, moaning, and arching your back off the bed while your heels dig into his back.

Your back meets the mattress as Colby pulls his fingers out and leans up. He brings his fingers to your lips and Sam records your wrapping your lips around them. You swirl your tongue, moaning as you suck yourself from his fingers.

"So fucking pretty." Sam brushes his fingers over your jaw and hands the camera to Colby when he takes his fingers from your mouth.

Sam stands up to discard his clothes fully, then lays his body on yours. You feel his cock rub against you, “Sam.”

“What baby?” Sam kisses your jaw line down your neck as you whimper, “Please.”

Sam looks over at Colby, smirking at the camera as he leans up to his knees, “Please what baby?”

“I want you..” you move your hips, staring up at him, “I need you.”

“She needs you, Sam.” Colby says moving the camera up and down your body slowly, “Give her some.”

Sam bites his lip as he slowly pushes his cock into you. Colby records your face as it scrunches up with pleasure and you moan, “Yes, yes.”

“That what you wanted, babe? Hmm?” Colby runs his thumb over your bottom lip and you wrap your lips around it, moaning quietly as Sam starts to slowly thrust in and out of you.

Colby pulls his thumb out and you moan, “y-yes.”

Sam grips the shirt that’s around your waist, groaning as he tilts his head back, “Shit.”

Colby moves the camera down, focusing on Sam’s cock going in and out of you, “So fucking hot.” Colby moves down to plant his lips on yours, swallowing every moan that comes from your lips.

Sam slides a hand up, gripping one of your boobs as he slows his thrusts down, “I need to stop or my night will be cut short.” He chuckles as he pulls his cock from you and you whimper at the loss.

Sam takes the camera from Colby and Colby moves to lay next to you, “C’mere, baby girl.” He guides you to straddle him and you sink down onto his cock with a gasp, nails leaving crescent marks on his abdomen.

Sam sets the camera on the stand next to the bed, angled perfect to capture all three of you. He moves up next to you, kiss your neck as you move up and down on Colby’s cock, “You look so hot riding his cock.”

“So fucking good at this.” Colby moans as his fingers dig into your thighs, “Such a beautiful fucking sight.”

Sam grabs your skirt, assisting with lifting you up and down, “You’re such a little slut for us.” He nips your ear, groaning as you reach down to grab his cock, stroking him as you lay your head back on his shoulder, “you know exactly how to treat us.”

You clench around Colby’s cock and Colby shakes his head, “Hold it baby. You’re gunna cum with us when we’re ready.”

You nod once, squeezing your eyes shut as Sam sucks on your neck, pinching your nipple with his fingers, “You can do it, baby. I know you can.”

“Sam.. give me the camera..” Colby extends an arm out towards it and Sam moves to grab it, handing it to him before moving to his place behind you.

Colby records you bouncing on his cock while Sam slides a hand down to rub your clit, “I know we make it hard, but don’t cum yet.”

“Fucking beautiful.” Colby moans and zooms in on his cock going in and out of your pussy, “Sh-shit.” Colby sits up slightly, “How do you wanna finish.”

He reaches up and tilts your chin down so you can look at him, “How do you wanna finish, baby?” He repeats and you smile slightly, “I want you both.”

Colby’s eyes move to Sam’s and Sam smirks, “You heard her.” Colby nods, “I sure did.”

Sam moves to sit with his back against the headboard, “you can either set the camera down somewhere or whatever..”

Colby nods, moving to set it up somewhere while Sam directs you on how to sit, basically reverse cowgirl, but Sam move down a little bit and you’re laying with your back on his chest.

You bring your legs up and Colby moves in front of you, standing over you looking over your body, “Hold on.” He reaches over, grabbing the camera.

Sam reaches down grabbing his cock and slaps it against your ass a few times, “Colbs, some spit please.”

Colby chuckles and nods before leaning forward to spit. You bite your lip as you feel it run down over your ass and Sam rubs his cock in it.

Colby records the process of Sam slowly pushing into you, moving up to your face as you pant, moaning out with a little bit of pain and pleasure combined.

“You okay, baby?” Sam asks in whisper as he moves to hold your legs up by the back of your knees.

You nod, “y-yes. Yes.”

“Taking him so good baby.” Colby presses his thumb to your clit, gently rubbing circles as Sam slowly pulls his cock out and thrusts back in.

Your moans fill the room, and they’re loud.

“That’s it baby, let em out.” Colby groans as he watches the scene in front of him, “Fuck, let me in there.” Sam slows his thrusts down, leaving you whimpering as Colby slowly slips his cock into your pussy, “Fucking hell.”

He angles the camera down by his side, capturing the moment.

You lay your hands on Sam’s, digging your nails into the top of his hands, “Fuck, fuck fuck.”

“Taking us so fucking well baby.” Sam kisses your head, “Almost done, okay?”

You nod and arch your back slightly, becoming a complete mess as they start to thrust into you.

You can fight it anymore. You clench around both of them, screaming out as you cum. Colby pushes your thighs back a little more with his one hand, moaning out as you cum around him.

“Shit.” He groans lowly, “I-I’m gonna fucking cum.” He digs his fingers into your thigh and tries to hold the camera steady as he fills you.

Sam is quick to follow.

You moan out as you feel them both twitching inside of you, whimpering as you relax from your own high,

Colby leans up, breathing heavy as he watches you, “Y/n, baby. You alright?”

You slowly lift your head, giving him a smile, “Never better.”

Colby bites his lip, nodding as he moves the camera to where you guys are still commenced, “Ready?” You take a deep breath, “Yeah.”

He nods and slowly pulls out. He groans lowly as he watches his cum spill out and roll down towards Sam cock that’s still inside of you, “Fuck. Sam you’ll have to watch this.”

“Oh trust me. I want to.” Sam slowly lifts you as he pulls out himself, and Colby sucks in air as you push out Sam’s cum for him, “Fuck, baby.”

You giggle quietly, sighing as you roll off of Sam. He leans over, “I’ll go get the shower started, hang tight.” He places a kiss to your lips and you nod, “Okay.”

Colby sets the camera down and lays next to you, “You okay?” He brushes hair from your face and you lay a hand on his cheek, “I’m sure I’ll feel it tomorrow.”

He chuckles and nods, “Yeah, that’s why I’m not going to let us watch it for a few days. Because I’m sure when we do..” he raises his brows and you laugh, “Oh I know.”

Sam comes back in, laying behind you, “You okay?” You nod, turning your head towards him, “Yes, baby.” He kisses your cheek, “Okay. Shower is ready.”

You slowly sit up and swing your legs off the bed, “Better hope that doesn’t get mixed in with your usual footage.” You laugh and look at them.

Colby’s eyes go wide, “Oh god, we’d have to fucking tweet something along the lines of um, hey guys, so that wasn’t your normal footage.. sorry for the.. the.. I don’t even know what we’d say.. I’d delete my accounts.. go rogue.” He laughs, “Colby Brock who?”

You laugh and look at Sam, “not if we uploaded it to the right website.” You wink and get up to walk to the bathroom.”

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

I feel like this was short, but also really good so that makes up for it. I hope you enjoyed!

Likes and reblogs are appreciated!

[eddiazx]

fright night - eddie diaz x reader

You’re not afraid of horror movies.

You’re a firefighter for god’s sake. You see different horrors every single shift.

