#I’m back with another one!! this goes out to everyone reading this in bed with all the lights off

[web-of-arachne]

“Rotting”

unknown // @/words-of-emotion // @/khozoomie on instagram // reductress // @/geloyconcepcion on instagram // unknown // @/heyskys // sancarts // happy2bsad

[bruisedboys]

trouble — jacob black

it’s raining and you’re bored. your boyfriend proves to be an effective distraction (if you can distract him, that is) OR in which jacob is busy and you like to cause trouble. based off this drabble!

jacob black x fem!reader, 2k words. suggestive content 16+ pls!!

The rain is unforgiving today. It’s not uncommon for it to be wet in Forks, the rain a persistent, stubborn thing, but today it’s horrendous. Heavy and icy cold, big fat droplets that seem sure to pierce your skin and freeze you to death. It hasn’t stopped since last night and doesn’t seem like it’ll stop for a good few days.

You’re bored out of your mind. You realise rain just comes with living in Forks, and you’re mostly used to it, but you’d really wanted to go shopping with your friends today and the rain squandered your plans the moment you woke up. Jacob’s busy working on his bike in the shed, and everyone else is rained in. You’re stuck on the couch at Jacob’s while the rain comes down in sheets outside. You flick through channels on the TV until you can’t stand it anymore. There’s nothing good to watch, anyway.

You grab one of Jacob’s jackets from the hook by the door and brave the rain, using the jacket as a makeshift umbrella as you jog your way over to the garage, shoes sloshing in the mud.

You find Jacob sitting on the beat-up wooden bench, hunched over his newest project. It’s a bike he found second hand at a yard sale — when he first got it, it looked to you an unrecognisable hunk of metal, hardly a bike at all. But your boyfriend has a way with his hands, and now it at least has two wheels and a proper seat.

Jacob looks up as you come in, though the sound of the rain completely covers your footsteps.

“Hey, trouble,” he says. Then, at the look on your face, “You okay?”

Your frown deepens. “No,” you shake your head. “I’m bored, Jake.”

Jacob chuckles. Trust him to laugh at you when you’re clearly suffering.

“Yeah?” He asks. “You want to come help me?”

You take one look at the frankly confusing array of tools around his feet, and wrinkle your nose. “No, thanks. Can’t we go for a drive?”

Jacob wrinkles his nose back at you. “I’m busy, babe. And the road’s slippery, it’s dangerous. Maybe later.”

You roll your eyes. He can be such a grandma sometimes. Jacob goes back to his bike and you wander around the shed looking for something to do and moping. After a half assed search for some way to entertain yourself, you find an old novel you or Jake must’ve left in here a few months ago — you remember starting it and getting bored, but you’re already knee deep in boredom with no way out, so you decide to give it another try.

You sit in the bed of Jacob’s truck where it’s parked in the back of the shed, legs swinging over the edge. The rain drums rhythmically above you as you start reading. It takes about ten pages for you to get bored again, and five more for your mind to start wandering.

You think about how you could’ve been out shopping right now. Looking at all the lovely dresses in the new store they opened near the cinema. Sorting through books at the second-hand bookstore. Choosing a pretty new bra that you know Jacob would love seeing on you, and taking off of you. The thought gives you an idea. Unceremoniously, you give up on the book and slide off the truck bed, crossing the room to Jacob.

He doesn’t lift his head as you come up behind him, but acknowledges you with a brush of his knuckle to your thigh. You stand over him for a moment, watching him work. He looks hot when he’s concentrated, eyes trained in on his work, jaw set in concentration, arms muscles straining as he twists a particularly stubborn screw. He’s got big, strong hands, which only fuel your desire even more. What’s the best way to drag him away from his work?

“Did you want to help?” Jacob asks without looking up, interrupting your thoughts. You’re lucky he doesn’t catch you staring, or he’d figure out your plan in an instant.

You shake your head. “No. I’m just watching you.”

Jacob hums and goes back to what he’s doing, which happens to involve a lot of strained muscles as he tightens another loose screw with a wrench. You’re holding your breath as you watch his tanned bicep strain beneath the fabric of his t-shirt, and yeah, you’re a minx, but he’s really hot, and you don’t think anyone would blame you for reaching out and touching him.

Jacob doesn’t startle under your touch nor does he acknowledge it. You play it off casual, like you’re only rubbing his shoulder, palm gliding over the hill of it. You can feel his abnormally high body heat through his t-shirt, a nice change from the cold air. You find yourself pushing your hand down the expanse of his shoulder blade and up again, pressing the heel of your palm into his muscle.

Jacob sighs a little under your touch and rolls his shoulder back, leaning into your hand.

“Feels nice,” he murmurs.

You grin. This far into your relationship you’ve learnt that Jacob is a lot like a puppy when it comes to physical affection — he’s a total sucker for it, he melts for shoulder rubs and back scratches, and he turns to complete putty in your hands when you play with his hair (though you won’t implement that just yet.)

Instead, you just hum softly, smiling to yourself as you press both hands to his shoulders. He’s equally warm and muscled all over, and at this point it would take a hoard of vampires to hold you back from touching him. You get a good grip on his shoulders and push your palms into his muscles, massaging him.

It’s mean, because you know what it’ll do to him, know exactly what kind of mood it gets him into. Still, it’s not until you start to push your hands further up towards his neck that he confronts you.

He turns to face you, a knowing look in his eyes.

“Did you want something, sweetheart?” He asks, and you can tell you’ve begun to unravel him by the way he says it, plus he’s called you sweetheart, which almost certainly means he’ll give in.

You feign innocence, though the look on his face almost unravels you.

“Nope,” you lie. “Just watching.”

Jacob raises his eyebrows at you. “You sure? You’re being awfully touchy.”

“You’re really warm,” you say, shrugging.

Jacob squints at you, then shrugs. “If you say so,” he says, and (looking like he’s exercising quite a bit of restraint) turns back to his bike.

You stay where you are and give him about five minutes of peace before you start being cruel. Keeping one hand at the base of his neck, you slide the other up the back of it, pushing up into his hair. You card your fingers through the short strands at the very nape of his neck, and Jacob goes very still. You think he’s holding his breath. When you push your hand further up into the longer strands, and let your nails drag over his scalp on the way back down, he folds.

“Alright, that’s enough,” he murmurs. He drops his tools, scrubs his hands on his jeans and spins on you, hooking one leg over the wooden bench, straddling it so he can properly face you. He‘s giving you a dangerous look that makes your heart race. Finally.

You blink at him, a picture of innocence. “What’s the matter?” You ask sweetly, though you know your smile gives you away. As if you weren’t caught red handed already.

Jacob huffs and rolls his eyes, before grabbing your hips and pulling you forward roughly. You go tumbling into his lap and he catches you, hands hot on your jeans, adjusting you until you’re properly sitting in his lap. Your legs fall on either side of his hips and you giggle, pleased and flustered at his manhandling.

Jacob gives you a somewhat disapproving look, though his thumb rubs fond circles into the fat of your hip.

“You’re trouble, you know that?” He says in a low voice. His eyes flicker to your lips. He looks a bit like he wants to eat you.

“Sorry,” you say. You are kind of sorry for disturbing him, but the heat building in your chest outweighs the guilt. “I was really bored.”

Jacob laughs through his nose. “Yeah, I know, babe.” He spread his hands over your hips and butt and pulls you closer still. Your hands end up on his shoulders again. “You always know how to get what you want, huh?”

Something about the way he’s talking to you makes you so dizzy you can’t speak. You’re silent as Jacob dips his head to press a kiss to one of your wrists, then takes it in his hand and guides your hand up his neck and back into his hair.

“Keep going?” He asks in a quiet voice, encouraging your hand around the back of his head. “Please?”

Well, when he asks like that, how could you say no? You curl your fingers into his hair and Jacob barely gives you time to breathe before he’s kissing you, mouth landing on yours in the sort of kiss you can only describe as desperate. You’re equal amounts of needy as him, pushing forward in his lap and grabbing at his hair with greedy hands.

The rain thunders overhead. Jacob tilts his head, kissing you until your lips part under the pressure. His tongue slips into your mouth and your stomach swarms with butterflies. You grip Jacob’s hair harder, ensuing a sound from him like an angry dog, half moan half growl. It seems your touching earlier got him in exactly the mood you knew it would.

It’s not long before his hands start to wander. First your ass, then your arms, rubbing up and down as he kisses you hard enough to make you forget where you are. Then back to your hips, and you can feel the scalding heat of his hands through your jeans. He grabs you and tugs you further up his lap, close enough that your legs spread as you press against his bulge.

“Jake,” you whisper.

“Mmm,” he moans back. Then pulls away just an inch, lips swollen and forehead pressed to yours. “What, babe?”

You shake your head, breathless. “Nothing, just feels nice when you do that.”

Jacob ducks in to kiss you again. “Yeah?” He murmurs between hot kisses, sounding both pleased and a bit dangerous.

You nod your head, and it’s all it takes for Jacob to rock you against him again, pushing his hips up into yours as he goes. You moan and Jacob makes a similar sound from the back of his throat, heating you all the way through.

It quickly turns into not just kissing after that. Jacob’s kisses turn sloppy. You push your hands under his shirt to feel along the ridges and planes of his chest and abdomen, his skin like a furnace. Jacob guides your hips forward and back and forward again, grinding you against him slowly and breathing hard into your open mouth.

You forget about the rain, the pounding of your heart much louder than the downpour outside. You forget about the cold, your failed shopping trip, and the boring book abandoned in the bed of the truck.

It’s not long before Jacob’s got his hand on your thigh and a warm ache sweet as honey has bloomed between your legs.

Jacob’s busy kissing at your neck, bullying your skin with his teeth and tongue while you go breathless. His hand trudges further and further up your thigh until it’s high enough to abuse the waistband of your jeans.

His hand roves along the length of it, until he reaches the button. He tugs at it, mumbling into your neck a barely intelligible, “Can I?”

You nod vigorously, and your breath catches as he unfastens the button — his thumb skims over your underwear and you make a needy sound you can’t help.

Jacob emerges from your neck, smirking like mad. You’d say you hate him for it, but his thumb is tracing the hem of your underwear and you can’t speak.

“Not so bored now, huh?” Jacob teases in a low voice, but he’s out of breath too. You’ll tease him later for how quickly you managed to unravel him, but right now you can’t form more than two words.

“Shut up,” you manage, then make sure of it by pressing your mouth to his again.

He shuts up.

-

thank you for reading! please consider reblogging if you enjoyed 🤍

[cherrribun]

Just read your first years with a stoner!reader and wanted to ask if you could write the same for the third years? Like they just catch the reader about to start smoking, eye contact, “You want one?”

TWST 3rd Years x Stoner! Reader

loving writing these, theyre so silly! not all are loyal to the exact prompt, but theyre variations of it! i love rook, i would kiss him if he was real :dreamy:

Characters: 3rd years!

TWS: Drug usage, weed of all kinds, some characters dislike the weed

a/n: sorry idias shorter, hes a bit difficult to write for me, but i shall improve!

Trey Clover

-trey has the mind of a worn out father of 3, the poor man

-hes very often busy, and despite this, does as much as he can to make time for everyone who is important to him

-heartslabyul is possibly the worst dorm to be a stoner in tbh

-often times you have to attend to the variety of colorfully bothersome 800 odd rules, all of which to be considered not only during class but afterward

-so no dice to our reader

-the most available hour to smoke is most often late at night, when most other students are asleep

-trey likes to wish everyone a goodnight before bed, wether theyre in the common room or their bedrooms!

-what a sweetie, if it werent for the fact you couldn’t wait for him to sleep one night, and decided to play chicken with footsteps down the hall

-the first footsteps weren’t trey, so you smoked, blowing it out the window

-and the next weren’t, nor were the ones after

-assuming trey had mistaken you for being in the common room and he had went to bed, you stopped trying to hide your pen when you heard walking

-of course, he enters your room with intentions of wishing you goodnight, when you are literally in the middle debating hotboxing the room

-”goodnight, dear—-”

-theres a good long moment of staring as trey is in some disbelief, you can see him grimace as he is assaulted by the stench of the weed

-you kind of just stare at one another, before you kind of just hold the pen out as if an invitation

-trey blinks

-”you know you really shouldn’t be doing that in the dorms. Its not good for you,”

-you got lectured for about 10 minutes before trey came over and gave you a goodnight hug

-he sheepishly kind of stood by the bed before snatching the pen and taking a hit lol

Cater Diamond

-lets be very honest, cater is a fiend for weed

-its practically in the dna of anyone with screentime exceeding 8 hours a day

-but cater isn’t dumb, he wouldn’t post about it explicitly, but has had “scandals” when he goes live on magicam, a little too giggly and slow while doing his little nightly routine

-when you come into the picture, you obviously shoot cater a follow on magicam, and he ofc follows you back

-and one day you happen upon his giggly streams, hes clearly tripping based off the way he cant stop laughing while messing with filters

-bless, youve found your people

-you would go up to him next time you saw him, and subtly ask him if he knows a mary jane

-he looks at you all stupid for a second before he catches on but seven be damned, hes estatic

-later that day, when its the evening turning night, you are of course enjoying the pleasures of your bong when a certain redhead is knocking on the door

-he immediately laughs the moment he sees your bong, pulling out his own pen when he shuts the door behind him

-”great minds think alike! I’m like totally not supposed to do this, but I brought secret tarts. no telling!!”

