#unbetaed don't shoot me

[fayes-fics]

Skinny-Dip

2k Celebration Masterpost

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader, Modern AU

Summary: A chance encounter in a rooftop pool after midnight

Warnings: Nudity, flirting. banter. Nothing explicit.

Word Count: 1.0 k (250 words drabbles I am too funny)

Authors Note: Eleventh in my 2k Follower Celebration drabbles. This is a request fill for @musicismyoxygen84 with the prompt “I forgot my towel” (ask here). Sorry lovely, I have no idea where this came from, but I hope you don't mind it. Unbetaed. Enjoy! <3

“We have to!” you point excitedly at the rooftop pool.

“You’re on your own…”

“C'mon, it will be funnnnn,” you insist. “I'm not suggesting skinnydipping; just dip our toes in!”

“Nooo. Bed for me. Too tipsy, Enjoyyyyy,” she slurs and pats your cheek.

And thus, you find yourself, without your best friend, making your way outside to the rooftop pool at 1 am. 

When you get there, there’s a lovely gentle breeze and the lights of the city twinkle all around. It’s quite magical in some ways. Or maybe that's the wine talking.

You are humming to yourself, removing your shoes and sitting at the pool edge, when you belatedly realise you are not alone. Someone is already in the pool at the far end. It's a man, only his head above the water, and he appears to be looking over at you slightly sheepishly as if you have interrupted something that he shouldn't be doing. Now that you are paying attention, you can see he is rather handsome.

“Miss, please could you do me a favour?” his smooth, refined, posh really, voice rings out.

Your brow knits. “What?”

“I don't suppose you could pass me one of those, could you?” he requests politely, nodding to the rack on the wall behind you. “I forgot my towel.”

“Why can't you get one yourself?” you retort with alcohol-induced bluntness after a brief look behind.

“I wasn't expecting anyone else to come out here…” he begins, and there appears to be an adorable tint high on his cheekbones.

“So?” you shrug.

“Well, I had thought a skinny dip would be refreshing…” he confesses awkwardly.

And the penny drops.

“Ohhhh….” 

You can't help it; your gaze drops. But even with the pool lit underwater, you can't make anything out at this distance. Sadly. If only there weren't so much chop in the water, you might have a better ch…

“Don't you believe me or something?” he questions with a teasing lilt, and you guiltily snap your eyes back to his face and see the smug crooked smile there. He knows exactly what you were doing.

“Sorry, I… look, it's a natural reaction…” you throw your hands up, your tipsy brain not bothering to attempt a lie. “I’d do the same if you told me there was a plane in the sky. I’m going to look. It’s who I am.” 

“There is a plane in the sky,” he fires back deadpan, and you look up on instinct.

Sure enough, there are indeed some telltale blinking lights.

“Well, at least you were being honest.” he chuckles.

You stick your tongue out, and that makes him laugh harder.

“So… towel? Please?” he looks hopeful.

You lean back casually on your hands, knowing it pushes out your breasts, and cock your head to the side. This could be fun.

“That seems like a you problem,” you shoot back with a raised eyebrow. You want to see where this could go. If nothing else, it's a fun flirtation.

He gapes at you momentarily, and then he smirks.

“If I have to get out naked to get one for myself, it will surely become a you problem?” he opines, swimming towards you.

“I’m willing to run that risk,” you answer back, and there's a little frisson through your body as he draws closer, and you can see just how attractive he is. Oh shit, that is one handsome face.

“Well, I suppose I should introduce myself as you insist on seeing me in the altogether,” he states drily as he draws up right in front of where your feet dangle into the water. “I’m Benedict,” he offers as he stands up to full height in the water.

And for a split second, you just stare. Watching rivulets of water run from broad shoulders onto a smooth, toned chest smattered with freckles down to a tapered waist. Oh shit, that is an excellent body too.

“Y/n…” you respond, distracted, your tongue feeling heavier in your mouth.

“Nice to meet you, y/n.” The tone is warm, pitched lower and something in your gut flutters. 

“Likewise,” you respond, feeling a tug of a smile at the corner of your lips. “And for the record, I am not insisting on anything. You could stay in this pool until I am done dipping my toes, and then there is no need to show me anything,” you point out with a wry tone.

“And how long might that be?” he inquires, bemused, crossing his arms in a way that seems to intentionally enhance the muscle in his arms. Bastard.

“Ah, that's one of life’s great mysteries, isn't it?” you shoot back, feeling a glow spreading behind your ribs that this could be something. It's been a while since you flirted so easily with anyone, especially anyone this handsome.

“There is another answer to the dilemma here,” he offers, dipping back into the water and pulling up to your left side.

“I’m listening….” you gaze down at him, captured by his soft hazy eyes.

“If you were skinny dipping too, then we would be equally embarrassed,” he offers nonchalantly with a lazy smile, kicking his body out backwards, intentionally, so you can see that he is indeed very naked. And his bottom and legs are very shapely too. You are left in no doubt now, and the spike of endorphins through your bloodstream is exhilarating.

“Now there is an idea…” you flirt back and, throwing caution to the wind, push off your hands and slip into the pool. The cool water is a balm to your heated body, flush with excitement and possibility.

“You're still dressed,” he twists towards you and pouts, eyes sparkling, that killer lopsided grin returning.

“Am I…?” you volley back and raise an eyebrow as you peel off your top and throw it onto the poolside.

The look he shoots you is blistering, and you know, without a shadow of a doubt, you are about to tick ‘sex in a pool’ off of your bucket list. 

Benedict taglist: @makaylan @foreverlonginguniverse @iboopedyournose @colettebronte @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @margofiore @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @bridgertontess @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @angels17324 @broooookiecrisp @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @eleanor-bradstreet @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @benedictspaintbrush @miindfucked @sorryallonsy @lilithseve @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory @truly-dionysus @fictionalmenloversblog @zinzysstuff @malpalgalz @panhoeofmanyfandoms @kinokomoonshine @causeimissu @delehosies @mlovesbridgerton @m-rae23 @last-sheep

[anthonyed]

Tony's staring into space after 78+hours work bender and he's partly in but mostly out (somewhere cotton wool and smudged sky and a load of indecipherable 'er's).

He's got something in his hand - cool and metallic - and he knows he's sitting cause he lacks the energy to carry his body weight right now. He's slowly tuning back into reality when he realises just where his gaze is fixed at (spaced out or not).

Bucky Barnes sits in a corner, crouched in front of his toolbox, next to his unfinished motorbike, clearly working on its construction still.

Something flickers to life in Tony's body at the sight of another human in his space. I'm not alone, he thinks numbly.

A lot of things come rushing forth - all things heavy and unnecessary to be analysed in the kind of state he is in so he shoves them away hurriedly. This is not his pity party and he refuses to throw one despite what most of him demands.

He's old enough to dictate his life and pick his choices and he - he -

He needs a hug.