So you’re not afraid of fictional universes and CGI ghosts and jump scares.

Except you might be, just a little.

Chim decided a good use of your Friday night before Halloween would be to watch some of the classics, since Buck and Maddie barely watched them when they were growing up. So naturally, the invite was extended to the rest of the 118.

So here you were, sitting in the dark between two of your best friends. You’re wedged in between Eddie and Hen on one of Chim and Maddie's couches, and even though the movie hadn't even started yet, you were already on edge. The only things calming you down was the smell of Eddie’s cologne and the warm press of his leg against yours. Eddie’s left arm was resting on the back of the couch behind you, and you know that if you tilted your head back, you would be able to rest your head on it and press a kiss to his exposed forearm.

But that would be extremely weird, because you’re just friends, and friends don’t do things like that.

“Boo.” Your inner thoughts are interrupted by a whisper in your ear, that comes in the form of Buck crouching behind the couch.

Startled, you yelp and jump onto the closest surface you can find away from the noise, which happens to be… Eddie’s lap.

Buck and Hen start cackling at your reaction while you send them glares and threaten to wash their uniforms with itching powder. You slowly return to your original seat, and turn to Eddie to apologize.

“Don’t worry about it.” Eddie replies, with a pained smile.

You’re about to question if you hurt him, when Eddie gets up hastily and mumbles something about checking to see if the patio doors are locked.

Which is weird, because Chim and Maddie don’t have a patio.

You figure you’d give him some space, but when Eddie still hadn’t returned in 5 minutes (not that you're counting or anything), you set out to look for him.

You find him in the kitchen, sitting at the dining table, his eyes closed. He looks like he’s trying to calm down, taking big, deep breaths.

Okay, now you’re even more concerned.

“Eddie? Are you okay?” You question, crouching into a squatting position next to his chair, looking up at him.

Eddie opens one singular eye, looks down at you, and groans.

“God… look at you. You drive me crazy.”

You blink back at him, entirely bewildered. “What? Why? What’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong is I am in love with my best friend and I’m hard as steel because she was in my lap and squirming and now she’s staring up at me and all I can think about is dragging her into a bedroom and getting her on her knees for an entirely different reason and-“

Eddie’s tirade is interrupted with the press of your lips on his.

“I’m in love with you too, you dork. Now can you come back? I need someone to hold onto during this movie. And maybe after that, we can do all of those things.”

The biggest smile spreads across Eddie's face at your admission, and he nods enthusiastically before standing up. You return to the living room with your hand in his, fingers interlocked, and pretend to ignore Chim and Buck each handing Hen twenty dollar bills.

[pucksandpower]

if requests are open, can I pls request baby vettel telling her brothers (the grid kids) she has a "boyfriend" when she comes home from kindergarten one day ??? if requests are closed, please ignore 💗 love your works so much !!

Grid Kids: Cooties

Sebastian Vettel x wife!Reader x platonic!drivers

Summary: the grid kids take being big brothers very seriously

Series Masterlist

“No.”

Max’s voice is firm, his face aghast.

Charles, sitting next to him, nods in agreement. “I thought we agreed that you’re not allowed to date until you’re 40?”

Your daughter looks up from her crayon artwork, her little brows furrowing. “But Tommy said we’re boy ... boyfr …”

Lance interrupts, “Boyfriend and girlfriend? No, no, no. Absolutely not.”

George chimes in, holding up a toy car, “Tell whoever this Tommy is that you’re too busy racing to have a boyfriend.”

Lando adds, “Besides, boyfriends mean cooties. Do you want cooties?”

She tilts her head, pondering the dire consequences of these so-called cooties.

Charles, trying to be the voice of reason, kneels down to her level. “Sweetie, you’re a smart, wonderful little girl. And Tommy is, well ... you can do better.”

Mick, watching the entire exchange, laughs. “Guys, she’s just a kid. They’re probably just sharing crayons.”

Lando looks scandalized, “Crayons today, hearts tomorrow. It’s a slippery slope!”

Sebastian, watching the overprotective madness unfold, turns to you with a smirk, “I think our daughter has a solid set of bodyguards.”

You laugh, wrapping an arm around him. “Good luck to any actual future boyfriends.”

Your daughter simply shrugs, scribbles something on a piece of paper, and hands it to Charles. “For Tommy.”

Charles reads aloud, “We can be friends. But no cooties. Okay?”

***

The next day after school, Max bends down to your daughter’s eye level, “Now, which one is Tommy?”

She points a tiny finger to a little boy playing with a toy car on the playground. He has sandy hair and an innocent expression as he makes car noises.

Lando claps his hands together, “Alright, mates, game faces.”

George rolls his eyes but can’t help his grin, “Really? We’re really doing this?”

Lance nudges him, “We have to ensure he’s good enough for our sister!”

As the grid kids approach Tommy, he looks up, wide-eyed at the small army of grown-ups marching towards him.

Charles squats down, “Hey there, buddy. You Tommy?”

Tommy nods slowly, clutching his toy car.

George, leaning down too, tries to sound stern, “We heard you’re, uh, dating our sister.”

Lando, animatedly acting out air quotes around the word dating, adds, “We just wanted to have a quick chat.”

Mick, clearly finding the whole situation hilarious, jumps in, “You know, about intentions and all.”

Tommy blinks, “Inten-what?”

Max clears his throat, “Look, Tommy, we just want to make sure you’re treating our sister right. No stealing her toys or snacks.”

Lando jumps in again, “And absolutely no cooties. We had a long talk about that.”

Tommy nods fervently, “I don’t have cooties!”

Charles chuckles, “Good to know. So, you’ll play nice with her?”

Tommy nods again, “I promise. I just wanted to show her my new car.” He holds up the toy proudly.

George pats him on the head awkwardly, “Alright, Tommy. Just remember, we’re watching you.”

***

“Operation Sneaky Sneak is a go. Over,” Lando whispers dramatically into his walkie-talkie from his hiding spot behind a bush.

“Copy that,” George responds, trying to peer into Tommy’s living room window from a tree branch, “They’re ... playing with dolls? Oh, and there are some cookies. Over.”

Lance, hidden behind a garden gnome, chimes in, “I hope they're chocolate chip. Over.”

Charles, from his spot on top of a garden shed, adds, “No visual on any suspicious activities. Just some Barbies about to get the worst haircut of their life. Over.”

Mick, wedged between two trash cans, mutters, “Feels like we’re in a bad spy movie.”

Max, crouching behind a car, counters, “Feels? We ARE in a bad spy movie.”

Suddenly, the back door to Tommy’s house swings open and out step his parents, chatting and laughing. The grid kids freeze.

George, panicking, whispers into the walkie-talkie, “Abort mission! I repeat, abort!”

Lance tries to slink away, “Going dark! Going dark! We have been compromised.”

But it’s too late. Tommy’s mother spots them. “Um, gentlemen? What are you doing?”

Charles attempts to play it cool, “Oh, you know, just ... birdwatching. Beautiful sparrows around here.”

Tommy’s father suppresses a grin, “In our backyard? With walkie-talkies?”

Lando, thinking on his feet, responds, “Modern birdwatching. Very high tech. Over.”

Mick gives him a look, “Did you seriously just say over out loud?”

Max tries to salvage the situation, “We just wanted to ensure the playdate went ... smoothly.”