-cater is an active guy when high, he loves himself sativa, or whatever magical equivalent there is

-a smoke sesh with cater is a dream come true, hes entertainment enough with the way he literally can not sit still. he will go from telling you the latest gossip to playing his playlist and begging you to dance with him, all the while snickering and laughing

Lilia Vonrouge

-lilia is a very peculiar man, as many may be aware

-700 years old, a calloused war veteran who struck down foes larger than life, raising silver himself

-and also a gamer, 5’1, and owner of eclectic “vases”

-its rather safe to say when he stumbles upon you in the middle of taking a hit, he had known for a long time already

-hes not necessarily a stalker, but he does hang around per say (literally)

-and his “stumbling” upon you was very likely him hanging upside down in your room, likely planning on scaring you for the fun of it, but got interested as you looked about suspiciously before pulling out your little draw-string bag of buds

-he promptly blows his cover, scaring you yes, but hes eager to join you

-”my my, smoking in school? diasomnia no less? Youve a rebellious streak in you, most kids do dont they?”

-old man

-i jest, yet he does recall when weed was first localized for humans and the exact date when each strain was curated

-i dont really know if he would necessarily ask you if he could join, more so holding his hand out expectantly

-but you obviously havent rolled shit yet, so awkwardly handing him a bud, you watch in horror as he just. Eats. the bud

-lilia high isnt very different from normal lilia, honestly, hes possibly more tolerable if youre a fan of “back in my day” speeches

-he probably requires alot of weed to really feel much too, hes got a tolerance from over the years, you know. best to keep some extra if you want to keep the man around!

Malleus Draconia

-malleus is a bit of a buzz kill to be quite frank

-not in your usual sense however

-when malleus walks into your dorm, having picked up on that ever peculiar scent of a certain herb, he lays into you

-but not in the ‘smoking is bad for you!’ way

-in the ‘what is cannabis’ way

-malleus had grown up incredibly sheltered in briar valley, he barely speaks to a soul outside of lilia whom isnt always the best company

-he literally has no idea what the hell weed is, its simply never been introduced to him in anyway

-after a long explanation of what drugs are, how you enjoy the sensations of being high and buzzy, how you can get so hungry and sleepy or excited and stupid from the herb

-hes like a mix of a grandpa and a toddler sitting at the edge of your bed. hes got the mentality of a hardened ancient and the heart of a child

-he gladly accepts your offer of the drug, but doesn't heed your advice when you tell him not to hold back the coughs

-malleus hacking up a lung isn’t a sight many have ever been able to see!!

-it takes him a good amount of weed ingested to get any sort of high, much like lilia, but not nearly as much as the bat

-if youve ever thought malleus was brooding and quiet, youve simply never seen him on drugs. hes silent, staring, and unmoving, starkly like the gargoyles he enjoys so much

Idia Shroud

-idia smokes. he has a screen time thats so abysmally terrible its almost a cruel joke

-idia is a fiend for indica, he loves feeling silly and sleepy, and it soothes his anxiety quite well

-so he accepts to smoke with you

-anticipate a long, thoughtful reflective conversation when you're havinf a sesh with the guy

-he has shower thoughts to share for sure, and some crazy stories to tell you from time to time

-honestly with the way he speaks, you might forget he has indepth statstics about every persons social levels!

-he can lock in like crazy when hes high, dont be mistaken, however

-when not letting you in on his interesting inner world, hes got his eyes firmly locked onto a screen, absolutely crushing the poor souls who had the misfortune to be in a game queue with him

-however, he can't watch anime for the life of him when high, without being directly involved, he succumbs to the sleepiness almost instantly

Vil Schoenheit

-you have some balls to even think about smoking in the pomfiore dormitory, let alone when youre dating the vil schoenheit!

-vil has absolutely zero time for such lowly activities such as smoking weed!

-you have to get very creative with it, edibles are your best bet in such a pickle

-alas, vil insists on sampling one of your brownies, and dear god, no matter what you say, he demands it

-when you try and scoot around why he can't have one, he dramatically storms off and you have an angry vil to handle for the night

-he takes one during the night, and you get to wake up to vil in a distress you have never seen before

-”dearest, were those *marjiuana* brownies?”

- vil relaxed after you confirmed it, and let him know he wasn't dying, but he tried his best to scold you for smoking

-”this is simply unbelievable! have you no consideration for my image!?”

-too bad hes got the attention span of a goldfish while high

-show him something on your phone,let him have it, and you are set

-the wonderlands equivalent of tiktok is like a life line for you while this man is absolutely stoned out of his mind

-youve got a nice lecture waiting for you in the morning, try and enjoy him so soft and not uptight in this moment, yeah?

Rook Hunt

-rook is absolutely adorable

-the mans got the purest heart one could ever encounter, and adores anything to do with his betrothed

-when he encounters you and your penjamin, hes got a lovely impromptu poem for you to listen to

-”mon amour, you have stolen my heart in ways not uet discovered by the greater world! tu es éblouissante, ma cheri!--” yapyapyap

-all of which his is dramatic way of saying he doesn't care you smoke

-when you end up offering him some, trust, hes on one knee infront of you like hes proposing

-hes terribly down bad

-when hes high, oh my god, you would need to sew his mouth shut in order to keep him quiet

-he babbles absolutely nothing short of nonsense, almost all of which is in french

-”tu as volé mon coeur, tu es incroyable mon cheri. que ferais-je pour t’épousee á cer instant précis mon petit chou”

-hes also koala hugging you at all times, youre stuck to the bed with him while he babbles and pets you, i hope you dont mind being very warm!

Leona Kingscholar

-well….im not sure leona would care in anyway about someone smoking in the dorms, let alone his lover

-leona is supposed to report it, its a huge offense in terms of academics, but, is it truly that serious?

-absolutely not to this big ol’ lion

-he doesn't smoke himself, hes not into it, and if you ever offer, he declines

-”herbs are all yours, herbivore”

-he thinks hes funny for saying that (hes not)

-but ruggie will totally smoke with you, and leona gets agitated when you two are off having a little sesh together and the lions sitting and sulking on the bed

-why wont you sit and cuddle!??!

-you offer him the joint while you and the hyena are giggling, and he rolls his eyes and finally gives in

-”fine, whatever, its probably nothin’”

-oh my god, he absolutely loves it

-he sleeps like an absolute rock, head on your lap while you and ruggie are messing around and eating food

-during the brief moments hes awake, he grabs tou and pulls you into a death hug, and falls back asleep

-you wriggle out while laughing, repeat cycle

-leona can not help but smile when he sees you swooning while ruggie gags, only to realize the lions up and squeal and squirm away

-yeah, hes joining you next time again for sure

[prettygirl-gabi]

Title: The Hideout 2.0

Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Reader

Fandom: UConn Women’s Basketball

Word Count: 2.5k

Summary: escaping to the safe haven of the scissor sisters once again

🏷️: @yailtsv , @sitawita , @starfulani , @authentic-girl03 , @paige05bby , @paxaz535 , @azziswrld

It happens again. A week later to be exact.

Paige and KK are on TikTok Live, and once again, they’re loud.

I love them both, I really do. But between the overlapping voices, the sudden bursts of laughter, and the chaotic vocal stimming, my head starts feeling like it’s in a pressure cooker. It’s not even their fault—it’s just how they are together.

Instead of letting myself crash, I do what I always do: I slip my phone out of my pocket and text Carol.

Me: Coming to your room again

Carol’s response comes instantly.

Carol: Got The Vampire Diaries queued up. Door’s open.

I smile to myself. That’s why she’s my favorite.

Standing up, I move toward Paige, who’s too caught up in whatever nonsense she and KK are on to notice right away. I tap her arm, and she turns her attention to me with a curious expression.

“What’s up, babe?”

“I need a break,” I say softly, leaning in to give her a quick peck on the lips. “I’ll be back later, or I’ll be sleeping.”

She barely has time to react before I slip out the door.

⸻

Carol’s bed is already warm when I crawl in beside her.

Azzi, still working on her classwork, glances up from her laptop. “You on the run again?”

I nod, getting comfortable under the blanket. “I kissed Paige and dipped.”

Carol snorts. “Smooth.”

Azzi chuckles, shaking her head before turning back to her accountant assignment that she swore she was gonna burn.

Carol presses play on The Vampire Diaries, and I instantly feel myself relaxing. It’s become our little routine at this point. My quiet escape.

But while I’m finally unwinding, things on Paige’s Live are… not so quiet.

⸻

Paige doesn’t pay much attention to the comments at first. She’s too busy laughing at something KK said, completely unbothered. But then she notices a repeating question.

Why does Y/N keep leaving the Live and never coming back?

She ignores it at first. But then another comment pops up.

She was texting someone right before she left…

Paige’s brows furrow slightly.

Then comes the kicker.

She’s probably cheating.

That makes her stop mid-laugh. KK, noticing the shift in energy, nudges her. “What’s up?”

Paige exhales sharply, reading the comments again.

She shakes her head, unamused. “Alright, let’s shut this down real quick.”

KK raises an eyebrow but lets Paige talk.

“For everyone saying Y/N is ‘cheating’ or whatever dumb theory y’all are coming up with—shut up.” Her tone is firm, unwavering. “She was texting Caroline, telling her she was going to her room. Because, I dunno, maybe I’m loud as hell and she needs some peace?”

KK nods dramatically. “Yeah, we are pretty loud.”

Paige huffs, clearly annoyed. “Y/N gets overwhelmed easy, and instead of suffering through me and KK being obnoxious, or ruin our fun as she states it, she goes to Carol’s room to chill. That’s it. No cheating, no weird drama, just her needing quiet. Y’all gotta stop jumping to conclusions.”

The chat quiets for a moment before some fans start defending me, calling out the ones spreading rumors.

Satisfied, Paige ends the Live.

Then she gets up.

She’s not letting me hide out this time.

⸻

I don’t hear Paige coming.

I’m too comfortable, curled up with Carol under the blanket, half-watching the episode. Azzi is still at her desk, finishing up her exam, completely unbothered.

Then the door swings open.

Carol and I both look up just in time to see Paige stepping inside with a determined expression.

Before I can react, she’s at the bed, reaching down and—

“Paige—what the—”

She lifts me. Bridal style.

I yelp, grabbing onto her instinctively. “Girl, put me down!”

She ignores me, turning back toward the door. “Nope. You’re coming with me.”

Carol snickers. “Damn, guess our throuple honeymoon phase is over.”

Azzi, without looking up, mutters, “Justice for our wife, Y/N.”

Paige ignores them, carrying me effortlessly down the hall.

Carol calls out when Paige and I are half way to her room, “The scissor sisters will avenge you, we promise.”

I squirm, but she tightens her hold. “Relax, babe. I got you.”

“You could’ve just asked me to come back.”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t like waking up alone last time. So I just stole you, simple.”

I stop squirming at that.

Paige sighs, adjusting her grip. “I don’t care if you need space, but you don’t have to run away every time. Just tell me, and I’ll chill out.”

I glance up at her, feeling a little guilty. “I didn’t want to ruin your fun.”

Paige scoffs, finally stepping into her room. “Babe, I’d rather you tell me than disappear.”

She sets me down gently on her bed before climbing in beside me.

I let out a small sigh, settling into her warmth. “I’m sorry.”

She shakes her head, pressing a kiss to my temple. “Just talk to me next time.”

I nod, snuggling closer.

KK walks past the open door, peeking in with a smirk. “Damn, you really kidnapped her.”

Paige flips her off. “Mind your business.”

I laugh, finally feeling at ease.

---

■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■

                 -Thank You For Reading!🩵🩶

                             -prettygirl-gabi🎀✨️

[zzbubblegumbitchzz]

All Your’n - Quinn Hughes

best friends who are 100% more.

AN: i was listening to Tyler Childers while i was writing this, so i guess if you wanna add some spice to your reading listen to All Your’n.

WC: 1.1k

CW: kinda suggestive, besties to lovers, fluff, kisses.

Best friend Quinn absolutely has every one of your orders saved.

Doesn't matter where it's to, has them all saved. and if your order changes based off mood? He's got those saved too.

He takes you on roadies, at first you were just a guest. just hanging out, chilling with the wives you also came along. now you bunk with him, it’s never an argument or “who’s rooming with cap?” it’s always you.

He always goes to the room before he picks you up from lunch with Garly’s wife. He's gotta have time to get all your snacks and drinks and goodies ready for you.

You guys met in school, at a random home game he played. wearing the other school's hoodie. He almost talked himself out of chatting with you.

“Yeah I know, kinda a sin to wear this but ya know, gotta root for where I came from.” He was smitten right then and there but he’d never tell you. He’d never snitch that the pretty girl in an OSU hoodie was what he was thinking about at night.

He learns fast what your comfort movie is - Captain America: Civil War. He sat for hours in your dorm listening to you ramble about how that should’ve been an Avengers movie, and that’s the night he told you he had never seen any. You can’t have that, absolutely not. That following Saturday, you piled in your dorm. All the snacks, with each movie laid out on your desk.

Now, he doesn't care if you aren't home, or if you're in another country than he is. When that new marvel movie comes out, bet your ass he has the tickets, your outfits and the time READY. All shows are reserved for a binge watch with him when you’re together again.

You guys totally have matching bracelets, like those string friendship bracelets we all made back in the day. You've worn them since the first time you hung out and you just make copies of them whenever they fall off.

Marvel movie binges are often. you're an avengers gal, he'll start the timeline beginning to end just so he can watch you fall asleep as soon as age of ultron starts just so he has an excuse to pull you closer to him. He swears you're just friends, but when the next morning comes and you're half asleep in the kitchen with Jack and Luke and he walks in the house with a starbucks cup just the way you want and a big smile on his face everyone is putting pieces together.