It's such a juvenile and pathetic desire that makes his breath hitch, takes him back to 17 when he bid Maria goodbye and saw her dead body in morgue next to Howard and fuck.

Fuck, what the fuck is happening to him.

He's so out of it that he startles violently when Bucky's hand lands on his shoulder.

"Woah," Bucky says, taking a step back. Eyes guarded and fixed slightly to the right of Tony's face.

Tony follows his stare and realises he's got a wrench in hand, held in an offensive stance. "Shit," he swears. Wrench slipping off to land with a clatter on the floor. "Shit," he swears again, looking down at it.

His brain is woozy, his palms sweaty and he's got goose bumps trailing down his neck. He's running on knee-jerk alert and coffee with helluva lot of touch starvation.

"Tony?" Bucky's voice comes in like a bad static underwater and Tony looks up.

His eyes fall short, somewhere around Bucky's massive shoulders and bare arms - he's got a tank-top on and all his guns out on display - with motor oil smudges and Tony sighs longingly.

He needs a hug.

He used to get them from Pepper but Pepper is neither here nor near and Tony really really wants a hug.

What makes it harder is that he knows all he gotta do is ask and Bucky would gladly give him that. But Bucky also got a crush the size of Pacific ocean on Tony and Tony doesn't want to exploit that. Even though Bucky doesn't know that Tony knows.

It's not right.

But they're also friends and - well. Friends can hug right?

Tony gulps. Okay, he decides. He looks up a little more until he meets Bucky's concerned eyes and he realises for real why he cannot do this at all. Why he cannot ask Bucky for that hug.

"Are you okay?" Bucky asks. He's worried as shit and it's so apparent that Tony laughs at him.

It's the maniacal part of him, he swears. The same part that makes him sway on his feet until he grabs onto the corner of his work desk as his knees give out on him. He lands painfully on his arse, even if it's on the bench. Small mercies, Tony thinks faintly.

Bucky comes down with him. All too willingly, on his knees and Tony really cannot do this right now. But nothing's been fair in his life in forty fucking years so when Bucky asks, "Hey, you need something?" he chuckles and blurts out "A hug, I need a hug so badly right now, I'd kill a fish with my bare hands."

Odd choices of words but the damage is done because Bucky is looking at him like he cannot believe his eyes now.

Tony has half the mind to snort and roll his eyes. He's got his mouth open to say "Don't look at me like that, snowflake," when he's wrapped in a very warm but damn, such a nice, honest-to-god good hug.

It snaps his mouth shut and his body melts on its own accord just as his arms move to wrap around Bucky's bulky torso.

He inhales deep and mumbles a small, "Tighter," into Bucky's neck.

His request is granted almost instantly. A little hesitation, but Tony is not going to linger on that. He hugs just as tightly.

Time passes.

He doesn't know how long they've stayed like that but it definitely feels short when Bucky starts to pull away. This is why, Tony thinks. This was exactly what he'd been afraid of - Why he decided to not ask Bucky for hug earlier.

Because -

"Wait," Tony panics, grabbing onto Bucky tightly.

Bucky freezes in his hold. Going all tense and he never signed up for this. He doesn't deserve this load but God, is Tony ever so selfish.

"Just a while more," Tony whispers. Please, he begs silently. "Don't pull away yet," and he scrunches his eyes shut tight, fists onto the back of Bucky's tanktop and he holds on.

Slowly, eventually, Bucky relaxes. He even returns the hug; holding on just as tight and he's so warm and perfect and Tony had dreamt of being this way with him so often for so long in the deep crevices of the darkest nights that he's afraid if he lets go, he'll lose it all.

This is why, Tony reminds himself. This was why he didn't ask for that hug earlier. Because once he'd got Bucky in his arms, he won't be able to let go. Ever.

[shame-is-a-wasted-emotion]

This is my first Klaine advent 2022 entry and the last too for this year. I wanted to write fic(should have been a drabble but my mind doesn't shut up) for quite a while and I wrote now. This is unbetaed and mistakes are mine. The Romeo and Juliet's lines were taken directly from the script available online, suggested by the wonderful @caramelcoffeeaddict . Those lines along with the narration are intalicized. My English is not great, no apologize.

Day 15: pump

Juliet's Boudair

Blaine's black boots clanked rhythmically through the apartment's door, thanking every soul of his great escape from the skin biting cold weather outside. The warmth of their apartment spread even in this front hallway as he opened the door, much to his liking. He was home. He was back to the comfort of his home.

He hastily removed his black boots, which were now wet after a big battle between the snow filled ground the boots. His bare feet finally laid on the wooden flooring. It was icy cold but not too cold like outside. He dropped his key, carefully pulling his nag's strap from not falling and removed his gloves, finally rubbing his aching palms together.

"Honey! I'm home!" he called cheerfully with a loud voice. He was a little disappointed with the lack of response that usually greeted him.

"Kurt?"

He couldn't hear his husband.  All he heard was a myriad of vessels rustling against each other.

Blaine  knew what exactly was this. He gently pulled his shoulder bag, filled with creative gifts from his students at school. It was the last working day before the winter break and Blaine rushed home with a profound enthusiasm to show all those pretty gifts his kids showered him with.

He passed across the gorgeously decorated living room with the cherry of season vibes and entered the kitchen. There was his lovely husband, bent down and going through the vessel arranged in the  rack.

"Kurt? What are you doing?"

He didn't utter any word. Blaine went proximal to him and stood behind him.

"Kurt honey?"

Kurt turned behind, his eyes crying about something. He was a real embodiment of a pre- mature nervous breakdown and anxiety.

"Nothing. How was your day?" he asked, trying not to break in front of him. Blaine was not buying it.

He gently placed his hands on either shoulders of his husband and pulled him closer.

"Honey, you know I can read you.  My day was good. I am very concerned about yours."

Kurt was dumb struck for a minute, fixing his gaze into Blaine's eyes.  His husband  has a pair of very gorgeous, lemon drop like eyes. His heart seemed to have  pumped every single drop of blood. He could feel the heartbeat in his head.

"You know you can tell me anything Kurt."

Kurt pulled his husband into a comfort hug. He finally felt like a small burden was raised from his heart.

"You know that I have an audition in 2 weeks, don't you?" he whispered.

Kurt could feel Blaine nodding his head. 

"I don't think I am ready for that. I am not ready for it."

Kurt pulled suddenly and looked away.

"But why do you think?"

"I will never be ready for Romeo.*

"Kurt?"

"I can't do this, Blaine" he bursted out finally , shooting flames at his husband.

"I can't keep lying to myself,  Blaine. I auditioned for Tony in school and I didn't get it. I am going to get it now. I am not masculine enough."

Blaine's lips parted. His husband clearly needed an intervention.

"Screw this audition. I am not doing."

He tried to walk away when Blaine tugged his hand.

"Kurt, if you walk away now, the world would be missing a wonderful Romeo."

"They won't ,Blaine. There are better Romeos and Tonys in the world. I am not one."