Tommy’s parents burst into laughter. “You guys really care about her, huh?”

Before anyone can respond, there’s a rustling from above. Thunk! “Ow!” Thwack! “Not the face!” Crash! “My hair!”

Everyone’s attention is immediately drawn to George who has dramatically fallen out of the tree, hitting almost every branch on the way down.

Rubbing his back, George groans from where he’s splayed on the ground, “Guess I should leave the climbing to the kids.”

Tommy’s mother takes pity on the fully grown children masquerading as adults in front of her, “Would any of you like to come in for juice boxes?”

The grid kids exchange sheepish glances. “Yes, please,” they reply in unison.

[solbaby7]

Run

pairing: azriel x reader

warnings: not edited, mentions home invasion, some swearing, violence, a bit angsty but fluffy at the end

summary: No one has ever once dared to try breaching the Night Courts walls—until now.

—

Nothing bad ever happened at your main residence in the Night Court.

Rhysand had been adamant that no one had ever once dared to try and breach these walls.

He’d said it so confidently; with such unwavering certainty that you’d never once questioned it. Never second guessed leaving open a window through the night or not always checking if you’d locked the front door behind you. It made you careless when wandering around the grounds with no weapons, brain on auto-pilot as you ran your fingers over the flowers Elaine and Lucien had spent all of Spring tending to together.

But the sound of glass crashing from down the hall was unmistakable and your brain scrambled to remember everyone telling you they’d all be gone today—that you and Elaine would be the only ones in the house until later in the day.

It had only been a couple of hours.

Elaine’s eyes snap to yours over her knitting needles when another crash sounds and now you can hear males voices; a handful of them overlapping against one another and you’re quick to jump into action. “Get up.” You snatch a sword from the display and anchor it between the doorhandles, wedging a heavy chair to the bottom for good measure before rushing over to the window. “It’ll be a little bit of a drop, so you’ll have to tuck your knees so you don’t break anything, okay?”

“You want me to jump out of the window?”

Another crash, one much closer and the panic you feel is all consuming but you force it away when you grip at her shoulders. This was the High Lady’s sister—Nesta’s most prized possession and you were certain she’d slice your head clean off your shoulders upon hearing something happening to her sister. “Elaine, you don’t have a choice. You need to get out of here and run—run for help. Find Azriel and the others and don’t stop until you do.”

Reality seems to set in when you’re collecting the layers of the bottom of her dress and bracing her arm on your shoulder as you ease her legs out of the window. “But,” Her eyes are frantic, heart hammering in her chest and you have to fight extra hard to seem calm; confident when you were honestly just trying to keep from passing out where you stood. “—what about you?”

A pause. “I’m going to distract them to give you enough time to find help.”

Elaine lets out a whine when the voices come closer and hers is barely audible as you’re bracing most of her weight out the window, doing your best to get her as low as possible before releasing her when you hear their fists banging against the door. “Please don’t make me leave you. If something happens to you, Azriel will—“

“You’ll just have to trust me.” You can hear the door creaking from the strain and you’re certain you’ve gotten her as low as possible without falling out yourself when you begin to loosen your grip. “Run, Elaine. Run and don’t stop until you’ve found him.”

The door opens with a bang but you’ve already turned around, body blocking the window to ensure they can’t see the bouncing pink dress frantically dashing across the garden. The sword is clutched tight in your grasp when you see them and immediately your heart sinks; there’s a lot more of them than you’d anticipated and a sob threatens to emerge off the sheer size of them alone but somehow you remain strong. You’re not sure what possess you to speak, the sword raising in warning as you stare each one dead in their eye. “I’ll give you one chance to turn around and leave.”

“Or what?”

A cool resolve settles into your body, heart rate lowering and senses focusing until you could hear a pin drop from ten miles away. Shadows slink over your figure, two coating your hands and two more stabilize your ankles and it only takes a few seconds to catch onto what was going to happen—Azriel had trained them for this, trained you for this. “Or I’ll show you exactly who lives here.”

They don’t believe you for a second, though you do notice one squinting at the darkness beginning to enclose over your fingers and it’s like you have no control over your own body. Most of them try and fail to get a hit on you, shadows guiding your hands to slice and dig and swipe your foot under their legs until they fell to the floor with a thud.

It feels like a dance—one you had to perfect or die and you could scream thank you from the highest of mountains to the clingy shadows that lingered back from their master. Their cool aura over your skin is grounding as they bend you to their will, forcing your legs to break off into a run before jumping to wrap your legs around the intruders shoulders and you can hear the oxygen leaving his lungs when you squeeze. You can feel the burn in your core when you heave your body up, thighs still clamping around his neck when you slam your elbow once, twice, three times against the top of his skull before his body crumbles beneath you.

Your knees are on the floor when another comes for you, sword slicing through the air and a grunt leaves you when a shadow pushes you down to duck before the sword can take your head clean off. You allow them complete control, a puppet submitting to the string attached to them as blood smears your clothing and stains your skin. Your hair sticks to your neck, blood spraying as the shadows ensured every swing of your weapon landed in its target.

A cry pulls from your throat when you turn, eyes frantic as you search the space to find no one but yourself remaining but you can’t seem to let the sword go. There’s so much blood; crimson red pooling in puddles near each slain body and your head whips around when you hear more footsteps. “In there—she’s in there!”

“Elaine,” Your voice croaks out and you hear the steps go faster until Azriel is standing in the doorway with cruel eyes; intent to kill clear until he sees you and it all fades away. “Don’t let her look.”

He nods wordlessly, urging a breathless Elaine away with nothing more than a look and his voice goes soft when he sees your hands shaking. “It’s okay, sweetheart. You can let it go now.”

“She’s safe?”

“She’s safe, she didn’t stop until she found us.” Your shoulders relax at the words, body crumpling to the floor and he’s there to catch you before you hit the ground. You’re nose is buried in his chest, hands clutching at his clothes as the adrenaline subsides and your body begins to tremble but as Azriel holds you tight, muttering soothing words into your hair.

All he can do is look at the carnage.

The blood that stains your body but there’s not a single scratch. “Remind me never to piss you off.”

A laugh pulls free, the sound easing his worry and calming his rage. “I guess all that training came in handy after all.”

[leighsartworks216]

Perfect First Date

Zayne x fem!Reader

Had this idea and literally could not stop thinking about it

Warnings: fluff, blind date, first date, kissing

Word Count: 2,280

Main Masterlist

Love and Deepspace Masterlist

AO3

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A steady drizzle paints the world outside in a blur of shadows and diffused lights. Traffic lights are reflected on the wet pavement below, blending with the orange and white headlights of cars. People pass by the window, covering themselves with umbrellas or their jackets. A few didn’t bother trying to do anything to hide from the onslaught of water. You didn’t bring an umbrella. The thought of leaving now and having to walk through the rain like that sours your mood even further.

A waitress politely clears her throat. “Would you like to order now?” She gives you a pitying look, her smile tinged with sympathy.

You force one of your own in return. “Just a few more minutes, please.”

She nods and walks away. You just know she’s in the kitchen talking about you with the chefs and other wait staff. “She’s been waiting for an hour for her date. He’s never gonna show up! Poor thing.”

You sigh, leaning against your arms on the table. How are you gonna tell Tara about this? She was so excited to set you up on this date, gushing about how perfect you two would be together if you just gave it a shot. Knowing he never showed up would break her heart - maybe even more than it broke yours.