“We went to bed late, sweetheart. I got you this and a sandwich, so you’re actually alive when Trevor and Cole get here." and he'll kiss your head and walk away and Jack’s eyeing Luke and then they both look at you, eyebrows raised.

"We're just friends!" you'd swear even though your heart definitely picked up the second his lips were on your head, and how you wish he’d come back and do it again and again and again.

Oh.

Oh. Oh my god.

You have feelings for your best friend. Ya know the best friend who’s always awake when you call at 3am, and the best friend who always knows what you want even before you know, and the best friend who lets you sleep in his bed when you’re stressed because “it’s comfortable Quinny! Please.” And the best friend who just made your whole body light up from such a small gesture, and that's when little pieces click.

Your eyes widen and you’re looking right at Jack.

“Oh you figured it out, huh?” He’s chuckling.

“Jack! Be nice, she just realized something big.” Luke’s understanding, he sees the fear on your face.

“Oh god. This can’t be happening, this is gonna ruin everything. I’m gonna lose him and you guys and the family I've been so lucky to be a part of. Oh my god. I’m gonna have to change my name and move to Peru or something.” Now you’re rambling, voice is shaky and then he walks in and your heart stops.

“Why are you moving to Peru?”

Now you’re wide eyed, Jacks wide eyed, Luke’s wide eyed and Quinn’s confused.

And then when you leave your phone unlocked on the table by him, “why's that your wallpaper?" and now his heart is beating really fast and he doesn't know why.

“Oh! It’s one of my favorites, it’s kind of a big deal winning the norris and you wanted me there. Means a lot to me and I like looking at us. We looked good.” You have this soft tone and your face is flushed up to your ears and your nose is scrunched a little bit and you're just his bestest friend who he can't stop thinking about and he wishes he could call when he's alone and stuck in his hotel room, who also looks so fucking good in his clothes it makes him want to explode.

Oh my god.

He's attracted to his best friend. The best friend who looks right at home in his house, who looks like she belongs in his family. Like everyone already loves her just as much as he loves her. Like the team doesn’t automatically expect her to be his plus one. The same best friend who he calls the second he has something exciting to tell her. The same best friend who took care of him during all those injuries this season. The same best friend he can’t handle even looking at anyone else.

That's when his body moves faster than his brain, his lips are on yours in an instant.

“Can't just say that shit, sweetheart."

It's like a breath of fresh air for him when you kiss him back. Like a piece of his soul is right where it's meant to be. With you, on his lap, lips against yours. Every painful, shit moment he’s gone through leads him right here. To this moment.

"I'd love nothing more than to keep kissing you, but I know the guys are gonna be back any second and I really don't want them seeing you on my lap getting needy."

Jesus christ. Getting needy. You’re getting needy for Quinn. Your Quinn.

Just like he said, the second you're off his lap, and right under his arm; in they come.

You both look like you got caught doing something you're not supposed to, you excuse yourself, too awkward to handle the rest of them right now. Your hand is just hovering on your lips as you walk out. Quinns is quick to text you, "promise when we go to bed tonight, i'll do it again and i won't leave you hanging this time. I’d really like to see how needy you actually get when I have more than 5 minutes.”

Jack kinda cackles when he realizes how quick Quinn’s phone was out.

“Did we interrupt something, Q?"

"Fuck off Jack."

[cherrypickinns]

used to, not to

spencer thinks of all the ways he's gotten used to you when you're away from him.

spencer reid x reader words: 1.7k genre: fluff a/n: pulled this outta me for valentine's day bc i have fomo

Seven steps until he finds you again, or at least the memory of you in the smell of the same old bakery on his path to the office, familiar as he hears your voice,

“Okay, just one donut.” reverberating through his head, one hand subconsciously holding the satchel closer to him.

The doors of the office open on their own, and he repeats the daily routine of tight-lipped smiles to almost strangers, people he sees everyday but knows nothing about. Penelope pinches his cheeks just for a brief moment, along with her chipper “Good morning!” when he passes her.

He woke up in an empty bed today, an unhappy reminder of your departure last night. The flight had flown well into midnight because of the weather, and he was glad, at least he could talk to you before you went up into the sky, unreachable to him. 

You'd laughed at him when he said it to you,

“Baby, it's only 5 hours, you'll have me available right after you wake up.”

“I’m so glad you think I get 5 hours of sleep every night.”

He had laughed along with you, but truth to be told he was afraid. He'd gotten too used to being around you whenever he was home, you had a much agreeable schedule. 

So now he's in his bed, resting his back on the bed frame behind him, laptop resting on his legs, right after you cut the call.

The screen was already black, he'd been too busy talking to you to pay attention to anything. His phone screen lit up again, a last text with your name on it,

“Bye baby, don't miss me too much. Get some sleep. I love you.”

How cruel of you to send it when you won't even be able to see his answer for the next few hours.

A few more minutes spent in silence and staring at his reflection over the blank screen when he shakes his head to come into his senses, and busies himself in anything other than thoughts of you.

Morning.

Hurried hands and squinted eyes, scrolling through the only notifications he cares to read on his phone.

Two missed calls and seven texts. 

The texts are timed several minutes apart, updates on when you landed up until you reached your hotel and fell asleep.

“I'm glad you actually went to sleep. See you in my dreams.”

The text read like you, sweet and teasing till he smiles with an ache in his heart, of course this was the day Hotch didn't decide to call everyone 3 hours earlier than usual.

The day goes as it always does, mundane and routine. JJ states a case, Hotch tells everyone what to do and they get to the jet to discuss further details.

He spends his time inside offices and police stations, looking through files and clues that are informed to him over the phone, connecting pasts to present, turning his phone on and off for anything new, as if that would automatically generate a text from you.

Evening comes in, hues of orange red and blue as he walks home, the same donut shop, haunting him as he leaves it behind.

He thinks of calling you again, but he remembers you telling him to text you more, you can't always pick up his calls. He knows he shouldn’t, but it's a selfish wish to hear from you again.

So instead he takes a picture of the shop, and tells you he's thinking of you, and puts his phone back into his satchel.

The door is locked, another thing he was out of routine, he had gotten used to you being home before him. He'd gotten used to seeing you in your pyjamas, cozying up in your blanket watching your shows, or blasting music as you pretend the spatula is your mic. 

You'd both laughed a lot that day.

A bittersweet feeling envelops him again as enters through the door, and switches on the light, feeling heavy in the absence of your presence, an oxymoron, he thinks.

He goes into his bathroom to take a shower after a long day to be met with cold water. He yelps as the water makes contact with his skin when he realises that you always made sure the shower was ready whenever he came in, or you tried most days. He doesn't remember asking you to do this, only remembers thanking you the first time you did. 

He's glad you're not there to see the smile on his face, lovesick and pathetic whenever he thinks of you when you're not there.

He wonders if others notice it, but realises the stupidity of his question. He remembers the initial days of them dating, how Emily would shake her head whenever he jumped to take your call, how Penelope gushed about his adoration towards you, and the usual remarks of Derek teasing. 

The coffee machine just finished pouring his beverage into his cup when he hears his phone ring. He knows who it is, so he answers like it's meant for you,

“Hi, I missed you.”  

“It's only been 3 days, Spence.”

The clock hands have moved past two hours because neither of you had put down the call. He had read his book and you had done your work in silence, light typing sounds in the background.

He was glad he'd been away from home for a few days, it gave him space not to th ink of you inhabiting the space beside him, to not think of the absence of your arms around him, to not have another reason to make coffee in the morning. 

The leftover beverage stared at him whenever he moved his head, daring him to go pour himself another cup. He'd made too much, he was too a creature of habit, not used to you being gone.

Nights had a weird way of going by slowly when he didn't have you to talk to. Another bad habit of his, he realises, your voice.

He wouldn't dare tell you, or anyone if he's being honest, that he'd played your voice note more times than he'd admit. 

Pathetic, with that stupid grin on his face as you told him about your day. 

Hopeless, he thinks.

He doesn't mind being hopeless, especially if it's you.

Spencer doesn't dream often. He's glad, he has enough running thoughts every second he's awake. But he's also glad to have this dream, where your fingers are sliding down the slope of his nose, tracing the bones of his cheek, running through his hair.

He doesn't open his eyes, he wouldn't dare put a stop to any of it. The voice that chuckles sounds eerily like you, but he does open his eyes when he hears it say,

“Never seen you smile in your dreams.”

He's never woken up this fast, his heartbeat immediately higher than it should be this early in the morning, but he deems it a natural reaction to being around you. His eyes are desperate and searching, confused and the image makes you chuckle. He looks adorable like this, you think.

His voice is a near whisper, adapted to the quietness around him as he wakes up,

“What are you doing here? Weren't you coming tomorrow?”

You laugh again and it's like honey to him, “Got off early, thought I'd surprise you.”

He doesn't have much to say, too many different thoughts running through his brain so he buries his face at the crook of your neck. You smell like you, he’s missed that too and he has to stop himself from saying it out loud.

“I think I've gotten too used to your coffee, nothing else seems good anymore.”

“Everyone else says it's mediocre,” He chuckles, his breath warm on your skin, “You're the only person who likes it.” 

“Well, it's… you, I guess. I like it because I like you.”

This is the only thing about you he's never gotten used to. He doesn't know how to respond when you talk to him like this, words too sweet, too saccharine, words only meant as a declaration, as a compliment.

He has answers to most if not all questions you could ask him, he'd list facts about any topic you talk to him about, he'd tell you how amazing you are every day, because he's used to it.

He gives away parts for him to his job, to his friends, to his mother, but he's never had much practice receiving it. It's second nature, to let the person in front of him know that “Yes, I care about you.” in crystal clear words so that he never has to bear the hurt of the sentence that follows, “Please, stay.”

He'd asked Penelope once, what to do with compliments. She had told him, after many minutes of teasing, to thank them, or tell them you love them. He’s not sure how other people think, but the idea of just a thank you didn’t sit right with him. 

Neither of those options sounded good to him, but he had thanked her and left, not very satisfied with the answer. Instead, he does what he's gotten used to doing, telling you the new things he's learned when you haven't been around.

“I think I've gotten too used to listening to your voice before sleep. I played the voice note you sent me atleast 7 times.”

Pause.

“7 times?” He could hear the amusement in your voice.

“You should make a morning alarm, just for me. Then I could wake up to your voice.”

You're not quite sure how to respond to that. It's a common occurrence, your perplexity at his compliments. 

Who says that anyway?

You're used to responding to the usual compliments, you know what to say when someone tells you you're pretty, or that you look good in your outfit. 

How does one ever say anything in response that could ever live up to whatever he just asked of you?

So you don't. You find his hands and squeeze them to let him know you heard him, and say the first thing that you could think of to answer him, to calm your racing heart, 

“You don’t need one. I'll be here myself, promise.”

[demie90s]

Birthday All Week

꒰ 🍒 ꒱ Spoiled!Nika Mühl X READER ꒰ 🍒 ꒱

MASTERLIST, ALL PARTS

⭑ pairing: Nika Mühl x Reader (rich!fem!reader)

⭑ summary: You hate your own birthday—refuses gifts, avoids attention, and always tries to refund people who do too much. But when it’s Nika’s birthday week? Oh, it’s on. You may not think your worth the effort, but Nika? You’ll spoil her like royalty.

⭑ genre: Soft luxury, birthday fluff, lowkey angst, team dynamic, slow-burn sapphic romance

⭑ warnings: Gift-giving, self-worth themes, mild language, Nika being Nika

⭑ word count: 0.8k

I don’t like my birthday. I don’t want the attention, the gifts, the dinner invites where everyone awkwardly sings and makes me sit in the middle. I hate it. Every year it creeps up and someone tries to do something sweet, and every year I Zelle the money back. I don’t want people spending on me. I don’t even like when they try. “Don’t waste it on me,” I always say, and I mean it. “I’m not worth that.” And maybe that sounds dramatic, but I’m being honest. If y’all are okay, I’m okay. Keep your money. Keep your energy. Keep the damn balloon.

But I still celebrate everyone else. All of them. I have gifts wrapped a week before Paige’s birthday. I remember Azzi’s coffee order and deliver it with handwritten cards. I once flew KK’s favorite snack from another state and had it waiting in her locker with a dumbass note that said, “Happy Birthday, I guess.” It’s not about the money. It’s about the fact that I know what they like. And I like knowing. I like making other people feel good. I just don’t want anyone doing it for me.

Which is why the way I celebrate Nika makes everyone stare like I’ve lost my mind.

Because Nika’s birthday? I treat it like the damn Super Bowl.

It’s a week-long event. Not a dinner. Not a gift. A whole curated, color-coded calendar of chaos. Day one starts soft—her favorite coffee waiting by her bed, a neatly folded hoodie she’d mentioned three months ago, and a note that says, “You thought I forgot.” She didn’t even realize it was a thing until day three. That’s when the bracelet shows up. Custom, obviously. One of the charms is the number 10, one is a tiny little crown, and the last one is a heart in my handwriting. She opens it in the locker room and the whole team goes quiet.

KK blinks. “You got a whole ass bracelet?”

“She got me a charm bracelet,” Nika corrects, voice smug like she doesn’t already have four more gifts waiting back at the dorm.

Azzi turns to me. “You let us pass your birthday with nothing but a granola bar and a side hug.”

“I told y’all I didn’t want anything.”

“You say that every year.”

“And I mean it every year.”