A single drop of tear rolled on his porcelain cheek. Blaine held his closely, allowing his to wet his shoulder.

"Kurt, you don't know what they are missing. Highschool days are gone. I know I shouldn't say this because I got Tony. But if you give me a chance now, I can prove how my husband possesses a beast of masculinity enough for Romeo in him."

"How?"

Blaine wiped the tear with his thumb pad. He dragged him to the living room.

"Alright. We are going to practice your audition scene.  I'll be your Juliet and we are going to recreate the scene."

"Are you kidding or are you nuts? I am not doing this."

"I am challenging you , Kurt Hummel- Anderson. If you do this scene now, I will buy you anything you want. Even that expensive Gucci jacket."

"Really?" Kurt's eyes dilated in zeal. Blaine knew how to find his way.

"Yeah."

"Alright," he finally said. Blaine took the script paper lying on the coffee table.

"This is Act III scene V. Alright, Give me a minute. You can get ready with your props by then."

Kurt pulled his handmade feathered beret and spread a red velvet cloth on the floor by the time Blaine skimmed through the dialogues.

"I'm ready, Kurt. Shall we start?"

Kurt nodded nervously.  Blaine got down on the cloth, besides Kurt.

"Kurt, I am not Blaine now. I am Juliet. I am YOUR Juliet."

Blaine closed his eyes and pictured himself as Juliet. He got into the head space of Juliet  and laid beside Kurt.

Kurt scooted closer and laid next to him, positioning his forearm around Blaine. Blaine's eyelashes fluttered as a gesture of yes.

Romeo straightened himself from his laying  position and Juliet raised suddenly from her bed as she watched her Romeo leaving. She pulled his hand, wanting him to stay. Romeo's gaze shifted to his lovely Juliet.

"Wilt thou be gone? it is not yet near day:

It was the nightingale, and not the lark,

That pierced the fearful hollow of thine ear;

Nightly she sings on yon pomegranate-tree:

Believe me, love, it was the nightingale"

Her hand rested firmly on his chest, trying desperately to convince him. Romeo faced Juliet, his eyes filled with love and determination.

"It was the lark, the herald of the morn,

No nightingale: look, love, what envious streaks

Do lace the severing clouds in yonder east:

Night's candles are burnt out, and jocund day

Stands tiptoe on the misty mountain tops.    10

I must be gone and live, or stay and die.

Blaine was mesmerised by the way Kurt embodied Romeo. With the drop in his voice and his fast dialogue delivery, he really felt like Juliet.

"Yon light is not day-light, I know it, I:

It is some meteor that the sun exhales,

To be to thee this night a torch-bearer,

And light thee on thy way to Mantua:

Therefore stay yet; thou need'st not to be gone."

Juliet's eyes were filled with tears, threatening to fall. She wanted her love to stay even more. No light was convincing him that it wasn't daylight. Juliet tugged his vest more, her eyes determined into his gaze.

Kurt was pumping his lines seamlessly. Blaine was really about to tear up. He would be glad if he could be his Juliet for the rest of his life.

Romeo shifted to his knees, cupping the hands of his Juliet with his hands.

"Let me be ta'en, let me be put to death;

I am content, so thou wilt have it so.

I'll say yon grey is not the morning's eye,

'Tis but the pale reflex of Cynthia's brow;   

Romeo's hands rested on Juliet's waist, assuring certainty in every breath.

Juliet knew she could never convince him but her heart was overwhelmed by his love for her. He could even die for her and the world would never be able to stop . That was enough.

"Nor that is not the lark, whose notes do beat

The vaulty heaven so high above our heads:

I have more care to stay than will to go:

Come, death, and welcome! Juliet wills it so.

How is't, my soul? let's talk; it is not day."

And Romeo cupped Juliet's face and placed a breathtaking kiss on her lips.

Kurt held Blaine firmly and kissed him like tomorrow didn't exist. Blaine pulled Kurt onto him and kissed him passionately. They continued till the demand for oxygen separated them. They blushed and stayed laying beside each other.

"See? I told you. My husband can pull Romeo like no one's business. If he wants me to be his Juliet for the rest of my life, I'll gladly be."

Kurt shifted, facing Blaine.

"Blaine, are you crying?"

Blaine got up and looked away from Kurt, trying to hide his tears shyly.

"It's nothing. That was just the intensity of your Romeo hitting me."

Kurt pulled Blaine's face and wiped the stray tears , chuckling softly.

"You know how this play ends, right?"

"Oh damn! I didn't think about it," Blaine came to realization.

Kurt chuckled again and connected his lips to Blaine's for a chaste kiss.

"I don't want you to be my Juliet. I love my Blaine being himself rather than Juliet."

Their chests touched with heart beats trying to synchronise.

"So, the Gucci?" asked Blaine.

Kurt cupped his face.

"That can wait, honey. This is our play time."

"Play? What play? And who wrote it?" Blaine played with him.

"Me. Stage location: bedroom or here, if you will. Play name: Our lovemaking time."

Blaine bursted out in laughter and Kurt smiled.

"You adorable dork!"

"And I am your Dork!" Kurt winked micheviously.

Blaine pulled him dearly for their lovely long night. There was no other way. "Romeo and Juliet" might have ended but not their play.

Let me know your opinions on:

[isamijoo]

Accident

Written for @drarrymicrofic prompt 'star-crossed', which means 'thwarted by bad luck'. Word count: 1111. Rating: General. Features Quidditch Player Harry, while Draco is a chemist/potioneer/pharmacist at St Mungo's. Warning tags: Physical / Quidditch Injuries. Set at Emergency/ER Department.

This is actually part of something longer I wrote for H/D Owlpost that I abandoned to write something else. But I liked this first scene so I'm sharing it. Unbetaed so all mistakes are mine. Please enjoy!

///

The last sensation Harry remembered before he blacked out was the flutter of the snitch's wings against his fingers and the feel of the golden sphere in his fist.

He realised later, upon waking up on a hospital bed surrounded by teal curtains, that in his desperate haste to catch the snitch, he had overreached and fallen off his Firebolt 360.

Everything was too bright even before he opened his eyes. He turned his head to the side with a groan. He raised a hand to cover his face, but the motion caused a sharp pain to shoot from his left shoulder.

His yelp of pain attracted the attention of the medical staff. A mediwitch shoved the curtain aside and hurried to his side.

"Please don't move, Mr Potter," she implored. Her face came into focus when she peered at Harry, who realised that he wasn’t wearing his glasses. "Can you tell me where it hurts?"

It wasn't just his shoulder. He was hurting everywhere. Unable to give a verbal response, Harry shook his head.

The witch frowned. "You need potions. Please wait here for a moment. Don't move," she repeated before backing out, leaving the curtain open.

The curtain must have been laced with Noise-Repelling Charm; it had been quiet when Harry first gained consciousness but now, with the curtain pulled back, Harry's head hurt from the loud noises.