A familiar voice says your name. When you look up, you’re surprised.

“Zayne? What are you doing here?”

“My shift just ended. I thought this would be a nice place to get dinner before I head home.” He tilts his head toward the empty seat across from you. You nod immediately, just glad for the company after the time you’ve had. Once he sits, he takes a moment to look you up and down. “You look lovely tonight.”

You nervously pick at the corner of your cloth napkin with a polite half-smile. “Ah, thank you. Tara set me up on a date, but…”

He frowns. Before he can say anything, though, the same waitress from before comes over. She seems more upbeat. She must think this is your date, finally showing up after making you wait for so long. “Welcome! Can I get you anything to drink, sir?”

“Just water, thank you,” Zayne answers.

“Of course! Give me a moment and I’ll be back with a second menu for you.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it.” You smile reassuringly at her, having clearly startled her from her usual script. “He can borrow mine.”

She smiles and skips off back to the kitchen. Zayne grins slightly as you push the folding menu toward him. “Already know what you want to order?”

You huff a mirthless laugh, looking out the window again to avoid that look in his eyes as you say, “I’ve practically got the whole thing memorized. There’s a ‘Build Your Own Platter’ special on the second page.”

He turns the page over and, sure enough, the highlighted special greets him. “How long have you been waiting?” His voice is soft, like he’s worried about your answer.

You reach over the table for his hand. He raises an eyebrow, but he lets you take it without fuss. You turn his wrist until you can read his watch. “Uhh, almost an hour.” You let him go.

“Isn’t it common practice to leave after no later than 30 minutes have passed if the date doesn’t show up?”

You shrug. “I don’t know. I don’t really do this sort of thing.” You look at him again. Your smile doesn’t reach your eyes. It hasn’t since he got here. He notices right away. “And it started to rain, so…”

“So you thought he may have gotten caught up in the weather.”

“And I didn’t bring an umbrella.”

He gives you a pointed look. “You didn’t think to look at the weather for tonight? Despite knowing you would be going on a date?”

“Shush. I didn’t think about it.”

The waitress sets down a cup of water in front of Zayne. A lemon wedge is neatly tucked onto the rim. “Are you ready to order?”

Zayne gestures for you to order first. You recite the order you’ve had memorized this whole time, and she writes it down on a little pad of paper. Then he orders (not the Build Your Own Platter special), passing the menu to the waitress once she’s finished writing. She holds it to her chest and looks between the two of you. “Will you be paying separately or together?”

“Together-”

“Separately-”

You blink at Zayne, who smiles placatingly in return. “Together. It’ll be my treat.”

She leaves before you can defend paying separately. You shake your head. “You don’t have to do that.”

“Please. I see it as my duty to ensure you know how a man should treat you on a date.”

Your cheeks flush. You can’t quite meet his eyes as you tease, “You were also technically an hour late, then.”

“Hm,” he agrees. He picks up a card held in a twisted metal stand and holds it out to you. It contains a brief listing of ice cream sundaes, cheesecakes, molten lava cakes and more. “Would dessert make up for my tardiness?”

You smile. It finally reaches your eyes as you take the card from him. “It just might.”

-

As you talk about everything and nothing, the disappointment begins to ebb from your shoulders. Once the food arrives, it disappears entirely. For as long as you waited, the food was definitely worth it.

You forget about the rain, the guy that stood you up, and having to tell Tara what happened. The world seems to shrink to just this restaurant. Just this table.

Zayne may appear to be emotionless and cold to some, but not to you. You know him better than that. You see every slight smile that he looks away to try to hide. You see the playfulness in his eyes as you tease each other. You see him relax into the atmosphere you’ve created. You see the concern that sharpens his eyes when he scolds you for not taking care of yourself. You see… him.

It’s probably just because you two have been going to restaurants together more frequently in the last couple months, you think. Somehow, you both got into the habit of recommending places to each other - sweets shops, diners, cafes, bakeries, and restaurants like this. At first, you’d just tell each other about the place, saying they should visit. But then it became lunch breaks when he needed to be pulled away from work to take care of himself, and dinner when you needed to be convinced to stop working overtime.

It feels natural, sitting across from him and sharing a good meal. You try not to dwell on that thought for too long.

True to his word, Zayne pays for dinner.

“I’ll make it up to you,” you promise. “We can get lunch tomorrow. I’ll pay.”

He grins, knowing just how futile it is to argue with you. He has no choice but to agree. Still, he shakes his head slightly. “I never thought I’d be threatened with being treated to lunch.”

He holds the front door open for you, picking up his umbrella from the communal holder. The world seems to grow once more as you look out into the rain. You don’t have anything to protect yourself from it. You didn’t even think to bring a jacket.

Zayne steps halfway out from under the awning, his see-through umbrella open above him as he holds a hand out to you. “Come on.”

You blink at him. “What?”

“You said so yourself that you didn’t bring an umbrella. I’ll drive you home.”

“You really don’t have to. You’ve done so much already!”

He gives you a look. “All I did was chat with you and pay for dinner. Besides,” he takes your hand, gently tugging you under the umbrella with him, “I said I would show you how you should be treated on a date. Bringing you home in the rain falls safely under my duties.”

You sigh, but you don’t argue anymore. You don’t really want to walk through the rain anyway. You hold onto his arm as he leads you to the parking lot. “Should I make this up to you, too?” you tease. “Take you for a drive on my motorcycle?”

“I’d rather you didn’t.”

You laugh. He smiles at the sound.

-

The drive is quiet, but not unpleasantly so. Rain pats down on the roof and windows of the car, swept away by the windshield wipers. It’s heavier now, beating down in cold sheets. If you’d been walking home, you would’ve been soaked through to the bone just one street from the restaurant.

He pulls up to the curb and gets out first with his umbrella. Then, he rounds the car to your side and opens the door, holding the umbrella over you more than he does himself. A few drops of rain on his coat doesn’t make a difference to him.

You stick close by as he walks you to the door. “Thank you for bringing me home.”

“Of course. Now, get inside before you catch a cold.”

You smile at him and unlock the door with your thumbprint. “Goodnight, Zayne. I had fun.”

“I’m glad to have been a suitable replacement for your date tonight,” he remarks, a teasing edge to his words. He smiles. “Goodnight… I had fun, too.”

Something foreign and extremely familiar flutters in your chest at the look in his eyes. The way they look at you, the softness in his eyes that seems to take away years of exhausting surgeries and heartaches - it almost takes your breath away. The worst part is that you’ve seen him look at you this way before. Several times.

You can’t find anything else to say as you let yourself inside and gently close the door behind you.

You stand there for a moment, staring at the painted wood like it holds all the answers to your swirling thoughts. Your hand is still on the knob. You fear it may be too late when you’ve made your decision.

You swing open the door. Zayne has already walked down the front steps. He’s almost to his car. Your heart lurches as you rush into the rain after him.

The storm hasn’t let up since you arrived. The cold water that attacked his car on the way here now soaks your hair, your clothes, your skin. A shiver runs through you at first, quickly overshadowed by the fear of letting him go.

“Zayne!”

He turns around. That softness from before is replaced with concern as he hurries to meet you halfway to cover you with the umbrella. “Are you trying to get sick?”