“But you want this?”

I glance at Nika, who’s holding the bracelet like it’s breakable, staring at the engraving like she’s memorizing it. I don’t even hesitate. “Yeah. I want this.”

By Friday, it’s obvious. I’ve gone too far. I always go too far. The restaurant I rented for just us has a view of the city, her favorite wine, and a chef that literally bowed when we walked in. Nika’s stunned the second we get there. She tries to argue—says I’m crazy, says I should’ve saved my money, says it’s too much. And I just look at her and say, “It’s not enough.”

She laughs at first, thinks I’m joking. But then dessert comes and I hand her a small box. Inside’s a ring. Sleek, simple, her style. On the inside it says, “Mine, even when you’re mad.”

She doesn’t speak for a second. Just slips it on and stares at me like she’s trying to read something I haven’t said out loud.

“You really hate your own birthday and then do this for me?”

I nod. “Yeah.”

“Why?”

I shrug. “Because it’s you.”

And that’s the thing no one gets. It’s not about proving anything. It’s not about making her love me back. It’s not even about being romantic—at least not all the time. It’s about the fact that when I do things for Nika, it doesn’t feel like I’m wasting anything. It doesn’t feel uncomfortable or too much or like I’m being seen in a way I can’t control. It feels natural. She asks for nothing and deserves everything. She never expects the gifts, never posts them, never brags. She just looks at me like I’m made of something important.

And that? I’d spend my last dollar to see that look.

The team catches on, of course. The whispers start in the locker room the next day.

“She got sneakers for every day this week?”

“Bro. Her name is embroidered on that hoodie.”

“You know she won’t even let us pay for a Chipotle bowl on her birthday.”

“She once canceled a surprise dinner for herself.”

“VENMO’D ME BACK FOR A CANDLE.”

I just sit there, tying my shoes like it’s a normal Saturday and not the day after I gave my favorite person in the world a ring with a pet name engraved inside it.

Azzi turns around, arms crossed. “What would happen if we planned something for your birthday next year?”

I don’t even look up. “I’d leave.”

KK cackles. “And yet Nika gets spoiled like she built the damn team.”

“She did,” I mutter.

Nika walks in wearing the sneakers, the ring, and the bracelet. She doesn’t say a word. Just smiles at me and sits down like she hasn’t already taken up the entire week and all the air around me.

Azzi watches her. Then watches me. “She doesn’t even like birthdays.”

“She likes mine,” Nika says casually.

And that’s it.

That’s the truth.

I hate mine. But I love hers. And I’d do it all again next year. Bigger. Louder. More private jets if I have to. Because she makes me feel like giving isn’t a burden. Like the act of choosing her is enough.

And if that’s all I get out of it? That’s more than I’ve ever let myself want

[olivianott]

BRAIN CHEMISTRY

Tell me I’m not the only one happily not recovered from the deatheatertok (yes that’s why I’ve been MIA😬) and the Lorenzo Zurzolo gifs from the other day? 😭 I could not help myself with this one.

READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION, OCTOBER CAME EARLY TO ME.

ꕤ 1.6k words 

ꕤ deatheater!Theo Nott x fem!reader

ꕤ warnings: toxic ex, deatheater Theodore, pure smut, unprotected sex, explicit content, not for minors, 18+

ꕤ all characters are adults

You knew you were in trouble. That you fucked up. You somehow found yourself at a party in an unknown manor. You and your friend got talking with some people at a pub and now you are surrounded by glimmering Death Eater masks. Everyone is acting as if they are just having fun at a party. But you see their eyes following the two of you everywhere. 

You already know what is going on at these parties. You heard stories, awful stories, from him. You wonder if he is in attendance. No. Stop thinking about him, he didn’t want you anymore. He is one of them after all. 

You try to think of a way out for you and your friend. Get drinks, but don’t drink them, discreetly inch towards the entrance while smiling and acting like you’re having the time of your life, getting through the door and the few steps over the anti-apparition wards and poof, you’re both safe. 

That was the plan. Everything went smoothly, until just before getting through the door, your path is crossed by a tall Death Eater with an overly decorated mask. “Hello, beautiful.” He says while you watch your friend successfully execute the plan and disappear with a crack. 

You turn around and try to escape the lewd gaze of the big Death Eater, but there is another one in your path and you realize you are surrounded. Fuck. This is not good. No, don’t panic, don’t panic.

You panic.

Your vision starts to blur and you can’t seem to think straight. Heart in your throat, the ground becomes unsteady. Another mask enters your field of vision, too close to your face. This mask looks elegant, not overly decorated, but with artistic lines strategically curved around the planes of the artificial face. He grabs you by the upper hand and starts to drag you away from the crowd that formed around you, barking something to the other Death Eaters. You try to fight him off but it’s not working, his grip tightens and when you don’t stop, he loses patience with you and puts his wand under your chin. It doesn’t hurt but the threat makes you tremble in fear.

The man leans down next to your ear and hisses: “STOP IT.” The voice is so hard and threatening but at the same time familiar. 

You momentarily freeze and that gives him time to drag you through the hall and into a bedroom. 

Fuck, fuck, fuck. 

He closes the door after you and you finally have time to compose yourself, because he goes to the other side of the room, leaving you alone. While he locks the room with his wand, your mind clears slowly. You suddenly realize why the voice is so familiar. 

Theodore Nott. 

You’ve never seen him in his Death Eater robes and a mask before, but now you can’t stop looking at him. 

Theodore turns around, throws his mask on the bed, and stalks to you so fast, you actually step back in fear until your back is against the door. “Why the fuck are you here?!” He spits in your face, his eyes are feral and full of anger but also fear. 

“It was an accident, my friend thought it would be a good idea to-“ 

“To what? To enter a devil’s lair full of fucking Death Eaters that enjoy killing too much and don’t ask for permission to do anything? Don’t you fucking know what’s going on at these gatherings? Fucking hell!” He is talking quietly but with so much anger, you can actually feel his magic vibrating between you. 

“What’s it to you? You’re one of them now, you look like you’re right at home at this vile party, huh?” 

“Do you really think I like it? That I wanted this? Do you even know where you are?”

“In some nasty pureblood’s manor?”

“Yes. Welcome to the Nott manor.” His sarcastic smile falls off his face as he looks down and backs off of you, finally letting you breathe air. 

Oh. Nott manor. It’s his home. 

“Are you actually hosting this party?”

“Well, as I said, those people don’t ask permission for anything, so here we are. But now you are here and you made this night even more difficult for me. They have set their eyes on you now and they are hungry, in more ways than one. The Death Eaters need their food, and they like to play with it before eating.” 

He says this so matter of factly it takes a while for your mind to catch the whole truth of what you’ve casually walked into tonight. 

“You’re a Death Eater too now.”

“Exactly.” He smirks. 

You’ve missed him so much. His scent brings back memories, and you feel your body heat up despite his arrogant behavior and attempts to scare you off.

“What- what are you going to do to me?” You say breathlessly. Without your permission, your mind shows you pictures of you and him from the past, the little bit of fear just heightening your excitement. 

“Oh please, you know I’m not like-“ he stops himself mid-sentence and focuses his glare on your throat, pulsing with blood rushing through you, your red cheeks, your trembling hands, the rise and fall of your chest. 

“Now I remember.” His mouth curves in this arrogant smirk and his eyes look mischievous at the same time as dangerous. 

“You like danger… you like being scared, amore? Does it turn you on? Tonight you bit more than you could chew though, princessa. And now…. You are trapped in here. With me.” 

You can’t respond to him, but your body does. Your breathing gets more labored and you can’t help your gaze falling to his lips. 

His hand starts roaming down your body while again hovering over you, leaning against the door, the height difference between you more obvious than ever. 

“I- uhh…-“ you are unable to say more. But you close the distance between you and crash your lips against his. 

Theodore groans loudly, takes both your hands in his, and slams them against the door above your head. 

“Oh princessa, you don’t know what you just started, do you?” His hard kisses resume and your mind is filled up with sensations. 

The feel of his body against yours, the hardness of the door digging into your back, his teeth biting your lips, dragging against your throat, his lips sucking on your pulse point. 

Your eyes are closed, but you feel your feet leave the ground as Theodore picks you up and sends you flying on the bed. While crawling over you on the bed, he picks up his mask and puts it on his face. 

Fuuuuck. 

You can barely see his eyes staring down at you from behind the mask, in between the short strands of hair falling down around it. 

The world is a blur now, clothes start flying off of you, his hands tracing your curves. Suddenly he loses patience and flips you over, on your hands and knees on the bed. With his hand under your chin, he makes you look up. A mirror. Your moan is embarrassingly loud. The vision of him in his mask behind you, admiring you through the mirror, hand grabbing your throat… you’ve never seen anything hotter. With his other hand he traces your wetness and groans into your ear: “So ready for me princessa, you really do get turned on with fear and danger. How nasty of you. Was this your plan all along? To get fucked by a Death Eater?”

You can only manage to shake your head no, since he is already opening his Death Eater robes and taking out his beautiful cock. 

“I bet you were hoping to find me here, right? Wanted to make me take you back? Make sweet love and be together forever?“ He chuckles condescendingly at that thought. „Look at you now, writhing under me, dying for me to fuck you like this, with my mask on. Scream for me, princessa.” You can’t see the expression on his face since he is wearing his mask but his words are so degrading and harsh. And still, your eyes roll back into your head. 

And you do scream for him, you can’t help it, you are overwhelmed with sensation, his hands, his cock, his scent. After a while, your arms give out and he pushes your chest down into the bed, holding your hands crossed behind your back, you can’t even move. You are completely at his mercy and the feelings in your head are so confusing. You feel pathetic, under him like this, your body getting rocked by his trusts, but still, the way his cock feels inside you, the way he seems so powerful and in control of you and your pleasure with the way he manipulates your body and mind creates a fog inside your brain. Surrounded by his grunts, you realize he is using you for his satisfaction, seemingly oblivious and uncaring about your comfort or pleasure. You being completely naked, with your face in the mattress while he is still fully clothed behind you is just another layer of the humiliation. But your fucked up brain makes you love it so much that with his whimpery moans in your ear you finally lose control as you feel him lose the rhythm and push all the way inside you, so incredibly deep,  as he spills himself inside you. 

There is no cuddling after. He unceremoniously pulls out and sits in his bed propped up against the headboard, a trembling hand bringing a cigarette to his mouth, while you try to find your clothes and dignity on the floor. 

“Nice show. You were loud enough, so now they know you’re mine and hopefully leave you alone. Doesn’t change anything between us though. You can use the floo to get out of here and I hope to never see you at these things again, you understand me?” He says all of this so coldly and without even looking at you at all, so you quickly throw on your clothes and leave through the floo, throwing a “you’re still the same asshole” at him over your shoulder. 

Sitting on your sofa two days later, you are replaying everything that happened that day in your head. Your brain keeps getting stuck on the fear in his eyes when he dragged you to the room, a shaking cigarette in his hand after the sex, a slight tremble in his voice while he kicked you out of the manor after fucking you into oblivion. 

Maybe everything is not as he wants you to believe. He saved you from them after all. 

As always, thank you for reading, hope you liked it. I’m not done with deatheater!Theo though 🤭.

moodboard

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾. ‧₊˚ Your principessa ‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾. ‧₊˚

If you want more: 🖤here🖤

If you need more death eater Theodore 😌

[monstersholygrail]

dray, can i request what vampire medic if we got our period? He's so adorableeee

This is actually perfect I just started my period the other day (mind you I still have the flu— like cmon, damn)

Ever since you began dating Army Medic Vampire bf the only blood he seems to crave is yours. Everyone else’s tasting like he’s swallowing down acid. He just couldn’t do it and that left you as his only option for food.

In order to make sure you don’t get hurt, or worse, drained, you set up a sort of system. Assigning him a few feeding days a week in order to keep both your energies up.

But when Army Medic Vampire bf smells blood on a non-feeding day, he’s instantly curious and a tad bit suspicious. He walks into the dining room where you sit while making an exaggerated sniffing noise.

“My heart, you’re bleeding,” he says bluntly, sounding both a little worried but also slightly pleased. He was feeling rather peckish this morning.

Your brows furrow and you spare a quick glance over your form before realization dawns on you. A bubble of laughter builds up in your throat as you find another new thing you have yet to properly explain to him.

“Oh, yeah, I’m on my period,” you say with a small shrug.

Though your amusement quickly turns into confusion as your bf immediately scoffs. His suspicion only growing as he casts you a narrowed glance. Thinking you must be playing some sort of trick on him.

“What? That is preposterous. I was told a woman’s monthly wave is nothing but a myth to scare men into compliance.”

You stare at him blankly. Trying very hard not to throw open the curtains and let him burn out in the sun. Instead you drag his ass back to the computer and plop him down in front of his trusty medical websites. Letting him read up on all the very real and painful facts of a human period.

His expression goes through possibly every human emotion ever made as he reads on. Horrified gasps and scoffs leaving his permanently dropped mouth without resistance. If his heart still beat you’d have sworn it stopped from reading all this.

“You bleed for nearly a week EVERY MONTH?!” He shouts once finished with all the essays and studies on the subject.

Before you can confirm, he’s in front of you in the blink of an eye. Scooping up your curvy frame with ease like he can’t stand the idea of you walking or putting any strain on yourself.

“Come, we must get you some more before you run out!!” He snaps frantically, his eyes growing more wild by the second.

“What?”

He rushes you back into the bedroom, paying you down like you’re the most fragile thing in the world. His eyes flicker between from your eyes to between your thighs like he’s preparing to try and stop the blood from leaving you.