He tried to distract himself from the pain by thinking about the match. He was sure his team had won the game. His team's score was ahead of the opponent's when he first located the snitch and dove straight for it. He had a reason to finish the game as soon as possible. Harry had something very important tonight.

Speaking of that, what time was it?

He was still wearing his Quidditch uniform. He found his wand in its usual spot (in a holster strapped to his thigh) and cast a Tempus. It was half-past five o'clock. Good. Good. Now he just needed to get home and get ready before seven—

"Mr Malfoy!" the earlier Mediwitch's voice exclaimed from outside the curtain, snapping Harry out of his thoughts. "Thank goodness you're here. That patient has been prescribed with Skele-Repair and painkillers. We're short-handed at the moment. Could you please—"

"Thank you, Laila. I have the prescription right here," the voice that often featured in Harry's dreams replied. "Let me handle it."

Draco Malfoy pushed back the curtain and sauntered in, carrying a leather satchel and a clipboard. Harry couldn't see his face clearly, but he recognised that shade of blond hair and stiff posture anywhere.

Harry tried to sit up but stopped when Malfoy snapped at him, "Don’t move!”

Harry could only stare at the ceiling as the blond drew the curtain, cutting off the noise. Malfoy’s blurry figure moved to the bedside table near the head of Harry’s bed. There was a clattering sound of glass bottles clinking together.

Then Malfoy leaned over him and pushed his glasses onto his face. Harry’s senses were assaulted by the musky scent of Malfoy as he blinked to adjust his vision.

Now he could stare at Malfoy properly. The blond's grey eyes were glaring at him, pink lips twisted in exasperation. The harsh light made his hair appear white, and his yellowish green robes took on an unsightly hue.

“I’m amazed you're still in possession of all your limbs,” Malfoy huffed, reaching into his satchel. He worked as he talked, placing a ceramic cup and a couple of multicoloured vials onto the bedside table. He emptied the vials into the cup and stirred the concoction with a glass rod. “A fifty-meter drop! A concussion! Soft tissue injuries all over! At least five closed nondisplaced fractures!”

“I’m sorry,” said Harry.

Malfoy rolled his eyes before casting a spell at the cup. Nodding at the results, he took another small vial from a pocket of his robes. “Painkiller Potion,” he clarified, holding a dropper that contains pink liquid above Harry’s lips. “Open up.”

Harry obeyed, gulping when the potion slid down his throat. Within several seconds, the pain all over his body diminished down to a more tolerable level. He attempted to sit up again, but Malfoy’s hand on his chest pinned him in place.

“Shh, slowly,” Malfoy murmured. He slipped a hand under Harry’s head and held him as Harry drank the potion from the ceramic cup. The brew cooled Harry’s throat and sent a numbing chill throughout his body.

“Better?” Malfoy extracted his hand and put the cup away. He returned to Harry’s side and sat on the mattress, the tension gone from his shoulders now that Harry had taken his potion.

“Yeah, thank you,” Harry said, finally able to sit up and look at Malfoy at the same eye level. “I thought your shift ended at five?”

“It did.” Malfoy shrugged. “But then I heard Harry Potter is at casualty after falling off his broom during a Quidditch game,” — he narrowed his eyes at Harry when he said all this— “and I know my expertise is needed.”

“Thank you,” Harry said again, smiling as he reached for Malfoy’s hand. “You know, there’s still time. If we leave now—”

Malfoy squeezed Harry’s fingers before letting go. “Forget it, Potter. You were injured. And you just finished a game. Get some rest.”

“But.” Harry’s body stiffened in protest. “But I’m really serious about going on a date with you tonight. I even caught the snitch today in record time.”

The corner of Malfoy’s lips twitched as though stifling a smile. “Congratulations.”

Harry’s shoulders sagged. “Are you angry with me?”

Malfoy hesitated for a moment. “I may have been looking forward to our date as well,” he admitted, avoiding Harry’s eyes. “I should have known something would go wrong.”

“Hey, I didn’t want this to happen.” Harry pouted, affronted. “Do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted to ask you out?

“Perhaps you can tell me next time,” Malfoy said before standing up. “Let’s cancel tonight, Potter. Go home and rest.” He pulled out a piece of parchment from his satchel and handed it to Harry.

“What’s this?” Harry studied the parchment, which had rows of names and columns with dates for the entire month. Malfoy’s name had been circled with red ink.

“My work roster. So you’ll know when I’ll be free,” said Malfoy. “For a date.”

Harry could only grin at Malfoy before his teammates made an appearance. Amidst the greetings and back-slapping and cheers, Malfoy disappeared past the curtains. But with the other wizard's roster folded neatly in his hands, Harry was assured that he would see Malfoy again.

[maximumninjavoid]

Mining for Unobtanium ch 37

Under 18? Go away.

Think that pay wall Tumblr is a great idea? Go FURTHER away.

NSFW, secks, unbetaed, posted on my phone so sorry for the shite formatting too

Time, time and again I see you staring down at me

Now, then and again I wonder what it is that you see

With those angry eyes

Well, I bet you wish you could cut me down

With those angry eyes

You want to believe that I am not the same as you

And now I can't conceive, oh lord, of what it is you're trying to do

With those angry eyes

Well, I bet you wish you could cut me down

With those angry eyes

What a shot you could be if you could shoot at me

With those angry eyes

You and I must start to realize

Blindness binds us in a false disguise

Can you see me through those angry eyes?

You try to defend that you are not the one to blame

But I'm finding it hard, my friend, when I'm in the deadly aim

Of those angry eyes

Well, I bet you wish you could cut me down

With those angry eyes

What a shot you could be if you could shoot at me

With those angry eyes

He reached for me. That huge hand, connected to that big ass bicep, that impossible shoulder, all coming toward me at the speed of imperceptible light and I ‘eeepped’. I couldn’t help it. You try facing that down, see how you do, knowing he is……….. Displeased. Hey, to my credit, I didn’t run, nor did I pee myself. I mean, for an instant, those ~may have been options~. Dishes went flying off the day bed and my face went into the covers. He had a grip on the hair I did have; just enough to grab, apparently and I heard the teeth of his zipper. My pha biang was wrapped around my elbows down to my wrists and it seemed as though resistance was futile.

He slid between my thighs and entered me. I felt every massive inch of his girth and my traitorous body stretched to accommodate him. God, I was already wet. This was no romantic “oh baby I have missed you love making”. I would best describe this as a grudge fuck. Ruthlessly he pounded into me, punishing my pussy, grabbing my hips to get a better angle, thrusting deeper, harder, chasing his release knowing I was just twisted and bent enough to be enjoying the daylights out of this as well. 

“ Damn you. You RUINED me. She. Wasn’t. YOU.” Each word was punctuated with a thrust that slammed into my cervix and knocked the breath out of me. He pulled up on my hair and bit my neck where it joined my shoulder. “ and then you made. Me. Chase. You.” More punishing thrusts. My lizard brain wondered how long he could keep that up and my wizard brain hoped he kept going despite the fact that I knew I was going to be sore as all get out. 