“No, I…” God, you feel a bit stupid. But to back out now would be even worse. Your heart sits like a lump in your throat as you say, “It’s common practice to kiss your date when you say goodbye.”

The furrow in his brow eases up. You see his eyes flicker to your mouth briefly. “Is it?” he almost whispers.

You nod. “And if it’s your job to show me how I should be treated on a date…” You’re worried he can hear your heart. It’s beating so hard, pounding in your ears and blocking out the sound of the rain.

Zayne breathes a quiet laugh, but he nods. “You’re right. I apologize for my negligence. Allow me to make it up to you.”

Holding the umbrella steady, he cups your cheek with his free hand. His thumb brushes away a trail of water that comes from the hair sticking to your face. His eyes linger on your lips as he leans down. Even in this lighting, you can see the way his ears burn with blush. You’re certain you’re not doing much better.

His breath ghosting over your mouth is intoxicating, but the gentle press of his lips to yours is addicting. You grab onto his coat with wet fingers, slowly pulling him in closer as you deepen the kiss. He sighs. You think this is heaven.

He pulls away for air, before turning his head to the other side and kissing you again. And again. And again. You’ve far surpassed what’s appropriate for a first date kiss. But, is this really your first date together?

When he finally does pull away, his breath trembles slightly, like he’s overcome by the emotions shifting around in his chest cavity. You look up at him and he has to fight the urge to kiss you again. He huffs a soft laugh as he brushes the stuck strands of hair from your face. “I’d be a poor date if I let you stay in the rain like this any longer.”

You smile fondly. “You’re always worried about me.”

“Mhm.” He kisses your forehead, as though it could possibly release the weight of the love strangling his heart. “Come on, let’s get you inside.”

His hand rests on your lower back as he leads to your home once again. There’s a slight skip in both of your steps, a lovestruck sort of eagerness that guides you to your door. You unlock it again, but you turn to him this time, tugging on his jacket again.

“Stay.”

He turns his face away briefly, cheeks flushing. “That’s hardly appropriate for a first date.”

You laugh. “We don’t have to do anything. I just… want you to stay.”

He considers it for a moment. His eyes flicker across your face, searching for signs of an oncoming cold without even realizing it. When they meet yours again, he nods. “Okay. I’ll stay.”

---

Tag List:

@the-golden-jhope @deepzombieyouth @huen1ngk41 @armycaratlover @cheesemachine44

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

Copy that

Written for @steddiesmuttyseptember, week 3

Prompts: Lingerie & Sneaking Around

Words: 1,273

Rated: E

Tags: Office AU; Janitor Eddie; Junior Boss Steve; Secret Relationship; Semi-public sex; Steve in lingerie; Groping; Manhandling; Dirty talk; Dry humping; Inappropriate treatment of office equipment

Notes: Set in the same universe as this one

Eddie can tell what kind of day it'll be the second he walks into the office. Chrissy looks up from the files she's organizing on the reception desk and smiles ruefully.

“Hey, Eddie,” she calls. “Good thing you're here. The copy machine on the second floor is broken.”

“Jesus,” Eddie groans as he hands over her usual styrofoam cup of coffee. “It isn’t even nine yet and there’s another copier literally one floor above that. Did that not occur to those corporate dumbfucks?” 

She giggles and draws a breath to reply, but is interrupted by the phone on her desk ringing. 

“I bet that's Steve again,” she sighs.

Eddie’s stomach does a weird little flip. 

“Harrington Junior? I thought he was in New York this week.” 

She shrugs. “His conference got canceled. Listen, can you go check on this? I don't know why he needs those copies so urgently, but this is the fourth time he's called about it.”

As he steps into the elevator, Eddie wonders why he keeps putting up with this shit. He isn't being paid enough to deal with entitled tie-wearers who think the entire universe revolves around them. 

The second floor is still mostly empty, only a few miserable employees settling into their cubicles. At the sound of Eddie’s boots thudding closer, Steve steps out of the copying room, frowning and flushed pink with annoyance. 

“Yeah, whatever,” Eddie says. “I’m here now, aint’ I? No need to get your panties in a twist.” 

“Finally,” he snaps. “Do you have any idea for how long I’ve-”

Something twitches across Steve’s face, something that looks suspiciously like a smirk, but it’s gone as quick as it came as he grabs Eddie by the elbow to steer him into the copying room. 

While Steve clicks the door shut behind them, Eddie walks over to the copier. He peeps into the gap between the machine and the wall, sighs, and bends down to retrieve the pulled plug. 

“Seriously?” he asks. “Again? You need to start coming up with new excuses, because this is getting-” 

And that's as far as he gets before two large hands shove him against the machine and a warm, slick tongue pushes past his lips. Eddie hums a half-hearted protest and tries to pull out of the kiss, but Steve growls and grabs his face in both hands to hold him in place. The copier rattles as he wedges a leg between Eddie’s thighs. 

“Woah, princess,” Eddie gasps as those lips leave his mouth, blazing a hot trail down his jaw and throat. A look towards the door reveals three large cartons of paper stacked in front of it, but he doubts they'll withstand one or two hearty pushes. “Hold on. There's people out there, anyone could-”

“Better make it quick then,” Steve says, breath leaving warm puffs against the hollow of his throat. The seams of Eddie’s overalls groan dangerously as he yanks them off his shoulders. “If you'd have been here sooner, we wouldn't be in this situation. Now c’mon, or are you scared?” 

Eddie growls. Steve’s self-satisfied grin only serves to fuel his rage as he spins them both around and bends him over the copier. 

“I'll show you scared, you little brat,” he says, nudging Steve's legs apart and pinning his arms behind his back with one hand, the other opening his expensive leather belt with practiced motions. He bends and bites down at the base of that long neck, just long enough to feel Steve’s answering moan rattle in his own chest, then straightens back up and yanks Steve’s dress pants down in one violent motion. 

And then he freezes. 

Lace.

Steve Harrington's glorious ass is covered in shiny, delicate lace. It stretches over it in a pattern of pretty flowers and little hearts, golden skin and dark moles shining through the see-through fabric. 

It is red. 

Jesus Christ on a fucking motorbike. 

“What's the matter?” Steve asks. He's craning his neck to take in Eddie’s reaction, face unbearably smug and flushed as red as the lace of his panties. “You planning on doing something or are you just gonna stand there and catch flies?” 

“You might wanna get going soon,” Steve singsongs. “There’s people out there, y’know?” 

He rolls his hips, grinding his ass against the rapidly growing bulge in Eddie’s overalls. His pants slip further down as he does. There's garters. Red, lacy garters hugging thick, muscled thighs and Eddie is not going to survive, is he?

“Oh my God, you're such a slut,” Eddie mutters, and surges in. Steve moans again as he fists a hand into the hair at the base of his neck, pushing him face-first onto the copier. Eddie has a fleeting thought that it's simultaneously lucky and a pity that the thing isn't plugged in because man, those copies would be something to look at. 

“God, baby,” he growls, yanking Steve’s head up by the hair, forcing his back into an obscene arch. “You're gonna kill me one day, you know that?” 

“Hope not,” Steve gasps, fingers digging into the edge of the machine for dear life. Glass creaks and metal rattles as Eddie rocks his hips, grinding their bodies together. “I really like your cock.” 