“I give you this vow, my treasure. I will not let you bleed out during your curs-ed menses. You will get through this unscathed,” he says with such determination it kind of scares you.

“I don’t bleed that much,” you respond curtly, a little offended. But it’s like he’s not even listening to you at this point.

“Oh, the pain you must be in! Fear not, for you will not perish under my care,” he shouts out as dramatically and passionately as possible.

You just sigh deeply, knowing there’s nothing to be done when your boyfriend gets like this.

“Wow, I appreciate that…”

He pretends not to notice the sarcasm in your voice as he slides right into bed with you. His hand slips down to caress your soft belly in a way that actually helps to soothe your cramps.

“It should be a relief to know that once you are a vampire the only need you’ll have for blood will be to drink it,” he murmurs, calming down at the thought. At least it will be one less thing to worry about.

He rests his cheek on top of your head, his free hand coming up to brush through your hair. Thinking perhaps some sleep could distract you from all the pain you’re surely in.

“Yeah, but how does it leave your system after?” You ask simply, noting the way your bf tenses against you and how he starts petting your head a little more firmly.

“Shh, shh, shh. Let’s not think about that,” he whispers, trying and failing to hide the panic in his tone.

[callsign-rogueone]

Aoife

Brennan Sorrengail x reader (duchess!!)

words: 2.1k

🏷️: no book spoilers. read “the twins” and this ask for more context, mentions of pregnancy complications, but nothing goes wrong this time, talk of labor and delivery, the boys being unbearably cute, ridoc and sweetheart are on babysitting duty, bad formatting since I’m posting from my phone in bed, that’s about it

You’re glad that this one is more patient than their older brothers, but you are absolutely sick of being pregnant, and sick of being stuck in this bed.

You’ve been a little uncomfortable all day — more so than usual — and it’s starting to worry you. It’s not the intense, sharp pain in your side that you’d felt last time, and none of the profuse bleeding, thank the gods, but a persistent ache between your hips that feels a lot like a bad period cramp. It’s come and gone all morning, but every time it seems to be a little stronger, a little more painful.

You’ve contemplated telling Brennan, but it had taken a lot of convincing to get him to go downstairs and work with the assembly today. Calling him now would only make him hover even closer until the real arrival, and he has more than enough work to do, on his behalf and yours — you��ve done what you can from bed, but that really isn’t much.

You are definitely not doing this whole thing a third time, not when you’re going to inherit responsibility of Tirvainne in the next few years, and not with the risk to your health. You weren’t intending to do it a second time, anyway. This time had been an accident, the result of the two of you neglecting to take your supplements with everything else you had going on, including raising your boys.

And when you’d found out the news, the both of you had been so torn. On one hand, another sweet little baby to snuggle with, an addition to the family and a physical testament to your love, but on the other… last time, he’d nearly lost you in the process.

“I’m so sorry,” he’d whispered, his voice breaking. “I should have been more careful, I…”

You just leaned your forehead against his, like you have hundreds of times, and the tension started to drain from his shoulders. “Don’t blame yourself. It takes two people to make a baby. And I’ll be okay,” you soothed. “I’ll really take it easy this time. And I’ll have you and Ban and Marbh and the boys to watch over me.”

You’d both breathed a sigh of relief when the healers had confirmed it was only one baby, and not another set of twins. But you’d still decided to be cautious — you’d been too active during your first pregnancy, making the hike up to the vale too many times, exhausting yourself with your assembly duties and teaching and everything else on top of making two tiny humans. It’s unclear if that had caused your complications, but you don’t want to find out.

That doesn’t mean you’re enjoying your bed rest. But Brennan and the boys have done everything they can to make it less terrible, mainly spending a lot more time with you. Thankfully they’re out today, playing in the snow with their cousins, and whoever’s turn it is to babysit — you wouldn’t be able to hide your discomfort from them, and they’ve both been instructed to report any and all problems to Brennan as soon as possible.

There’s another twinge, one strong enough to have you squirming in your seat, squeezing your eyes shut and holding back a swear.

You wait for one of the dragons to make an appearance, but they don’t. You’ve been practicing building up your shields in the countless hours that you’ve spent lying in this bed, and it appears to have worked. You’ve been careful not to keep them up too often, though, just enough for your absence to be considered regular — so they won’t notice anything unusual, unlike if you’d slammed them up suddenly, blocking everyone out.

It occurs to you that you’ve never actually felt a contraction before. Last time, you hadn’t truly gone into labor — as soon as the healers realized what was happening, you’d been sedated and rushed to surgery, Brennan helping heal you back up within minutes. You still don’t remember any of it, just what you’ve been told, but none of it was good.

Despite not having anything to compare it to, you know in your heart that this is it.

Once the pain dulls enough for you to sit up, you don the pair of slippers laying on the floor by the side of the bed and throw a cardigan over your pajamas before you pad your way out of the bedroom, and out of your family’s quarters for the first time in months. Thankfully, the country being at peace means there’s not many people around the fortress to see you — you go completely unnoticed until you knock on the doorframe of Brennan’s office.

He pales, immediately sitting upright. “Are you okay? Why did you come all the way down here? You could have just asked Marbh to—“

“We’re fine,” you interrupt softly. “I just wanted to see you.”

His face softens, and he rises from his chair, wrapping you in a gentle embrace. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs into your hair. “I didn’t mean to snap at you. I’m just scared, is all.”

“I know,” you soothe. “And I love you for it.”

It’s so easy to melt into his touch, letting your body rest against his. You close your eyes, savoring the tender moment — you haven’t had many like this in a while.

“You’ve got to get back upstairs,” he realizes, dismayed.

Stairs had been at the top of the list of no-no’s for you in your third trimester, because they’d strain your heart and your muscles. But in a day or two…

“I won’t have to worry about that anytime soon.”

There’s that adorable look on his face, his eyebrows pulled together in confusion. You watch the gears turn, knowing exactly what he’s thinking — you wouldn’t come all the way down here “just because”, even with the hormones and increased emotions. And you won’t have to worry about stairs anymore?

Oh.

Oh.

“You think it’s happening today?”

You nod, a smile slowly stretching your lips — and then it falls, your eyes squeezing shut and teeth clenching as another cramp starts, worse than the ones before. Brennan’s hands are on your shoulders immediately, keeping you upright, and the pain ceases, a deep sense of relief washing over you.

“You do know what the healers said,” you prompt gently, once you’ve relaxed.

“I know. I can’t block all of the pain, because the contractions are the best indicator of when the baby will be born. But right now, it’s just you and me, and I don’t want you to be in any more pain than you absolutely need to.”

You manage a smile. “You’re so sweet. I should marry you.”

He laughs, and that does more to ease your anxiety than anything else ever could. “You should. Now, let’s get you to the healers.”

—————————

Everything about this experience is making you glad you’ve never had to do it before, and you never will again.

Even with Brennan blocking your pain, it’s incredibly exhausting. You’ve already filled four conduits, which had been an excellent idea to have nearby. Without them, you’d likely have set the curtains on fire by now.

The dragons have come and gone, like they’re taking shifts opening their shields to you. Not that they can do much from outside, that is, besides alerting anyone with a signet that could be of use — but you already have Brennan and three healers with you.

There’s a soft cry — not from you, but from a baby, and you collapse back against the pillows, both exhausted and relieved.

Brennan presses a kiss to the sweat-damp skin of your forehead, his thumb stroking over the back of your hand. You’d nearly broken it with how hard you’d squeezed, but you’ve let go now, limp in his hold. “The boys were right,” he says softly. “It’s a girl.”

——————

The healers take her away after a while, to clean her up and make sure she’s healthy, leaving you to sleep.

Ban had promised to tell Aotrom and Rhith that their riders would need to watch the boys a while longer, and they’ve always loved spending time with their aunt and uncle. They won’t question it at all.

You don’t see them until the next morning, when Brennan brings them up to see you and their little sister. He gives them each a boost up onto the bed, and they settle in like usual; Asher on your right, Naolin on your left.

“Hi my loves. Did you have fun playing in the snow?”

“Mm! Uncle Ridoc made it so the snow wouldn’t melt. And we went sledding, down the hill!”

“Which hill?” Brennan asks, eyebrows raised — surely they don’t mean the slope of the valley?

“The big one! It was kinda scary. But mostly fun.”

You can’t help but laugh. Of course Ridoc would have approved this idea, probably even been the one to suggest it, and definitely participated himself. His wife, however, had likely been waiting at the bottom of the hill, bandages at the ready.

At least they turned out unscathed, from the looks of them.

“I’m glad.”

There’s a moment of calm quiet before Brennan speaks. “Do you want to meet your little sister?”

Their eyes bug — evidently they hadn’t put it together that you being in the infirmary meant the baby had arrived.

Brennan picks her up out of the small bassinet, carefully transferring her into your arms. The boys have been around a few babies before, and have both inherited Brennan’s nurturing instincts — they know to speak quietly, and to be very careful with her.

“What’s her name?”

“Aoife Rose. It was my grandmother’s name.”

“How long until she can play with us?” Naolin asks.

“It’ll be a year or two before she can run around with you outside,” you say softly, giving him a gentle squeeze. “But until then you can play with her inside, and talk to her about anything you want, or read to her. The more she hears us talking, the sooner she’ll do it herself.”

“Does she also need to sleep a lot? Like you do?”

“Yeah, she does,” Brennan answers. “But for a while, she won’t sleep at night like you do. And she’ll take naps during the day after that, too.”

Asher looks like he has a question, but he’s hesitant to ask it. You carefully adjust Aoife in your lap, putting an arm around his shoulders and coaxing him closer to you. The comforting gesture is enough for him to speak his mind. “Are you coming home?”

Your heart aches. He hadn’t asked when you’re coming home, but if you’re going to at all. With all the uncertainty about your health, and the fact that you and Brennan hadn’t sat down to talk with them about how exactly all of this would work… you can easily see how he concluded that you were going to live in the infirmary from now on.

“Of course I’m coming home, honey. Probably today. Auntie Peach and the healers just need to make sure that Aoife is healthy first.” And yourself — but you don’t want to worry them further.

He nods, but doesn’t say anything.

Brennan steps in to continue reassuring the both of them. “Things are going to be a little different now that we have another person in our family. Your mama and I are going to have to spend a lot of time taking care of your sister, because she’s so little. But I promise you both that we’re all still going to live together, that we will spend as much time with both of you as we can, and that we still love you both just as much as before.”

That seems to ease them both — Naolin stops clinging to you as tightly, but still remains tucked into your side, and Asher looks less afraid, too.

“Do you want to keep reading our book?”

Now that perks them both back up.

Brennan takes the baby from you, quietly stepping outside the room while the three of you get settled in, cracking open the volume. You’re nearly done with it, just a few more of the short stories left. You’ll have to ask Violet for a recommendation next time you see her.

—————————

“That was a pretty good speech back there,” you say quietly, slowly getting settled into bed. Your legs are aching from the stairs — you haven’t climbed them in months, and haven’t had any rider’s duties to keep your strength, either. At least Brennan had mended what he could, and your back is no longer aching from the weight of carrying Aoife 24/7.

Brennan just smiles. “My father said something like that to me when Mira was born. I was about their age, too.”

“How did you take it?”

“Pretty well, I think. I don’t really remember.”

“Then it can’t have been that bad, I suppose.”

“No,” he agrees. “It wasn’t.”

[frostyhelltime]

Can I request Husk, Vox, Alastor with reader who drunkenly cofess their love to them? I adore drunk confessions!

I am back from the dead!

I am happy to be back and writing though. Hope everyone is doing well!

Characters listed: Alastor, Vox, Husk.

Warnings: None.

Husk

Honestly…it feels almost inevitable that you would drunkenly confess to Husk. The main times you got drunk were around him after all.

Didn't make you feel any less embarrassed, of course.

But as for Husk he's just…confused at first.

He looks around to see who it was you were actually trying to confess to.

It doesn't occur to him that it is, in fact, him.

His gut reaction is to deny, to push you away.

Tell you you don't even know what you're saying, trying to brush your confession off.

But you are very adamant and it eventually sinks in that drunk or not, you meant what you said.

He's very flustered as he tries to help you to bed, his heart pounding as your words replay in his head.

He promises to talk to you about it in the morning when you're sober.

But you end up having to bring it up first when morning comes.

Part of him is afraid that you hadn't really meant it, and he would have felt foolish asking.

“For a bartender you’re shit at reading signals.” You slur, leaning over the bar with a foolishly excited grin on your face. Said bartender laughs and shakes his head. “How did you come to that conclusion? I read everyone right.” He teases with a raised brow, but your reaction is almost immediate, a scoff as you lean back, holding onto the edge of the bar to keep yourself from falling.

“You can’t be that great because you never once clocked that I have feelings for you.” You drunkenly roll your eyes as you pull yourself back to the bar to smile at him, only vaguely aware of what you’ve confessed. But Husk is more than aware, his eyes blinking rapidly as if that would somehow make what you said make any more sense. Maybe…he turns around, looking at the rest of the bar as if there had been some secret person hidden in a corner you were actually talking to. Perhaps a hidden camera? A prank?

“I mean I was just joking but…you really didn’t know? I really thought you knew.” You laugh, curling your drink closer to your chest and laughing more, not noticing the slight crestfallen look on Husk’s face at first.

“Joking about the reading thing. Not the feelings thing. I really thought you knew, you just couldn’t figure out how to let me down easy.” You chuckle again, taking another sip. 