“ Henry….”

“ Don’t . You. DARE !”

“ Daddy………..”

He stopped; fully seated in me as far as he could go, somewhere in my lower rib cage. I felt him shudder, and he wrapped his arm around me and pulled me to him so his chest was touching my back, fused as one entity, his legs on top of mine. I felt his cock pulse and thick ropes of cum fill me, and he collapsed on top of me spent. I really missed this weighted blanket of a human.  I tried to move my arms and couldn’t and he sensed my wriggling and loosened my pha biang and tossed it aside. “ I am less angry. “ “ Well that’s good to know” “ I really should shove my cock into that smart mouth of yours” “ if that pleases you….” “ Cheeky” “ it’s a character defect, I’m working on it”. We laid there a while, and I guess Ganesha left because I broke the silence and asked him if he wanted to talk about it yet. 

“ It was so much like that stalker. She hunted me down, you know? It seemed so calculated.”

“ Well, you hunted me down………”  “ it’s not the same thing” I waited for more.

“ She was looking for a way to enhance her career, I think. It wasn’t really about me. And that’s the part that hurts the most. I didn’t see it. How did I miss that?  That’s what I need you to teach me. I keep making these disastrous choices, and you are the one who sees me, who I am. And I know, intellectually, that you couldn’t stay but I still get to be angry about it. And when you leave again, I have every intention of being furious again, you know”.

At least he knew I was going to leave again. I nodded. "You lead with your heart. I don't want to teach you not to do that. That would be criminal. I couldn't be a party to that…" 

He laid out the plan, a day or two to center ourselves in Nepal, then shopping in Bangkok. "Shopping?" I asked. "Well you can't be traipsing after me dressed like a Thai native, I do have an image…" I threw back my head and laughed. "Oh, I get to be the image consultant. And I shall be just left of all the way the fuck out there. Think Tilda Swinton meets David Bowie but very 80's...highly eccentric, I think." I got the one raised eyebrow and a smile. 

"Now, darling boy, if I might be so bold as to request some reciprocity? I believe I am down an orgasm or two…. *

" My Lady…. " he said as he kissed his way down my torso" what is it you're fond of saying? I live to serve? "

[bella-ca]

Bound: A TRR AU

Mireya has always known she was different. She just didn’t realize how much. Upon her 18th birthday she gets information that will forever change her life. The stuff of her nightmares is reality. The things that go bump in the night really do exist. It’s up to her and her family to fight these monsters. Her life will never be the same. What happens when she falls in love with one such being? Will she live up to her legacy or become what she hunts?

A/N: I was away for awhile taking care of a few personal issues thank you for your patience.

My muse kept telling me this story needs to be told. I love anything related to supernatural/horror beings. This is a TRR love story. It is a slow burn. This is unbeta. All mistakes are mine. I hope you enjoy.

Disclaimer: All characters belong to choices by Pixelberry. I’m just borrowing them. Same with the pics they are not mine.

Warnings: violence, cursing, murder, revenge, death. By reading you are acknowledging you are at least 18 years of age.

Word count: 1,281

Masterlist

Chapter 4

Present Day

You head home going straight for the shower. Eager

to wash the blood and dirt off your body.

After your shower, you decide to get some food. You

get in your SUV and drive the 5 miles to your new

favorite diner. On the way there you pass by the diner

you used to hang out at with Josh and Alex. You feel

that deep ache in your heart every time you thought

about them. 7 years had gone by and the pain is still

the same. You never celebrated your birthday

anymore. The pain of them dying on that day was too

much. Instead you would visit their graves on your

birthday and drink at home until you passed out.

After eating at the diner, you go to get in your SUV

when you get the feeling you are being followed. You

quickly get in and quickly drive home. You only get a

few miles before you hear a loud pop. You slow the

car down. fucking great just what you need.

You pull over and get out of your car. Sure enough

you have a flat. You look at your surroundings. You

are alone on the road not another car in sight. It is

pitch black but the full moon makes it a little easier

to make out the forest around you. You go to get the

spare out of the car to change the tire. Your dad

taught you how to change a tire as well as minor

upkeep for your vehicle. You smile as you think back

to what he used to always say “never depend on

others Mireya, the only person who you can depend

on is yourself.”

You grab the jack from the trunk and you get the

familiar shiver telling you someone is watching you.

You quickly grab your gun, loaded with silver bullets

from its holster on your thigh and turn around. You

can hear movement in the bushes. It sounds like

more than one of them. You hear a growl and then

you smell them. The same rancid smell that makes

your stomach turn. You see the glowing eyes. You

hear growls and you aim toward the sound. If it’s a

fight they want, a fight they will get.

“Come on you bastards!” You yell.

You see two of them coming towards you. You fire

shooting one of them in the heart. It falls to the

ground dead. The second one ducks out of the way

and comes at you again. You shoot again getting it in

the thigh. It howls before regaining its composure

and starts limping away. “Leaving so soon?” you say

as you start to chase it. It runs off to the middle of

the forest. You shoot it in the back and it howls again,

falling to the ground. You approach and once its

close enough you shoot it in the heart. As you go to

collect the body you hear a voice behind you.

“Reya”

You turn around and see Nicholas. “Only my friends

call me that and you are not my friend you bastard!”

you tell him as you walk toward him aiming your gun.

You fire but he ducks out of the way. Then suddenly

you are surrounded by werewolves. Nicholas lets out

a chuckle. “Poor Mireya. Not even you can take on all

of us.” He says with a smirk. He waves his hand and

they descend. You start to fire and you feel a sharp

prick of a needle. Looking over you see a dart gun in

Nicholas’ hand.

“Fuck you!” you tell him right before you black out.

7 years ago

You look at your dad while you process everything he

just said. He grabs one of the books and hands it to

you. You look at the cover. The words Familia

Villalobos on it in Silver.

“You come from a long line of hunters. The

Villalobos name was well known throughout history.

It was a name that was once feared, but although we

hunt werewolves, we are also hunted by them.”

“But dad, I thought our last name was Castillo?” You

say confused. It is your mother’s last name. We

changed all our last names to Castillo to protect you

and your sister. You are a Villalobos. Look thru the

book Mireya, there will be the answers you seek.” He

kisses you on the forehead and leaves. You go to your

room the book in your hand.

In your room you open the book and see a list of

names starting with a woman named Luna

Villalobos. She was a very powerful witch. According

to the story, she was in the woods with her lover and

they were attacked by werewolves. Her lover died.

Luna was injured but she lived. She was hellbent on

revenge. She cast a spell to bind herself to the

werewolf that killed her lover. She used dark magic

and gave up her soul in exchange for abilities for

herself and anyone in her bloodline to hunt and kill

these beings.

You close the book your mind swimming with all the

new info you just received. This was just too much.