Eddie laughs, the words igniting a firework of want low in his abdomen. Steve shivers under him as he blankets him with his weight, pressing him down against the hard surface of the machine so that he can whisper right into his ear. 

“Oh, yeah? That what you want, princess? Well, be my guest. I’m gonna stuff you so full, you’ll feel it all day. You gonna walk out of this room and back to your stupid meetings, and all you’ll be able to think of is how good it felt, getting fucked by me. How all you wanna do is go back and take my cock again, you greedy little-” 

“Steve? You in there? What is wrong with the door?” 

Steve is out from under him and on his way to the door before Eddie manages to fully process his shock. 

“Hold on a sec, Tommy! I think it’s stuck.” 

Steve smiles while he pulls up his pants and fixes his hair, like he has all the time in the world. Eddie is so busy bemoaning the loss of the panties and garters that it takes him a second to remember his own disheveled state. He has hardly shrugged back into his overall sleeves and pulled the zipper up when Steve shoves the boxes out of the way and Hagan from Sales stomps into the room, a stack of papers in hand and a scowl on his face. 

“Oh, sorry,” Steve says, full of genuine regret. “The copier’s broken. Eddie and I were just looking into it.” 

Steve shrugs exasperatedly. “I know, right? Looks like someone needs a refresher course on how to treat company property.” 

“Man, does anything in this company work?” Hagan grumbles, stalking past Eddie to flip open the lid of the machine. “Who the fuck did this? There’s cracks all over the place!”

Hagan groans, slamming the lid shut and turning back towards the door. “Whatever, I’m using the one upstairs. Oh, by the way, your dad wants you in his office. Something about New York?” 

“On it,” Steve calls after him. “Thanks for letting me know.” 

As he brushes past Eddie and out of the door, he shoots him a coy smile. “I guess we'll need to conclude this meeting later. Come to my office around lunch?” 

Eddie really, really isn't getting paid enough for this shit. Luckily, the job comes with other benefits. 

More smutty September

[inkspiredwriting]

Moving Day Madness

Five Hargreeves x Fem!reader

Warnings: none

Five Hargreeves and his wife, Y/N, were finally moving into their own house—a cozy two-story home with a charming garden. It was a new chapter in their lives, and they couldn't wait to start it. Naturally, Five’s siblings insisted on helping with the move, promising it would be a smooth and efficient process.

It was anything but.

The day started off with a series of minor disasters. Diego, ever the overachiever, decided to start unloading the moving truck himself. In his enthusiasm, he misjudged the weight of a box labeled "Kitchen Fragile" and dropped it. The sound of shattering glass was the first omen of the chaos to come.

"Diego!" Five shouted, running over. "That was our wedding china!"

Diego winced. "Sorry, Five. I’ll replace it, I swear."

Meanwhile, Klaus had decided that the best way to help was to "organize" the boxes. This meant he moved them randomly from one spot to another, making it impossible to find anything. Luther, trying to keep the peace, ended up in a shouting match with Klaus about the proper way to stack boxes.

Ben and Viktor were handling the smaller items but got distracted by an impromptu jam session with an old guitar they found in one of the boxes. Their music was great, but it wasn’t helping the move go any faster.

Y/N, trying to stay calm, directed traffic as best as she could. "Luther, please don’t stack boxes higher than Diego’s head. Klaus, stop moving things around. Diego, maybe you can help with the furniture instead."

As the morning wore on, things didn’t improve. The couch got wedged in the front door, with Diego and Luther arguing about the best angle to maneuver it through. Klaus spilled a carton of milk all over the living room carpet while trying to make coffee, and Viktor accidentally knocked over a bookshelf, scattering books everywhere.

"Why is this so complicated?" Five muttered, rubbing his temples.

"Welcome to life with the Hargreeves," Y/N said with a laugh, handing him a cup of coffee. "Just breathe. We’ll get there."

By midday, they managed to get most of the furniture inside, albeit not in the right rooms. The dining table ended up in the living room, and the bedroom dresser was in the hallway. Despite the chaos, there were moments of laughter. Klaus told ridiculous stories that had everyone in stitches, and Ben and Viktor's music provided an unexpected soundtrack to the day.

As the sun began to set, the Hargreeves siblings took a break, collapsing onto various pieces of mismatched furniture in the living room.

"I think that’s everything," Luther said, wiping sweat from his brow.

"More or less," Five replied, looking around at the disarray. "Thanks for your help, everyone."

"Anytime, bro," Diego said, clapping him on the shoulder.

"Now, who wants pizza?" Y/N asked, pulling out her phone.

As they waited for the pizza to arrive, the siblings gradually began to help put things in their proper places. By the time dinner was over, the house was still a mess, but it felt more like home.

Later that night, after everyone had left, Five and Y/N stood in the living room, surveying the chaos.

"Well, it’s a start," Five said with a chuckle.

Y/N smiled, wrapping her arms around him. "We’ll get it sorted. And we’ll have fun doing it."

Five kissed her forehead. "I love you, Y/N. Even if our life is a bit… unconventional."

"I love you too, Five. And I love our life."

As they settled into their new home, surrounded by boxes and memories yet to be made, Five and Jen knew they could do anything —with a little help from their wonderfully chaotic family.

[crescenthistory]

heeeyyyy I love your series with Barty! Can I request for a one shot where they weren’t dating already but the Yule Ball or some Ball is coming up and Barty asks reader to go with him and surprisingly they say yes? Love your work!

hey love! thank you for your kind works<3 i couldn't make the ball work with the timeline and everything, but i've written a hogsmeade dancing floor equivalent lmao

Words: 2.7k

Warnings: not proofread, fem!reader (she/her pronouns), no use of y/n, some suggestive flirting, bickering, featuring jegulus and most marauders era characters, dancing, pretending to hate each other

Note: this is set in the grumpy!reader/bickering series before reader and barty get together, so after part 1 and before part 2 and part 3 <3 not sure how i feel about this one

The Three Broomsticks was alive with music, chatter, and a constant hum of laughter. Tonight, every chair, booth and barstool was taken, every inch of the pub was packed with students, all celebrating the Hogsmeade weekend. The air was filled with a kind of rowdiness that had you wedged between Lily and Sirius, sandwiched in a booth that was definitely not meant for seven people.

Across the booth from you, James had his head turned not-so-subtly to the side, practically bending his whole body to get a better look at Regulus, where he was sitting at a table a few metres to your right. The Slytherin boy was not any better, giving James a shy wave that Barty promptly slapped away, with some offhand comment you couldn't hear.

Sirius, stretched out with his arms over the backs of the seats, ever making himself comfortable, looked displeased as he took in the sight. "Can they be any more obvious?" he muttered.

"Let them be," you drawled, half-amused, half-mocking. "Who knows, maybe it'll soften your baby brother's rough edges."

"As if." Sirius smirked, but his eyes softened just a bit.

Your gaze shifted to where Regulus sat, surrounded by friends – Evan and Dorcas in some animated discussion while Pandora seemed to be petting the wall beside her. Opposite Regulus was Barty, hands still all up in Regulus' space. Insufferable.

Even in the dimly lit pub, even in the middle of talking to his best mate, Barty's eyes found yours with the ease of somebody who had been looking far too long. He didn't move his gaze either, instead tilted his head with a smirk. You rolled your eyes, going back to chatting mindlessly with your own group of friends.