He’s quick to shake his head, narrowing his eyes as he looks you over for any sign of deceit.

“You clearly have had too much. I’m cutting you off and getting you to bed. You don’t have any idea what you’re saying.” He shakes his head again, huffing as he rubs his temple, desperately trying to fight the building hope he feels.

“Drunk thoughts are sober words! Oh wait. No. It goes….Drunk words are sober thoughts? I think?” You mumble as he crosses the threshold and slings one of your arms over his shoulder as he helps you to your room.

“You really don’t believe me?” You sound much more aggravated than he expected.

“My words won’t change in the morning. Perhaps I’ll be a bit more embarrassed about how honest I was. But they’ll still be my words.” 

You were so focused on putting your words together you didn’t realize how quickly you had reached your door.

How odd.

The next thing you actually remember is the sun shining through your window, painfully so as you groan and roll over away from the light. You’re too hungover to even really startle when you hear a chuckle in your room, but you crack an eye open enough to see it’s just Husk in a chair by your bedside, medicine and water in hand.

“Thought you might need this.”

You look at it a moment before sighing and sloppily grabbing for it, drinking the water down as well with the medicine.

“I still mean it. That I have feelings for you, by the way. If you don’t believe me, ask Angel how many times he and I have talked about ways to make you notice me.” You manage to get out before rolling over and curling up into your covers again.

Which is for the better, Husk thinks. He certainly knows he doesn’t want you to see the startled look on his face, the way his ears twitch in confusion and excitement, or the way his tail swishes about from a happiness he hadn’t dared to let himself dream of.

Vox

It starts with you two drunkenly insulting each other for fun.

No harm, no foul. There's very little off limits for you two, and you both know which touchy subjects to avoid.

Plus, most people were too afraid of Vox to insult him to his face, so it was a refreshing and silly change when you two did this.

But then your insults…change, and it's weirdly both complimentary and insulting.

At first he thinks you're joking, but then he realizes you're actually upset and then he's even more confused.

He hadn’t said anything that should have actually made you angry.

But then he realizes…you seem mad at…yourself?

He’s about to ask what the hell is wrong with you when he hears the…admittedly…backwards sounding confession, both insulting and praising him all at once.

“You have that fake charismatic smile plastered on your face all the time! I’m surprised the image isn’t burned into your screen!” You laugh, shortly before he joins in.

“Least I’m not dumb enough to see a feather duster and mistake it for Val’s feather! Imagine, me startled by a feather duster, I could never.” Vox is laughing, and even though that has happened to him as well, he certainly won’t admit to it.

“Hey! It had the exact same coloration! Not my fault! Least I’m not too stupid to realize when someone has a crush on me!” You scoff, and he laughs at first before looking confused.

“Nah, that’s not a good insult. I am very aware of my secretary’s crush on me. I don’t give a shit.” He raises a brow, looking at you. You’re backpedaling almost immediately, not realizing how easily you had given yourself away. You’re already beginning to mentally curse yourself for making such a foolish slip up.

But Vox’s expression changes from confused to the same type of predatory he gets when he knows he has a sale in the bag.

“Unless…? You meant someone else had a crush on me that I wasn’t aware of?” He hums nonchalantly, leaning across the table and laying his screen into his hand as he looks at you. You only seem to fluster more, looking around for any possible distraction or way out, but your attention is brought back by the sound of his claws rapping against the table in impatience, that stupid smug smile still on his face.

“....M-Maybe…” You mumble, looking down and away now, but the hand making noise against the table stops almost immediately and cups your chin, pulling you to look at him. No hiding.

“Perhaps I can fix that then? The not realizing someone has a crush on me bit?” He teases, and there is something both dastardly mischievous and honest in his next words.

“Besides, you’re just as stupid for not realizing someone has a crush on you back.”

Alastor

It happens after a night of drinking and dancing to jazz.

Well, during, is when it starts.

Both pleasantly drunk on whiskey, you more so than him.

You casually admit it, hardly even aware you’ve confessed.

But he is painfully aware, unsure if you’re genuine or, like every other sinner, attempting to get something out of him.

But you’ve always been so…ridiculously honest and genuine in Charlie’s program. It’s hard to imagine you even saying a white lie, let alone a manipulative one.

He decides to test it in the morning, getting unusually close to you to see your reaction.

Surely if you were simply trying to be manipulative you would be afraid, trying to fool the radio demon himself?

“Oh I love this one! Just one more dance!” You laugh, your grip on his hands tightening. An action that would normally annoy him with others, but with you was almost…pleasant.

“Ah, you know me. How can I ever say no to a Glen Miller song?” He hums, chuckling as he spins you before bringing you close to him again, arm wrapping around your waist a moment in the middle of the energetic and fast paced number.

You lay your head into the crook of his shoulder and grin to yourself.

“My, my, are you losing energy? Already?” Alastor can’t hide the amusement in his voice, nor does he want to as he continues to sway with you to the music.

“Oh no, never. Just…enjoying dancing with my love.” You say it almost absentmindedly, without quite realizing what you’ve said. But even muffled against his lapels, he hears it, and freezes for just a second before continuing his movements.

“Your love? You say?” He asks curiously, eyes almost boring into you as he waits for a response. You tilt your head back just enough to look at him, hands still rested in his.

“My love? Oh. Did I say that out loud? Fuck.” You frown a moment, the pout you wear almost adorable despite how infuriated you were with yourself.

“Language.” He playfully reminds you, spinning you in a way that makes the room spin so much faster than it already was.

“Yeah I speak one.” You slur out, hands gripping onto the lapels of his suit and clinging to him once you’re spun back to him.

But this just makes him laugh, whole heartedly and unabashedly.

“I think it’s time to head back.”

He knows it’s silly to interrogate you in your current state, but still, you babble as he helps you back to the hotel.

“What’s the point of even liking the big bad radio demon? Nothing will come of it.” You laugh, clinging to him as you stumble alongside him.

“Oh? Well I think it depends on how much you like the ‘big bad radio demon’.” He is clearly bemused as he listens to you, still aware enough himself to get you both back safe and sound.

“Like? Love. Romantic feelings. Whatever. I’m sure it’s all unrequited. These lovely dances with you are probably the closest I’ll ever get to that fantasy…” You mumble, sighing to yourself as you finally cross the threshold into the hotel lobby.

The sight of you two practically attached at the hip is nothing new, so barely anyone even bats an eyelash at the sight of it now.

However, unlike previous times he’s helped carry you back, his smile is decidedly strained, deep in thought as he analyzes everything he can about this interaction, and previous ones.

Was this genuine? Highly unlikely. Or was it simply a ploy to gain a favor from him? A loyalty you could utilize and take advantage of?

However in all the time he’s known you…that seemed…unlikely.

Surely you couldn’t have truly meant it? Surely just a silly thought that flitted across your mind as the two of you danced. But still, he helps you to your room, careful to help you into bed, and assuring you he would bring water and medicine in the morning.

When the morning comes and you awaken, you feel a flush come across your face immediately as you remember what you confessed the night before. You groan into your pillow, burying your face in it in a vain attempt to suffocate yourself, but you just hear a familiar and jovial laugh from nearby.

“Oh my dear! That isn’t how you suffocate someone at all!” Alastors laughs, throwing his head back before smiling at you.

You dare to open an eye, looking at him curiously.

“...Do you remember last night?” You ask cautiously, but he just leans closer, until his lips are just a breath away from yours.

“....Do you?”

[moonlightmornings]

hannah's buddie fic recs || pt. 2 💫

okay okay, i know i said part two would come after season 8b hit but there's a lot of awesome people out there who write REALLY good stuff-

as usual, if you're the author of one of these please reply and i'll tag your tumblr! and ALWAYS check the tags and warnings before reading!! stay safe :)

<- PART ONE: hannah's buddie fic recs

soft and slow kisses by malmal88 | 1k words | teen+ Buck comforts Eddie after Chris has a nightmare. It helps Eddie realize some things.

what humans do by brewrosemilk - @gayhoediaz | 18.5k words | explicit "…and the thought that she had just escaped death by such a narrow margin made me realize the intensity of my feelings toward her.” - Buck trails off when Eddie reaches for the book, gently luring it out of his grasp.... (Buck reads to Eddie and they get something more out of it)

and longer by far by farfromthstars - @doeeyeseddie | 14.5k words | teen+ Everyone seems to expect Eddie to propose to Buck any minute now, which is annoying because Eddie doesn’t want to get married again. He's sure of that. Or is he?

you're my kind of therapy by jesm - @jesmme | 5.9k words | explicit Eddie's stressed and Buck knows exactly how to get him out of his head.

the mouth is the thing that craves by underhung_aura - @eddiebabygirldiaz | 11.7k words | explicit “You need something in your mouth, sweetheart? Need to hold me close, don’t you?” Eddie loves Buck and he really loves Buck's cock.

baby, can i hold you? by fleetinghearts - @shitouttabuck | 3.6k words | teen+ A hand on a shoulder, a press of bodies beside each other, a nudge of knees under the table. “Can I, uh. Can I touch you?”

or, Eddie panics. Buck holds him.

i do all my own healing, manage all of my feelings by himbobuckley - @bumblebee-be | 1k words | teen+ “Eddie,” Buck tries, squeezing his wrist as tears prick his eyes. “Baby, c’mon I’m right here.” This is something deeper, something Buck can’t soothe with his fingertips or ease with a kiss.

Eddie has a nightmare and all Buck can do, really, is be there and do his best to comfort him.

to chase away the nightmares by dracculaura - @dracculaura | 3.1k words | general “You know, I used to have nightmares when I was a kid,” Buck tells Chris. - Buck helps Chris with his nightmares after Eddie gets shot.

long day, longer nights by becausebuckley - @becausebuckley | 3.6k words | general “There you are,” Buck mumbles into Eddie’s hair. His arms are tight around Eddie’s back, holding him close. Eddie goes boneless in the hug, sagging into Buck’s body and trusting his boyfriend to hold him up. The touch is a balm on his tired soul, every second of it seeping into him and providing relief. “You’re home.”

Eddie has had a long day. Buck is there for him.

i don't like my mind right now (stacking up problems that are so unnecessary) by xjustlikeyou - @xjustlikeyou | 9.9k words | explicit Buck asks Eddie how he feels about combining sensory deprivation with temperature play. Eddie does not feel good about it, but agrees to try it after talking it out... aka the subdrop!Eddie fic

buck's new favorite chair by kittydiaz - @kitteneddiediaz | 13.3k words | explicit Buck buys a chair, and then fucks Eddie on it.

still my heart and make me breathe by finbish | 5.2k words | explicit Buck sat on his chair. Ankle hitched over his knee as he stared, enrapt. In Buck’s hand was a remote, and across from him, on his bed, laid his boyfriend, riding ecstasy.

nightmares, nightmares, go away & never come back another day by michi_rambles - @theweewooshowtookovermylife | 2.1k words | teen+ During a stormy night Eddie deals with nightmares, and Buck comes to his aide.

let me wrap my teeth around the world by folkfae | 4.7k words | explicit When Eddie had come over to Buck‘s loft for dinner and a movie, he’d thought he was going to get dinner and a movie they’ve seen a hundred times before and could easily fuck to. But he can only take so many dramatic choreographed dance sequences and over-the-top acting before he needs to do something else to occupy his mind. And his mouth.

bumps and grooves by simplyylupin - @simplylupin | 26.1k words | teen+ When Eddie was seven years old his mother had taught him about God. "He loves us, Edmundo. He loves all," she tells him, tucking his blanket to his chin, "Everything you see around you is His love."

Now, Buck grins at him from across the table and Eddie thinks this is the closest he's ever been to understanding how his mother viewed the world. As a manifestation of love. A higher power.

-> PART THREE: hannah's buddie fic recs

[senseiofbullshitarchive]

I think Connie, Jean, and Porco would be the messiest boyfriends. They’re always down to hear the tea and be in peoples business. I think they take three different perspectives on tea (especially work tea).

Jean is by far the messiest of the three. He asks “anything interesting happen at work today” or “what’s new, baby” while he’s rubbing your feet or doing skin care with you before bed. Even though he doesn’t ask directly, you know exactly what he’s fishing for. As soon as you sigh and say “lemme tell you about”, his eyes light up and he smirks. He’ll lay back and let you talk and talk and talk about Linda at work. You can tell him every thing like he’s one of your girls and he’s into it. He sees it as a form of trust but he's also just nosy as hell. He’ll ask questions and engage. He remembers everyone’s names and every single transgression against you. He acknowledges that you’re just venting and that you don’t actually feel angry enough the kill your coworkers. He’ll let you say anything terrible that you need to get off youe chest. You don’t even need to ask “can I say something terrible?”. It’s all fair game to him.

“She sounds like a miserable, dried up, old, hag and she needs to watch herself.”

“That’s right, baby. You tell her.”

“And she wonders why her kids can’t stand her.”

Jean is all up in your work business. He also knows never to repeat anything you tell him. So if you he ever meets the person you’re trash talking, the person will never know that Jean knows everything you’ve told him. He’s cool to play the aloof boyfriend. What’s great about Jean though is that he adopts whatever attitude you have towards these people. At your Christmas work social, he’s polite and professional (read: fake) with Linda. He’ll smile when he needs to and mimics your level of fake. Once Linda crosses a line though, he won’t let her slide. He'll drop the fake smile and put her in her place; never even having to raise his voice. After you guys leave the event, Jean is all “I see what you mean, baby”. Every time you bring up Linda in the future, he'll always mention how awful she was at the Christmas social. Jean doesn't forget.