First werewolves and now witches? All the stories, all

the legends were true? Whats next? Vampires? You

get up and start to pace. At least you know now it

wasn't just hormones. You spend the rest of the

night reading the book.

2 years ago

You spent the last 5 years training with your dad. You

far surpassed him which didn’t surprise him.

“Dad, if we have the same blood, how can I now beat

you so easily?” Your dad looked to you quiet for a

second.

“I don't know, maybe because Luna was a woman, all

of the females may be stronger than the males of our

line.” He says looking away briefly.

You could tell he was holding something back and

when you asked, he would change the subject so you

let it go. After training, you would go back to your

apartment and you would spend your free time

looking for Nicholas but have only gotten small leads

that never really went anywhere. You often thought

of the handsome man with brown eyes. Who is he?

How did he know you? Why did he warn you? You

couldn't find anything on him either. Everytime you

thought of his face, his body, you would feel heat in

your core. What you wouldn't give to find him, hold

him, kiss him. You shook away those thoughts and

got ready for bed. When you sleep that night, you

dream of him and his deep brown eyes.

The next day is family night. It’s your moms turn to

pick a movie. She puts on her favorite love story. You

hate watching romance movies, but the story is

sweet and reminds you of the love your parents have

for each other. Not only that, but Keanu‘s handsome

face makes up for it. You definitely had a type. Tall,

dark and handsome….yes please.

After the movie, you all lounge about outside on the

patio. Your dad is grilling as usual. As you are

finishing up eating it gets dark out and you see the

full moon. You start helping your mom pick up so you

all can head inside when you hear a howl. You and

your dad look at each other.

“Everyone, inside now!” he yells grabbing his gun.

You all run inside. Your dad locks the door. You run to

the basement to grab a gun. As you grab an extra

magazine of bullets you hear glass breaking and your

mom scream.

Chapter 5

Thank you for reading!! Reblogging and comments are appreciated. It will keep me motivated to write 💜💜

If you would like to be added or removed from the tag list, let me know.

Bound Taglist:

@bobasheebaby @itsstillnotwhatyouthink @hopefulmoonobject @alj4890 @super-secret-fandom-blog @thequeenofcronuts @indiacater @katurrade @furiousherringoperatortoad

[fayes-fics]

Balnea Interruptus

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem! reader, modern AU

Summary: Modern AU. Benedict barges in on you taking a bath

Warnings: 18+ smut, minors DNI, drunken people, drunken confessions, fingering, vaginal sex, bath sex, some verbal sparring, a smidge of humour.

Word Count: 1.6k (urghhh, godammit Faye, that's not a blurb)

Build a Blurb Prompt: Benedict 👹smut 👥friends to lovers 🍻drunk confessions 🛀shower/bath sex

Authors Note: 1k follower celebration fic. Here I go, getting carried away and breaking my own damn rules right out of the fucking gate. I got this one earlier today and let's say I got inspired shall we? Yes lets. Also sorry for the lethal picture, I needed one with a light blue shirt, okay? Unbetaed. Enjoy! <3

“What the fu…!!!” you squeal as the door flies open and slams against the tiles.

You were quietly sitting in your oversized bath after a long, hard day at work. Soaking away your troubles amongst some bubbles and drinking a second glass of bubbly, just the right side of tipsy and relaxed. Or at least you were.

You heard your flatmate El come home with some people but didn't expect this invasion. You really should have checked that you locked the damn door. But then there is another bathroom they could have used; this is your private en-suite off your bedroom.

“Oh, shit… sorry,” it's a slurred, delayed reaction. He’s definitely inebriated. But he doesn't move; he's just leaning on the door, hand wrapped around the door handle. “That looks comfy,” he adds, a stupid but attractively goofy smile on his face.

Benedict bloody Bridgerton, just what you don't need right now. The owner of problematic blue eyes and a handsome lopsided grin. The occasional guest star of your masturbatory fantasies, not that you would admit it, even to yourself, let alone him.

“Hello, flatmate’s brother,” you scowl pointedly, raising an eyebrow and slinking lower in the water to ensure the mountain of bubbles hides everything.

“Please don't be modest on my account,” he winks—the bloody troublemaker.

“Any reason you are barging into my private bathroom?” you ask with mock breeziness. He only picks up on the latter.

“Shaving foam,” he states definitively as if that explains everything.

“What about shaving foam?” you frown.

“Need some; it’s Bridgerton family prank time,” he grins, those adorable creases around his eyes appearing. Wait, adorable?

“Sorry, I don't have any,” you shrug.

“Pity,” he huffs and closes the door, sitting down on the closed toilet seat right next to you as if you invited him in for some form of chat.

Something roils in your stomach at his actions; there is no reason for him to be here still.

“Show me your leg,” he demands, apropos of nothing.

“Why?”

“Just humour me,” he reasons, bemused, raising an eyebrow and looking at you expectantly.

You sigh and extract one calf from under the bubbles, lifting it over the edge of the bath, wary that nothing else is visible.

You squeak when he grabs it and runs his warm palm over your shin. All sorts of feelings erupt in your belly.

“Well, that makes no sense,” he mutters, a hand still resting heavily on you, curled around your damp kneecap.

“What doesn't?” so much of this encounter is not making sense.

“How do you have smooth legs but no shaving foam?” he queries, shooting you a nonplussed look.

“I get waxed,” you explain.

His eyebrows pop up, and his pupils dilate rapidly. “Just your legs?” that voice is pitched so low you feel it vibrate through his hand and down your leg, right to your core.

Dear god, what is he doing?

“N…no,” you stutter.

“What else?”

“Many places….” you obfuscate, the humidity and heat in the room somehow cranking up as the hand on your knee slides higher, or rather lower, into the bathtub and onto your thigh.

“Put your arms in the air,” he demands, as only an intoxicated person would.

Without quite knowing why your soapy arms shoot up and connect with the wall behind you, your nipples are only just obscured under the foam.

His other hand brushes your armpit, and you reflexively giggle, which he seems to find utterly beguiling based on the playful smile that dances across his handsome face.

“Very smooth,” he opines, “and apparently quite ticklish,” the tone is low and teasing, his face now carrying an expression you could only categorise as very troublesome. “Where else?” it's a sinful low murmur. Very troublesome indeed.

You keep quiet, flashing a look but pretending not to know what he is asking as you lower your arms. The hand on your thigh slips lower, his light blue rolled-up shirt sleeve darkening as it absorbs bathwater.

“Where else do you wax y/n?” he rumbles, knowing he is crossing a line and, by god, you are letting him.

“I think you know,” you whisper, feeling your heart pound as his fingers spider along your inner thigh, inching further and further.

You gasp as he connects with the smooth flesh between your legs.

“Just how I like it,” he growls, his thumb petting the small strip of hair as his fingers slide into your folds.

“Fuck Benedict,” you exhale and lean back, not caring your breasts are now exposed above the water. You feel the heat of his gaze on them, your nipples pebbling in the cooler air above the water.