James, upon catching Regulus’ eye for about the fifth time in the past couple of minutes, threw his boyfriend a wink that caused him to practically swoon into his drink, promptly turning the colour of a ripe tomato. That was about when you couldn’t take it anymore. 

“Oh, for Merlin’s sake,” you said, barely able to hold back a snort.

“I know,” Sirius said, shaking his head. “They are simply so disgusting.”

“I can hear you, you know,” James huffed, but didn’t look too defeated as he smiled at Regulus once more. If you knew this is what him finally making a move would come to, you might have not encouraged him.

Lily chuckled, reaching over to give James a nudge. “It’s not disgusting, Sirius, it’s sweet. Not that you’d know what sweet looked like if it hit you over the head with a Bludger.”

“Well,” Marlene added, giving James a sly smile, “it is a bit too much on a rather empty stomach.” She leaned her chin in her hands, staring James down. “But seriously, how long do you reckon you two will keep up the pining act from opposite ends of the pub? You're dating aren't ya, go talk and stop making it everyone's problem.”

James opened his mouth to respond, but he was cut off by a loud, cheerful voice from beside the table.

“Why not ask him yourself?”

There, grinning like he had just won the Quidditch World Cup, was Barty, hauling Regulus close behind him, having decided it was high time to join in on the fun.

"I'd rather not," mumbled Sirius.

"Fantastic news that I wasn't talking to you then, Black."

There was no room for more people to cram into your little booth, but James solved that problem by promptly pulling Regulus onto his lap, ignoring Sirius' pained noise. The two of them immediately launched into soft, excited chatter, blissfully unaware of any and all proceedings around them from then on.

Barty, on the other hand, was still standing, and his gaze swept around the group, eventually landing on you with that familiar, aggravating gleam in his eyes. In this position, you see his t-shirt had its hem cut off and was riding dangerously high over his hips.

“Evening, Treasure,” he greeted with a lazy smirk, saying it with all the derision he could muster. “You look as miserable as always."

"Funny, I felt quite decent until you waltzed in," you shot back, barely looking at him.

"Was it because you were looking at me then instead?"

Lily furrowed her brows as she looked back and forth between Barty's flirty gaze and your tense expression. "Would that insinuate that you're decent to look at, but awful to speak to, Junior?"

"Yes," Sirius concluded before Barty could defend his case.

"I think decent to look at is a stretch," you mumbled into your butterbeer.

"Now we both know you don't mean that, Treasure." Barty winked at you, unaffected. "I'm happy to see you’re actually out tonight. Thought you’d be back in the library, plotting ways to charm your way through exams.”

“Only one of us has to charm our way through exams, Junior."

"Actually," Regulus for some reason beyond you, decides to chime in, reciting as if from memory. "He got 12 OWLs."

Barty just pointed at Regulus with a told you so look on his face.

Marlene let out a snicker at that. “Are you seriously fighting already? You've barely been here for five seconds." The last part was aimed at Barty, but the judgement in her gaze was for the both of you.

"You're acting like those old married couples who never shut up," Lily agreed.

“Oh, they wish,” Sirius chimed in, leaning in with a broad grin that dared you to disagree. “Unfortunately for Junior here, our dear friend hates him too much for that.”

Barty didn’t miss a beat. He leaned back, casually draping an arm across the back of the booth and raising an eyebrow at you. “You hate me that much, Treasure? I hadn’t noticed.”

You rolled your eyes, but there was no ignoring the way he was looking at you, with a glint of challenge and something that looked just a little like amusement. “Hating you isn’t something I’d exactly consider a challenge.”

“Oh, but I’m always up for a challenge, and I know you are too,” he said, smirk widening as he shifted closer. “Is that why you keep looking my way? To make sure I’m suffering from all that scorn?”

Your friends exchanged amused glances, most of them failing to hide their grins as they watched the exchange unfold. Even James and Regulus, paused to look your way.

"You are aware that me looking at your table does not equal looking at you, right? We were mocking Jamie here." You ignored James' soft hey at that.

“And," you added pointedly, crossing your arms in defence. "If I were to look at you it would only be to ensure you don’t do anything stupid, Junior. Though, I fear that’s a losing battle.”

Barty didn’t waver, even as your friends gave varying degrees of laughter, clearly relishing in his – and maybe your – misery.

“Please, Treasure. There’s only one losing battle here, and it’s you trying to resist me.” Barty’s voice dropped to a murmur, and his words sent a shiver up your spine despite yourself. You hoped no one could tell.

Sirius nudged Remus. “Taking bets. How many seconds ‘till she hexes him?”

Remus chuckled, holding up his fingers. “Ten, at best.”

You shot them both a glare, and Barty laughed, a low chuckle that drew your attention back to him. “Well, Treasure,” he said, his voice just as taunting as ever, “think you’re up for one more challenge tonight?”

“Oh, Merlin,” you sighed, though your pulse sped up, aware of his hand still too close on the back of the booth. “What now?”

He leaned in, his gaze sliding briefly to the newly assembled dance floor in the middle of the Three Broomsticks, where more and more people were swaying to the groovy song that was playing. He didn’t look back at you right away, just enough to let you see his grin widen as he nodded in the direction of the music. “A dance. If you’ve even got it in you.”

There was a moment of stunned silence around the table, then loud, unabashed laughter. Lily was grinning, Marlene and James looked beyond entertained, and Sirius gave Barty a pitying shake of the head.

“There's no way you even tried that, mate,” he said, with a shrug of certainty. “She'll say no. You’d have better luck asking Nearly Headless Nick.”

“Oh, I’m counting on her saying no,” Barty replied, that trademark smirk still firmly in place. His eyes were locked on you now, a challenge shining in them that made your skin prickle.

Everyone was staring, eyes flickering between you both, waiting for you to deny him. Yet, spite bubbled in your stomach at that faux knowing look in his eyes, teasing you with some power you knew he didn't hold over you.

So: "It's on." You raised an eyebrow, matching his smirk. “I’ll dance with you.”

Barty’s grin faltered for just a split second, his eyes widening almost imperceptibly, and the surprise on his face was worth every second of this ridiculous charade.

It spurred you on.

Remus gave you an almost concerned look as you crawled over Lily to get out of the booth and face Barty, making sure to keep your chin up. Your fists were unconsciously curled by your sides and Regulus eyed them curiously.

“Knew you’d come around.”

“No, you didn’t.” You looked up through your lashes at that, and you swore you could see him gulp.

“Oh, well, this should be good,” Sirius muttered, looking around the table as if anyone else could see what he was. Marlene and Lily seemed to be the only ones who exchanged a knowing look, sizing the two of you up as you squared up against each other.

Barty didn’t waste any time. He took your hand, dragging you toward the dance floor with that signature air of self-assurance that was always just a little too smug. The moment you reached the floor, he turned to you, one hand sliding to your waist and pulling you in with far more familiarity than you believed he had any right to. It bothered you even more how natural it felt to you.

“Look at that,” he murmured as you started to sway in time with the music, his voice barely audible over the crowd. “Didn’t think you’d actually say yes.”

“I like keeping you on your toes,” you replied, rolling your eyes as you rested your hands on his shoulders, a bit closer than you had intended.

"Tell me," he drawled. "Do you really hate me as much as you pretend?"