If you ever stand up to the people giving you shit at work, he will praise you. “Talk yo shit, queen.” Like Jean, please be serious for five minutes.

Connie is similar in the aspect that he wants to hear all the tea too. Connie has a harder time keeping up and following. “Who’s Linda again?” And now your speed running him back through two weeks worth of tea before he goes “oh, oh, oh yeah! Uh hm. I’m following you, babe.” He may interrupt you and egg you on hard at some points. Connie wants the full retelling of the tea. He wants to feel like he was there when it happened. He wants ALL the details and he is quite the exaggerator. “Babe, if that was me, I woulda laid her ass out right there.” Like Connie, please. No, you would not have.

“You let her say that to you?”

“See? And that’s why her husband left her and she can’t find another man.”

“Isn’t she the one that made that nasty ass chili for your work pot luck?”

You have to warn Connie what he can and can’t repeat because if you don’t, he WILL accidentally repeat something about your boss' affair back to them without thinking about it. “Connie, you can’t tell anybody this,” or “I need to say something terrible but you can’t repeat it,” and he knows to lock it away in the vault. He’s very neutral when he meets the people you talk about. Sometimes he might even end the night like “Linda isn’t so bad. I think you misjudged, babe.” Find Connie sitting at a table laughing and drinking with the manager you can’t stand because he gets along with everyone.

Porco is a whole different story. He acts like he doesn’t care about your work drama and at times it may seem like he’s not listening, especially if it’s something you’ve griped about repeatedly, but the man is listening. He’s doing something else, not making eye contact, and giving you short answers while you talk, but he’s listening. If you stop just to see if he's listening, he'll wordlessly look at you and wait for you to continue. If you tell him to repeat whatever you just said back to you, he will sigh and give you a watered down version of everything you said. He will recall stuff you told him weeks ago. Sometimes, if the tea is really good, he'll stop what he's doing and engage, but will still wear that unimpressed look. Spilling work tea or venting to him may get a little frustrating because he frequently advocates for you rocking somebody’s shit. Porco believes violence is the answer to disrespect lol. Linda at work pissed you off? You should rock her shit. You found out your 'friend' started a terrible rumor about you? Crash out and two piece her. Your grandma offended you? Hands rated E for everybody.

“Baby, just rock her shit and quit. I already told you that I’ll take care of you and you won’t have to go back to that shitty place.”

“Knock her ass out and you never have to work again.”

“If I were her, I would be a bitter bitch too if had to look at you all day. (Insert a comment about how hot you are followed by something filthy.)”

How romantic. He’s trying to be supportive, but he just doesn’t enjoy the fact that somebody is ruining your day at a place where you spend so much of your time. He doesn’t think you should have to tolerate disrespect no matter how minor. He constantly advises you to square up with Linda, quit, and become a stay at home partner that lives out their dreams while he provides for you. If you text him while you’re working that you’re getting a headache because of Linda, he will either reply that you should just lay her out or he’ll ask if he needs to come up there. It’s hard to tell whether or not he’s joking.

“Baby, don’t let her disrespect you. Lay her ass out.”

“Do you need me to come up there? We’ll see if she still says that shit with her chest.”

What sets Porco apart from Jean and Connie is that he does not play nice when he meets the people you vent about. When he meets them, he’s a bit standoffish and uninterested. He’s gives a short 'hey' and does not shake hands. Something about how unapproachable he is makes the people you can’t stand vie for his attention. Porco will literally size them, keep a neutral, straight face, and not say a word, but something about that makes people feel like they have something to prove. No matter how much Linda tries to butter him up, he never warms up to her. Like Jean, Porco won’t let backhanded comments slide, but he’s much less pleasant about addressing it. While Jean says “what was that?”, Porco is more of a “fuck did you just say?” kinda guy. Jean will politely and calmly read Linda for filth if she crosses a line with you. Porco is loudly cooking Linda, her momma, her daddy, her grandma, ALL her kids, their kids, and any future kids. And though you’re proud and happy to have a man that stands ten toes down for you, you’re the one who has to show your face in the office Monday morning. As confrontational as he is, he will take a step back and let you handle the people you have problems with. However, if you're nonconfrontational and want him to handle it for you, he will pack them up fast.

[leclercsredhelmet]

New in the Paddock ✧ Franco Colapinto

A/N: Hello! Back with another blurb for you all, this time it’s Franco themed because I’m just so happy that one of my f2 faves is on the f1 grid! (I’m still so sad about Logan) anyways here’s New in the Paddock with a Hispanic reader! I hope you all enjoy reading this one <3 This was inspired by Enchanted by Taylor Swift!

“These are the words I held back as I was leaving too soon, I was enchanted to meet you”

Being back in Italy has you buzzing with happiness, it’s been quite a few years since you’ve been back in the country. Yesterday you’d spent the day sightseeing and doing light shopping in Milan. This is your first big job opportunity fresh out of university and you’re extremely excited for what lies ahead. Once your alarm rang you leapt out of bed and opened the curtains. Music plays from the phone that sits atop the dresser, as you pass by the window you smile at the crowd of Tifosi chanting and you notice Charles signing their things. Smiling, you walk towards your suitcase and take out the outfit you had laid out last night.

Heading to the bathroom you change into a pair of jeans, a white tee, and a white and blue embroidered vest paired with your usual gold jewelry and white sneakers. Applying the last touch-ups to your makeup you grab your brown Longchamp bag and check that all the contents are there before grabbing your passes and the room key from the dresser. Locking the door you head towards the elevator. Looking around the hotel lobby you notice the flurry of staff getting ready to head out. You spot some drivers heading out and want to ask for pictures but you’re nervous and want to remain professional.

Briefly, you catch a glance of Franco Colapinto as he passes by in front of you and he offers a small smile once you lock eyes. Shyly you smile and tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. Noticing your phone is starting to ring, you pick it up. Your mother’s face greets you on the other line with a proud smile. Smiling you lift the phone to an appropriate angle so she can see your face.

“Hola mi amor, ¿qué tal te va el primer día de trabajo?” she asks and you smile.

(Hi my love, how is your first day of work going?) “Hola ma, muy bien hasta ahora, estoy esperando a mis compañeros para tomar la guagua al circuito” you reply.

(Hi mom, very good so far, I’m waiting for my coworkers to take the car to the circuit)

“Bueno espero que todo te vaya muy bien y voy a estar al pendiente de las redes a ver si te veo entrevistando a alguien!” she beams and you giggle.

(I hope it goes very well and I’ll be tuning into social media to see if you interview someone!)

“Oye y no has visto al chico de Argentina que sustituye a Sargeant? (Oh, have you seen the young man from Argentina that’s substituting Sargeant?)

“Acabo de ver a Franco hace algunos segundos, no hablamos pero me sonrió ,” you reply. (I just saw Franco a few seconds ago, we didn’t talk but he smiled at me)

“Esperemos que te toque entrevistar a Franco, se ve como un chico adorable y se que es de tus favoritos,” she says. (Let’s hope that you get to interview him, he seems like a charming young man and I know he’s one of your favorites)

Smiling you reply, “Eso espero mamá bueno te voy a dejar porque ya vienen los compañeros de trabajo, hablamos luego. Te amo!” you say. (I hope so, mom. I’ll have to leave you because my coworkers are arriving, we’ll talk later. I love you!) “Yo tambien amor, exito hoy!” (I love you too, good luck today!)

Putting your phone away you stand up and introduce yourself to the rest of the crew that hasn’t met you yet. Smiling, they start chatting with you as you walk towards the van that’s already waiting for everyone. Climbing in you take a seat by the window and adjust the passes around your neck, you run your thumb over the black and purple media pass supplied by Formula One and look at your picture and credentials before smiling. “The first day on the job is a little overwhelming but you’ll be fine,” one of your coworkers says. You smile, “Yeah it’s starting to feel like it,” you say with a little chuckle. Everyone smiles, “Lucky for you, we’re not leaving you to your own devices on the first day so the nerves will ease,” someone else reassures.

“It’s more like anxiety but thank you. I just want to be great at the job and have fun. It’s a little hard to believe this is happening and it’s not a dream,” you add with a little chuckle. “It’s pretty surreal but you’re going to enjoy it,” the woman says. “I’m Christine by the way,” she says, outstretching her hand for you to shake. Smiling, you shake it, “Y/N it’s a pleasure to meet you, I’ve seen you race in Dakar,” you reply. Quickly you fall into conversation with everyone and get to know them. Fans line the sides with merch and excitedly wave to every car that passes, there’s a lot of Tifosi and you smile.

“Are you hoping to meet any specific driver?” Roldán asks you. “Honestly mostly everyone but especially Charles, Lewis, and Franco,” you answer. “You should ask them for a signature or picture once you can, they’ll be happy to do it,” he says and you smile. Once the car parks you gather your things and leave the car. Adjusting your passes you walk with them and greet the workers in Italian.

Deciding to film such an important moment for you, you put an Airpod on and open Tiktok. Filming your feet heading towards the paddock, you pan up, show the entrance, and film the moment you scan your pass and walk in before capturing your reaction. Quickly you save the video and press play on one of your playlists. There’s press so of course some pictures of you are taken and you smile at the cameras. The nerves have eased significantly and now you’re just happy to be here. Picking up your pace you join Christine and Melissa and resume the previous conversation.

The paddock is quite busy but it’s all team staff, drivers, media, and other personnel. Given the news that broke earlier this week about Franco replacing Logan in Williams, everyone wants a shot at interviewing the young driver from Argentina. Making it into the media room you sit next to your coworkers and immediately begin to work. Sipping some water from your bottle you review your notes and wait for the assignments to be handed out. “And this next one is for Y/N, you have Franco in the media pen,” Melissa says. Feeling your cheeks flush, you smile and nod, “My very first interview with and it’s with one of my favorites this is crazy,” you comment and everyone chuckles.

Quickly you start to prepare by jotting down a few questions and getting into the work mode headspace. When it’s time to start heading to the paddock everyone filters out towards the media pen. At the media pen, you get settled with the in-ear monitors and microphone. Christine decides to film the moment which makes you chuckle and wave at the camera. “You got this, you look great” she encourages and you thank her. The drivers start to come out and you ask questions to a few such as Max Verstappen, Alex Albon, and George Russell. You spot Franco approaching you and you discreetly adjust your shirt.

“¡Hola, ¿qué tal Franco?” ”Soy Y/N y estoy con DAZN!” you say in your native language and he smiles. (Hi Franco, how are you? I’m Y/N and I'm with DAZN) “Hola, muy bien ¿y vos?” he replies smiling. (Hi, I’m very good and you?) You smile back, “Todo bien,” you reply. “Es un gusto conocerte, tenés un acento bonito, ¿de donde sos?” he asks. (It’s a pleasure to meet you, you have a pretty accent, where are you from?)

The question makes you blush a little and you chuckle, Franco smiles. “¡Puerto Rico!” you reply. “Ah! Muero por visitar, es un país muy bonito,” he replies. (I'm dying to visit, its' a pretty country)

“Lo es, bueno primero que nada ¿cómo te sientes al debutar en la fórmula uno?” you ask. (It is, first of all, how do you feel about your formula one debut?) “Gracias por la pregunta, estoy en una nube todavía, es una gran oportunidad y estoy muy feliz y emocionado” you smile at him and continue to ask questions. (Thank you for the question, I’m still on a cloud, it’s a great opportunity and I’m very happy and excited)

He’s been a little flirty but you chalk it up to be the Argentinian charm and once the interview ends you thank him again and he chats with you off-camera before going off. Being busy with work makes the day roll by and when it’s time to get some lunch you decide to go off on your own and join everyone else later. Heading out of the media room you walk around and pass the Ferrari motorhome, smiling you decide to take a picture of it and marvel at how amazing and fulfilling it feels to finally see all your hard work pay off.

The years away from home, while you studied to chase your dream, are finally paying off. It happens to be your lucky day because you spot Charles and Lewis walking. Politely you go over to them and ask for pictures and signatures, “You must be new, I haven’t seen you before,” Lewis comments. Smiling you nod, “Actually, I’m fresh out of university!” You beam and they smile kindly. “In that case welcome to the paddock Y/N,” Charles says. “Hopefully we see more of you in the media pen,” Lewis adds and you smile and nod. “Thank you both for the pictures, I can’t wait to see you both in red next year,” you say. Grinning, they bid goodbye to you and you head in search of food.

Spotting a stand making pasta you stand in line and once it’s your turn you order and pay. With your food in one hand and phone in the other you reply to some messages from friends. As you reply to the messages you lose sense of direction and collide against someone’s chest. Your phone, bag, and sadly your food all fall to the ground, and embarrassment floods over you since a few passersby witness the incident.

“Disculpame, no me di cuenta,” a familiar voice says. (Sorry, I wasn't aware) You lock eyes with Franco, “No, discúlpame tú, fue culpa mía. Estaba en el celular y no estaba al pendiente” you apologetically say. (No, I’m sorry, it was my fault. I was using my cellphone and wasn’t aware)

The young driver chuckles and bends down to help you pick up your things. His fingers brush yours as he hands you back your phone, “Escuchás a Taylor Swift?” he asks. (Do you listen to Taylor Swift?)

Smiling you nod, “Si, soy swiftie,” you say. (Yes, I’m a swiftie!)“¡Yo también! ¿Pudiste ir a algún recital?” he asks you. (Me too! Did you manage to go to a concert?)