“I've always wanted to fuck you.” The blunt confession tumbles out of his lips, and even he looks momentarily surprised at his admission—before rolling with it and smirking at you dangerously, his fingers expertly rubbing a slow teasing circle on your clit.

You close your eyes and rest your head against the end of the tub as he teases you. Waiting for your response to his confession.

“So do it…” is your hushed reply.

He doesn't need to be told twice.

There is a growl as he grabs your chin with his other hand and pulls your face up as his face descends until your lips are crushed under his. His mouth opens, and you are flooded with the taste of expensive smokey whiskey and a hint of mint. God, he tastes good. And he kisses really well. Those sinful fingers are still playing you expertly under the water, making you so very desperate for him.

“Are you getting in or not, Bridgerton?” you mumble with feigned annoyance as his lips move to your neck, sucking the skin there in a delightful way.

“Definitely getting in,” the declaration buzzes against your skin as you watch him fight with a few buttons on his shirt. Giving up with a shrug, he pulls away from you slightly to yank it over his head and throw it aside.

“Oh fuck yes,” it escapes your mouth unbidden as you stare at his torso, and he preens in a way that would make you roll your eyes were you sober. The hand between your legs smear up your body underwater and grabs your breast, tweaking your nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

“Likewise,” he groans as his other hand fumbles with his jeans.

“Allow me,” you purr, and he smirks as he stands up fully, removing his hands from your body and nonchalantly offering his fly to you. Your inebriated states make you both much bolder than you usually would be.

You can see the outline of his hard cock straining against the denim, making you want to pitch your face forward and nuzzle it. Instead, you flick open the button and carefully pull down the zip. He is wearing dark grey boxer briefs, and you immediately grab him through the material, so warm and steely. The material rapidly grows darker and clings to his outline as the dampness of your hand soaks into the cotton. He groans heartily and pushes down his jeans to the floor as you continue to tease him.

Then he grabs your hand away from him and rather sweetly brings it to his mouth, kissing your knuckles. He lunges over, flicks the door lock with two fingers, and climbs into the bath all in one swift motion. You sort of hate how sexy it is. Except now he is settling between your legs and covering your body with his.

“Don't be too good,” you warn, but you surge against him, loving the feel of his skin on yours.

“Excuse me?!?” he exclaims, pulling up from worrying your clavicle with his teeth. “Did you just ask me to be bad at sex?”

“Do you want your sister to hear us?!?” you argue, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh…” realisation dawns on his face, but then it morphs into a look that should be labelled lethal, especially this close-up - a crooked grin with a fiery twinkle in his eye. “Maybe you’ll just have to learn how to shut the fuck up,” he opines, and you feel him tugging down his underpants under the water. “Because now I'm going to do my level best to make you bloody scream.”

“Fuck you, Bridgerton,” you snarl playfully, grabbing a handful of very shapely bottom and assisting in the removal.

“Oh no, I'm fucking you,” he fires back, and a wave of water slops onto the ground as he surges into your body without preamble.

You clamp your mouth shut but scream behind it. He feels absolutely fantastic; there's no other way to describe it.

“Well done for keeping quiet,” he compliments, holding still buried deep inside you, “also fuck, you feel good,” he admits with a shuddering groan.

“Move,” you bark in a somewhat impatient tone, desperate to chase an orgasm that you are so long overdue.

“Are you always this bossy? Or only when there's a cock inside you?” he swaggers, the alcohol making you both very frank with your exchanges.

You flick a soap bubble onto his nose and pout. “Wouldnt you like to know,” you respond cryptically.

“You know, I think I would,” he smirks “maybe when I'm done here, you’ll let me into your bed?” he proposes as he withdraws slightly.

“Hmm, maybe,” you volley, but the last word becomes a moan as he thrusts back into you, a hand pinching your nipple as his teeth bite your earlobe. “Okay, okay, yes, you can be in my bed too,” you surrender, not exactly a loss.

He never did leave your room that night. In fact, he was barely out of it for a week. Eloise suddenly found a reason to go on a business trip for a few days and returned with state-of-the-art noise-cancelling headphones. Funny that.

Benedict taglist: @makaylan @foreverlonginguniverse @iboopedyournose @wysteria-clad @colettebronte @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @margofiore @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @bridgertontess

[bella-ca]

Bound: A TRR AU

Mireya has always known she was different. She just didn’t realize how much. Upon her 18th birthday she gets information that will forever change her life. The stuff of her nightmares is reality. The things that go bump in the night really do exist. It’s up to her and her family to fight these monsters. Her life will never be the same. What happens when she falls in love with one such being? Will she live up to her legacy or become what she hunts?

A/N: My muse kept telling me this story needs to be told. I love anything related to supernatural/horror beings. I decided to name my MC. The Y/N= your name format just didn’t feel right to me. This is a TRR love story. It is a slow burn. This is unbeta. All mistakes are mine. I hope you enjoy.

Disclaimer: All characters belong to choices by Pixelberry. I’m just borrowing them. Same with the pics they are not mine.

Warnings: violence, cursing, murder, revenge, death. Underage drinking. By reading you are acknowledging you are at least 18 years of age.

Word count: 1857

Masterlist

Chapter 2

7 Years Ago

Afternoon turned into evening. You started to get dressed for the party. You put on a pair of black skinny jeans and tight burgundy top that accentuated your cleavage. You left your hair down. You completed your look with the high heeled leather boots and your tight leather jacket. You didn't bother with purses putting a few essentials and your phone in your pocket. You also put the dagger your dad gave you in a special holster your dad had made for you. Hey you could never be too careful. As you were getting ready there was a knock at the door. “Come in.”

“Ugh….so unfair. Your sister whines throwing herself on your bed with a groan. “Let me guess…” you tell her with a smirk. “Dad said no didn't he?” “Yes.” she says with a pout. “It’s so unfair. You got to go out at my age.” She says glaring at you. “Well first off, it was to small parties, not to clubs and second I wasn't boycrazy and third, Alex and Josh were always there with me.” you tell her. “Ugh whatever” she tells you rolling her eyes. “It's Friday night, why don't you go see a movie or something?” you ask her. “Everyone has dates I’m stuck by myself today.” She tells you with a frown. Mom and dad says we are having a family night.” she says using air quotes. You laugh. “Hey it’s your turn. I hung out with them this afternoon.” You tell her. “Mireya!, Alex and Josh are here. You better get a move on!” your dad yells from upstairs. “Kay” you yell back. “Have fun tonight. Have a drink for me.” Your sister tells you with a smirk. “You roll your eyes. “Bye sis, enjoy your night at home.” She frowns throwing a pillow at your. Your run out the door before it can hit you.