"Even more." You raised a brow at him as you moved surprisingly elegantly together. "And it's not pretend."

"Liar." The smile playing over Barty's lips was coy. He dipped you – unnecessarily, might you add – and the smile widened as his face got closer to yours.

"I can still walk away, you know." You held his gaze, refusing to back down from this odd challenge between you.

"You could," he relents knowingly. "But you won't."

Barty’s fingers tightened just slightly at your waist, his gaze sweeping over you in a way that sent a flash of heat to your face. “Seems to me like you enjoy this as much as I do.”

As I do…

“Please,” you scoffed, but you could hear the slight edge in your voice, and his knowing look told you he’d caught it. “I’m just proving a point. Watching you struggle to keep up is its own reward.”

“Is that so?” His smirk softened into something more intense, his eyes searching yours as you swayed closer together. “Because from here, it looks like I’m the one with the upper hand.”

"You're embarrassing yourself, Junior. Looking entirely too pleased with yourself."

"And you," he replied in a low voice, head dipping slightly to be more in your line of sight. "Look entirely too interested."

"You wish." It was less biting than you had hoped for.

Before you could think of saying anything more, any words caught in your throat as he spun you, his hand steady and warm at the small of your back. You stumbled slightly, and he caught you, his other hand moving to your waist to pull you close again. That slightly cropped shirt of his rode up, and a piece of his bare skin was pressed against you, heat emanating from it. You had to force your eyes to remain either on his face or the background. Your heart was racing, though you fought to keep your face composed, determined not to let him see how much he was getting under your skin.

You decided to play dirty as well, and moved your hands that were around his neck so that your fingers brushed the exposed skin there. You bit back a grin when you saw him shiver, just ever so slightly.

Pushing your luck, you let your nails dig just slightly into his skin, enough for him to know it was deliberate, and you felt his chest hitch a breath against yours. You desperately wanted to shut him up, and this seemed to be working.

The song began to fade, but neither of you moved, the rest of the crowd and your friends seeming to melt away as you held each other’s gaze. His eyes flicked briefly to your lips before settling back on your eyes, and you felt a thrill of anticipation that you couldn’t let yourself fall into.

Your handy eye-roll broke whatever tension was there as you took a half-step away from him, letting your hands just barely brush your chest as they fell back to your sides. His smirk never left, but this time there was something else in his expression – an intensity that hadn’t been there before, a softening around his eyes as they held yours.

It was almost nice. Until he ruined it of course. 

"So, we're like, lovers now, right?" he teased, cocking his head at you.

“Nice try, Junior,” you said, your voice deliberately cool. “It’s going to take a lot more than one mediocre dance to impress me.”

“Mediocre? I dipped you.”

“Mediocrely.” 

You found yourselves grinning at each other at that.

Something you couldn't quite place, and perhaps didn't really want to, flashed across his face. “Challenge accepted, Treasure,” he murmured, his voice low and promising. "We don't back down from those, do we?"

Before you could respond, he let your waist go – that you had not realised still lingered in his grasp after you dropped your own hands – and made a mocking bow before he backed several strides away from you, eyes glued to yours. He held his hands up in an I'm innocent gesture before cackling as he turned around to stroll back to his friends. You kicked yourself for still looking at him when he threw you a grin over his shoulder.

You let out a breath, from the total exhaustion that is sparring with Barty Crouch Junior, heart still pounding as you made your way back to your friends. Marlene was grinning like she had just witnessed the scandal of the century, and even Remus and Sirius were exchanging looks, barely holding back their amusement.

“Well, that was… intense,” Lily said, eyebrows raised as she made room for you and handed you your drink. You hopped in beside her, cracking your neck that had grown stiff with tension.

“Oh, please,” you said, waving her off as you took a sip. “He’s insufferable as always.”

“Yeah, yeah, we know,” Sirius said, over your antics for the night.

As you glanced across the pub, catching Barty’s eye for just a second, you couldn’t ignore the way he was looking at you, his gaze lingering with a knowing smile, as if he had managed to peel back a layer of you that you tried to keep hidden.

And from the other side of the pub, his eyes still on you, Barty didn’t look away, his smirk softened into something genuine, something just for you.

[revelboo]

It Had to Be You Pt 2

Megatron x Reader-spark

• Awareness washes through Megatron as his servos wrap around the tiny organic. Everywhere bare skin touches his metal flesh, its biofield soaks into him. Startling and strangely, soothing that ache he’s done his best to ignore for so long. Denta gritting, he wants to crush you in his hand, squeeze until he can’t feel this eerie sense of connection and aching familiarity anymore. Because whatever this is? It’s a threat.

• And it chains him even as he rages against it. Because this creature won’t, can’t, die by his hand. However he much he hates this newfound need, he can’t let it go now. Expression darkening, his face lifts to the fight raging on. Snarling under his breath, he tucks the alien inside his chassis, protoarmor crawling at the feel of something inside him as it just keeps making that awful, screeching. He’ll break it of that noise, but first- the Autobots.

• You’re trapped, the dark space you’re wedged in forcing you into an awkward hunch, unable to stand up straight or sit. It’s a coffin, your brain whispers as you pound your fists against the warm metal in a panic to get free. You feel like you can’t breathe and when the monster who imprisoned you begins to move, you’re battered against the walls of your prison. That building panic seizes you by the throat, vision flaring white then black as your head bangs off a wall.

• Beaten again by a Prime. Fury is a living thing inside him, as he grits his denta. How many times now? No matter how much he pushes himself, he can’t overcome the Matrix of Leadership and the unfair advantage it bestows on the Prime. The other name is just there in the back of his processor, but he won’t speak it, much less think it. That mech is long gone, twisted into a tool for the aristocracy. A Prime.

• Inside his chassis, the alien is silent, its cries having quieted during the battle. Still alive, though. He can sense its weak field washing into him in little, reassuring waves. That vague sense of peace that comes with the contact only makes him angrier. Maybe he’ll let Shockwave take it apart to figure out what this is. Some sort of defense mechanism?

• He doesn’t remove it until he’s safely ensconced in his own quarters, his army off tending to their wounds. It’s unresisting as he lifts it free, hanging limp from his servos and sluggishly leaking something red from a cut above its eye. Moving to put it down, he finds himself strangely reluctant to do so. It’s must be something it’s doing to him. Weakening him somehow as it snares him with this strange need to not break this contact.

• Sitting heavily on his berth, he uses the tip of a servo to nudge a limp arm. He’s seen organics before, fragile little things that never survive being caught in their war. There’s a vague guilt there, but it’s old and kept chained away in a dark part of his processor with all other weakness, with that other name that had belonged to a brother. The leftover vestiges of a miner named D-16. Megatron has no need for them. Carefully tipping its head to the side, he soaks in that odd, peaceful sense of rightness that touching the creature brings. Despite how soft and weak it is, it’s curiously shaped like a Cybertronian. Bipedal, two arms, and two legs.

• And even though he realizes it’s dangerous, he can’t set the alien aside. Can’t relinquish that strange need pulsing in his spark that insists this fragile thing is his. That this contact is right, even as it’s very wrong.

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I just want to write silly transformers nonsense, but my beta reader had to remind me that I do owe updates on two manuscripts- this story line is her fault. Trying to change gears between what I normally write and my for fun stuff didn’t go very well, but hey, I kept it SFW. I’m counting it as a win.