“¡Si, fui a la última noche de Londres!” you reply. (Yes, I went to the last London show!) ¿Cómo te sentiste sin tener el anuncio de Reputation?” he asks with a laugh. (How did you feel about not getting the Reputation announcement?) Giggling, you adjust your bag, “Me sentí como toda una payasa,” you reply and he laughs. (I felt like a total clown)

Fran walks with you to a nearby bin and you toss the pasta and napkins. “Me siento re mal que perdiste toda tu comida por mi culpa, dejame comprarte otra,” he offers. (I feel so bad that you lost all your food because of me. Let me buy you another one.) “No, está bien no te preocupes,” you reply. (No it’s fine don’t worry)

“Por favor déjame hacerlo, me siento mal que ya en mi primer día acá accidentalmente le he tirado la comida a alguien al suelo,” he says. (Please let me do it, I feel bad that on my first day, I already dropped someone’s food by accident) You giggle, “Ay no te sientas mal, son los nervios del primer día,” you say. (Oh no, don’t feel bad, it’s the first-day jitters)

Franco chuckles in agreement, “Es tu primer día también?” he asks. (Is it your first day too?)“Ajá, me gradué hace unos meses,” you reply. (Mhm, I graduated a few months ago) “Felicitaciones, con más razón tengo que pagarte la comida,” he says and you laugh. (Congratulations, with all the more reason I should pay for your food)

Franco looks over at you and smiles, you smile back and tuck a rogue curl behind your ear. As you stand in line you chat and your stomach flutters every time you catch him looking at you. Both of you order food and he pays for your meals, walking back you’re careful to not drop it or bump into each other again. “Gracias por la comida pero probablemente debo ir a sala de medios,” you say as you start to walk away. (Thanks for the food, but I should probably head towards the media room)

Franco reaches for your hand and stops you, “Quizás esto es muy atrevido pero podés conmigo acá en el motorhome de Williams,” he pauses and looks at you. (Maybe this is a little too bold but you can eat with me at the Williams motorhome)

“Solo si quieres, si no pues esta bien,” he quickly adds. (But only if you want to) You smile at his sweet demeanor and he nods, “Okay, acepto la invitacion Colapinto,” you say and he laughs. (Okay, I accept the invitation Colapinto) “Franco por favor,” he sweetly says. (Franco, please) “Acepto la invitación, Franco,” you add and he laughs. (I accept the invitation, Franco)

Franco leads the way and you go up to the floor in the motorhome reserved for the staff and into his driver's room. “Bueno, almuerzo de primerizos entonces,” he says and you laugh. (Well then this is the lunch of first-timers) “Primerizos que se tropezaron en el paddock,” you joke and he laughs. (First-timers that stumbled upon each other in the paddock) You eat in comfortable silence and after you finish you talk and joke around. He’s made you laugh so much you started to cry and your stomach hurts.

“Me di cuenta de que tenés buen italiano, ¿viviste en Italia?” he asks. (I noticed that you have great Italian, did you live in Italy?) “Solo unos meses, hice un internado en Italia y regresé a España,” you say. (Just for a few months, I did an internship in Italy and returned to Spain) “También lo estudié un poco en secundaria y seguí practicando por mi propia cuenta,” you answer. (I also studied it in high school and kept practicing it)

“¿Cómo es que ambos somos tan parecidos ya?” he comments and you nod in agreement. (How is it that we already have so many similarities?) “Lastima que España es tan grande, si te hubiera conociera antes, habríamos salido o algo,” he adds and you blush. (It’s a shame that it’s so big, if we had met before we would’ve gone out or something) “Quizás hubiese sido una probabilidad,” you say with a little laugh. (Perhaps it could’ve been a probability)

You continue talking and decide to exchange numbers, Franco insists on walking you to the media room. Once you reach it he stops and turns to you, “Fue un placer Y/N, espero no volver a tirarte la comida,” he comments and you laugh. (It was a pleasure Y/N, I hope to not be the cause of you losing your food again)

“Bueno, pero si no pasaba entonces no hubiésemos tenido el almuerzo de primerizos juntos,” you reply attempting your best to flirt back. (But if it hadn’t happened we wouldn’t have eaten lunch together) He smiles, “Tenés razón, esperemos que no sea la última,” he says. (You’re right, let’s hope that it’s not our last time) “Hagamos algo, yo pago el almuerzo en la próxima semana de carrera,” you propose while stretching out your hand. (Let’s do something, I’ll pay for our lunch on the next race week)

Franco shakes it and little jolts run up your body, “Trato hecho, nos vemos pronto Y/N” he says. (It’s a deal, we’ll see each other soon Y/N) Hearing him say your name delicately makes you smile and blush, “Buena suerte mañana, se que vas a demostrar lo bueno que eres en pista,” you say. Franco blushes and gives you a friendly wink and hug before walking away. (Good luck tomorrow, I know you’re gonna prove just how good you are on track)

Blushing, you head inside and greet your coworkers, they notice your blush but don’t ask anything until Melissa points it out. You tell them a little about the encounter and continue to work until it’s time to go.

Once in the hotel room, you call your mom to debrief before showering and after you come out you find a text from Franco and decide to reply. This leads to you two talking for a few hours until you have to call it a night and get some much-needed rest for the hectic weekend that awaits you both.

You were absolutely enchanted to have met him after a slight mishap but it proved to be quite a turnaround.

(all photo credits go to the respective owners)

[imagining-in-the-margins]

Stuck Together Challenge

Hey everyone, I’m back with another monthly challenge! For the months of May AND June, I am formally challenging any willing writer to take a stab at writing fanfiction including characters that are "stuck together" (figuratively or literally) using their choice of Criminal Minds characters! Reader, Original Character, Character/Character ships, and Gen/Platonic fics are allowed! Please check out the Rules below the Keep Reading. There are prompts below the cut, so keep going!

(**This is NOT a request list for me—this is a prompt list of other writers! Feel free to request from someone else, and be sure to let them know about the challenge!)

Assorted Prompts 🪢

The infamous get-along shirt

There's only one bed/desk/car

Characters play seven minutes in Heaven

Characters get stuck in an elevator together

A threat to the BAU has Quantico in lockdown

Character has to ride on the back of a motorcycle

A storm warning forces Characters to shelter together

Characters are visiting a jail when it goes into lockdown

Characters are forced to go together on a work road trip

The flight is going to be a lot longer than anyone thought

Characters are put on the same team at the annual picnic

During office renovations, Characters must share an office

Characters have to give a shared presentation for the BAU

Characters both get seriously wounded and have to share a hospital room

Characters get briefly stuck in a freezer and have to huddle together for warmth

The stakeout feels like forever when Character is stuck with their “least favorite” coworker

Characters are tasked with digitizing the BAU’s records... all of them... In the tiniest filing room

Characters are tied together as fake-victims in a work training exercise and it takes forever to be saved

During surveillance, the two have to stay close together to listen through a single set of headphones... like, really close

Characters both try to hide in a closet to avoid an embarrassing discovery... then they get stuck inside

Despite their best efforts to avoid their coworkers, Character moved next door to their least favorite

Dialogue Prompts 🧵

“Just… stay on your side.”

“Are you… building a wall?”

“You have to stop moving.”

“Try not to make this weird, okay?” “Too late.”

“At least you smell nice.” “Please don’t smell me.”

“Is that a gun or are you happy to see me?” “It’s a gun.”

“This was not what I meant when I said I wanted to be closer to you.”

"You're a decorated FBI agent, and your instinct was to hide? Here? Really?”

“I can’t believe you’re the one to witness my end.” “It’s been five minutes.”

“Well, there’s one way out.” “You would die.” “That honestly sounds better than staying here with you.”

Rules ✂️

Your fic can be a Reader insert, an Original Character, a character/character ship, a platonic ship, or a Gen fic. It can feature any Criminal Minds character. AUs and crossovers are more than welcome.

Tag me in the fic, or send the link to me in a Direct Message. It can be already written, or you can write it for the challenge - I collect both! You can also tag “#mentioningmargins”

The fic can be any genre, but ONLY send me smut if your bio states you are 18+. I DO NOT WANT smut written by minors. Ever. At all. I will check. Platonic ships and pure, fluffy fics are 100% allowed. Please also include some indication of rating if it is NSFW.

Please include Content Warnings and a one-sentence Summary of the fic in your post. For xReader fics, PLEASE specify if your reader is Female, Male, or Gender Neutral.

The use of Generative AI is PROHIBITED. Please do not enter any fics that are written in whole or in part by generative AI. Thank you for respecting my boundaries!

The Masterlist of fics will (hopefully) be posted around June 30. If you finish after that, no problem - just send me the fic once you’re done and I’ll add it after-the-fact!

Feel free to message me if you want help developing a plot, have any questions, or just want to gush about your fic. I’m happy to help, and I’m happy you’re here ❤️

Happy writing!

[more-mara]

NO WAIT please talk more about WAG!Carlos because I actually REALLY LOVE WAG!Carlos and it's been on my mind for a long time and I felt like I'm alone in this. I really like the established relationship idea of Oscar looking mighty walking alone in the paddock, but once Carlos is there, walking alongside Oscar and holding his hand, everyone can see who's the dom and who's the babygirl 😂 not that dom dom but like who tops and bottoms.

In my mind Carlos is a man in finance or consulting. Because, damn, everytime I picture him in fitted shirts and dark coloured slacks my mind goes brrr. They share an apartment in London and Oscar always goes back home after races to him. Carlos visits Oscar for races everytime he can (but he always makes time for Silverstone), and everytime he visits, the journalists and social media literally go very crazy about "Piastri's very hot, sculpted by the God himself, Spanish boyfriend". Oh and Oscar claiming the Spain GP as his home race because "my partner is Spanish and he lives and breathes Real Madrid and I'm very sure I'll marry him so".

I can't picture of the announcement of Oscar coming out, but I think I like the idea of soft launching first through his instagram or maybe Estrella Galicia makes Oscar and Lando talk Spanish slangs and Oscar aces all the questions and be like "My boyfriend is Spanish and he likes to teach me Spanish terms" something like that. Then boom Carlos coming to a race with him.

Eventhough Carlos is the one who tops and is very good in bed, but him also being soft and fluffy and calls Oscar with pet names in Spanish (tesoro, cariño, mi amor, etc) and cooks for him everytime Oscar's back home.

I can picture Oscar on break, dumping holiday pictures on his instagram and everyone goes crazy of Carlos shirtless and flaunting his abs and his super fit body in one (or many) of the pictures. Carlos having his instagram private and everyone will be asking Oscar to let his boyfriend open his instagram for public lol.

I'm going to stop because if I continue, I'll literally dump my thoughts (including the NSFW ones) and this ask will be very long lol thank you for reading my rants!

Oh, you’ve been THINKING about this lol. Anon I love this please continue. Side note, I had written an entire response to this once already but tumblr deleted it 🤡 I can’t remember half the shit I originally said but here we go lmao

I 100% see the man in finance vibes I just wanted to go against the grain and say something else lol but I absolutely imagine him in some white collar job. He constantly wears tailored suits, even in hot weather which Oscar will complain to no end about but ultimately it won’t change Carlos’ mind because it’s his brand.

Oscar gets a little irked by it because he’s supposed to be the celebrity, yet he give off so much just a guy energy when he’s walking hand in hand with Carlos. Oscar highkey loves the attention which is why it bothers him so much when Carlos steals it from him.

In comes the Spanish gp and Carlos is in yet another equivalent price of a mortgage suit. Osc saying it’s “basically my home gp now, I guess,” with a giggle as he eyes the screen where Carlos is clapping and smirking when he notices the attention on him- sending a little wink towards the camera that has Oscar stumbling over his words.

The media always goads Oscar for being “the girlfriend” in the relationship (let’s be real, media love to heteroify queer relationships and would 100% do it to them) but it’s always water off Oscar’s back as he redirects the conversation to how sexy and successful his boyfie is, “He’s just bought a new property in New York 🙂,”

Regarding coming out, Oscar is absolutely of the “I don’t need to come out, I’m just gonna live my life,” stance. He probably drops a “my partner is opening a new business back in London, he’d definitely know better than me if that’s a good idea,” when an interviewer asks about whether he’d buy a house in Monaco. Twitter goes crazy “DID OSCAR JUST SAY HE???!!” and that’s that, now Carlos shows up everywhere he can to show off who Oscar managed to pull.

Oscar loves the pet names but can’t stand it when Carlos uses them in public- goes beet red when Carlos calls him ‘mi amor’ when speaking with a journalist.

NSFW because I can’t help myself- Carlos always refuses to fuck Oscar on a race weekend because “I cannot affect your performance,” and Oscar fucking hates it. Oscar is lowkey needy in bed and can be a little insatiable at times, especially during a stressful week (e.g. a race week) so he goes out of his way to tease Carlos every chance he gets- even in public to see how long it will take for Carlos to snap. Except Carlos never does and remains firm in his stance which Oscar whines and complains about constantly until Sunday night when Carlos finally touches him and fucks the weeks brattiness out of him

Side note, Carlos is good in bed, like- really good, to the point where Oscar can’t even think about anything except for Carlos’ insane dick game. Carlos is experienced in so many ways that Oscar gets insanely jealous every time he thinks about it- getting angry at the thought of Carlos fucking anyone besides him. It’s a funny contrast because Oscar was basically celibate when he and Carlos first met and their first time in bed had Oscar experiencing pleasures he never though possible.

And yeah, Oscar just fully posting thirst traps of Carlos to make everyone jealous that only he gets to see it on a daily basis.