“Happy birthday Reya” Alex and Josh tell you giving you a hug. “Thank you.” So you ready or what?” Alex asks eager to leave. “Yeah lets go.” You give your mom and dad a kiss and head out to the car. “So Reya where to?” “Have you guys eaten yet cuz I’m starving.” Josh laughs. “Reya, your always hungry.” “Shut up” you tell him. “Since when have you turned down food?” you ask him with a smirk. “True” he tells you with a grin. You head out to your favorite diner. “So clubbing huh??” You ask the boys while eating another french fry. You already know they like going there to meet girls. It's hard for them to meet and keep girlfriends. A lot of the girls would get jealous of your relationship with Alex and Josh. They did have relationships, but not many serious ones. You felt like a lot of it was your fault and you would try and distance yourself from Alex and Josh. They would always tell you that it wasn't your fault and if girls couldn't handle you in their lives, then they weren’t worth being with. When you were teenagers, you did have feelings for both of them. You did actually kiss them both once during a drunken game of truth or dare, but the romantic feelings weren't there. At least not for you. If they did have feelings for you, they never showed it. You were fine with that. You have had a few relationships throughout the years. You weren't a nun and the boys knew you dated, but they didn't know the full extent. They still thought you were a virgin. You found that funny. When you did lose your virginity, the guy broke your heart. You found out he was in a relationship already and you were the side piece. You confronted him and beat him up. You vowed to never again fall in love. Most of your hookups were handsome guys you met that were just passing through town. You knew you would never see them again. You preferred it that way. Less drama.

“Come on Reya” Like you don't want to meet some guys.” Alex says rolling his eyes. You grin at him. You finish your meals and head out to the club.

You walk into club Kismet and straight up to the bouncer. He smiles letting you in. You walk into the club and straight to the VIP section. You take a seat and pull out your fake id. You order a bottle of your favorite tequila. Josh pours shots for everyone. “To Reya, Happy Birthday here's to you getting laid” He tells you laughing. You choke on your drink. “Shut up Josh.” you tell him smacking your shoulder. “What your an adult now.” He tells you with a smirk. “My love life is none of your business.” You tell him before taking another shot. “Are we really gonna discuss this. I came here to party not talk about Reya’s love life.” Alex says rolling his eyes. You guys have another shot. You look over the balcony to the dancefloor below. Its packed. “Ready to mingle?” Alex asks you. You nod grinning at him. The three of you head for the dance floor. You dance with both of them for the first few songs, then split up as they start dancing with other girls. As soon as they leave your side. You are approached by a guy that was a little too drunk. He starts to dance with you and you let him at first. Then he starts to get a little handsy. “So you walk away leaving him on the dancefloor. He doesn't even blink grabbing at another girl.

You walk back up to the VIP section and take another shot and you can feel eyes on you. You turn around. You see a man with piercing hazel eyes come up to you. He is tall, handsome, well built with black hair neatly combed. You blush. “Would you like to dance?” He asks you. “Umm sure” you tell him a little dazed. You aren't sure if it's the alcohol or his looks that have you flushed. “You head out to the dance floor. As a slow song starts playing. He grabs you close and you feel your breath leave your body as his eyes look you over. “You are a good dancer.” You tell him and he chuckles. “So are you.” he says with a grin. “What's your name? He asks you? Mireya you tell him. “What is yours?” you ask him. “Nicolas.” “Nice to meet you Nicolas.” you tell him with a smile. “I didn't mean to eavesdrop, but today is your birthday, correct?” Nicolas asks. “Yes. I turned 21 today you tell him “ He laughs. “You look a little young to be 21 Mireya.” He tells you. You blush avoiding his eyes. He leans in close and whispers in your ear. “Don't worry your secret is safe with me.” You smile looking into his ever changing eyes. You clear your throat as the song ends. “I would love to get to know you better.” He tells you. Your heart skips a beat. “Okay how about we go sit?” He follows you back to VIP. You talk for awhile as you drink. You excuse yourself to go to the bathroom and on the way back you feel a shiver go down your spine. You turn around and see a handsome man with dark brown hair and eyes walking up to you. Your heart skips a beat, warmth shooting thru you as you watch him approach. The desire to kiss him almost too much. He walks right up to you. He leans down and tells you. “Be careful, don’t trust him.” “What?” you say confused. “Be careful Mireya, don’t trust him.” he says again and leaves. You stand there stunned. Who was that man and how did he know my name? You look around trying to find him but he is nowhere to be seen. What the hell? You take a few deep breaths. Come on Mireya, get yourself together.

You walk back to VIP and see that Nicolas talking with Alex, Josh, and the 2 women they were dancing with earlier. They are laughing as you approach. “So I see you met Nicolas.” you tell them both. “Yeah, we were just talking about you.” ugh, great. You could only imagine what they said. “Dont worry Mireya, all good stuff.” Nicolas says seeing the look on your face. The girls with Alex and Josh just glared at you. Here we go again. “Forgive my brothers,” you tell them with a smile. Upon hearing the word brother the girls immediately relaxed. “I’m Mireya.” They smiled but did not give their names. “This is Tiffany and Lisa.” Josh says trying to ease the tension in the air. “Nice to meet you.” You say giving them a fake smile. Nicolas clears his throat. “So we were just talking and I was telling them that I could give you a ride home if you wanted.” You look at Nicolas surprised. He was brave to be telling Josh and Alex that. “Actually, we promised dad that we would bring Reya home.” Alex says. Glaring at Nicolas. “Reya?” Nicolas says looking at you. “Its my nickname.” You tell him blushing. He smiles at the boys. “of course.” Nicolas says. “It was a pleasure meeting you Mireya.” he kisses your cheek before he leaves. The boys kiss the girls goodnight and follow you outside.

You had park the car a block away. So you follow the boys down an alleyway as you all stumble into each other. Alex had already sobered up so he could drive and was having a hard time keeping you upright. You giggled holding on to Alex to keep from falling. “So I take it you had a good birthday?” He asks you. “Hell yeah she did.” Josh answers for you. You laugh. It was a lot of fun until you cockblocked me.” You tell him with a smirk. He stops to look at you surprised. “What?” he says anger in his eyes. “You heard me” you tell him. You guys said I should get laid and then you cockblock me.” Alex stops walking to look at you. He takes a deep breath and says. “Reya, your drunk. You don't know what your saying.” He grabs you by the waist and starts walking again. “Whatever” you tell him rolling your eyes. Before Alex could respond you hear Josh behind you throwing up in the alley. “Get it all out now cuz your not puking in my car.” Alex tells Josh. You laugh. A strong smell hits your nose. You have never smelled it before. It was like a dog, copper, and sulfur. Then you hear a noise in the alleyway. “What was that?” you ask. Then you hear a howl. “That can't be good.” you say shivering. You look around and see three pairs of eyes glowing in the dark. “What the hell?” Alex asks. You see what looks like 3 huge wolves standing on hind legs come out of the dark and surround you, growling. Before you can scream. They attack.

Chapter 3

Thank you for reading!! Reblogging and comments are appreciated. It will keep me motivated to write 💜💜

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